Spellscribed

Denouement

Kristopher Cruz

Thank you to my fans for your patience. It turned out I needed to take a 5 year hiatus to research parenting… by having children of my own!

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Epilogue

Afterword

Prologue

The fates are an indecipherable sort. Their ploys and plays cross the destinies of all men, human or otherwise. To them, time and life are but threads they weave together. They hold the strings; they know when certain threads weave, and when all strings are cut.

Of those strings, there are the ones who are considered heroes. They are beacons of light to those who live in darkness. Where their threads travel, others weave around them to form powerful cords which alter the flow of hundreds, if not thousands of lives.

The cord of Heroes can go farther than most, but even they must inevitably come to an end. Sometimes it reaches its desired destination… and sometimes it too is cut. Regardless of how it happens, all threads come to an end. Only gods…

Zadrah, once labeled as the 'Baron of the Back Alleys,’ sat behind his desk and muttered to himself several obscene things as he loosened the cuffs of his well-tailored sleeves with a grimace. He had just gotten the new outfit and he was loathe to get it dirty.

Zadrah was lean and handsome, in a mature way. He had kept fit over the years, and now that he was getting a little older, he had started administering the thieves’ guild more than he was out alongside his juniors. He let his hair grow out a little longer, and while he still wore a great many hats, he wore them less and less often these days.

Still, with the application of his good management, the thieves’ guild was almost the only organization in Ironsoul that managed to maintain their cohesion and even prosper after the death of High King Mastodon. They flourished with the confusion of the regular armies and city guards in towns all over Ironsoul, and Zadrah's coffers had never been fuller.

When the barbarians came and started capturing cities along the north, he knew things were getting worse. He ordered his people to lay low, stay out of their way, and only try to profit where there were clear opportunities. Most of his subordinates, men and women alike, made it through the wave of invaders alive. There was a remarkable lack of raping and pillaging from the barbarians. It was surprising, since the politicians had always insisted that the barbarians loved a good raping and pillaging.

Still, though he had expected the barbarian's impact on his operations to be minimal, he didn't expect the sand hornets to show up at the capital before the barbarians did. The High King's Army had been alerted only two days in advance of the swarm's arrival, and Zadrah found out moments after that. He didn't know what would happen, but even then, the thieves’ guild ended up better off than the military did. The bugs only went after anyone who attacked them, but when they did, it was a slaughter. The hornets only seemed a threat when injured or separated from the rest of their swarm.

It had been only two weeks since the insects left, apparently with the mage Endrance as their leader. Of all people, Zadrah had hardly expected that novice of a mage to be in charge of things. Then again, Endrance's interrogation during his trial proved he was knowledgeable, if nothing else. Zadrah would have shown up and given his congratulations on Endrance's light sentencing, but he avoided courtrooms as a matter of principle.

After Endrance left, the last two weeks had been easy profits. There were more dead to process than Ironsoul had volunteers to deal with, so Zadrah 'volunteered' his own people to help with taking care of it. Much jewelry and pocket change piled up, earning him not only a tidy profit but quite a bit of goodwill from the citizens. His people were also the only fighters who had the skill to help with the stray hornets and weren't already worn out from either the war or the sudden infestation.

****

"Zadrah?" a vaguely familiar voice called. "I came to speak to you."

The voice came from inside the chamber, and the guildmaster's head snapped up in surprise. A man stood by the door to his room, though he had not noticed it opening or closing. Seeing the bolt was still engaged, Zadrah knew the man had not arrived by normal means.

"What do you want?" Zadrah asked.

"I need to talk to you."

Zadrah waved a hand dismissively, looking like he was going back to his ledgers. Under his desk, he lightly touched the lever that would activate his escape route and collapse the room into the one below it. "No," he replied. "Go away."

"Come on, is this really how you want to do this?" Endrance asked, walking over the plush carpets of the room, his hands spread. "I guess this is still a little bit better hospitality than the last time we met."

Zadrah took a steadying breath, calming his expression mentally while he stood and smoothed his rumpled shirt with his hands. "Ah, Endrance," he muttered. "I would have hoped there weren’t any hard feelings after..."

"Kidnapping me?" Endrance interjected. "Nah, no hard feelings. But what happened to your other men? I mean, no one here even recognized me."

Zadrah gave a half shrug, standing up from the desk and finally actually looked at his intruder. He had no visible armaments, but then again neither did Endrance, and mages were terrible even without weapons. Endrance looked like a grown man now, so unlike the child Zadrah had seen years before. The mage had grown taller and filled out, but still had a willowy and lean figure. Endrance had a leather eyepatch that covered his left eye, something that looked new guessing from the redness around the straps.

"It's the lifestyle." Zadrah answered. "You either get rich quick and retire, or die trying."

"And which were you?" Endrance asked, an amused grin crossing his face.

"The first, I assure you." Zadrah replied matter-of-factly. "But I felt a desire to help out my fellow thief. Give them… a guiding hand and provide a structure to help them make it even bigger than they could before."

Endrance nodded, looking around. "You have done well for yourself." he observed. The room was painted a maroon color, with thick black carpets laid over redwood floors, Zadrah's desk even had gold-embossed corners accenting the deep red finish of its wood.

The Baron sighed. "Well, probably won't have as much after I have to replace all the men you killed coming up here."

Endrance looked puzzled for a moment, something Zadrah was able to read as an honest reaction. "Killed?" the mage asked. "Oh! Your guards." he shook his head. "No, I just came straight up here. No worries this time."

"By yourself?" Zadrah asked. "Forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical. Last time you and I met, you got rescued by your bodyguard and that was with half the guards that were here today."

Endrance shrugged, "I came alone because I didn't want Joven to kill them.” he offered, trying to explain. "But, if you doubt my ability, you could always try to use those daggers up your sleeves to kill me."

Zadrah looked at the mage for several seconds before redoing the buttons of his cuffs, the spring-loaded wrist blades would do him no good if the mage was already aware of them. "Fine." he said. "What do you want?"

"Well it's come to my attention that I need a ship." Endrance said, giving a half shrug as he relaxed. "And you have the one that I want."

"Why would I give you one of my ships?" Zadrah asked, deciding to not be surprised the mage knew about them. "Why not take a military vessel? They've got an excess of boats and there's been a sudden lack of navy to pilot them, you know."

Endrance shook his head. "Those won't do, they're not meant for speed or stealth and I need both. You know which boat I need."

Zadrah scowled at him. "I am concerned how you found out I even had her."

Endrance shrugged. "I made contact with my elven friend." he said, "His family is one of the largest banking clans in the elven nation. They let me know you have one of their ships."

Zadrah crossed his arms, looking away from the mage. "I got ahold of it legitimately." he said. "Legal for both nations, I may add."

Endrance nodded. "Yes you did. My friend actually said you made a skillful deal — for a human." Endrance continued, "And I don't want to take it from you. I want to commission a trip with it."

Zadrah looked back at the mage. "Oh?" he said, his interest piqued. "And how will you be paying for this… endeavor?"

Endrance pulled a burlap wrapped object from his belt pouch and held it out to Zadrah. The thief took it from the mage and unwrapped it with a flick of the wrist. A lump of misshapen black metal sat heavily in his hand. The light of the lanterns on the walls gleamed off the smooth curved edges, but was being eaten up by the flat planes of material.

"How would you like to be the only legal provider of black iron on this side of the stone curtain?" Endrance asked. "It would be protected under Balatoran Law, and I'm even offering to get you in contact with one of the mining houses in Balator so you can personally control the supply chain."

Zadrah did an instantaneous calculation in his head. This kind of black iron was something that was only found in captured barbarian equipment, and while he did manage to get his hands on a few pieces since they conquered Ironsoul, being the sole source of it in the country meant that blacksmiths all over what remains of the nation would have to come to him for the stuff. Even the barbarians occupying Ironsoul would need to buy from him. And even if he didn't just go into the metal business, black iron could both absorb light and be forged so it didn't reflect, a trait that made it invaluable to those who liked to hide in the dark. Endrance knew he was offering to provide ‘his people’ with the materials to make an unlimited supply of specialized gear.

"You have a deal." Zadrah said, reaching out and shaking the mage's hand. "Where are we taking you, Sir Mage?"

Endrance smiled. "Oh, just the Shatter." he said. "The very core of what was once the Mercanian Empire."

Zadrah immediately regretted accepting the offer.

Chapter One

"Huh, that's funny." Endrance observed, fidgeting with his eyepatch. "I thought he would have painted the thing black."

He was standing on the Fini docks, where above him the grand bridge across the river cast a shadow. Hundreds of people were at work around the docks, loading and unloading ships.

Fini was still one of the largest trade cities in Ironsoul, even after the recent barbarian occupation.

The city was a massive one, built mostly with stone and wood gathered from nearby sources. The biggest areas of the city were devoted to marketplaces and artistic displays including museums and galleries. Being a city set in the middle of a confluence of rivers made it a key trade location throughout Ironsoul, and by that virtue a high value target for the barbarian armies.

Endrance had been pleased to find out that the leadership of the city had voted to welcome the barbarians with open gates and offers of business. It made the transition almost entirely painless, and General Balen's men would rather not mess with a system that worked, so long as it didn't include anything that threatened their occupation.

Fini was positioned roughly a hundred miles from the northwestern coast, situated on an island formed by the confluence of two rivers before they made their way to the ocean. Having a port closer to the Shatter had proven to be a terrible idea, as the wild magic fluctuating from the ruptured coastline attracted elementals that would attack anything that didn’t make itself scarce. Watching the tides and learning to spot the signs of the Shatter’s influence were critical, but ultimately scooting past the danger was far safer than residing close to it.

The city still had most of its white stone and clean streets, even after Balator occupied it. There were some new pennants hastily sewn and propped up, replacing the Ironsoul iconography with heraldry representing various barbarian households. It was strange, seeing them on the white walls of Fini. After all, Endrance remembered most of them hanging off the dark stone buildings of Balator.

Of the many vessels kept there, Zadrah's elven ship was the only one without any kind of paint on the hull. Most elven craftspeople used a form of innate life magic that came from the refinement of their craft, so the ship had a hull that was a single piece of wood. Any part that would normally be composed of multiple planks instead appeared to form naturally from the hull as if it were grown naturally into that shape. Endrance wasn't sure, but the faint tingle of magic on his senses gave him enough to guess that the wood was probably also still alive. If he had Pentarch with him, he'd probably be able to help sustain and repair the ship should it take damage.

As far as a sailing vessel went, it had a low slung profile and aggressive sails for moving quickly. There was no figurehead; instead a polished orb of green jade three feet in diameter was set in the bow with elaborately shaped wooden leaves and flowers surrounding it. Magic was strongest around the jade sphere, so Endrance assumed it was the focus for all the ship's magic.

"It's still pretty." Selene said, comparing it to the other ships. She was a few inches shorter than Endrance, with curly black hair that formed natural ringlets. She always had more curves than her fellow Draugnoa, but her improved connection with her demonic half had transformed her from beautiful into stunning. Her eyes were a dark shade of red with square pupils, strangely alluring yet somehow threatening and alien at the same time. Endrance remembered when they had been pretty brown, but that had been before his imprisonment.

"But I want to go with you!" Giselle complained, her fists clenched at her sides. The wolf-woman's voice was indistinguishable from a human's, sounding clear and very annoyed. In the time that passed since Endrance had last seen her, she had grown considerably; now she was as big as the young adult wolfmen he had fought years ago. That memory caused him a twinge of regret, but it quickly passed. A wolfman was the first person he had killed intentionally, and not because he was flailing around. It had taught him the weight behind taking a life, and the lesson had remained with him.

"You're not old enough yet." Endrance replied absently, turning back to review the preparations. The ship was being loaded with supplies, fitted with a few extra pieces of gear, and overall preparing for a long journey where repairs would need to be performed onboard. Endrance watched a group of four porters hauling a spare sail into the cargo bay, and wondered how they were going to take it back out if the sails needed replacing.

"I'm old enough!" Giselle growled, stalking over to Endrance with raised hackles. "I am able to fight! I can help!"

Endrance looked at the girl and frowned. She was wearing a fine gray and white dress with sandals adjusted for her canine feet. She looked pretty and delicate and wolfish all at the same time. Endrance just couldn't see her as a warrior in those clothes.

"Giselle." Endrance said, touching her shoulder. "I know I haven't been around a lot, but this is–"

"That's another thing!" Giselle complained, interrupting him. "You swore to take care of me and you know how much time you've spent doing that?"

"… not much." Endrance replied. "But to be fair I was–"

"Trapped?" Giselle interrupted again. "You could have tried to find me right after! Wasn't I important? Wasn't the peace between our peoples important?"

Endrance flinched. He had taken her on as a surrogate daughter, part of an arrangement to prove that humans and wolfmen could live amongst each other safely. For a long while, Giselle did just fine with Endrance when they were living in Salthimere, the land of the elves. Almost immediately after returning to Ironsoul, Endrance had been trapped in the Bastille and he didn't know what happened to her until things had settled down after his return.

He had been relieved to find out that she had stayed at Joven’s home with Gwen and the children. She had a few bad experiences with discrimination, and then spent the rest of her time secluded in the house. Endrance had thought the integration of the wolves and barbarians was going well, but it seemed that there was still a long way to go. Months of feeling trapped in that small house had changed the girl; she verbally tore into him with the combined energy of an angry wolf and hyperactive child.

"I know. I was supposed to–"

"So you can't let me out of your sight!" Giselle argued, thumping him on the chest. "And I will pull twice my weight on this trip! Or else you can send me home!"

Endrance sighed, closing his eye. Years ago, he'd never thought that someone would be mad about not being allowed to undertake a perilous journey. The wolfmen and barbarians had a lot more in common than just their ancestors, and Giselle was proof of it.

He opened his eye, fixing her with a stern gaze. "Do you swear?" he asked. "Twice your weight?"

Giselle nodded, a fire in her eyes. "Yes!" she exclaimed.

Endrance took a deep breath. "Fine," he exhaled. "Get packed."

Giselle ran off without a second word, dashing off to gather her things. She had to duck under a pair of men loading a crate of supplies, dropping to all fours for a quick dash underneath the wooden box before popping back to her feet and disappearing into the busy throngs of people. Endrance turned to look at Selene, who was trying her best not to grin at him. "Not. One. Word." Endrance growled, embarrassed.

"What?" Selene asked, fidgeting with the hem of her red dress. It was one of her favorite things to wear when she wasn’t prepared for combat. Then again, he’s seen her fight wearing nothing but the tattered remains of a shirt, so that wasn’t much. "I think it's cute." she concluded.

"We're going somewhere so dangerous that no one sails there for a reason." Endrance replied, feeling a mote of irritation. "How is that cute?"

Selene shook her head, causing her curls to bounce. "No, it's not that." she protested. "Just… you look really attractive when you’re acting like a father."

Endrance stared at her for several seconds. "You're going to tell Bridget about this, aren't you?'' he asked, though it sounded more like a sad acceptance of what was going to happen.

Selene nodded. "Yep!" she exclaimed. She hesitated a second, giving Endrance a wink. “Tanya too.”

Endrance rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

"Probably not." Selene replied. "But that's not a bad thing. I mean, you never know if a man's going to be a good father, but it makes us happy that you would be."

Endrance tensed. "Us? Something I should be worried about?" he asked. Selene simply smiled and walked away. In the back of his mind he knew that he had set himself up for that response.

His left eye itched, and he turned towards the water so he could adjust the eyepatch without scaring any of the workers at the dock. He peeled off the leather and rubbed the skin underneath. His fingertip accidentally poked into the socket and he shuddered, withdrawing his hand and wiping it on his clothes as he adjusted the eyepatch with the other hand. He was still unnerved by what happened to him.

His eye had been destroyed by Valeria in what seemed like her last attempt to convert him to her side; a brute force attempt that failed when his friends intervened. However, the necrotic energy had left something behind in place of his eye, and under the freshly healed eyelids a green burning flame hovered in the center. It was exactly the same as his mother's eyes had been, as a litch.

Even with Gullin's help, he had not been able to do much about the loss of his eye. The elves might have taught Endrance the basics of life magic, but without Pentarch he couldn't do anything about the eye. If it had just been destroyed, maybe he could regrow it. But this was… a conversion that he didn't understand nearly well enough to try to fix. The flame didn't generate heat, and wasn't burning him. Sometimes, it would burst into massive itching fits, as if the flames were tickling the inside of his eye socket.

To his disbelief, he could still hear it flickering in his eye socket, which bothered him a little, but the worst part was the continual tingles of magic that it gave off. It was setting his other senses on edge and sometimes, for no explicable reason, his body forgot that it was used to the sensation and it would start all over again, like it was doing there at the docks.

Endrance. Gullin addressed him mentally. His familiar was large enough now that he blocked out the sun if he got too close, so Gullin had been perched comfortably atop one of the wall towers of the city above. There wasn't much the guards could do to stop him, and all the barbarians knew what he was, so they wouldn't have bothered the bird either. Is your eye bothering you again?

Yeah. Endrance mentally replied, replacing the eyepatch. Have you noticed a pattern yet?

The familiar was silent a few seconds. Four hours and thirteen minutes since the last time. He advised. Before that, four hours and ten minutes, and the time before that, four hours and eight minutes.

Endrance mentally shrugged. So I'm slowly tolerating it. He replied.

Endrance got a mental shrug back from his familiar. It seems that if anything, your body is slowly adapting to the transformation. Gullin answered, his tone pleased. Perhaps it would be too much to hope for a full recovery, but you might want to search through your new memories for how the eye works, if anything.

You think I could learn to see through it?

Gullin hesitated and replied cautiously. You might, but I would be wary. You might open yourself up to further corruption.

Endrance turned back to the docks and frowned. Well, then I'll have to take precautions then. Endrance said grimly.

Gullin was silent for several minutes before he spoke again, changing the subject. It was nice of that man to lend you his ship, considering you might not bring it back.

Endrance started walking back up the dock, heading into the city. While his lean stature, eyepatch, and scars would set him apart already, it was his reputation that let him walk easily through the city without anyone coming within an arm’s reach of him. It was Endrance who had been seen arriving at the capital the day that the high king died and Ironsoul fell. He was the one that reappeared when the sand hornets showed up and Balator arrived. He was practically a herald of change similar to his familiar, now that he thought about it.

I had to promise him that I'd replace it with a better one if I broke his. Endrance said. Seemed a fair trade, since that's contingent on me living long enough to return.

How… pragmatic of you. Gullin replied dryly.

Endrance had made it a ways down into the city streets proper when he felt a sudden sensation of surprise transmitted from his familiar.

Gullin? Endrance asked, looking up to the outer wall.

His familiar was a Fjallar. The lore about them Endrace had uncovered told him that it was a firebird of significant power that signaled great calamities. Now whether that was because of some kind of fate tied to them, or that because it was a flaming bird over two dozen yards long and weighing in at ten tons of fire-breathing fury Endrance never could discover. However, there were only three of them in existence, and having one of them as a familiar was an astounding feat of magical skill to pull off.

Because of his size, Gullin was quite visible from almost anywhere in the city, so Endrance had little trouble spotting him. The bird was looking down at the tower he was perched on, his head tilted sideways. He had a crest of long feathers on the top of his head, and they stretched out far enough to look like a crown made of red blades.

There appears to be a man with a spear. Gullin advised him. He appears to be scratching my belly with the point.

Endrance relayed his own feeling of surprise as he stopped walking. You need me to come stop him?

Do you have to? Gullin asked, a hint of amusement in his mental voice. It is getting a spot that is hard to reach.

Endrance shook his head. It's not even hurting you, is it.

No.

The mage resumed his trek. Just… don't startle me like that. I was worried he was trying to kill you.

He probably is.

Endrance paused his walk again, much to the irritation of other pedestrians in the streets. That's it. I'm coming over there.

Why? Gullin asked, puzzled.

Endrance visualized where he had left the bird earlier in the day, and began to recite the proper words of power to cast his teleportation spell. Because, he said wryly, I need to tell him he'd cover more ground if he instead tried using a pitchfork.

As the spell took hold, Endrance slashed the air in front of him, opening a star-filled void along the line his fingers cut. Passerby startled and scattered away from him as he took a breath before stepping through.

Ooh! Gullin replied. Tell him to also get some friends with pitchforks… and torches!

Endrance shook his head and grumbled, trying to look serious as he stepped through the rift and was whisked across the city to where the poor man was about to get a confusing, if humorous, talking to.

Chapter Two

"So… you just left an angry mob to jab at Gullin with pitchforks and torches?" Joven asked, staring at Endrance with disbelief. The big man scratched at his head.

They stood at the back of a shop where Endrance had found Joven. The blacksmith had a large selection of steel arms, though most of the good quality ones had been purchased — or stolen — during the barbarian invasion. Joven had been looking at knives, though Endrance had not seen the man use any weapon since the day he had returned.

Joven stood at an impressive six foot six, and was physically the most intimidating man Endrance had ever encountered. However, the barbarian's sharp eyes, blonde hair, and disarming grin tended to make him seem infinitely more approachable. Over the years, Endrance and Joven had formed a firm friendship, to the point where Endrance was devastated when he thought that the man had died. Joven still insisted that he had, but an elf Endrance knew as Meryl had saved him. It had taken many months to fully restore him to health, and for a long time, Joven had traveled with her, doing what she asked of him in exchange for saving his life. He had to return to her, at some point, but she had allowed him to come along with Endrance for the given time.

"They weren't hurting anyone." Endrance said, scratching his chin. "And I told Gullin to act like they were making progress every couple of minutes, so after a bit he acts injured and hops over to another tower to rest. The people will feel like they're driving him off until they realize he isn't leaving."

"How long do you think that'll take?" Joven asked.

Endrance shrugged. "Probably an hour. Maybe, depending on how good Gullin's acting is."

Joven shook his head with a sigh. "Remember when he was just a puffball?" he asked, indicating the size with his hands. "Made me scratch his belly for three hours. The whole time he just rolled around on his back, his beak hanging open like it was the best thing since fire."

Endrance gestured absently with a hand. "It probably was the best thing since fire, as far as a firebird is concerned. Is the ship loaded?"

"Yeah." Joven answered, "It's all done, but you don't have the crew you need to sail."

Endrance frowned. "What happened to the crew?" he asked.

Joven gave him a look that told him that it should be obvious. "You're sailing to the Shatter. None of the Baron's men want anything to do with that."

Endrance picked up a curved slashing dagger that looked similar to the ones he had been trained on. He gave it a spin, and many more years of experience than he had lived let him dance the weapon across his knuckles and back into his grip without cutting himself. He felt he could do more, and tried a more complicated maneuver. With little effort he had the blade spiraling around in his hand in a dance that looked mesmerizing and more than a little dangerous.

"You've been practicing?" Joven asked, watching with no small amount of pride in his eyes.

Endrance released the blade flipping it into the air, and caught it in the scabbard with little effort. "Sort of," Endrance explained, "I had a lot of time in the Bastille, and the damn place wouldn't let me sleep, so I made a mental training regimen. I got to practice with my mind while my body atrophied."

Joven took the dagger from Endrance's hand and weighed it in his own. "Well, you've recovered from that, it seems."

Endrance nodded. "I'm almost back to my best. Enough power and food, and a little life magic, and I mend quite quickly."

"Except the eye." Joven commented, pointing with the pommel of the knife at Endrance's eyepatch.

Endrance rolled his eye, and had the disturbing sensation of feeling his necromantic eye mimic the movement. "Yeah. Except for that." he said.

"Well, maybe you could make some kind of magic eyepatch thing that would let you see out of there." Joven suggested. "From what I can tell, your depth perception is off without it."

Endrance nodded, touching the eyepatch absentmindedly. "I have had trouble with it, but I guess I could work on something."

Joven nodded. "Got thousands of years of experience in your head, and you still need my advice, huh?"

The mage smiled at him. "Well you've got wisdom where I've got knowledge." Endrance quipped. "And to be honest with you, while I have the memories and skills of the people my abilities have absorbed, I don't have the necessary context to perfectly grasp everything they knew. I can know something, but not have taken it in a way that lets me access…"

Endrance noticed Joven's expression turned blank and stopped. "Let me try again." Endrance said. "It's like I know all the forms and motions to fight with a sword because I've studied them in books, but I've never actually even held the sword before, so that stuff’s not a part of me like how I learned to fight with daggers."

"Oh," Joven said. "Why didn't you say that the first time?"

Endrance shook his head, groaning.

Joven grinned at him. “So, I think you’re going to need to find us some people to sail the ship.”

Endrance raised an eyebrow at his companion. “I hoped you would know how to do that.” he replied.

Joven shook his head, chuckling. “Did you spot any seas out in the ice fields around our homeland?” he asked. “I mean, nice of you to think that I am just that good, but even I have my limits.” The barbarian tapped Endrance on the chest. “Besides, with thousands of years of life experiences rattling around your skull, I’m willing to bet that you know more about it than I.”

The wizard sighed, leaning against a rack of swords, his weight light enough that the stand didn’t even rattle. “Funny thing,” he said. “Nope. None of them ever sailed. It’s almost as if mages of Ironsoul just teleport or fly when they need to get around in a hurry.”

Endrance had an idea. “Speaking of that,” he said, standing straight and working his fingers to prepare to cast a spell. “I think I know someone who can help me, however.”

Joven looked back at the weapons on display and picked up a throwing axe. “And that is?” he asked, but heard only words of magic as a response. Looking back, only a closing slash of starlit sky where the mage had stood gave tell of his departure.

Joven grunted, and turned to look over the shelves to the shopkeep nervously staring at the space where the mage once stood.

“Hey!” he called, getting the man’s attention. “These are nice, but where do you keep the stuff that’s actually deadly?”

Chapter Three

Endrance appeared on the south side of the Sea of Glass, stepping through his spell portal onto the sand and looking about, confused. He hadn’t arrived where he had intended, though it was possible that he had miscalculated the maximum range his teleport spell could manage. He didn’t have long to ponder the situation, though.

The area around him was clear, but only seconds after his arrival warning horns echoed across the scorching desert sand.

The Sea of Glass was quite beautiful in the late afternoon. Sand that had been rendered molten by the twin suns at their height cooled, forming waves of glass that changed in shape from day to day. Even where Endrance arrived, more than a mile from the edge of the glass, speckled globs of smooth worn glass decorated the sands, like glittering diamonds.

The elves would be there in moments, and he did not want to catch an arrow in the throat before he had a chance to explain he had missed his target location. He had noticed a strange cloying sensation of magic when he exited this side of the portal, and the dawning realization struck him. There was a reason he had been safe from Valeria’s influence while he lived in Salthimere; the elves’ own magic was comparable, if not superior to theirs when it came to protecting their borders. He had magically intruded, and now the defenses were being brought to bear on him. Any responders would initially be hostile, even if he could somehow talk his way out of it. Endrance had arrived with his wards lowered, but now he brought them up to full power.

He turned his head as the whistle of an arrow’s flight caught his attention a split second later. A single arrow struck the curve of his temple and shattered against his wards, but the force was not strong enough to even toss his head back. It had been fired from an angle that he hadn't seen, so he had no idea where the shot came from. Fragments of the arrow landed among the sands at his feet. So far, they only attempted to kill him once.

Three more arrows hit him at once, one in the back, one from the front, and one on the other side of his neck from where the very first shot had hit. Endrance, though safe from the damage, had seen the one from the front coming and flinched on instinct. A fifth arrow, this one glowing with some kind of magic, shot through the sand and hit him in the back. Instead of just exploding into splinters, it exploded with a blast of fire and roaring winds, sending the mage sprawling into the sands on his face.

Then before he could rise to his feet the sand around him erupted, sending him tumbling into the air. Endrance drew his arms and legs in, trying to curl into a ball. The sand flung into the air by the eruption coalesced, forming into thin tendrils that snagged the flailing mage, bringing his sudden flight to a stop. Endrance blinked to clear his eyes, looking down and seeing a body forming out of the sand.

It looked like an elven torso formed out of sand nearly ten feet in height, with two arms that split into a number of tendrils that held him immobile. A pair of obsidian chunks formed into eyes staring up at him. The tiny pieces of glass shifted through the sand, forming teeth in the creature's maw.

"An elemental?" Endrance gasped. It was bigger than any he had ever conjured or encountered.

It answered his question by slamming him into the sand multiple times before tossing him into the air again. Any normal man would have died from the first impact, much less the next four hits. For Endrance, he had only had the wind knocked out of him, his wards were burning brightly, however.

Endrance was sent tumbling through the air as the elemental tossed him like a ragdoll. The elemental's head tilted up to track his flight while the body shifted across the sands to position itself underneath him. Endrance saw the thing's mouth open up as he started to plummet, the face yawning wider than would have been possible for a living creature.

It's going to eat me. Endrance realized.

Endrance? Gullin's voice reached him from back in Fini where he had left the Fjallar. The range of their connection had improved immensely now that Endrance had the last of Valeria's memories.

Endrance managed to take a deep breath before the sand elemental swallowed him. His wards would light up the inside of the creature, but he kept his eye and mouth clamped closed. Sand crushed in on him from every direction, immobilizing him and preventing him from making any gestures. Sand started to tickle into his nostrils.

I just got eaten by some kind of sand elemental. Endrance replied.

Do you need my help? Gullin asked.

Inside, the elemental's body was compressing, trying to crush the mage within. His wards were bright enough that the thin layer of magic over his eye was visible through the lids. The power being drained by his wards was not unbearable, however.

No. Endrance replied. This actually gives me a moment to plan.

Endrance extended his senses, feeling through the sand for the core of power that was the consciousness of the elemental. Using tendrils of power, Endrance wormed his will through the power that bound that consciousness to the sand. His only real worry was that he'd run out of air before he pulled it off.

Chapter Four

Outside the elemental, four elves in light desert clothing and hoods backed by thirty more elves in silver leaf-styled armor approached within several yards of the elemental, watching it warily. The last few times they had to awaken it, it had eaten the intruder, spit out a handful of crude metal spikes, and went back to its rest within moments.

This time, however, the elemental was still working at it. The sand that composed its body undulated as it exerted pressure on its victim.

"This one's tough." one of the hooded elves said in 'Hdi. Another hooded one glanced at her and scowled.

"I thought the intrusions stopped." the male grumbled, drawing an octagonal quartz rod from his robes. He glanced down at it, and his scowl turned into surprise. "Wait… something's wrong."

The other three looked to the elf with the control rod and realized that the rod was dark. "The light… but the elemental!" the female exclaimed, looking back at the elemental. It was still seeming to struggle with crushing the mage within.

"If the rod is broken, then the elemental shouldn't exist." the third spoke, looking at it suspiciously. She willed a spell into existence, opening her eyes to the flows of power in the world around her. Her eyes widened, and she reached for her sword. "It's an illusion!"

The four drew their weapons, looking around. The thirty soldiers they came with stood slack-jawed, their eyes glazed over. The sand elemental collapsed into a pile of sand and glass beads without ceremony.

"Enchanted." the fourth said. He looked around. "This is bad."

"What?" the first asked, her eyes darting across the faces of the elven soldiers. She was looking for a face or form among them she didn't recognize.

Endrance appeared, standing in the middle of the four of them. "They're only distracted, you could shake them out of it if you wanted."

The four whirled, swinging weapons before getting a good look at the target. Endrance disappeared, and the four had to jump away from each other, lest they cut each other down with their flailing.

"Careful!" Endrance said, appearing a few paces away. "I would hate to see you hurt. I didn’t do more than provide basic distractions to your men, so why don't we put down our weapons and just talk about this?"

The second pointed with a hand and threw a spell, creating a cascade of beautiful glass blades, each intricately etched to look like feathers. They flew through Endrance, cutting into the sand behind him but leaving him unharmed.

"Uh…" Endrance began, looking down at him. "That would have been painful. Good reflexes by the way."

The elves hesitated. Endrance continued talking. “Are glass blades like that an earth spell, or a fire spell?” Endrance asked the elf with what sounded like earnest curiosity.

The elf narrowed her eyes. “It’s both.” she said. “Hybrid elemental magics should have been harder to counter.”

Endrance nodded. “I bet it would be. So look, since I've got control of the situation, you should probably stand down. I could have killed you all easily by this point."

The elves consulted each other, sighing in defeat after only a few seconds of discussion. Their weapons fell to the sand.

"Very well." the first of the elves said. "We surrender. Your terms?"

"Stop trying to kill me!" Endrance exclaimed with a grin. "I'm only here because I needed to visit my friends in Salthimere."

"You have friends among the elves?" the first elf asked.

Endrance touched his face, concerned. "Did… my face change that much? It’s me, Endrance. I was the ambassador that Ironsoul sent a few years ago. I only left a year ago... I know you all wouldn't have forgotten about it." he sighed. “I mean I might not be very good at being an ambassador, considering that I just barged in here unannounced, but come on people...”

The elves looked at him curiously. "Oh… you're the one that ran through the Sea of Glass only a few years ago." one commented. "I remember you now."

"Wait, he's the one who broke Ironsoul?" one of the other elves asked.

"Um." Endrance said eloquently. "I broke… a country?"

"I would say sparking a civil war among your Circle of Mages, assassinating your High King, leaving the disparate nations to fight amongst themselves, and then allowing your barbarous northern allies to roll over what remained would count as 'breaking' a country." The leader replied. "And we also very much noticed the sudden absence of sand hornets on your side of the Sea of Glass, which I would also wager had something to do with them suddenly appearing in the capitol around when you reappeared, capturing the city before the barbarians could." The elf gestured to the soldiers. “There has been talk about studying what you did among our military as a great lesson.”

Endrance was taken aback. "Well, that's some information network you have." he exclaimed. "I still don't understand then why you all tried to kill me.

"We couldn't have been sure that it was you, first. And even if it was… would you let someone of your reputation into your country just because you knew him?" came the reply. “We have no idea who you work for, if you are even capable of working for anyone.”

Endrance sighed. "Look, I understand what you mean; I wouldn’t consider myself very safe either. But, I need to speak to Valzoa. He's the only one I know who can help me finish what started all this chaos."

The elf that had spoken before looked confused. "You mean… the duelist?" she asked, perplexed.

"Yes." Endrance replied. "How many Valzoa's are there?"

She shook her head. "Only one. But last I heard he's not available."

"What happened?" Endrance asked.

"It was the talk of the Sha'hdi side." she replied. "He took a short trip into the Fiorache’Sora to train. He went with a Sha'hdi, so I don't think he's been lost, but I heard he was going there to train for a few decades."

Endrance paused. "And that's a short trip?" he asked.

"Last time he went into Ironsoul, he was gone for seven years," came the response. “That’s hardly even considered ‘a quick stop’ for us.”

Endrance shook his head. "I can't wait a decade," he insisted. "I'll have to go in after him."

The elves looked around at their mesmerized soldiers. "I don't think anyone here is going to stop you. Just one question." the leader asked.

Endrance paused mid-step. "What is it?" he replied.

She looked curious. "Why didn't you just walk across like you did last time? You had to have known that trying to force your way into our country would be met with equal power."

Endrance hung his head, giving it a shake before snapping his fingers. The mesmerized soldiers blinked simultaneously, coming out of their spell-induced daze. "Sometimes, in the spirit of expediency, I forget my manners and reach for my powers as a mage as the solution when simply walking or talking it out would have been slower but more effective." he answered. "I'm sorry."

He walked away from the group of confused and upset border guardians, heading deeper into elven territory. Just within sight of the group, he finally felt the murky sensation of magic in the air thin out. He glanced back at the group, waved (making a couple elves duck in reaction), and started on his spell. With a word and a twist of his hands, Endrance vanished. The mages could have tried tracking him, but they didn't feel up to the task of chasing down someone as powerful as the mage who broke the kingdoms of Ironsoul.

"What now?" one male asked, stooping to pick up his weapon.

The leader scowled. "We have to report to our superiors." she said, looking over the soldiers. “Wipe the spittle off your faces!” she shouted at her subordinates. “Elves do not drool.”

Chapter Five

Endrance arrived roughly near the area of the city he had resided in for years with a slight disturbance of air and a faint pop. Endrance looked around, noting that the elves going about their business paid him little mind. Endrance took a steadying breath, and started walking. The prior altercation with the border guard had left him nervous, and he still couldn’t shake how idiotic he felt. He needed to stop using his magic as a shortcut to problems. He sighed.

I can… but teleportation magic has saved me months of travel. I probably could have planned better how I'd arrive, I admit.

The elven forest-city of Salthimere was enormous, almost the size of one entire kingdom of Ironsoul. Hundreds of miles of sprawling forest, inhabited by elves who magicked their trees into living homes and businesses. Well-traveled paths were laid with stone in artistic patterns, enhancing the natural beauty of the place. Even the waterways and sewers that kept natural waste flowing properly through the city were kept clean and could be mistaken for natural streams and caves. He had discovered one time while he had been living there that water elementals flushed the sewers and waterways to clear them of filth.

As Endrance walked among the city, he felt concern tightening his chest. He knew this place better than he knew Balator, even though his ties to that country were stronger. Had he only been there, lived among the barbarians for less than two years? Even if he had been intending on returning and finishing his service when it was all over, the return of Valeria, Malchoir, and everything that just went… wrong. There was hardly any point in gaining experience in the Circle of Magi. That’s if there was even a Circle left to gain prestige in.

Still, though his time with them was short, he had learned a lot about growing up from the barbarians of Balator, and he felt that they were family just as much as his surrogate father Joseph was.

Endrance shook his head. That was a complicated bundle of emotions he wasn't sure he was ready to work through yet. Joseph had tried hard, provided for him, but now that Endrance knew Kaelob's involvement in the overall plan, he couldn't stop the tiniest wedge of doubt creeping into his thoughts about the man he called “father.” Maybe he didn't know what had been planned. It wasn't as if Endrance had done much to keep in contact with the man since he left, so perhaps it was Endrance's fault. How many years had it been since he last sent him a letter? Was Joseph even alive, especially after all the turmoil of what happened in Wayrest, relocating, and then the breaking of Ironsoul?

Shaking himself mentally of these distracting thoughts, Endrance’s mind returned to the present. Salthimere was every bit as peaceful and beautiful as he remembered it. It was an illusion, of sorts. Not the beauty; that was true. The peace, that was the trick that any human would overlook. Elven children played games that were many times more complicated than any human child could keep up with, and they were free to use their natural elemental magic as they did so. Endrance paused in his walk to let a child slide across the road on a tiny sled of ice, and then ducked as another shot past his head using vines like some sort of monkey. It wasn’t until the young male had passed that Endrance realized that the kid was creating the vines as he swung.

Nearing his destination, he noticed an open-faced plaza wreathed in lanterns. The plaza was an enormously wide tree that had been grown so that the center was a clear open space large enough for over forty grown elves to stand side by side without touching. It looked similar to a human theatre, except that the dozen or so elves inside were not acting as much as they were dancing, led by a single elder. Endrance stepped off the road a while, watching them. Their movements were graceful and fluid, and deliberately, painfully slow. It was almost slow enough that Endrance could have missed that they were not dancing per se. They were practicing an elven fighting style, and repeating the same motion over and over again in silence and precise, agonizingly slow, muscular control. They could live for hundreds of years and may only ever use a particular move once, but their training would make sure that one stroke would be perfect.

Endrance pinched the bridge of his nose. He had just incapacitated an entire company of elven soldiers trained just as well as these elves were, if not better. There would have been no way he’d have beaten them in just a straight fight; even with his magically-enhanced strength and speed, they’d have beaten him by virtue of greater numbers, technique, and experience. Endrance was pretty sure that a platoon of border guardians was all they had guarding the line between human and elven lands because that’s all that the elves felt they needed. In Endrance’s estimation, it was likely overkill.

Endrance felt even more conflicted by his use of magic. Obviously it could get him in trouble but it was also, when properly applied, able to get him back out of it or take care of problems on a greater scale than a single man could handle. Then again, it circumnavigated multiple people with decades of experience… Endrance shook his head and stepped back onto the path, continuing on. He did not have time to consider the in-depth moral ramifications of what he did. It was done, as were many other things, and whether or not it was ‘good’ was not something he could decide at the moment. In the pursuit of doing greater good, it seemed acceptable at the time.

The transition area to the Forest of Eternal Night was an obvious one. Many smooth stone plazas overlooked an area of clear grass where orbs projecting soft but bright white light hovered along the line. Endrance had been told that it was to discourage the shadow-dwelling creatures of the forest from crossing into the city, for their own protection.

Endrance stepped off the first plaza he encountered, dropping the short distance to the grass below and walking under the lights. Many elves slowed in their daily duties to watch him with surprised interest, but no one moved to stop him or to even warn the mage. Besides the fact he was a human in their eyes, the protection of the dividing line was for the creatures of the forest, not the elves. If he was confident enough to walk into an area where he was at a great disadvantage, then far be it from them to question his wisdom.

Endrance found that light rapidly dwindled once inside. Once out of direct line of sight of the separating line of lights, the forest was already almost pitch black. The forest floor felt soft, and the sound of leaves being crushed under his shoes was muted. The whole forest seemed to be as silent as it was dark.

Endrance closed his eyes, focusing on the imprints of the creatures he'd defeated along the way. When he next opened his eyes, the pupil of his intact eye was dilated so far that only a sliver of green existed, and that little amount glowed with an inner emerald light that matched the flame in the adjacent socket. Now, to him, the forest was easy to navigate, as he could see everything as clearly as it was midday, save for there were no shadows and everything was composed of charcoal shades of gray.

He started to walk forward, thinking about how he was going to find Jalyin and Valzoa. The two elves were far older than he, and they had grown up near this forest. Endrance wasn't sure, but he had a feeling that Jalyin knew much of the place personally, so finding them when they didn't want to be found would be hard. More likely, it would be impossible, since Jalyin had the ability to meld into the shadows directly.

For once, a simple “reach for magic” answer simply did not exist. He couldn’t just magically send his friends a message because he didn’t have any kind of communication spells. And his prior method of communicating with Valzoa, using a tiny messenger, would not work in any effective capacity; the sprite had to find him, and in such a large region it could take months that he didn’t have.

The mage pondered this as he walked. He stumbled on a root, and nearly tumbled to the ground. He managed to catch himself, but it made him yearn to have his staff back. It's not… I can't. He thought, straightening. I should have remembered to take the replacement staff I had made, but it probably would have been destroyed by the sand golem.

Endrance hesitated. I have been rushing through things like this was just going to be a trip to the market. He realized. “Hell, I didn’t even grab a snack when I crossed a continent.” he whispered to himself, his voice seeming harsh and loud in the sensory stillness of the forest. “I need to slow down.”

Gullin? Endrance thought, focusing on his familiar. It took several seconds for the Fjallar to respond.

Yes, Endrance? The familiar asked.

Let the group know I’m going to be late getting back.

… Just how do you expect me to do that? Gullin asked. I do not possess the ability to speak human languages.

Endrance mentally shrugged. I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Draw them a picture?

The wizard was given the mental impression that Gullin would roll his eyes, if he could, and the connection went dormant again. He took a deep breath.

Turning to the tree he tripped on, he placed a hand on the bark and concentrated. His basic education in life magic had been short, but he had learned the fundamentals, though for anything more complicated than simple tricks and cast faster than several minutes, he'd need his grandstaff.

He gathered magical power and a little bit of his life energy in the palm of his hand, incanted the words slowly and carefully, and formed the symbols with his fingers before placing his hand against the tree again. The tree accepted his spell, and Endrance felt a nub push up against his palm. He grasped it with the same hand and pulled, letting the tree draw on the mage's power to fuel the life it was creating.

It stopped when it reached six feet, and Endrance carefully tugged free from the bark a smooth, straight staff of dark wood an inch thick. He could see the wood grain of the staff writhing as the magic faded and the wood settled into its permanent form, and he couldn't help but smile at completing a spell.

Life magic was hard for him to pull off, even after having gained thousands of years of magical practice and expertise from the numerous human mages he now had the memories of. It was not even considered a real subject to humans, who viewed life as the consequence of multiple elements coming together. So he was casting that particular element of magic like an amateur with a few years of understanding.

He could feel the energy of the staff settle into a pattern along the wood. It felt strangely similar to his own meridians, a thought that he hadn’t had before. Perhaps this was one of the concepts he had such a hard time with when he was being tutored by the elves. They learned their magic intuitively, and the hardest part about learning from them was interpreting something they ‘felt’ rather than studied. It was an advancement in his studies, for sure.

Testing it, he let a trickle of magical power flow through his arm and into the hand holding the staff. To his surprise, the power didn’t stop there, flowing through his fingers and down the staff. The tool thrummed in his hand, the power flowing safely through the staff and back into his hand in a loop. He would need to experiment further over time.

Endrance walked further into the woods, and did not notice that the tree he fed his power to had creaked slightly as it spread its branches further and grew several inches using the excess power his amateur casting left over. Endrance still needed practice to be sure, but he had made great strides.

Now to find Jalyin. Endrance thought. If I find her, than Valzoa must be nearby.

He considered his options, and then came to a realization. That… just might work! Endrance smiled to himself. Magic might just be a shortcut that could lead to his detachment from the world, but if he had it, he might as well make it work for him.

Chapter Six

In the darkness of the Forest of Eternal Night, Jalyin perched silently on a high tree branch. The blanket of darkness was nothing to her but a loss of color. Since sunlight couldn’t pierce the topmost layers of the forest canopy, the only light that made it into the forest was the light one brought into it. Doing so would draw attention from beasts more dangerous than just the loss of sight. Lights could be a warning… or bait, depending on the source.

Since she was in the field she dressed in her work gear, a set of skintight black leather armor reinforced in key places with blackened metal. Numerous blades and other worse weapons were secreted about her body, though finding them on her would be nearly impossible. Her black hair was pulled back into a braid. Her skin was as dark brown as the trees around her, if color was something that could be sampled in such a perfectly dark place.

She gazed out over the forest, her ears and eyes keen to pick up the slightest telltale signs of movement. Her partner was out there somewhere, but she had lost track of him hours ago. She had not expected him to come back anytime soon, but there was always—

A faint ripple in the air caught her attention, and she instantly uncoiled her legs, vaulting far out into the open air under the canopy. The very spot on the tree branch she had been perched suddenly received a number of fresh cuts, bark being ripped from the tree. She retaliated as she flipped through the air with a pair of thrown daggers along the path she had vacated. At the same time as her one hand let loose the blades, her other flicked her fingertips to her wrist and then away. A near invisible line, her wire garrote, snaked out and wrapped around a low, leafless branch. She pulled on the line, changing the direction of her fall mid-air and swung out of sight of her original perch. She hit the forest floor silently and rolled, coming to her feet in a fast run without losing momentum as she flicked her wrist and the wire snaked back into the seemingly innocuous bracelet worked into her black leather armor.

She could hear the sounds of pursuit, a rushing of wind as her attacker moved swiftly to catch up. She juked to the right, running straight towards the face of a thick tree. Her boots sported spiked heels and toe tips, which would have been impractical to anyone but an elf, and even then, only the most agile of their kind could do what Jalyin could with them.

She ran up the trunk of the tree, at the same time releasing two more knives into the path of the attack she knew was coming for her. The blades were caught by the slicing wind and slammed into the trunk of the tree. One of them was broken in half by the force of the hit, but the other hit just like she had planned, and rebounded off the tree and spun into the path of the attacker.

While they reacted to her seemingly random projectile Jalyin had reached the apex of her ascent and pushed off the tree, twisting as she did so. Her wrist snapped out again, and she snagged another branch to give her a swing as she came around a tree trunk at high speeds, the razor wire singing as it sliced deeper into the bark of the tree.

She came around the tree and planted her boots right into the back of her attacker, who had temporarily lost sight of her. He let out a burst of air from his lungs as the two of them tumbled to the ground. Not expecting the hit, it was no surprise that Jalyin ended up on top.

"Got you." she purred. Nearby, a tree branch, unable to support its own weight anymore, crashed to the ground. It was almost imperceptible, but she noted the light levels rise by just the tiniest amount. She held a dagger to her winded opponent, straddling his chest.

The male held up his hands, his rapier dropping to the ground out of reach. "Best two out of three?" Valzoa asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jalyin was a Sha'hdi, a moon elf acclimated to the darkness and the more violent emotional spectrum. Valzoa, a Suo'hdi, was a sun elf acclimated to working out in the light and having the strongest nurturing emotions. Unlike her, he could not see in the perfect darkness of the Forest of Eternal Night. Unlike her, he had other talents at his disposal.

The entire brief exchange that had just happened, Valzoa had been fighting with his eyes closed. They hadn't been helping him at all and after the first few times he nearly died to some of the optical illusions of the forest's more deadly threats, he gave up using them at all. How he managed to look coy from the loser's position and without looking her in the eyes was beyond her, but it was part of the reason she was starting to find him charming.

"Pah!" she said, rising to her feet. "You're cute, but you'd still be dead if it were any of the Poisonblades, or any other assassins’ guild."

Valzoa sat up, gesturing to the rapier where it fell. A small current of wind swirled around it, rolling it over to where he could reach it. He stood then, shrugging.

"I don't know," he replied. "I think I wouldn't be fighting an assassin in her home territory, much less somewhere I couldn’t use my full abilities without fear of destroying sacred trees."

Jalyin scoffed, shaking her head. He had joked about knocking whole trees down. "You keep saying that, but I think you've an overblown sense of your powers."

Valzoa held up his hands in a noncommittal gesture. "I guess I'll have to show you someday," he replied. "At least it didn’t take long for me to figure out how to sense…" he stopped, his head tilting. "There's someone coming." he whispered. "Not very quietly, I’m betting you hear it?"

Jalyin nodded. "I'll go look." she said, quickly ascending the nearby tree. Leaping from branch to branch, she closed distance with the subject approaching their training grounds. After she got into line of sight, she nearly fell off her branch when she saw a familiar person bumbling through the woods, leaning on a simple wooden staff for balance as he hopped from root to root.

Endrance looked up, locking eyes with her the moment that she saw him, despite her nearly undetectable powers of stealth. The faintly glowing green ring in his eye locked on her, and he smiled. "Ah it did work!" he said wearily. "I've been wandering in here for six days!"

She dropped down to the forest floor, landing softly and walking up to him, incredulous. "Endrance?" she asked. "You… I heard you had been imprisoned."

Endrance nodded, pinching his nose. She couldn't be sure, but it seemed like his nose had been a shade darker a moment before. "I got out. Managed to kill Valeria, and uh… got my group back together. Still a loose end or two out there, but… I could really use your and Valzoa's help right now."

"How did you find me?" Jalyin asked, more curious than surprised at that point. Endrance had been one of the few men who had ever even known she was nearby, and he was the only one who actually managed to find her while she was shadowmelding. The eyepatch was new, but considering hearsay was that he killed Valeria, losing an eye seemed a trivial cost for victory. That, and asking about it would make him think that she cared. She did not.

The mage shrugged. "Blood tigers can track their prey across the world, no matter how old or covered up the trail is, once they've smelled even the smallest drop of their target's blood." he tapped the side of his nose. "I happened to have captured the powers of one once."

Jalyin considered their interactions in the past. "The only time you've managed to shed my blood was back when you and I were enemies." she said.

Endrance nodded. "I had to go all the way back to the throne room in Balator and filter through a few dozen blood scents, including my own." he replied with a wry smile. "But yours was there. I didn't even think it would work for a while, but the creature's instincts were leading me deeper into the forest."

"You came here by yourself?" Jalyin asked, looking around for any comrades. "How did you survive all this time? I'm not saying you're a poor mage, but the Forest of Eternal Night is lethal, even to someone like me."

Endrance sighed. "I almost died the first night, but I got it figured out. Nothing in the forest dares to damage the trees, so I just… slept inside a tree, so to speak. I put them back to normal when I was done." the mage explained.

Jalyin sighed, wanting to scold him, but remembering that she had been slicing off branches not a few minutes before. "Fine. You found me. What do you want?"

Endrance pointed. "We should let Valzoa in on this conversation too." striding away from the Sha'hdi and towards Valzoa's location. Jalyin caught up to him quickly with long strides, deciding it wasn't worth the headache trying to figure out how he knew. This was one of those humans that she knew she should have killed when she had the chance, but now… the boy was too important and powerful to deal with that way. Not to mention he had saved her life before, and he had just told her that Valeria was dead. News of her destruction would have been worth the effort to find them in the first place, but he apparently had something else to discuss.

Valzoa was not surprised when Endrance and Jalyin approached, instead he merely cocked his head and held out a free hand to stop Endrance. "You don't need to repeat what you said before." the elf declared, his eyes still closed. "The wind brought your words to me."

Endrance blinked. "Well that makes this easy." he admits. "Look, I have access to a ship that will let me pursue Malchoir, the Mercanian who escaped from under Ironsoul. But… It's an elven vessel, and I don't have sailors capable of running it, nor do I know much about sailing."

"You have an elven ship?" Valzoa asked. "Oh, of course, the Baron Zadrah."

"You know of the ship?" Endrance asked. "Curious."

Valzoa shrugged. "It was big news among my family, since they handled verifying the transaction. If I remember properly, it should only require about six skilled sailors. Why don't you hire some humans?"

Endrance shook his head, aware that the elf couldn't see it. "I can't." he said. "The Balatorans are too superstitious to enter the Shatter with me and Ironsoul's navy is caught up in the rebuilding efforts. I was hoping that in addition to helping me hire some skilled elven help, you two could… come with me?" Endrance asked, his tone hopeful. "You've been involved since the beginning, and with your assistance, it would make all the difference in assuring we see the end of this."

Jalyin was about to object when Valzoa interrupted her. "Of course!" he said, smiling knowingly in Jalyin's direction. "We'd love for a chance to sail the hazardous seas in pursuit of a stupendously powerful mage in territory that no one's seen, much less survived."

Endrance smiled. "Well, that sounds about right. Glad to hear you're on board."

Jalyin sighed, glaring daggers at her companion. "I didn't say I was." she snaps. "But I'm glad to see that Valzoa's committed to helping you."

Valzoa tilted his head towards her. "You say that, but you're the most capable of us when it comes to dealing with mages. You could make the difference."

At that moment, Jalyin understood the full context of Endrance’s request. "No." she said, turning away. "You came here to learn about the core nature of the Sha'hdi… if you leave now, I'll never offer this to you again. You promised me that you were serious about this."

Valzoa took a step towards her, his eyes opening, but unseeing. "Jalyin," he said, switching to ‘Hdi. "I—"

"I don't want to hear it." she snapped. "I thought that of all elves, you would understand what it is I want…" her voice quieted. "Don't leave me. Not like everyone else."

Endrance got the feeling that something was going on here, but he wasn't sure what to do, so he turned his mind inwards, working out his plans if he could get them to join. He came out of it a few minutes later to see the two still arguing.

“Look,” Valzoa reasoned. “We can afford to entertain him. Human lives are so brief it’s no wonder they’re capable of such selfishness.”

“They’re not just selfish!” Jalyin snapped in reply. “They are incapable of seeing the long term consequences of their actions.”

“How could they!” he retorted. “Their idea of ‘long-term’ is hardly considered our day-to-day plans?”

Sighing, Endrance turned away from them and walked out a few dozen steps and sat down on a tree root. He had the feeling that piping in with a comment on the subject would only make matters worse.

Their discussion took hours to complete. During that time Endrance found himself having to resist falling asleep, as the forest's unnatural stillness, darkness, and sound-muffling properties made it easy to be lulled into a sense of security.

Endrance took the time to cast a few preparatory spells, some defensive measures, and entered the library of his mind.

There it was easier for him to practice magic without worrying about affecting the world around him. He also had more time to focus, since his mind could process things a little faster than in the physical world. Still, he had to be careful; he had a tendency to lose track of time when he got engrossed in his mental preparations.

When Endrance became aware of the physical world again, another several minutes had passed. Valzoa was sitting in front of him, looking tired but not particularly inconvenienced, despite the hours he spent arguing with Jalyin. The Sha’hdi, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Hmm?" Endrance asked.

Valzoa smiled. "I was asking how you planned on getting out of here." he replies, switching back to the common tongue.

Endrance frowned. "I mean, did Jalyin…"

Valzoa shook his head.

Endrance paused. "Then I guess I can just take us where we need to go. Do you have any idea where we can get the sailors we need?"

Valzoa nodded. "I know just the place. You don't mind if they happen to be of the... eccentric variety, do you?"

Endrance shook his head. "No, I guess I don't, if they can be reliable when things get dangerous."

Valzoa imitated spilling coins from his fingers. "The best money can buy." he replied.

Endrance stood, preparing to cast a spell. "Then let us get to it." he said, starting to weave power into his teleportation magic.

"Yes, le—" Valzoa wasn't able to finish speaking before Endrance's spell swept them away.

From the shadows, Jalyin watched them leave. The mage's spells were already better than anything she'd encountered, and they were wanting her to take on his father? She closed her eyes, thinking. As a Poisonblade, she had the right to choose her contracts, and it was against their better judgement to take suicidal missions, even if it were a good cause. Normally, in this situation, the matron of the guild would demand they make suitable payments to hire multiple assassins, so they could work together. It wasn't something Jalyin could do alone.

She should do something, though. Valzoa was the closest thing she had to a romantic interest, and a Suo'hdi capable of keeping up with a Sha'hdi in the dark was a rare thing indeed. It would be a shame to lose such a potential partner.

Chapter Seven

Valzoa was true to his word, and it only took one more day for Endrance to return to Fini, arriving with Valzoa and twelve trained sailors. Teleporting that many people left Endrance exhausted, and he was happy to leave them to handle the ship while he went back to his room and rested. Having been gone for a week was hard on their available finances; without Valzoa's assistance, they'd not have been able to afford to pay even one of those sailors for an hour's wages.

When he returned, he found that Joven had managed to keep busy by sparring with Giselle. The scrappy little wolf had some bumps and bruises, but she seemed to be happier than ever.

"Are you okay?" Endrance asked, checking her over. She had a particularly large lump in front of her left ear.

"Yes! I'm... I'm fine!" she protested, letting out an unintended whine as Endrance's fingers pushed on the bump gently. "He just got in a lucky shot, that's all!"

Endrance glanced up at Joven, who was sitting behind the girl, leaning back in a chair and his feet up on a desk, the barbarian shook his head at Endrance with a smirk.

Endrance looked down and gave Giselle a smile. "I'm sure that's all that happened. Just a lucky hit." he comforted her. "But, I need you to start covering your head from here on. Do you have your helmet?"

Giselle sighed, looking down. "Yeah." she admitted morosely. "I hate that thing. It's so stuffy."

"Better dealing with a stuffy helmet than a broken snout." Endrance answered. "Sure scars would be fun to bring back home and show around, but you know what would be better?"

"What?" Giselle asked, her eyes widening.

Tapping her on the nose, he spoke. "Coming home such a good warrior that no one could touch you, much less hurt you. Sometimes getting to a position of power without any scars can be just as intimidating as getting there with many."

Giselle looked down at his shirt, thinking. "The one way you just show you can take a hit… but the other way you show you can deal with the attacker before you need to get hit!" she reasoned, looking up at him.

The mage's mind lurched slightly, and he could swear that Selene would be laughing at him if she could see him right now. "Sure." he replies. "If you can get them first, then you won't get hurt."

Giselle's tail was wagging behind her, causing the edges of her dress to swish back and forth. "Thanks! I feel better now. I'll wear the helmet until I get good enough to never need it!"

Endrance watched her rush out the room, and then sighed, hanging his head. "Can you… tell her about arrows?" Endrance asked quietly. "I'm no good at these kinds of talks."

Joven chuckled. "You did fine as a first time speech giver. Didn’t make a lot of sense, but it was okay. Leave the rest to me though; I don't want her to get any more weird ideas."

Endrance laughed, sitting back. "For sure."

Joven jerked his thumb towards the window, from which a viewer could see the docks far below. "So you got us a crew. That took surprisingly longer than I thought." the big man jabbed.

"It's not like I know where in an entire kingdom they were, you know." Endrance replied defensively. "And on top of that they were in the deepest, darkest woods!"

"Ah, so you're saying you were taking a leisurely stroll then?" Joven teased with a smile. "No matter, we're about ready to set sail, and while she's not coming, I feel a little better about not having her around. I know she'd been doing her job but she killed Anna and that just doesn't sit right with me."

Endrance moved over to the desk in the room and plopped into the chair. "I know. But… We can trust her now. Well…” thinking better of coming to Jalyin’s defense, “No matter, she's not coming."

Endrance dipped a quill in ink and started scribbling on a piece of parchment, words in arcane script flowing from his pen onto the page easily. The silence of the room was punctuated by the sound of the quill's tip scratching across the parchment as Endrance marked the precise lettering of the script.

"And don't get me started on Valzoa." Joven piped in after a few moments of silence. "We don't know anything about how well he fights, except he's a rich busybody who can fly."

"Uh-huh." Endrance replied absentmindedly, now lost working on something he'd been thinking of while out in the Forest of Eternal Night.

"I mean, is he even any good? This is a serious threat we're chasing."

Endrance tilted his head. "He's probably at least as good as a pubescent wolf-girl." Endrance responded, his tone distracted. "Don't think I didn't notice the bruise on the back of your hand."

Looking down at his hand and back at Endrance before rolling his eyes, Joven scoffed. "She threw her training sword at me." the barbarian replied defensively. "She was supposed to be practicing her swing."

"Unlike us, wolves shed." Endrance replied, scratching his head at the thought. "Especially during their growth spurts. The fur on their hands get… slippery. Wrap her palms next time. She'll learn how to keep her hands clean of shed fur as she gets older. That's what they used to do, in the earlier centuries. Well, gloves are more often used now."

Joven grunted, leaning back and closing his eyes. Endrance continued working, quickly forgetting that he was not alone in the room. The sound of quill scratching on parchment continued for several minutes before Joven opened his eyes again.

"You never asked." he said quietly, putting his feet down and sitting up.

Endrance raised an eyebrow but remained working. "About which thing, in particular?"

Joven sighed. "All of it. What happened after… I died, what I've been doing."

Endrance shrugged, his quill scribbling across his papers as he spoke. "You're my friend, the closest one I have. If there was something I needed to know you'd tell me. If there was something you needed help with, you'd ask. Not that you've ever needed help with anything, mind you."

"Well, other than help healing from a dragon's talon the size of a man's leg being shoved through my guts, not really." Joven replied. "And that wasn't even the most painful thing that ever happened to me."

Endrance glanced up from the table and in Joven's direction. "The only thing I have a question about is your axe."

Joven looked around, confused. "Which…?"

"You could have asked Balen for the Inheritance back." Endrance stated. "Why haven't you?"

Joven looked down at his hands. "I'm… not ready for it yet." he said as if that explained it.

"You seem to be intact. If anything, you're better off than you were before." Endrance observed. Joven paced back and forth.

"No, not that kind of ready." he countered. "Well, yeah, I'm… better… than I was before. Something about the magic that was used to heal me fixed… uh... What'd she say? All the wear and tear from aging, and all the scars from injuries. Prime condition, I guess."

"It's more than that, Joven." Endrance replied. "You've got something else going on. It's some kind of magic, but I'm not sure what. It surges through your body while you move, but seems to recede when you're still."

Joven turned to him, his expression incredulous. "You knew all that?"

Endrance nodded. "Yes. Since uh… after I found out you were somehow impervious to fire. That magic you're using. Is that why you can't use Inheritance?"

Joven waggled an open hand. "Uh… not really. Yes." he admitted. "It's hard to explain."

"What, are you afraid you're going to break it?" Endrance asked laughingly, his attention still on his parchment.

The barbarian grimaced. Endrance looked up from his writing to stare at him. "Are you serious?"

"Last time I tried to use a sword, it bent like it was made of thinly hammered tin." Joven admitted, scratching his head. "I'm more afraid I'd break something that I can't replace. So… I've been working with just my hands."

"That is almost ridiculous to hear." Endrance exclaimed. Rising from the table, he walked over to the barbarian. "And I know spells that make people strong enough to chip stone."

Joven nodded. "Yep. I remember." he answered. "Though, it's probably better than it was years ago."

"I'm not sure. Haven't used it on the same person twice, except Bridget. And she already broke anything she hit. Her sword never broke, though." Endrance looked Joven up and down again, making the barbarian feel a little uncomfortable.

"Actually." Endrance stated aloud, observing the barbarian's magical energies up close. "Now that you mention it… it sounds an awful lot like the stories told of berserkers—" Endrance's eye widened, and he stumbled back. "You're… you're berserking!" the mage exclaimed, falling back into his seat. "You're actively containing the spirit! Like, right now! How?"

Joven stared at him for a few seconds before simply shrugging. "I dunno." he replied. "Practice?"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Endrance replied, shouting. "How are you in control?"

Joven rolled his eyes. "Meryl, obviously. The elf— or whatever she is— she did something while I was healing. I think. Unlike… well, you know, Talen."

Endrance narrowed his eye. He had known the story of the middle brother, but it had been years since he was even mentioned. "You never talk about your other brother." he said. "Because he was a berserker, right?"

"No, mostly that he betrayed our family and hit mom." Joven scratched the side of his nose. "But… also, yeah. I didn't understand what he was going through. I guess I do now."

Joven sat back down. "Look, back then, I felt the presence of the furie as my brother was knocked unconscious. It hadn't even touched me and it made me want to kill everything in sight, and I was already in bad shape when it passed me by. I couldn't even imagine what my brother went through." Joven explained. "Now… Meryl did something when she healed me. It can't take me over; I control it."

He shrugged. "I guess I understand a little better now what it was like."

The wizard turned back to his desk and plopped down into his chair. "Well?" he asked, picking up his quill and dabbing it in ink pointedly.

Joven blinked at him. "Well what?" he replied, confused.

Endrance shook his head, sighing. "Do you want to go see him? Talen?"

Joven grunted, pacing the room. Endrance went back to work as the barbarian stewed on the thought. The opportunity was there; and once they left for the Shatter there was high chances no one was coming back. Joven mentally wrestled with the idea. What would he even say to his brother? Would he even recognize him?

"No." Joven said after several moments. "I needn't burden him any more than I already have. If I learn how to teach him how to do what I do… then, maybe, I'd go to the refuge and rescue our people."

Endrance pointed the feathered end of his quill at Joven before resuming writing. "That, would be perhaps the mightiest deed you could ever perform for… our people." the wizard observed.

Joven plunked down into his seat, running his hand through his hair. "Yeah. That it would be." he realized. He looked down at his hands, thinking.

“So, when am I taking you to see your wife and kids?” Endrance asked, making it clear this wasn’t a option for his friend. “They also believe you’re dead and I’m pretty sure your wife would kill you if she found out from someone else than you.”

Joven continued to stare at his hands. “I saw them for a few days before I rejoined you.” he replied. “Had been there with them for a few days.” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Mom kicked my ass again, though this time I actually had to let her.”

Endrance nodded. “Ah, right. Forgot that.” the mage hesitated, thinking. “You think your wife would let you borrow her short swords? They were magical, perhaps that way we’d be able to see how much you could exert yourself without breaking them.”

Joven considered. “Probably. Think you can take me over there to ask before any other big plans tonight?” he asked.

Endrance nodded again. “Yeah. Let me finish up here.” he muttered, focusing on his work.

Their newfound silence was brief, when the sound of furniture crashing shook the house, followed by several pieces of glass breaking. Endrance blinked, looking up from his work at his friend. Joven, who had shot to his feet instantly, nodded at the mage and opened the door leading to the hallway. There was a sound of struggle, and a familiar yelp, before Joven stomped back into the room holding Giselle into the air by the collar of her clothes, an apology already on her face and soon her lips.

"Look who I found practicing swords inside, again." Joven reported.

Chapter Eight

The door to Endrance's room opened quietly. That late at night, it would be expected that he would be asleep especially after he & Joven’s whirlwind trip to retrieve the swords, but Endrance had been hard at work on a personal project of his and found that his mind wouldn't let him doze off; his thoughts were going strong despite his physical exhaustion. In an attempt at calming his mind, he had extinguished the lights and been lying down when someone had come intruding into his room. The figure approached the bed cautiously with hands held out in front of them and stepping slowly, like they were feeling their way through the dark.

Endrance exhaled, a faint murmur on his lips that was indistinguishable from the meaningless babble of someone having a dream. Magic subtly wove its way across the bed, silencing his movement and blurring his position on the bed. The sounds and sights of him obscured, he rolled off the bed away from the intruder. Endrance held his breath, waiting to see if his movement had been detected.

The figure hesitated, and Endrance wondered if he had been found out. He had refrained from activating the goblin's vision; the were-light in his eye would give his position away immediately. However, his left eye always burned with a green flame, and he had removed the irritating eyepatch hours ago. He covered it with his hand in the meantime.

The figure reached out and grabbed the sheets, and Endrance removed his hand. To the intruder, it likely appeared that a green flame flickered into existence before them.

"Who would be disturbing a wizard's rest?" he asked, ignoring the fact he wasn't actually resting at the time.

The figure at the bed gasped, and Endrance recognized the owner. Giselle looked up at him in the dark, her nose sniffing at him in curiosity. Endrance canceled the minor illusion magic he had cast.

"How… I still smell you on the bed!" she exclaimed petulantly. "How did you—"

"It's late, Giselle." Endrance interrupted, his voice grave. "Seriously, why are you trying to disturb my rest?"

She hopped onto the bed, kneeling on the stuffed mattress. "I was going to sleep alongside you."

"You were?" Endrance asked. He focused, activating his night vision. He could see she was wearing one of Tanya's shirts. "Why?"

"You're warm?" Giselle commented. "And my people like to sleep together. It's safer." she replied, rubbing her eyes. "And Selene said that the beds were too small for anyone else to cuddle with you."

Endrance sighed. They had tried to share a bed, and being so snugly in contact in a bed led to something most certainly not considered sleep. So, in an attempt to get some actual sleep, they had taken different rooms.

"Of course." he said. “Did they have anything else they wanted to say?” he asked.

Giselle giggled, patting the bed. "Tanya said you need to sleep." she added.

Endrance sat on the bed, rubbing his temple. "They do like to remind me." he muttered.

Giselle waited for Endrance to climb back into bed before settling down. She rolled entirely over until she was tucked into the sheets and between his arm and torso. Endrance couldn't help but feel a little awkward, but she was innocently cuddling up to him for rest. He took a deep steadying breath. The girl was warm, and her close presence was actually quite comforting now that he accepted it. Sleep started to creep in on him.

"How did you do that?" Giselle asked just as he was about to doze off.

"Huh?" he answered intelligently.

"Make it appear like you were there but weren't?" she continued. Endrance looked down at her, realizing that she was looking up at his face in the darkness, likely not able to see him but was waiting for an answer anyways. Her tired smile was, of course, wolfish.

"Magic." Endrance explained, yawning. "Took the image of me and moved it to where I wasn't."

Giselle was quiet for a moment, and he almost drifted off again when she spoke again.

"Could you teach me?" she asked.

Endrance blinked down at her. "Uh… yes?" he replied. "I've never had a student before, though. And weren't you going to practice being a better fighter?"

"I can do that too." Giselle replied. "Besides, if I learn to do magic too, winning fights would be even easier."

Endrance yawned again. "I'll consider it. Tomorrow." he replied sleepily. "Go to sleep."

Giselle's only reply was a quiet snore. Endrance stroked the top of her head with his hand, and in moments he drifted off to sleep.

****

Endrance was pleasantly surprised to find out that he had slept several hours peacefully. When he awoke, it was because the sun streaming through the window slats had poured across his bed, adding its warmth to the little wolf-girl curled up next to him and making him uncomfortably hot. He looked down, noting how Giselle now stretched from his armpit down to his shins. Soon, she'd be taller than him.

Pushing that depressing thought from his mind, he carefully slipped off the bed and padded over to the desk, stretching. As he went through his set of mental exercises to shake out all the cobwebs, his memory kicked back in and reminded him of his agreement to teach Giselle magic. He plopped down onto the chair at his desk, regarding the sleeping wolf-girl with a critical eye as he pondered the possibilities.

Of course she'd be capable. Unlike humans, every wolf-man, woman, and child had latent magical ability; it stemmed from their origins as magical transformations-turned permanent. Perhaps Endrance could figure out how to undo such a curse, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Whatever anguish over being somewhere between man and wolf the species had, it was long since buried with the prior generations. They now only knew things as they were, and to take it away from them would be just as painful a transition.

However, it did make it easier for him to teach her. If he recalled correctly, the prior alpha of Giselle's pack had learned to use his magic to heal himself, and probably other things he didn't dare admit to Endrance. This meant it should be easier to teach Giselle, but Endrance needed to figure out exactly how he should go about it.

He closed his eye, briefly entering the library of his mind again as he delved into the thousands of years of memories he had already managed to accrue. Multiple wizards of varying degrees of age and skills were stored in his mind; two of Kaelob's graduated apprentices, Kaelob himself, and Valeria, his own mother. Stacked among them were over two-thousand years of experience. Considering that Valeria had taught Kaelob, and Kaelob taught Endrance himself, he could go through both sides of each memory; both what was going on from the teacher and the student's perspective. He also remembered the imprints he gained from the Atastos… the undead wolf shamans he had destroyed. He had only gotten parts of their memories, since their imprints were scattered and diffused over multiple centuries being frozen. However, what he could try to piece together would be the most essential to teaching Giselle what she needed to learn.

It was a little early in the morning to give himself a headache plumbing through that much simultaneous information, but he pushed on anyways.

It was rather humbling, to see the way things had been refined over the centuries. Valeria's earliest studies in magic were not under a tutor; she had to steal from the Mercanians while they still lived, and scavenge everything she could from the remains of an incomplete library after the Shattering. It had been one of the small personal collections of the Mercanian who eventually became Endrance's father. Much of her earlier spells were guesswork and theory, dangerously experimented upon where the slightest mistake could mean death or worse.

Her education of Kaelob, and several other apprentices Endrance never met, was actually one of the formative events for the Circle of Magi. Many of her fellows who learned magic alongside her discovered that their aging slowed the more mastery of magic they gained, and decided to use these gifts to create a specialized tradition of education and regulation.

Endrance collected the memories he needed, realizing that he probably had the best magical education known to man, and had the experience he needed to teach it.

"No wonder the Mercanians ruled everything." Endrance muttered, opening his eye. "This power is completely unfair."

Giselle was still sleeping, but his head throbbed. He massaged his temples and blinked several times as his left eye went abuzz in his skull yet again.

Are you sure this thing isn't spreading? Endrance thought to Gullin, who he presumed had noticed his sudden spike in agitation.

I am not. Gullin replied. It is hard to get a good look at it when you are so small.

I guess there were times when you were more useful, smaller. Endrance admitted. But your size was shackled to my abilities. Now that I've gotten better… wait.

Oh, please do not say what I think you are going to say! Gullin replied. Outside the window, Endrance could hear the giant bird let out a squawk that rattled the timbers.

Giselle sat bolt upright in the bed. "Whowhatfight!?" she shrieked, looking around.

And now everyone in Fini is awake. Thanks. Endrance apprised Gullin, his mental tone sarcastic. And yes. I am going to do what you think I'm going to do.

… This is going to feel weird, is it not? Gullin meekly asked.

Endrance didn't reply. Instead he smiled at Giselle and stood. Walking over to her, he reached out and patted her on the head. "It's all right. It was just Gullin. I'm going to have him come inside now."

Giselle tilted her head, her canine ears emphasizing her confusion. "How?" she asked. "He's bigger than this house!"

Endrance walked back over to the window and opened the shutters. Unlocking the window itself, he casually threw them open too. He mentally reached out and felt his way down to the connection that Gullin and he shared. Because Gullin came from another place entirely, he had been summoned through a spell circle scribed on Endrance’s back. This multipart spell was complicated, but he had time to look over the plate he had recovered from the palace in Ironsoul and he realized now how it worked.

While he was a portal for Gullin to exist, he wasn't exactly one in a physical way. In reality, Gullin had not, nor will he ever, actually exist in Endrance's realm. Instead, the spell calls to Gullin and projects him through Endrance into his world, like a pinhole in a piece of parchment held in front of a flame. The strength of his aura, and the amount of power he could control with it, was the key factor in determining whether that light was pouring through a pinhole… or a giant bird-shaped opening.

Now that he had a much better grasp of the effects, he mentally found that connection —the projection that he'd always left open at full strength— and started closing it. His circle had the spellwork in it to let it stay at different strengths, which was a foresight Endrance hoped he would have with his own designs.

The streets around the house Endrance was occupying got much brighter as the bulky avian shape above them suddenly stopped blocking all the late morning sunlight. Endrance didn't hear anything from Gullin, but the familiar was relaying several complicated feelings of anxiety and confusion.

When Endrance had it finished and stable, he leaned out the window and held out an arm.

Well, come on in. He thought.

Gullin, now down to the size of a crow, fluttered down to land on his arm.

This is demeaning. Gullin stated grumpily. I demand you return me to my full glory.

Nonsense. Endrance replied, turning back into the room and presenting Gullin to Giselle. You're glorious no matter what size you are.

Gullin, not entirely buying it, decided to instead enjoy Giselle as she excitedly jumped out of bed to caress his still radiant crimson plumage.

"He's so small now!" Giselle exclaimed, scratching under Gullin's chin and grinning as his waddle flopped around. "I love it!"

… Perhaps I can remain this way for a little while. Gullin finally replied, resigned to the new size but increased attention.

Endrance smiled to himself, but then moved his arm, taking Gullin away from Giselle. He set Gullin down on the back of his desk chair, and closed the window while Giselle kept the bird occupied. He walked around the chair and patted Giselle on the head.

"Giselle? Can I ask that you take a step back please?" he requested. She complied, hopping back adroitly and with a little spin as she giggled.

Endrance turned back to Gullin and reached up to touch his eye. Okay, can you take a closer look now? He asked.

Gullin tilted his head to the side, and then the other side, staring intently at the burning green flame in Endrance's eye. At his direction, Endrance delicately held open his eyelids with his fingertips.

Well, I have bad news. Gullin finally stated. Endrance's heart sank.

Yeah? What is it?

Whatever it is that Valeria infected you with, it appears that it is stable. Gullin reported.

Endrance started to relax. That's good, right?

Gullin tilted his head to look down at Giselle. Tell her to go. The familiar suggested. Get breakfast ready.

Endrance's heart started to sink, but he agreed with Gullin and turned to his ward.

"Giselle? I'll start teaching you after we have some breakfast. Why don't you go down and get some ready for us?" he asks.

Giselle nods her head energetically. "Okay!" she exclaimed, heading out of the room, her tail wagging.

Once she was gone, Endrance sat down on the edge of the bed, setting the familiar on the bedpost.

So. How bad is it really? Endrance asked. And why did it matter if she was in the room?

Gullin bowed his head. It is not her business, and she can tell we are communicating from your body language. I did not want her to lose heart because of any strange reactions you made to something I said.

So. How bad is it? Endrance repeated.

Gullin's head remained low. I cannot be completely certain. However, the corruption of your eye has stabilized. It is not spreading, nor is it receding.

So it's harmless? Endrance asked.

No. Gullin clarified. With your power and enough time, you should be able to completely remove any simple type of corrupting influence naturally, and thus it should be shrinking. This means that it is a curse of some sort she placed upon you.

Endrance mentally groaned. Her memories of her last moments didn't come in clearly when she was destroyed. Most of her memories after becoming a litch didn't make it, actually.

He started working through it. So if it is a curse, then it must be working already, or waiting for a condition, right?

Correct. Gullin confirmed. Curses typically affect their target constantly, with a relatively mild effect, or build up energy over time until the proper conditions are met, to a much greater effect. Considering that other than the loss of your eye the flame has done nothing else…

Endrance touched the corner of his empty eyelid. The green fire wasn't exactly cold; it was the same temperature as his body.

It's waiting for the right conditions to be met in order to activate. Endrance concluded grimly.

Gullin looked back up at him. It would appear to be the case. The familiar concluded. Though I cannot discern the triggering factors in any way, I believe that I understand enough to guess the function.

Yeah? The wizard asked. Going to kill me, huh?

Indeed. The firebird replied. Quite spectacularly.

Endrance grimaced and touched his eyelid again. "Good thing I've been preparing for this." he said aloud, rising from the bed and moving to his desk. Taking the stack of papers, he laid them out across the bed in a single sweep of his arm. "I could work on this in my head, but after being locked in the Bastille so long it felt good to do something in the real world."

Gullin looked down at the papers. They appear to be numerous warding circles. He observed.

"Right. All of them designed to work as part of a larger whole." Endrance replied. "I got the idea from Valeria's own bracers."

Endrance opened one of his packs by the bed and withdrew a misshapen bar of metal about as thick as a thumb and as far across as a man's finger. It was the same kind of milky white metal that made the Inheritance, Gwen’s… err, Joven’s swords and many of the elves' weapons. "Traded for this while I was waiting for Valzoa's mercenaries. I'll need someone to work it into the right shape, but the metal is three times more effective at holding a spell than silver."

Three times? Gullin gawked. That would allow for those spells to operate nearly eternally.

"Yep." Endrance replied. "Only one problem… forging this elven truesilver is very difficult. I'll need some very specific tools and to wait until the coming full moon in two nights… Do you happen to know where I can find a smithing hammer that's been used for no less than four generations?"

Gullin stared at him like he was an idiot.

"I had to ask." Endrance sighed. "I'll work on that after I get some breakfast and start on Giselle's lessons. If this thing's going to kill me, then I need to pass on something."

A most positive mindset. Gullin observed, fluffing his feathers.

"Thanks."

Now return me to my full size!

Chapter Nine

The night of the full moon came without further incident. Endrance's lessons turned out to be surprisingly effective. He was surprised by how quickly Giselle picked things up, even faster than Endrance had. It went to show him how different it was to teach a naturally magical being the human means of spellcasting. The hardest part about teaching humans magic was teaching them to be able to feel magic at all; it was the most unnatural thing a human could ever know. Endrance figured it would be similar to teaching a fish to walk on land. However, as the wolves had become latently magical creatures over the centuries, they were naturally at a point that took the first several years of a mage's training to accomplish.

Giselle hadn't reached the point where she could manipulate magical power, but she was capable of sensing it already, and was doing the exercises Endrance proscribed her, trying to learn how to feel it inside her. It should keep her busy for a few more days, at least, since Joven and Bridget have been overseeing her martial training while Selene and Tanya oversaw everything else needed to get the ship and crew sorted for such a long journey. Endrance had been given some leeway to work on his projects, and he was grateful for the space to work.

As the twin suns set, Endrance climbed up to the top of the southernmost tower of Fini's walls. The roof of the guard tower had been cleared of its normal objects, which included guards, leaving a barren stone brick floor nearly thirty feet across where he could work and have no obstructions by nearby structures. There, he had set up the tools he would need earlier in the day. First, he looked them over, making sure nothing had been stolen or tampered with while he was gone.

A small heavily worn anvil, two urns covered in arcane script painted in Endrance's blood, a smith's hammer whose age he confirmed with the right spells, a pouch of powdered silver, three plate-sized lenses formed of ground glass, and an empty bowl made of clay mixed with his spit before it was fired. He took out one of the daggers he'd purchased earlier and laid it alongside the hammer. The hardest item to acquire was not the hammer, but the lenses. Human-made glass quality was not as good as the elves, so he instead had taken three large shards directly from the Sea of Glass and had a glassworker polish them down to the right shape and curves.

Endrance knelt before the anvil, looking over everything before being satisfied. The moons had already risen in the sky, and he started before he lost the light. With a touch and a murmur, the two urns and three lenses of glass began to float in the air about him, the urns sloshing with water as they orbited. He flicked a finger, sending the three lenses up into the air above him, and with another, the urns moved to hover above the anvil on either side, about as far apart as Endrance could have held them with his arms.

Looking up, Endrance was disappointed that more than a few clouds were in the area. Even one could ruin all his work. Grimacing, he closed his eyes and recalled the proper spells, casting them in rapid order, one word of power after the next as his hands flashed through the proper mudras and signs to finish the spells.

To anyone watching the night sky, a hurricane-force disk of wind formed over Fini, spiraling out with enough speed and energy to create a rumble in the sky, dispersing the nearby clouds for miles. The disk of wind remained above, unseen by anyone except the few that noticed no birds nor bats dared approach that night.

Setting the piece of truesilver on the anvil, he took a deep breath before picking up the hammer. With a word, the urns tipped over, one spilling water upon the anvil, while the other seemed to catch the flow as it spilled beyond it to the floor, sucking the water into it. This waterfall remained perpetual, pouring gallons of cold, wintry water upon the anvil and pulling it back up into the second before it was magically transported back to the first. Though the truesilver was light, the water only flowed over it, and it did not get swept away.

Another word, and the three lenses moved into position. There, they caught beams of the white moon's light and focused it upon the anvil. They would follow the moon, and keep that beam upon the anvil at all times.

Taking the hammer, Endrance began incanting the spells he had spent so much time working on beforehand. Every few syllables, Endrance brought the hammer down on the truesilver. Scintillating flickers of white light erupted out from under the hammer, and Endrance almost lost concentration on the spell, but he managed to push on despite the most minute hesitation in his words. Each second he continued casting his spells, and the water seemed to collect the moonlight focused upon it by the lenses, until Endrance's hammer seemed to strike it into the metal beneath. Whenever he struck, the metal made the most peculiar keening ring, each time forming a different note of a song Endrance had never heard before.

The process took almost two hours. If he hadn't prepared for this night by resting up in advance, he would never have been able to complete it. He couldn't use any spells other than what was used to forge the metal, lest he warp it. His arm grew tired, his tongue numb, and his mind fuzzy from the constant trickle of power he was pouring into the process. When he had finished his set of spells he started all over again, repeating the process several times until the very end. He had gotten so set in following the routine of the crafting that he only stopped when the hammerhead shattered, exploding in a flash of moonlight. Flinching, Endrance dropped the handle of the hammer and scooped up his dagger. He drew the knife across his palm, hardly even feeling the pain as blood poured into the clay bowl. He set the knife down while the bowl filled, picking up the pouch of silver and pouring it into the blood and stirring it with the handle of the hammer. He clenched his cut hand and sent some power to flow through his wound, stimulating his healing, and with another word pulled the urns and their water away from the anvil. Using the dagger in one hand and holding the bowl in the other, he flipped the piece of worked metal into the bowl. The mixture of magically-infused blood and ground silver seemed to envelop the metal, and Endrance started incanting the last spell he had prepared. As he completed the spell, he turned the bowl over and clapped it to the stone floor with one smooth motion.

He felt a great rush as a significant portion of his power was siphoned out of his aura. The tower trembled, and silver-flecked smoke steamed out from under the bowl as Endrance held it in place. It almost felt like color itself was drained from him. A thin whistling could be heard escaping the bowl.

Seconds later, the bowl jumped in his hand once and then went still. Endrance let go, checking his palm. The cut had been deep, so now that he was finished he was able to heal it with one of his simpler spells. Reaching out, he flipped the bowl over.

Underneath was not a mess of blood, but instead a single piece of worked truesilver. It had been shaped into a concave oval. It was shaped perfectly to fit over his left eye, the edges would lie flush with the edges of his eye socket. Across the inner curved side were three concentric circles of arcane script. The outer curved surface had four. The wizard smiled tiredly. Everything had shaped according to his will.

Endrance pulled off his old eyepatch, and after a few moments of hesitation, touched the metal to his eye. The eyepatch moved into position, sliding painlessly into place and settling comfortably across his eyelids. The seven spells each activated, one after another in sequence as the script lit up with golden light and then faded. There was a moment of buzzing from the necromantic flame in his eye, but it quickly faded away. Endrance's vision returned to him in full at that moment, bringing back his sense of depth and awareness of what was going on to the left of his head. He blinked his right eye, and the senses he was getting from his 'left' blinked too.

After a few tests blinks, he intentionally tried to close just his right eye. His vision shifted, showing him only what he could see through the new eyepatch. Endrance was glad it worked out as intended. He tested the rest of the magic he worked into the piece. It adjusted to see in the dark when he accessed the goblin's impression, and he could see further than any human could with just a thought, making things impossibly distant become as easy to see as if it were right next to him. He had included a fourth effect, but he wasn’t sure he could use it anytime soon. Those were just the external effects; he had also woven three spells on the inside of the eyepatch that he theorized would help deal with the green litch's flame within.

Grinning, Endrance fell back, sprawling out on the stone where he stared up at the night's sky. The moon was still overhead, and the three lenses remained floating, trying to keep their position. With a wave, he sent them to rest next to the urns. Curious, he used the eyepatch and extended his vision straight up, staring at the distant stars. They didn't seem all that much different, though he could only see a much narrower circle of the sky above. Frowning, he tried again with his ability to see in the dark active. There was no discernable change. Releasing the effects, he wondered if they were just too far away.

The eyepatch he had just created was one of the most complicated things he'd ever heard of being done. In his defense, he had multiple lifetimes of experience crafting artifacts like it. Though even Valeria had never worked seven spells into such a small object. Valeria never had truesilver, either, so he chalked it up to the metal's astounding compatibility with spells. Still… it made the items he had made for Joven and the Draugnoa back when they were facing Kalenden look like peddler's trinkets.

Thinking about it, he was still nowhere near a master. It took everything he had to shape so little truesilver, and yet he'd seen elves with full swords and even pieces of armor forged of it. And then he thought about the Inheritance… who could possibly have forged something of that size and mass?

Still, an item like this would have been impossible for his younger self to forge, most likely fatal to attempt. It was, as far as human mages were concerned, an artifact. If the Circle of Magi still existed, this achievement would have been sufficient to earn him the title of Magus.

“Such an artifact should be given a name.” he whispered. His fatigue hit, and he yawned. “But not right now.” he concluded.

Forcing himself to stand, he felt a bit of vertigo as his brain adjusted to his new way of seeing. Wobbling, Endrance made his way downstairs like a drunken man. In the room below, Selene and Bridget waited for him patiently.

"It worked." Selene observed, smiling. "You look… strange. But not as intimidating as you did before."

Bridget crossed her arms, her wooden limb creaking. “You don’t look goofy, at least.” she added, smirking. The Draugnoa had been quiet lately, but had come of her own accord to keep an eye on him as he worked. If they had peeked while he forged the truesilver, he hadn’t noticed.

"I suppose that's good." Endrance said, scratching his cheek.

Selene frowned. "That's not going to fall off, is it?"

Bridget glanced at her. “I could smack him around a bit, if you think that’d test it.” she said.

The curly-haired Draugnoa giggled. “Might work.” Selene replied, giving Endrance a wink.

Endrance shook his head. "It couldn't be more firmly attached if you had bolted it to my skull." he replied with a faint smile. Looking at the two, he gestured at them weakly with a limp hand. "Mind helping keep me up? It's not easy adjusting to the new perspective and my balance is askew."

Selene stared at him, trying not to laugh or smile and failing miserably at it. Bridget started chuckling.

"What?" Endrance asked.

Selene raised an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure I can keep you up, but wouldn't you rather we go home first?" she asked coyly.

The mage blinked at her a few times, realizing what he said. "I walked into that." he admitted. "Let's go home first." he laughed.

“Get a room guys.” Bridget complained, taking the steps down.

Selene smiled. “Yeah, it’s also yours!” she snapped back.

Endrance heard a sound of disgust from the floor below. “Don’t remind me!” she shouted.

Chapter Ten

The next two days saw their ship launched. The elven crew were quite friendly to Endrance and his companions, but that was mostly because of Valzoa's presence. When Endrance came above decks, his elven compatriot stood near the orb set where the figurehead would normally be, his face turned to the wind and his eyes closed. The wizard left him to his communion with the winds and walked around to the wheel. One of the elven crew was guiding the ship along the river they were sailing down.

The elves Valzoa hired were dressed uniformly in light tan leather armor, which was reinforced along the sides of their abdomen with tiny silver scales. Dyed green leather pauldrons, gloves and boots were expertly crafted to resemble shaped leaves. A dark gray silk underlayer completed their uniform. Endrance could appreciate the fine detail work that went into each part of their armor, so he looked at the magic worked into the pieces and was impressed by what he saw. Each suit had been worked with some kind of sympathetic magic defense; harming one of these elves would be met with magical retaliation.

"Wizard." The female said plainly, acknowledging his presence without taking her eyes off the water. Of the crew, she was the only one whose hair was a midnight blue. "We're making good progress. We should be out of these rivers and in the Shatter by nightfall."

Endrance nodded at her. He recalled her name was Eleale. "Good. I was worried we would fall behind. Anything I should be concerned about?"

Eleale stiffened slightly. "You've never been in the Shatter, have you?" she asked.

"No. I haven't. Why?" Endrance asked, curious.

She managed to keep her eyes on the river, guiding the vessel around any potential shallows or areas that could ruin their course. "The area there is filled with areas of wild magic. Things… don't work the way they're supposed to. Magic beings like elves can be harmed by it."

Endrance frowned. "That’s… bad." he concluded. He hadn't added in that he was probably far more susceptible to that kind of harm than she was or that his charge, Giselle, was also a being of innate magic susceptible to wild magics. It wouldn't make much difference, as far as he could tell.

The pilot tilted her head as she turned the wheel ever so slightly. "We will need to plot our course carefully once we are there."

The wizard nodded. "Of course. This does work in our advantage. That means that our quarry couldn't just move in a straight line to get where he's going."

"How do you know where we're going?" Eleale asked. "If you tell me, I could check with the rest of the crew, perhaps we know some ways around already."

"Your people have already explored the Shatter?" Endrance asked.

She simply shrugged. "Some of our parents were in their youth when the Mercanian empire imploded on itself and turned most of the continent into what you now call the Shatter." she explained. "We were quick to investigate, in case there were any threats remaining for our people."

"Oh. I see." Endrance replied. "So, what about the humans and Ironsoul?"

"Despite the few skirmishes and border intrusions, they've been far better neighbors than the Mercanians had been." she answered. "Mostly it was their dragon that had us concerned. Mastodon was ancient, even as far as dragons were concerned."

Endrance did a double-take. “Wait, you knew about that?” Endrance asked, surprised.

Eleale glanced at him. “Many of us were around before Ironsoul was founded. Black dragons of that size don’t just disappear just because some humans set up shop. We were surprised that he didn’t wipe out your species.”

Endrance considered Eleale’s words. "Well, if he wasn't dead, he would have shown himself since then, yes?"

Valzoa approached the wheel, taking the steps up two at a time. "Perhaps, perhaps not!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Dragons, demons, all manner of beasts can be harmed by truesilver. It's not like Joven didn't deal him a serious blow. Even if he would eventually regenerate from his other wounds, you likely gave him a wound that will never fully heal."

"Great." Endrance groaned, turning to look out over the side of the ship. "I wonder where he's gone then."

"You've been told about the Shatter yet?" Valzoa asked. Endrance nodded. "Good. Perhaps we'll find the answers to that there."

Eleale pursed her lips. "He still hasn't told me how he knows where we're going." she said. Valzoa held out a hand, and the pilot sighed loudly and plunked a coin into his hand. "Thank you." Valzoa said in a singsong tone. He winked at Endrance and walked back down the steps to the main deck.

The elf at the wheel finally glanced at Endrance, making brief eye contact. "I don't want to talk about it." she said after a brief moment's silence. The wizard turned away, rolling his eyes.

"All right. I better go see to Giselle's lessons then." he said, deciding that he wasn't going to pry into their bet.

After he went back belowdecks, Valzoa called up to the pilot. "He ask?"

She shook her head. "No." she replied.

"Damn."

The pilot held up a hand and caught the coin flung at her with casual grace. "Breaking even with the great Valzoa? I'll take it." she said with a faint smile on her face as she pocketed the money.

****

Hours passed, and Endrance started on Giselle’s education. Giselle wasn't exactly a problem to teach; she could focus and pick up information surprisingly fast for a child. The problem Endrance was having was with her attention span; or — rather — her lack of one.

They had appropriated the use of the mess hall, a small centralized room belowdecks where food was served. Considering the smaller size of the ship, the tables were grown out of the walls on either side of the doors in and out of the room, and stools rose from the wooden floor to seat five on each side. Endrance and Giselle had taken up the floor in the center of the room. Endrance was using the open space to have control over the possible magical energies that could develop while teaching.

Endrance sighed as Giselle got distracted by something rattling around the room as the ship shifted with the current. "Giselle!" Endrance called her attention again. "Is there a problem?"

"No! No…" Giselle replied, her gaze snapping back to him. "I'm sorry. I just… there's so many things…" she huffed, her shoulders sagging. "It's hard to concentrate."

Endrance realized that he was holding his breath, and let it out slowly. "Perhaps teaching you while we're on a journey was a bad idea." he said, reaching out and patting her on the head. "Even I'd have a hard time concentrating if it weren't… well, for my library…"

"Library?" Giselle asked, confused. "Where? You didn't bring any books with you when we left."

Endrance tapped his temple. "Inside my mind. I have everything I learned in my head, even if I heard it a long time ago. I was taught a technique to shut out the world outside and enter my mind as if it were a building. A mental construct, if you will."

Giselle was quiet for several seconds as she grasped the situation. "Can you teach me how to do it?" she asked finally.

Endrance sighed. "I can try, but if you're already having trouble…" he paused, a thought coming to him. "But… I could do what I did with Selene."

Giselle stared at him wide-eyed as her tail froze in mid-motion. Endrance scowled at her. "What? No, not that." he clarified, surprised that Giselle thought of his relationship with Selene like that. "I mean that I was able to bring her into my library!" he rolled his eye. "You spend too much time with her, I swear."

From beyond the door to the next room, they both heard a voice pipe in. "Does not!" Selene countered from whatever she was doing at the time. Endrance considered entering the library of his mind right then if only to get some privacy.

He looked down at Giselle again. "I'll conclude your lessons for today. Keep practicing on feeling the flow of power through your body. Once you've mastered that we can move onto manipulating it. I'll work on figuring out how to share my library with you until you can make one yourself."

He stood, leaving Giselle as she closed her eyes and tried again to concentrate. While she worked, he softly walked over to the source of her distractions and picked it up. Someone had not secured a tin cup and it had slipped off one of the tables. He left into the kitchen side doors, smiling back at Selene as she looked up from her preparations for the meal to come, put the cup away, and hesitated just before he stepped back into the mess hall. He leaned against the doorframe and simply watched Giselle as she tried again and again to willingly become aware of the flows of magical power in her meridians.

This is the hardest part. Endrance thought. Breaking through a conceptual boundary so large that most people can't even see the top. I would have thought that a naturally magical creature like Giselle would have an easier time. Though she has made excellent progress with everything leading up to it.

Perhaps it is not a conceptual boundary, Gullin offered. The familiar was roosting in a burning brazier in their bedroom. But rather a cultural one. She was raised by the wolfmen for the formative years of her life. They taught her that they no longer could do magic.

Endrance nodded, though Gullin would only receive a faint impression of agreement in response since he wasn't present. True. Maybe I'm looking at this wrong. Suggestions?

The mental construct idea would be effective, though you may find difficulty bringing her into yours. Gullin advised. You could bring Selene in through the binding link you two share. If she were not half-demon, you'd not be able to bring her at all.

Still, it gives me an idea. Endrance replied. Giselle was obviously struggling, her face scrunched up as her ears trembled. I'll need some time to sort it out, but it should work.

Get to it. Her progress depends on it.

Endrance pushed off the doorframe and walked back into the mess hall. Striding past Giselle, he spoke.

"Make sure you move when everyone comes in for dinner." he told her, taking the other door out.

Endrance closed the door and took the next immediately to his right, leading into his cabin. He had been offered the captain's cabin for the vessel but had declined, instead leaving it to Valzoa who had a much higher standard of living in Endrance’s estimation. The cabin was arranged to provide bedding for six on beds built into the walls of the room, stacked two high. It was enough space for Endrance and his companions and though it was tight quarters he was enjoying the privacy and closeness it imparted on him.

Inside, Joven snored softly in his bunk, his leg hanging off the side of his bed. In the bunk underneath, Giselle’s things were scattered from when she had gotten dressed that morning. Bridget was somewhere else, though Tanya was reclining on her bunk and fiddling with an arrow. Her mouth ticked up in one corner when she saw him, and she waved the arrow like she would her hand in greeting.

“You’ve been busy already.” she says quietly. “And here I thought I would have to chase you down in order to get some time alone with you.”

Endrance shook his head with a sigh. “You know me. Always running from one fire to the next.”

Tanya straightened a little, just barely checking her movement before she knocked her head on the bunk above her. “There’s a fire?” she asked, alarmed.

Endrance’s eyes widened, and he held out his hands. “No! No… Metaphor. Just saying how there’s always an emergency I need to tend to.”

Tanya relaxed. “Good.” she mutters. “That there’s no fire.” she clarifies, glancing back at him.

Endrance pulled one of the trunks out so that he could sit next to her. “I have some other stuff I have to do, but I have time to talk. What’s going on? Are you feeling well?” he asked, giving her a gentle smile.

The Draugnoa sighed. “I’ve never been on a sailing ship before.” she admitted, touching her forehead. “But I get so dizzy it’s hard for me to stay standing, much less be useful in a fight.”

Endrance frowned. “Well, I think it’s different for everyone, but you did just narrowly escape a fatal head wound… so maybe this is a side effect.”

“It’s terrible.” she says. “And to top it off, I have not been able to make straight arrows anymore.”

“Oh?” Endrance asked as he mentally started clearing his thoughts in preparation of casting difficult magic. “Has that been since your fall?”

Tanya shook her head slightly. “I was able to make a few before I blacked out. But ever since you healed me and I hadn’t had any need to make any, since you had magicked up a bunch for me.” She frowned, “Those are still the best arrows I have.”

Endrance smiled. “I’ll make you some more tonight.” he assured her. “But let me see if I can find out what’s wrong. Is that okay?”

Tanya nodded. “All right. Just don’t… mess with my thoughts, okay?” she asked.

Endrance was reminded that even for the Draugnoa, and the barbarians of Balator in general, having magic used on them wasn’t much different from using magic, something that had been taboo for centuries. Events in recent history had done much to change that, but there were still emotional artifacts of fear and suspicion in even his wives. He had saved her from a bleed in her brain and even restored broken bones, yet they still —in their hearts— were afraid.

“Ah. fine.” he replied, mock-pouting at her. “But I was so set on making you think about a blue moose anytime someone said ‘dinner’...”

Tanya stiffened, staring at him for several seconds before groaning and collapsing back on her cot. “Gods damn it.” she growled.

“I guess I didn’t need to use magic.” Endrance chortled. He reached out and touched her temple with his left hand. “Please remain still.” he directed, putting some command into his tone. Tanya followed his directions.

The wizard pulled power from his aura and channeled it through his body, shaping it with his free hand and reinforcing it with words of power. As the spell completed he touched the fore and middle fingers of his right hand to the same spot on her temple as his left hand.

“Visanguis.” Endrance incanted, completing the spell.

Immediately he became aware of the condition of Tanya’s head, comprehended as simply as if it were something he’d always known.

“Ah. I think I see the problem.” Endrance replied. “I was able to heal the bulk of the damage, but there’s a little scarring inside your head that’s just barely interfering with your balance and casual hand-eye coordination. You wouldn’t have noticed it during a fight since your adrenaline would help you compensate for any shaking in your hands, but I can see this will be a problem. I’ll need to repair that scarring. It might… hurt.”

He mostly told her the last part to stop her from making any movements while he worked.

Tanya grunted. “I dealt with more.”

Endrance sighed. “Very well. I will begin.”

Tanya closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. Endrance took a deep breath as he maintained contact with her temple. Letting his breath out, he started incanting the series of spells that he would need to not only specifically target her scarring, but also shield the rest of her from his power so that she wasn’t burned up by the spell’s energies flowing through her for the duration. He used far less power than the spell required; he was worried that such a delicate part as a brain might not be able to handle anything more.

Several minutes later Endrance pulled his shaking hands away from her head. “I’ve done what I can.” he said. “But without Pentarch, I can only do this much.”

Tanya opened her eyes, looking over at him. “So can I move now?” she asked.

Endrance nodded. The Draugnoa rose into a sitting position on the bed, touching her head.

“I don’t feel that different.” she replied.

Endrance frowned. “Still feeling dizzy? I thought I had it…” His eyebrows bunched up as he tried to figure out where he went wrong.

“I mean my hands aren’t trembling…” Tanya replied, running her hands through her hair. “But… why do I still feel sick?”

Endrance shook his head. “Maybe I didn’t heal it well enough. I didn’t want to risk burning you out so I used a very light touch. Here, I can fix this.”

Endrance tried again, this time putting the normal amounts of power into his spell. He kept the other spells in place, ones that would allow his spell energy to target only scarred areas. He finished the final word of power and this time he felt a pulse through his hand into her. His left eye socket suddenly flared into a powerful itch, and Endrance felt a moment of panic shoot through him. Had the eye tried to infect her? He crushed that thought instantly; the truesilver eyepatch he had created would contain anything short of the curse’s final moments.

Faint golden light seemed to radiate from around Tanya’s head, but also her hands, feet, and a few small spots on her body. Tanya let out a gasp as she sat up a little straighter.

“What?” she asked, sounding breathless.

Endrance pulled his hands away from her head, looking her over. “I just… used the spell normally.” he replied, worried. “I had originally assembled it when I was in the Bastille to treat Bridget’s arm…” he started to explain, his voice trailing off as he realized Tanya was staring at her hands.

“What?” he asked.

“I… my hands… they’re smooth.” Tanya replied. “I used to practice with the bow for hours at a time, until my fingers bled. There were many thin scars all over my hands and wrists from when I was first learning. I also had marks from other injuries during battles fought.” She looked up at him. “They’re all gone.”

Endrance grimaced. “Is that… a bad thing?” he asked, remembering his conversation with Giselle not the other day.

She clenched and unclenched her fists. “I don’t even have the calluses anymore.” she murmured.

“I’m sorry.” Endrance apologized, hanging his head. “I was only trying to help.”

Tanya did her best to smile at him. “Well, I’m no longer dizzy.” she said. After a few seconds she looked past him to the door. “I’m going to go outside… get some fresh air.”

Endrance nodded, not looking up from the floor. “Sure.” he replied, dejected.

Tanya softly closed the door after leaving the room. Endrance sighed, listening to the sound of Joven’s snoring. He didn’t feel like he had failed Tanya, yet somehow healing her didn’t feel like a victory either. He had fixed her problem, but created another one for her. He pondered how he could fix the problem.

He stood and rolled into the cot that Tanya had just departed. He winced, shifting onto his side and feeling around behind him until he came up with the arrow Tanya had set down before he healed her. Staring at it, he frowned.

Was it wrong to reach for magic as my first solution for everything? He mulled over the subject while the vessel gently rocked on the river waters.

Gullin replied after a few moments, not realizing the wizard’s thoughts weren’t actually a question. You restored serious damage to Tanya’s brain. She can earn new scars or work until she has callouses again. It is a small price to pay to be healed.

Do you think that it’s enough to fix Bridget’s arm? Endrance asked, turning the arrow over in his hands. The grain of the wood was unnaturally stretched, evidence of his own reshaping of the arrow.

Gullin hesitated. There is not enough information to make that conclusion. You have healed long-healed scars, but that is different from regenerating an entire missing limb. She also does not seem to wish her arm replaced.

I guess… I’m still dwelling on past mistakes. The wizard huffed. Setting the arrow down next to the bed. Well, I should try to get this lesson finished before dinner.

Indeed. I will be here if you need assistance. The Fjallar comforted his master, not able to do much more than that.

Actually… what about you? Endrance asked. I was able to bring Selene into my mind because of our link—

I would not do that. Gullin interrupted.

Why not?

I… would not fit. the Fjallar replied.

Endrance rolled his eyes mentally. Look I know you’re big, but size isn’t an issue inside the mind.

It is, Endrance. I primarily exist on an entirely different realm, where the laws of reality are different from yours, and my very will is part of the cosmos around me. It is only by the familiar bindings that even our thoughts are able to be understood without my voice shattering your mind with the slightest of syllables.

Endrance stared up at the bunk above him. That’s… intense. he replied.

Indeed. Gullin replied. I am glad, however, that you did not attempt to do this until now. Earlier, my lesser size would have led to a misunderstanding.

Are all familiars like that? Endrance asked.

… No. Gullin replied. Forming a familiar binding with as powerful of a creature as I is solely within the power of the Mercanian Empire. I suspect your mother had studied your father’s binding circle and built a template to scribe you with.

Endrance groaned. That means that he’s going to have a familiar of your caliber when we confront him.

The Fjallar didn’t respond immediately, but Endrance felt the bird’s emotions twist painfully across the link.

Perhaps. he finally replied. It would depend on the accuracy of Valeria’s reproduction.

Endrance sat up, almost smashing his head into the bunk above him. Gods, Gullin! He exclaimed. Can he summon YOU?

… Gullin…?

Of course not, Endrance. The Fjallar finally replied. If he had stolen me from you, our link would be broken and I would not be here.

Endrance slowly lowered himself back into the bed. That is not reassuring.

I know. I am sorry. The familiar replied. Endrance could sense that Gullin was experiencing some kind of emotional conflict. A nagging sense of suspicion wormed its way through Endrance’s heart. He hated that he had to suspect his own familiar, but he believed a changed allegiance was far more possible than Gullin was letting on. Even if he wasn’t compromised… Endrance decided that he should operate under the assumption he was. There was just no way he could take that chance.

Thank you, Gullin. he finally replied. That is good to hear. Now, I guess I’ll work on my lessons. Alert me if something happens.

Understood. Gullin’s word both acknowledged his order, but the tone of his voice basically told Endrance that he had seen through his misdirection and was very well aware of his still-standing suspicion.

Gullin? Endrance called to him. Thank you. For everything you’ve done to help. I couldn’t have done this without you.

The Fjallar merely replied with a warm sensation of gratitude.

Endrance set his mind to designing a way to make teaching Giselle more effective.

Chapter Eleven

Joven had left while Endrance was in the library of his mind, leaving him alone in his bunk while he meditated. Soon enough Selene came in to rouse him for dinner, and he joined them in the small mess. Four of the elves ate quietly, while Joven, Selene, Tanya, and Bridget took up a whole side of the room.

Giselle had gotten out of the center of the room as he requested, and was sitting on a stool to the side, eating her meal. Endrance could see her frustration only because he had the imprint of a wolf elder in his mind, and could read her body language as clearly as one could a member of their own species. The hairs on her neck bristled, and her tail swished sporadically as she snapped up her food aggressively.

“You did fine, Giselle.” Endrance said, trying to comfort the flustered wolf-girl. “You’ve been making good progress, especially since I’ve never had a student before. I’m most likely doing this wrong.”

“Endrance!” Selene chided. “You’re doing fine.”

Bridget took a drink of water. “If she turns out even half as good as you, you’ve done better than all the other mages I’ve encountered.”

Endrance sighed. “Not like you have seen that many. The rest of the mages I knew of are either dead, in hiding, or now my enem–"

As he was speaking, his senses burst out into an almost numbing buzz that rapidly peaked. At nearly the same time the ship suddenly rocked, sending many tumbling off their seats.

“Attack!” one of the elves called from above decks. Everyone scrambled to their feet and started pushing through the door out of the galley.

“Endrance! Come on!” Joven shouted back, having already escaped the galley with great speed.

Endrance shook his head. “I’ll be right there!”

Above, the deck shook again with a resounding boom. Endrance didn’t waste time; he chanted words of power and released his spell. He appeared up on the aftcastle, and took stock of the situation as the first of the elves came out from below. The late day sky was cloudy and threatening to rain. Joven burst out onto the deck and performed a double-take when he saw Endrance already standing on the aftcastle, the mage’s robes flaring in the wind and starting to soak up the rain. The river had turned white with turbulence. On the horizon, Endrance could see the sea. Surprisingly, the river fed into the shore only a stone’s throw from where his last stand with Valeria had been fought. Just thinking of that moment made his eye socket itch and almost broke his concentration.

His senses buzzed as the sensation of magic flared up again, coming from above. He looked up and scanned the sky, but could see no enemies through the clouds. All the hairs on his body stood on end a split second before a bolt of lightning pierced through the clouds and slammed into him. It wasn’t a bolt of lightning like he was used to creating; it was many times larger and felt more like a true bolt of lightning from a storm. His wards had been active, but he hadn’t had time to bring them up to full strength. The lightning bolt knocked him to the deck, pain exploding through him as thunder boomed. His wards shattered under the hit, causing his meridians to flare with light. His ears rang and he couldn’t get his bearings. If his attacker could hit him again, there would be nothing he could do about it.

The second bolt of lightning cracked down on him almost immediately after the first. Joven had been charging up the stairs to his aid, but was only halfway up the steps when a blur shot past him. The lightning exploded as the blur managed to intercept it at the last second, the brilliant crackle of light and deafening sound exploding against an elven form.

Valzoa’s rapier caught the lightning bolt, the tip of the shimmering blade piercing and absorbing the electrical fury in a moment that seemed drawn out in time. The elven man looked down at the dazed mage and winked.

“Sorry about that, missed one.” he said with a smirk, lowering his rapier. “Someone is attracting some powerful elementals. So if you don’t mind… I’ll just go return this.”

The fencer drew back his rapier and stabbed into the sky, and lightning blasted out from Valzoa’s rapier and into the sky. With a rush of wind, Valzoa was carried into the clouds. Above, thunder boomed again but didn’t crash down into the ship. Joven reached the mage, reaching out to help pick him up. Endrance shook his head, standing on his own.

“Seen a lot of elves now.” Joven said, staring up at the sky. “That still seems weird.”

Endrance sighed. “I’ve studied the elves magic.” he says, gesturing at the sky. “That is weird.”

Thunder boomed, and the clouds lit up with the silhouette of Valzoa continuing to dance and fight with numerous strobing clusters of crackling light.

“Well no matter how weird it is, we need to help him, yeah?” Joven said, scratching his head. “Tanya, can you–"

The Draugnoa put one booted foot up on the ship rail, drew back on her bow, and let fly an arrow. Tanya’s shot arced into the clouds, and was met by a resounding clash of thunder and burst of air. The bow was one of the only things Tanya held dear to her, a horn bow that had been engraved with magic by elves, and its effectiveness was evident when she proved able to shoot with astounding accuracy over great distances, and with enough force to punch entirely through even plate armor… if the arrow could remain intact that far. She had exploded quite a few regular arrows before she had started making her own. Endrance had crafted a few arrows for her, but he didn’t want to make any new ones for her until Tanya had proven she could make more on her own again.

“Yeah.” Joven concluded, “I think you can hit them, too.”

Endrance nodded. “She’s got that, you’ll be needed to help with the rest?”

Joven turned to him. “Wait, the rest?” he asked. “There’s just the ones up there.”

Endrance pointed out to the water. “I would guess there’s some form of water elemental rocking the ship.”

Joven leaned over the side and looked over the river shoreline. “No… I don’t think it’s an elemental, unless they come with scales and teeth nowadays.”

Endrance joined Joven at the rail. Looking down, he thought at first it was just the river stirring, but the frothy water revealed a serpentine shape coiling beneath their vessel.

“Huh.” Endrance muttered. “I guess I was wrong?” The wizard looked over at Joven and shrugged. “You got this?”

The barbarian shrugged. “If I don’t, you’ll be the first to know.” Joven replied with a chuckle. Endrance could sense the faintest of tingles of magic as Joven’s abilities bloomed from their idle levels into something that gave the wizard pause, even as powerful as he was now. The barbarian leapt over the railing and into the water. There was a splash followed by a sudden shaking of the deck as Joven found his purchase.

“Wait!” The wizard cried out after his friend. “What about your swords?”

Endrance wondered what that the barbarian could possibly do barehanded to a sea serpent. It turns out, quite a lot. The man erupted out of the water a moment later, his left hand hooked into the creature's nostril, while he punched the beast in the eye with his right. The creature shrieked and flailed, sending sheets of water into the air and crashing against the side of the ship.

The mage turned back to the battle in the air, keeping an eye on the skies above while he paced the deck. Below him Joven seemed to be having little trouble wrangling the creature, though their struggling shoved the ship roughly towards one bank of the river.

Ah, that’s something I can help with. Endrance thought, moving to the opposite side of the deck and beginning an incantation. He wove together strands of power with gestures and mudras, and gave them strength with words of power. When he released the spell, the water on that side of the ship surged along the vessel, nudging it closer to the center of the river whenever it got so close to the shore. Endrance let out a sigh of relief. They were getting close to the ocean, and from there the Shatter, so he didn’t want to let something like that get in the way.

Looking over the Shatter, Endrance noticed that the region directly over the broken continent was rife with storms and worse. A curtain of rain and tumultuous clouds seemed to form a clear border between normal ocean and the domain of the Shatter. Among the distant rain he could see that there was a column of snowfall that must have been about a mile in diameter right in the middle of a storm. Lightning bolts danced along storm clouds in dazzling arrays of colors and shapes.

That looks bad. I hope that we can find some kind of way through it. He mused.

There was a shudder that ran through the ship, and a tremendous CRACK that had Endrance certain that the mast had been snapped off somehow for the split second it took for him to turn his head. Around the vessel the waters went still.

From somewhere overboard a familiar voice called out. “Got it!” Joven shouted. “Throw me a rope, this thing looks edible!”

As some of the crew moved to aid the barbarian, Endrance barely caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. Turning back to the Shatter, he stared across the intervening distance, unsure of what he was looking for. The light of the suns glimmered on the water coming up to the shore, and it was that glimmer that tricked his vision. He didn’t recognize the ripple in the air rushing towards them until it was too late to do anything about it.

To normal humans, animals, and most living beings, the chaotic scramble of magical energy that flooded over the ship and sent elf and Endrance alike tumbling to the deck would have only felt marginally uncomfortable. The elves, whose magical nature was merely supplemental to their existence, found the experience unpleasant, perhaps mildly painful if they were actually using magic at the time. Spells simply ended, their patterns shredded in the maelstrom. To Endrance, whose very life force was blended with magical power, it felt like half of his soul had been torn out, ripped into pieces, and then wadded together into a ball before being shoved back into him violently. He hadn’t even realized that he had thrown up and passed out until after he came to in a smeared pool of his own vomit a few seconds later.

“By all magic… what was that?” Endrance spat, trying to clear the unpleasant sensation from his mouth and his body.

He managed to get one foot underneath him before a second pulse of pure magical chaos crashed into him, sending him sprawling back onto the deck. He lay on his back, his vision blurred and distorted, noting almost whimsically that a blur that looked vaguely like Valzoa fell out of the sky and into the water. Somehow, the elf had managed to make screaming and falling look dignified. Bridget, from her side of the ship, looked down at her wooden arm in irritation as it spasmed, twitched, and sprouted a twig several inches long from her elbow. Selene sank to the planks, hugging herself as her face flushed inappropriately, her skin prickling with gooseflesh. Tanya, paused in the middle of drawing an arrow, looking around the deck in confusion.

“What the hells?” she muttered.

Any elf that was within his sight were staggering as they tried to pull themselves together. Eleale crawled over to him, hooking a hand onto his collar before starting to drag him belowdecks. A third wave of chaos struck just as they reached the stairs, and they slid down the wet wooden steps as they convulsed and thrashed in the deadly storm's effect.

It was a wonder they didn’t break their necks, but the both of them made it to the bottom with only a few sprains and several bruises. The female’s elbow was firmly planted in his crotch, while his face was somehow caught between her knees facing the floor, but they were intact.

“This is painful.” Eleale groaned, untangling from the mage. “So graceful.”

“Tell me about it.” Endrance agreed. “The hells was that?”

“That, mage.” Eleale muttered, struggling to her feet, looking nauseated. “Was the Shatter.”

A fourth wave of chaotic magical power struck before they could get the door open, and Endrance discovered that the elves could make anything, even vomiting, look graceful.

Chapter Twelve

Endrance spent hours staring out at the water. Sitting on an ocean cliff, he let his feet dangle off the edge. He glared at the far off topography of the Shatter with much the same expression that his mother had. Looking around, he realized that he could see the black dusty remains of the boulder Valeria had destroyed, only a few hundred yards away. So he was not only clueless on how to proceed, he was almost literally right back where he started. Sighing, Endrance put his chin in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees as he stared at the water.

The flows of power through the land were beyond chaotic. It wasn’t like his antimagic tabs, which he couldn’t even use anymore because they made him sick. Those were like fine sprays of mist coming off the shore. The flows of power in the Shatter were a typhoon compared to that. Any being suffused with magical power, such as a Mercanian, half-Mercanian, or a litch would have their very animating force shredded from them instantly. It was only because Endrance still had life energy flowing through him that he was conscious after having skimmed the surface of such a storm.

After a year of being free, it was no wonder that Malchoir had made so little progress traversing the territory. It’s not that he could know for certain where Malchoir was, but he knew from what he had discerned using what resources were available to him that the Mercanian had not reached his destination yet.

Still, Endrance had no idea how Malchoir had made any progress at all, but he had possibly thousands of years more experience than he did. It was likely there was a route he had taken or some kind of protection he could use. Valzoa, with his ability to fly at incredible speeds, had taken off to explore the Shatter from above and see if there was a weaker ‘current’ of magic they could sail through safely.

And now Endrance had the same conundrum of his parents, though with a little more to work with than Valeria — Malchoir, though, was an entirely different beast. Still, he thought that he perhaps had an advantage over them; his entire career as a mage had been under pressure and against foes more powerful than him. This situation was dire, but not impossible in his mind.

The problem he was facing was twofold. The first problem was that the magical chaos was physically dangerous to him. The second problem was that if the chaos of the Shatter was so dangerous to him then he would find it practically impossible to cast any spells. The only thing that would survive such a maelstrom would be items imbued with a stable pattern, like his bracers or the eyepatch he had created. Their pattern of magic was stabilized by being worked into an immutable object, which meant that if Endrance wanted to figure out a way to get through the Shatter quickly, he’d need to figure out how to make his own ‘pattern’ stable too.

Which meant he would have to spend time working on some thing that will shield him from the Shatter’s influence. He would also need to create a way to defend himself while in the Shatter without using his magic.

When Endrance looked up, the suns had made significant progress across the sky. The ship was anchored about three hundred yards from the shore, beautiful and quiet as the elven mercenaries set about repairing it from the near catastrophic damage it had received. Behind him, Joven, Selene, Tanya, and Bridget had set up tents and a cookfire. Joven was roasting what had to be a three foot diameter by one foot thick disk of sea serpent meat complete with bone, while Selene worked on patching the lightning scours on her favorite shirt. Giselle squatted near the fire, sniffing the roasting sea serpent with a hungry gleam in her eye. Any nausea she felt during the storm had abated in the short time they had been on land.

Bridget was sitting on the ground next to Tanya, her face irritated. Not only was she not able to participate in the battle with the sea serpent or elementals, one stray lightning bolt had hit the deck right next to her, causing her hair to stand on end. Tanya frowned as she fussed with Bridget’s now poofy head of hair, wielding a comb and a hairbrush in either hand.

“Still not going down?” Endrance asked.

Bridget huffed. Tanya looked over at him and shrugged with a frown. “Been trying to comb it down for three hours.” she adds, “Tried oils, tried grounding her, can’t even get enough together to tie into a tail or something.”

Endrance hesitated. “Uh… Well maybe you should seek a professional for help?” he offered. “That being me.”

Selene leaned over to Tanya and asked in a stage whisper, “Wait, when did he learn elven hair magic?”

Endrance got up and walked over to their campsite. “No magic; an elf’s hair just does that naturally. But I do happen to have the memories of a woman who had long hair for collectively eight-hundred years or so, barring a few decades here and there she cut it short. Mages have electricity-induced hair issues once in a while, you know?”

Joven grunted. “Sounds like he’s got you there.” the big man muttered, maintaining his focus on the meat. The meat was going to take a while to cook.

Sighing, Bridget leaned towards Endrance. “Great. Now he’s also a master of hair.” she complained as Endrance went to work. “Next thing you know he’ll also master nine weapon styles and be able to heft Balator on his shoulders.”

The mage simply frowned at her as he siphoned some of the elemental energy out of her hair with the spellscribing on his left palm. “What, you seem to have me confused for Joven again.” he joked, smoothing down her hair. He couldn’t help but notice Bridget smile faintly.

In response, the big man grunted. “Eleven.” Joven replied absentmindedly.

“Huh?” Endrance asked as he finished negating the static charge in his Draugnoa’s hair.

Joven casually glanced at him before returning to his cooking. “Eleven weapon styles.” he said, giving the meat a turn. “I can list them if you want.”

Endrance exchanged a glance with Selene before responding. She looked amused. “No, that’s all right, I apologize for getting it wrong.” the mage amended.

Endrance sat quietly for a few minut-es, thinking again on his problems. What did his father have that he didn’t have? Well, time, for one.

The mage shook his head. He needed to stop thinking of what Malchoir had, and instead think about what he had that Malchoir didn’t.

“Want a slice?” Joven asked, drawing Endrance out of his reverie. Endrance looked up and received the slab of sea serpent meat Joven had cut him. Steaming with heat, the food smelled pretty good despite the strange texture. Cutting a chunk off, he took a bite and realized it actually tasted great. Looking over the area, he spotted Giselle slice off an oversized piece of meat and chomp on it heartily. He chuckled. His companions had made his journey easier over the years. Thinking back, he could point out several times where the people close to him made accomplishing his goals even possible. The sacrifices that were made, the hard and happy times they had, all of it had made it so that Endrance could get to where he was now. He just couldn’t believe that this was as far as he could go.

A revelation struck him causing him to jump to his feet, scattering his plate and utensils into the air as he cried out. Giselle managed to snag the meat out of the air with her teeth, but the plate sailed over her head. Joven snagged the knife out of the air without looking and stuck it into the remaining roast by the fire before continuing to chew his food.

“Ah!” Endrance cried out. “It’s so simple! I’ve been so stupid!”

Bridget suppressed a grin. “Resisting urge to…” she muttered to Tanya, who giggled. Selene scowled at him.

“Endrance.” she said. “We don’t have that many plates, you know.”

“Who cares about plates?” he exclaimed, looking between the bewildered members of the group. “I figured out how to get through here! You!” he gestured emphatically at the barbarians assembled. “I have you!”

Bridget nodded patiently. “Yes.” she said, “You have us. Your point?”

Joven swallowed his bite. “He means that we are something that his Mercanian father could never have.” the big man added. “Balator fought off their magic before, and could probably do so again.”

Endrance nodded. “Because you had something that protected your people from powerful magic.” he added. “Something that resided deep within your mountain.”

Thinking, Selene stood up. “Those crystals we found in the cavern behind your longhouse?” she asked. “They were pretty, but didn’t really do anything.”

Nodding, Endrance took her hands. “Yes!” he said. “They were part of what made your kingdom so resilient! They absorb magical power! I have parts of them in my bracers and a few other objects, but the way they’re naturally found wouldn’t help me unless… I figure out a way to cover myself.”

Joven chuckled, cutting a new chunk of meat for his plate. “Like what, grind it up and wear it like some kind of body powder?” he asked. “You’d look like you rolled around in flour.”

The mage snapped his fingers. “Something like that, but better.” Endrance stated. “Joven, do you still know any good smiths in Balator, someone who works with black iron?”

Joven nodded, chewing.

“Excellent!” Endrance crowed, hugging Selene. “We need to take a detour. It’s about time I made myself some armor!”

“Oh thank god!” Tanya exclaimed, laughing. “Maybe this way you won’t get your butt kicked so often.”

“But no,” Bridget mocked. “My wards are better than any armor. No, I can move faster without any armor. No, armor is so clunky and smells bad… Took you long enough.”

“Does… this mean we can get armor too?” Giselle asked. “I don’t wanna get hurt either.”

Tanya patted the wolf on the head. “Sure, we’ll get everyone something.”

Endrance disengaged from holding Selene. “I’ll signal Valzoa’s mercenaries, let him know we’re going to take a side trip and to hold position here.”

Eleale came to land and took his report, acknowledging that they were going to be gone for at least a day, and promised to inform Valzoa when he returned. They would continue to search for a safe route through the Shatter that didn’t take them too far from the coastline, and would either return to this spot or leave a message for their return. Endrance promised to return with something from the barbarian capital. Satisfied, Endrance gathered his companions together, cast his spell, and slashed the air before them. The group stepped through the glittering starry blackness and disappeared from the coastline.

Chapter Thirteen

The capital city of Balator was not nearly as full as Endrance typically thought it would be, since most if not everyone capable of serving in battle was still occupying what used to be Ironsoul. However, many established services and businesses within the barbarian kingdom remained in operation and that was to his advantage. Their most experienced smiths and ironworkers remained in the capitol while their apprentices practiced their trade abroad, repairing the weapons damaged on the battlefield.

The group of them arrived in the open, untouched ground in front of the Spengur’s longhouse. Though it was still light out, the suns were dwindling on the horizon and the mountain’s shade cut into the available light. The stone structure was dark, evidence that no one had entered it since they had last been there some weeks prior. The sudden difference in cold mountain air from the warm coastal air he had just previously occupied chilled Endrance to the bone almost instantly, and he slipped a small trickle of power to some of his spellscribing, circulating warm air around him and fighting off the cold. Giselle looked at the collective shiver that ran through the group and chuffed, amused.

The longhouse was situated in the seventh bowl of the city, next to the temples and religious foundations the barbarians followed. However, most of the smaller temples and buildings were closed up with simple signs hung over the doors with a pair of crossed swords on it. It was easy to understand, since most of the people of Balator didn’t read: Gone to War.

Joven looked around, nodded, and pointed down the mountain. “Can you take us to my family’s place?” he asked. “We can rest there while I locate the smith.”

“And you can see your family.” Endrance added. “But first, I need to go get something. Might take a while.”

Joven nodded. “Go.” he said, gesturing to the longhouse. “We’ll head down on foot.”

“Bridget? I need your help.” the mage stated, setting off towards the longhouse. Bridget glanced at the rest of the group, shrugged, and took off after him while Selene and Tanya pulled cold weather clothing out of their packs. Giselle looked between the two groups, and had just started to run after Endrance when Joven snagged her by the back of her shirt, dragging her back.

Endrance entered the longhouse, pushed his way into the bedroom, and stopped at the door leading to the hot spring. When Bridget caught up, he carefully opened the door and paced his way down the narrow path outside. The hot spring had been left mostly untouched, the only exception being a panel of wooden planks erected up against the far stone wall of the relatively tiny space nestled in the mountainside. The only real way to access the spring was to either take the path he was on, or climb the jagged rocky mountainside. The hot spring itself wasn’t very deep, but it steamed with warmth and smelled faintly mineral. Endrance noticed that there were still scorch marks in the stone around the wooden barrier from when he had crashed into it while fighting one of Kaelob’s disciples.

“Bridget, could you tear this down please?” he asked, pointing to the wooden structure.

The Draugnoa smirked. “What, you don’t have a spell for that?” she asked, walking over and seizing one side.

In response Endrance shrugged. “I’m… trying to go for a low-magic solution. I’ve been frustrated with my reliance on magic.”

Bridget yanked, wrenching a plank off before grabbing another. “Well, you’re a mage. That’s kind of what you do.” she grunted, quickly dismantling the barrier. “I’d be worried if you stopped trying to do magic.”

“Well, while we’re in the Shatter, I’m going to have to refrain from doing so.” he said, a tinge of regret in his voice. “Which means that I’ll be needing to rely on you more than ever.”

Bridget hesitated a split second before tearing another plank down. “I guess that’s fine.” she replied. “I will be honest, I was getting kind of bored, what with you being able to solve most of these problems with a snap of your fingers.”

The wizard sighed. “I know. I realized I was starting to develop quite the hubris.”

“The what?” she asked.

“I was starting to get a big head.” Endrance amended. “Full of myself. Overconfident.”

The Draugnoa tossed the final plank of wood aside. “It’s okay to be confident in your skills. But you also have to be cautious. If you think you are the best, then you’re no longer going to improve.”

“That’s… some deep wisdom.” Endrance admitted.

“Coming from me?” Bridget gave him a look that was almost a glare. “Sorry if you’re used to better pep talks.”

“No! Actually that’s really helpful.” Endrance replied apologetically. “Where did you hear that?”

Bridget stepped into the cavern, careful with her footing. “Anna used to tell me that all the time when I was a brat.”

Endrance followed. The cavern hadn’t been touched much after Endrance’s battle within it, except clearing out the body of the mage who had died here. Crystalphage formations of varying sizes and mass jutted through the stone, each glowing with amber light. Further ahead, easily missed, was a convolution of the walls of the cavern that concealed what his imprints confirmed was a passage.

“There.” he said, pointing to the section. “We go through here.”

“There’s plenty of crystals here.” Bridget objected. “Can’t we just grab some of these?”

Endrance paused, making sure the memories he had from Valeria’s imprint were correct. “No, these are good for some purposes, but they’re not very pure. We need to go deeper.”

“Fine.” Bridget huffed.

“Not much farther.” Endrance assured her with a smile. “We shortcut most of what we would have had to walk by going through here.”

“How do you know that?” Bridget asked.

The wizard tapped his temple. “Ah, I have the memories of both King Kalenden and my mother Valeria in my head. He explored these areas often and she had made a survey of the caverns centuries ago when she had been visiting her brother.” Endrance stopped, chuckling to himself. “Kalenden had planned on using that cavern next to the hot spring as a way to break some of his men in and assassinate us after we had proclaimed his son the destined hero, it seems.”

Bridget spat. “Bastard.” she growled. “It’s a good thing we did kill him, then.”

Nodding, Endrance continued walking. It only took a few minutes for him to find the right place. The stone was awash in amber light so bright it bordered on pure white. Spokes of Crystalphage several feet thick turned the chamber into a thing of fractal beauty. Endrance walked among the crystals, ducking under some of the spokes and trying not to trip on the formations in the ground.

“So… you never did explain how this all protected our people.” Bridget said, staring in wonder.

“It… well, it absorbed the magical power out of the spells before they could fully manifest.” Endrance patted a crystal, feeling the energy inside hum at his contact like it was bottled lightning. “It’s glowing now because it is full of power from those attacks. I don’t know how much capacity it had, but if given enough time the Mercanians might have been able to overload the mountain’s Crystalphage. Though that would have required them to know how Balator was protected and I’m certain they didn’t.”

Bridget stared at the crystals. “So… we aren’t safe anymore?” she asked. “Is there something you can do about that?”

“Not really, unless I can somehow drain the power out of the crystals.” Endrance responded. “And I don’t really have a place to put the power, though.”

Bridget shrugged. “What about you? I mean, maybe this could, I don’t know, power you up so you are strong enough to fight your father?”

The idea was ridiculous, but something in it resonated with Endrance’s mind. “Let me think.” Endrance paused. “Well, Valeria had some theories on how to manipulate her aura to maximize her ability to safely store power, and Kalenden’s research had some demonic secrets on storing power in their flesh he couldn’t use because he was mortal… and I have some theories of my own. Still, I don’t think I could drain an entire mountain’s power.”

“What if you put all the power into a spell or something?” Bridget asked. “Maybe you could just zap him from here like they tried to do to us long ago?”

Shaking his head, Endrance sat down cross-legged in front of a moderately-sized spoke of Crystalphage in the room. “No, that would be foolish. I don’t even know what kind of spell they used back then, and it’s very likely that it was the spell which created the Shatter in the first place.”

“Oh. Right. Then don’t blow up our homeland.” Bridget responded. “So what are we doing here then?”

Endrance murmured a few words, formed the proper mudras with his hands, and conjured up a single phantom blade. It felt somewhat appropriate to use magic invented by the mage Endrance had fought in a similar chamber not too far from where they sat now. Steadying himself, he swung the blade at the crystal near the base. The sword flashed, the blade vanishing into the brightening crystal in a swirl of violet light. Looking up at Bridget, he tapped the spoke.

“I needed you to break off a big enough piece to take with us to the blacksmith. The problem is I don’t think I’ll be able to teleport the raw crystal until I have a chance to examine its properties in detail and I can’t do that while it is still connected to the mountain.”

Examining the crystal Endrance indicated, Bridget nodded. “I’ll get the tools to cut this. You just stay here and do… whatever it is you do to handle these things.”

She left the chamber, heading back to inform the rest of what they were going to do and get the tools she needed, and Endrance closed his eyes to meditate on the matter.

He hadn’t lied to her, but he hadn’t been entirely honest either. He had already figured out all the details he needed to transport the crystal down the mountain. He hadn’t, however, been fully intent on dismissing her idea of absorbing what power he could. It would be dangerous, but the amount of strength gained could possibly give him the edge he needed to defeat Malchoir.

All right. First thing is going to be preparing the vessel. Endrance thought, going through the memories he had of Kalenden’s studies of demonic entities. Reserves of power can be kept to allow a demon to sustain themselves in the physical world without a summoner for weeks or even months by the refinement of nexus points within the meridian flows. These nexus points can be expanded to become reservoirs of power. The weak and incompetent will be burned up from inside by their failure.

Endrance continued to review the information, and even had a moment of joy observing Kalenden’s painful memories of trying to perform the refinement and hurting himself in the process. It was mostly because Kalenden was still human, as human as any barbarian was at least. Endrance was a different matter altogether, and he had managed to get a feel for the process by the time Bridget had returned.

Getting up, the mage stepped aside and helped direct her efforts until they had managed to dislodge the crystal. The glowing mass of Crystalphage was as big around as a sack of grain and much heavier. Bridget grunted as she hauled the thing up, shouldering it as she nodded to him and started to walk out.

“Do you mind if I stay here a bit longer?” Endrance asked.

Bridget shrugged with her human shoulder, letting her wooden limb handle the bulk of the lifting. “Do what you want. Be at Joven’s family house for supper or I’ll have to come get you.” she said, carrying the glowing stone off. Endrance considered helping her, but realized that it was probably safest to just let her do it her way. After all, no one in their right mind would try to accost a Draugnoa walking down the streets carrying a huge luminescent rock, even if it hadn’t been culturally reinforced that they were to be ignored at all costs.

Settling down, Endrance sat with his back up against the largest crystal formation in the chamber, and closed his eyes. Expanding the root nexus is paramount to success, as it serves as the foundation for all other refinements…

It was somewhat depressing to him, now that he thought about it. He’s had this information in his head since before he had been recalled back to Ironsoul, and he had kept the information locked away out of fear. Now that he had attained a much greater mastery, albeit an artificially obtained one, such information was not frightening to him in the least. It was just that, information. In retrospect, what Kalenden knew was far and away a bucket of water compared to the lake that Kaelob knew, or the sea that Valeria had accomplished. If he had just used this information sooner, he could have been far better off than he had been.

The conflict in his head started to undermine his concentration, and he gave up trying to refine anything while he wrestled with his conscience. He could see how having embraced this magic sooner would have saved a lot of heartache and pain in the past, but he also recognized how it only exacerbated the problem of leaning too heavily on his own magic to solve problems. Would he have been able to know the right thing to do back then, if he had been so pumped up on his power? Would he have been trapped in the Bastille longer because he was strong enough to think he could make his way out with brute force?

He didn’t have any answers. He didn’t think he would have them any time soon. But he did know that now, at this point in time in his life, he had been tempered by caution. He would be able to do this now, because it was what was needed, and whether or not he should use magic could be contemplated when he had the luxury. As it was, he was beginning to see that it wasn’t about whether or not he should use magic to solve his problems, but rather when he should use it.

Quickly losing track of time, Endrance had managed to refine two of his nexus meridians.

Chapter Fourteen

“Gods damn it, Endrance!” Bridget exclaimed, walking into the chamber. “Why did you make me have to come all the—"

She froze, noticing that the chamber was darker than before.

Endrance looked up at her. “Oh I'm sorry” he said, wobbling as he started to stand. “I kind of lost track of time.”

Bridget huffed. “That’s no excuse.” she said, walking over and using one hand to steady him. “An all powerful wizard like you should be more than capable of making some kind of spell to help them keep track of time.”

Endrance shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, I'm sorry about that. It always seem to be a low priority compared to everything else that I've been doing.”

“Well I am not going to be explaining why we are over an hour and a half late for dinner.” Bridget huffed, helping walk the mage out of the cave and back into the hot spring area. “Because Joven’s mother was making some kind of bird and she's going to get mad that we let it get cold.”

The mage let out a sigh. With a simple thought and a twist of his wrist, Endrance grabbed Bridget around the waist as he cast a spell, transporting them instantly down the mountain to Joven’s ancestral home. Bridget in a sudden sharp breath as the scenery instantly changed, and the air warmed up significantly as they found themselves standing in front of the main door to the structure that was the Rothel family home. The building was not very large, but included a training yard in the back and a fully stocked forge. Joven’s mother spent her twilight years in the peaceful hobby of forging weapons, though she only sold what she needed to in order to afford more materials to work with.

“I’m sorry.” Endrance apologized, the sarcastic grin on his face was evident in his voice. “What were you saying about dinner getting cold?”

The Draugnoa put a hand on her gut. “Gods damn it, that always throws my stomach for a loop!” Bridget complained, disengaging from Endrance’s grip. “Thanks though, it saved us a long walk."

Endrance smiled despite his partner’s grimace. He knew full well that she had adjusted to him teleporting them around by now, but she needed to put on a show or she wouldn't feel right about relying on magic to get things done, though the crystal’s interference might have lent some real weight to her complaint. The fact that she thanked him was proof that she had come a long way. Endrance wondered how well she could read now.

“Well, if this whole being-a-wizard thing falls through, I am glad to see that I can start a new life in the transportation business.” Endrance joked, knocking on the door. It didn’t take very long before the sound of footsteps approached from the other side.

Joven pulled open the door. Endrance blinked up at him.

“Uhm… Joven?” Endrance asked. “You… have a black eye.”

Joven looked over to Endrance with a blank expression, the light from the central hall revealing a faint bruise around his right eye. “Huh?” he asked, distracted.

Endrance pointed to his own eye. “Your mother?” he asked, stepping in and closing the door after Bridget. Joven nodded.

“Yep.” the big man muttered.

Endrance sighed. “All that power and you’re still getting wiped across the floor by her.”

Joven gave a slight shake of his head and suppressed a chuckle. “Nah, it’s not like that.” he said quietly, gesturing to the other end of the home’s main room. The hearth was a large black stone arrangement that was reinforced with black iron banding, built into the dividing wall so that both the main room and the kitchen could access it from either side. Through the flames Endrance could see pairs of feet walking back and forth and the faint sounds of people talking.

“My brother fought her before… when we found out he had gone berserk.” Joven said softly, gesturing to Bridget to go join the others in the kitchen. “He hit her… hard. I couldn’t, well, fight back at my full strength now.”

Anyone could see the pained look on his friend’s face. Talen was a sore spot for him, and even after their earlier discussion Joven still had some baggage over the issue. The fact that he had to hide that from his mother would hurt.

“I guess you feel cheated, huh?” Endrance asked. “You wanted to be able to win a fight with your own power.”

Joven shrugged. “This is my own power.” Joven said, walking to the kitchen. “Let’s… not talk about this until we’re on our way.”

Endrance nodded, joining the group in the kitchen. He had only been in the house of the sons of Rothel once during his first year in Balator. The kitchen was a broad one, with sunken stone floors overlaid with hand-carved polished wood worn smooth by generations of foot traffic. Tanya, Bridget, Selene, and Leona were sitting around a table in the center. Leona looked a bit grayer and more weary than last time he’d seen her, but as all barbarians Endrance knew, still possessed great vitality and muscle mass.

Looking up, Leona stood up from her spot around the table and grinned.

“Endrance!” She exclaimed, coming over to look him up and down. “You look great!”

Endrance hesitated, thinking his appearance over. He was battered, battle scarred, and missing an eye. At least he had grown a few inches taller and his body had filled out a bit more than his scrawny younger self had been. Well, it was their culture.

“It’s the eye, isn’t it?” Endrance asked, trying to hide a smile. Leona nodded, beaming.

“Makes you look like someone who’s actually fought some battles.” the matronly barbarian replied. “Though, you still don’t have much muscle.”

The mage shook his head. “Been trying, you know. I just don’t have the body for it.” he replied, making a fist and sighing.

Leona tutted, prodding him in the chest. “Nonsense.” she said. “If I’m going to do what Joven was asking me to do, then you’re going to have some time to get in some more exercise.”

Endrance blinked, confused. “Exercise? I usually get my workouts fighting for my life.”

The elder nodded sagely, moving back to the kitchen table. “And that’s a good way to keep fit, but if you want to get stronger, that’s not going to be enough. Here, we saved you some dinner.”

Leona set a platter on the table that was piled high with meats and root vegetables. “This will be a good start.” she advised. Endrance noticed Selene failing to hide a snicker with her hand as she whispered to Bridget.

“That’s… a lot of meat.” Endrance admitted.

“You’ve had more.” Selene piped in, grinning. “Like that time right after you beat Kalenden.”

“I nearly died then!” Endrance protested.

The group of barbarians exchanged a look. Endrance felt an ominous chill down his spine as he remembered Leona’s reputation.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Leona replied at last. “You’ll feel like that in no time. Joven?”

The big man pushed a seat up to the table. “You eat.” he said. “We’ll get to work grinding up the crystal. Then in the morning you’ll help Leona figure out the mix that you need for your armor, then you get to strength training.” Joven started to turn away but reversed the motion, turning back to the mage and jabbing him in the chest. “No magic.” he grumbled.

The mage held up his hands defensively. “Hey, I don’t use magic for everything—" he started to protest, but was cut off by Bridget.

“You just made me cut a rock out of a mountain because you couldn’t touch it with your spells.” she griped.

“You use magic to keep yourself warm here instead of just getting used to it.” Tanya added. She turned to Selene. “Does he even dress himself normally?” she asked the Draugnoa closest to the mage.

Selene grinned, her eyes shining with mischief. “Well yes, but there’s this other thing he does that I know is magical.” she admits.

Endrance groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right. Right. You got me. I’ll… refrain from using magic to make the exercise easier.”

“Good. Now eat. We have a busy day tomorrow.” Leona declared, heading to her bedroom. When the door to the room shut, Endrance had already started cutting into the first piece of meat. Joven collected Bridget and the glowing chunk of Crystalphage and went out back. Selene gave Tanya a pat on the shoulder and Endrance a kiss on the cheek before sauntering to their bedroom.

“Good night...” Selene called back to him before closing the door.

Tanya stayed at the table while Endrance ate. She only watched him while he ate. The sound of a hammer striking crystal echoed in from outside. Endrance tried at first to just focus on his food, but soon he found himself staring back at Tanya as he chewed. He swallowed, but hesitated to take another bite.

“What?” he asked. Tanya shrugged in reply.

The archer made a face that Endrance at first thought was boredom. “I didn’t really have much to do, right now.” she said. “But I can at least make sure you eat your food.”

The mage scowled down at his plate. “What, did I turn into a child when I wasn’t looking?” he shot back, jabbing a fork into the next piece of meat. “And why can’t I get any vegetables?”

“Joven’s kids had eaten them all.” Tanya replied. “Gwen insisted they get plenty. Tried to make Giselle eat them but she refused to take orders from anyone other than you.”

“Are they in bed already?” Endrance asked, trying to work steadily through the mountain put before him.

Tanya nodded. “Giselle’s probably already moved to your bed when we weren’t looking. And yeah, I’m pretty sure Joven’s been avoiding talking to his woman. They fought when we first got here earlier.”

From outside, the sound of hammer striking rock continued. The mage sighed. The admittedly fuzzy wolf-girl just wanted to be close to him and it wouldn’t do any harm, though Selene would object. “Well, he did fake his death, even if he wasn’t aware of it.” Endrance reasoned, keeping the subject focused on Joven. “I’d think that she’d give him some slack, considering everything that happened.”

The Draugnoa shook her head. “Not likely. She’s not exactly mad at him.”

Endrance finished another bite before realization dawned. “Me?” he exclaimed, a mouth full of food. “Why?”

“Think about it.” Tanya said, sighing. “We showed up, told her husband was dead, even mourned him with her. Then we suddenly come back and now he’s not dead, but then we tell her he’s gotta go off on a quest that’s almost guaranteed to kill him for sure, and even if he does come back he has to go again to finish his duty to the person who saved his life.”

Morosely, Endrance nodded. “Ah.” he muttered. “Well, this is all my fault. if I hadn’t been so hurried…”

Tanya shook her head, slapping him on the shoulder. “Shut it.” she scolded as the mage rubbed the sting away. “Your… recklessness is something we barbarians understand. It makes you... likable.” she expressed with a smile. “Besides, after spending years of our lives in the elven lands I could tell you were eager to get out of there and take us home.”

“Likable?” Endrance asked. “And here I thought the only thing everyone here cared about is strength.”

The barbarian woman leaned back in her chair, her arm muscles rippling in the firelight as she flexed demonstrably. “Well, that’s some of it. Certainly the only thing for muscle-brains like Bridget, but you know, like other peoples, we all have our tastes.”

“Muscle-brains?” Endrance replied, a smile widening on his face. “That’s apt.”

“Yeah.” Tanya scratched her side idly as she talked. “Speaking of, she’s still waiting for you to pick her up and body slam her onto the b—"

A loud boom interrupted Tanya’s salacious gossip and sent several cups tumbling from their shelves on the wall. Endrance ducked instinctively, his wards snapping into place in an instant. Tanya was on her feet, but otherwise seemed nonplussed.

“Endraaaance!” a voice cried from outside. “The snow is on fire! How is the snow on fire?”

The mage looked over at Tanya and shrugged. “I think I’ll go take care of that.”

The archer nodded as he was speaking. “Yeah.” she added. “Good idea.”

Endrance walked out of the kitchen, but came back a second later and stabbed his fork into the biggest piece of meat on his plate. “Excuse me.” he muttered, leaving the room a second time with a hunk of food in hand.

The lone Draugnoa watched him go and shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. He’d grown much since she first met him. He was still dense about some things, but he was slowly getting better. And he’d physically grown. Having gained several inches in height and a like amount of muscle. If he kept to Joven’s exercises, he might barely make for a passing barbarian. His spellscribing used to look like tattoos, but she’d noticed that the black lines had fallen out almost everywhere, instead looking like some kind of ritual scarification. That… was a very barbarian thing to do, and he had no idea how much more attractive it made him.

Leona padded into the room with nothing but a fur-lined blanket wrapped around her. Looking over the mess caused by the shockwave, she frowned.

“What in the hells was that boy doing?” she growled. “Where did he go, food’s not done!”

Tanya simply sighed. “He’s out back, setting snow on fire.” she stated blandly, bending down and picking up a tin cup from the floor.

“Set what on what now?” Leona replied.

Chapter Fifteen

Endrance had managed to sleep fairly well, especially since he always had enjoyed the cold night air up in Balator. While his body was asleep, his mind was deep within his library. He had promised not to use magic to cheat during his exercises, but he had not promised not to use magic in other ways. While his body rested, he started going over everything he knew about his own body and how it grew, healed, and got stronger. He figured he could work on improving his magic as well as his body, but wanted to figure out the physical growth before he went back to work on his nexus meridians.

His initial education was fairly thorough, but it was surprisingly the memories he had from the number of mages whose imprints he had absorbed that helped him most. Some of them, like Kaelob and Valeria, had experience with body-changing magic. The Atastos mages he had acquired years before, however, had the best understanding of the body that he could have hoped for. Part of it was lost due to their undead nature, but he still had quite a lot of information about different creature’s biologies and could extrapolate for human bodies as well.

Now the problem he had that came up no matter how he tried to approach it was that he wasn’t fully human; he was half-Mercanian. Worse yet, his memories about cross breeds told him that any species that can mingle with another species won’t ever do it consistently. Some traits can be relied upon, such as the case of species that present as always having fur, but others are so random it might as well be the flip of a coin whether he had inherited his father’s or his mother’s traits.

This thought led to Endrance accidentally opening Valeria’s memory of how he was conceived, which caused him to slam it shut again in a burst of confusion and disgust. It was enough of a mental disruption that he woke himself up, went out into the back yard in just his underclothes, dunked his head in a barrel of nearly frozen water, and screamed while still submerged. Enough had played through his mind that he had graphic visual understanding of parts of both his parents that he had hoped he would never have to think of, much less have eidetically committed to memory.

Withdrawing his head from the freezing cold water, he gasped for air and tried to shake his hair out.

“You’re doing it wrong.” A little voice called from behind him. Endrance snapped his vision to look and saw that his sudden departure from the bed had awoken Giselle. The young lady was in woolen bed clothes, though she danced back and forth over the chilly stone floor on two bare paws. Endrance blinked at her for a second, the chill starting to creep further down his back.

Noting his confusion, she mimicked shaking herself dry, a very lupine action. “You start at your waist.” she instructed. “Then you roll it up your spine.”

The mage stared at her for a few seconds, and she was starting to wonder if he understood her before he managed to roughly imitate the motion, flinging his long strands of hair back and forth. He ended up with his head wrapped in wet hair.

“Okay, so it doesn’t work for you. Sorry.” Giselle admitted. “I can find a towel?”

Endrance held out a hand, stopping her. “I got this.” he muttered, wiping his left hand through his hair and using the element-manipulating spellscribing to squeeze the water out of his hair. It was still damp, but it was reasonably dry and untangled.

“You okay?” Giselle asked.

The traumatized mage nodded. “I guess.” he answered, still trying to suppress the memory.

“Nightmare?” she asked, her nose quivering as she approached him. He nodded, reaching out and patting her on the head. “Yeah.” he replied.

Giselle hugged him. “Okay. I get that sometimes too.” she said. “It’s okay.”

Smiling, he let her lead him back to their room. Soon they were warmly ensconced in their room, she snuggled up to him, her head tucked into his armpit. Giselle’s fuzzy warmth, familiar scent and closeness had a soporific effect and he was able to go back to sleep. He was able to block the disturbing memory from welling to the surface at the slightest provocation. This time, he focused on formulating a new spell he wanted to test in the morning.

After that, he went into his trance state and began working again on refining his internal meridian structure. He was so intently focused on it he didn’t notice Giselle getting out of bed and leaving in the dawn light; he had been abandoned for the prospects of delicious cooked bacon and ham.

When he awoke again, he had made significant progress refining his nexus meridians. Each one was harder than the last to fully develop, since they used the prior meridian like a foundation for the next. He had gone back and worked on his first and second nexus points multiple times during the night. It occurred to him that the nexus meridians seemed familiar, until he realized that they were very similar to the bowls of the capital of Balator.

There was a difference in the number of ‘nexus’ points, but the structure was the same. The first nexus meridian could hold the most power, compared to the other six, but overall there wasn’t that much difference from the second one. The amount they stored was dependent on his physical ability and health, so he had just another reason to do this exercise Leona had set out for him.

When he rose that morning he started by casting the first of his spells. While it was extremely dangerous for a human mage, the spell was hardly anything more than a rote exercise that pulled power from his aura into his body, cycled it through his meridians, and flushed it back out again. Much like breathing, just on a magic level.

As far as normal wizards were concerned, this was both trivial and dangerous to do. Trivial in that it required practically no training to be able to pull off or did anything beneficial for them, and dangerous because the constant flow of power through their unprepared meridians for more than a few seconds was basically suicide. They’d burn out in moments, or the spell would run out of control and end up killing them.

For Endrance, it was different. His Mercanian heritage meant that he was able to handle power flowing through his flesh, and the constant respiration of power would help him draw on it much faster than before. In theory, at least.

Endrance stretched while he got used to the feeling of power respiration, and noticed that it caused a faint pulse of light visible through the grooves carved in his skin. The surface meridians were not getting enough power to activate any of his spells, but they could be noticed in the dark. His nexus meridians were internal, deep within his body and wouldn’t give off any light even if they were full. He noted idly that the whole night’s sleep had not allowed his body to fill even one of the nexus meridians he had refined during the night. Perhaps he could go back to the heart of the mountain and drain it a little before he left.

Dressing and leaving the room, Endrance found another plate of food set on the kitchen table waiting for him. Next to it was a stack of folded cloth. Sitting down, he took a bite of food and chewed it while he investigated the cloth. It was some form of loose-fitting pants and a sleeveless shirt, both dyed a garish yellow color. They were also sized for him, or close enough.

Looking around the mage didn’t see anyone about, so he stripped in the kitchen and changed as he ate. They didn’t provide him with footwear, so he suspected that his soft-soled shoes would be fine.

“Those scars cover your whole body, huh?” A voice asked, causing Endrance to pivot on one foot to face the speaker, the other foot halfway into his shoe. Leona leaned against the doorway leading towards the back, wearing simple pants, shirt, boots, and a leather apron and gloves. Her hair had been done in a thick, tight braid and then curled into a bun on the back of her head to keep it out of the way.

The mage nodded, finishing donning his footwear and standing up straight. “Yeah. They trace my meridians… the veins of magic that flow through my body.” he explain. “You remember when they were just tattoos, right?”

Leona nodded. “Looks like those were just a template.” she observed. “Before you etched the lines into your body permanently. Kinda like how I put a template on a blade before I etch it.”

The mage considered. “Yeah. Actually… that’s really astute. I couldn’t think of a better way to put it.” he admitted, scratching his head. “I still don’t know how you and Joven do that.”

Leona shrugged. “Family gift.” she explained. She pushed off the wall and started down the hallway. “Now let’s get going. I’ve got the forge heated up, the crystal is ground, and you have a long regimen ahead of yourself.”

Sighing, Endrance followed her into the backyard. A good quarter of the large compound’s yard was taken up by Leona’s forge and metalworking tools, but the other three-quarters was dusky stone brick floors packed with dirt in the seams. The walls around the backyard were twelve feet tall, and bore signs of having been expanded upon at some point in the past, as the cut of the stone for the top few feet had been rougher and less precise than the lower parts.

Sunlight poured into the yard, and Endrance saw Selene, Tanya, Giselle, and Bridget standing in the light waiting for him. Joven stood over by the forge, leaning on the arm of the bellows and looking bored. The three women wore similar yellow outfits to the one Endrance wore, but they definitely filled them out better, like they had actually been made for people of their stature and not his scrawny body. Giselle, in contrast, wore a baggy child’s shirt, belt, and pants. The young wolf had her eyes closed, and Endrance couldn’t help but smile internally when he felt the tiniest of stirrings in the air around her as she practiced her lessons.

“I thought I was supposed to be doing the exercise.” Endrance protested, walking into the courtyard. Bridget scoffed. “You think you’re going to do this alone?” she asked. “Like it or not, we’re your Draugnoa, and your wives. What you go through, we do too.” her cheeks reddened slightly when she said wives.

Giselle opened her eyes. “Leona said I had to do it too.” the wolf added, shrugging. She didn’t seem at all concerned about the work, though. Joven had been training her personally.

“Though we’re probably not going to have as much trouble as you.” Selene teased. Tanya nodded in agreement.

“Bridget has to do it with one arm tied behind her back.” Tanya added. “So it’s fair. If you can’t use magic, she can’t use a magic arm.”

Bridget laughed loudly. “As if that’s gonna hold me back.” she boasted. “I’m still going to leave you all in the dust!”

Endrance couldn’t help but laugh. It was good to see their spirits were high. Leona came back into the yard carrying several solid metal disks. She dropped them on the stone, causing a loud clamor of noise.

“All right listen up!” Leona shouted. “Once Endrance is done instructing me on how to forge this thing he wants, he’s going to join you in exercising. Since you’re all actually in shape I’ll let you get started now to warm up. I’m going to be working right over there, so if I hear any of you slacking, I’ll know about it. Got me?”

Endrance stared at the piles of metal disks and glanced at the Draugnoa. They all nodded, though Selene snuck him a wink.

“Yes, ma’am.” Selene sighed.

“Good! Now, get started.” Leona commanded. “We’ve got work to do.”

The formula he instructed Leona on was actually not that difficult; it was an alloy created by his mother centuries ago when she was trying to recreate the bracers he usually wore. They still reminded him of his capture and imprisonment, but they were comfortable and contained Crystalphage that could store extra power for him. Unfortunately at the stage he was at now, the amount they held wasn’t even a large fraction of the amount his aura could contain on its own. Even worse, the other function the bracers had was now useless. Originally they were to act as a trainer for his Mercanian blood, helping him channel the power released by those who died around him and funnel them into his mind and aura. Now, he didn’t need them anymore.

Crystalphage was available in enormous quantities in Balator, both because the heart of the mountain seemed to be composed of it, and because the native Balatorans did nothing with the crystal due to their superstitions. They simply avoided mining it wherever it had been encountered. Endrance could try replacing the crystals in his bracers with a newer, purer crystal with more precisely cut facets. The thought had some familiar appeal to him, but the Crystalphage in his bracers were almost perfect as they were and could not be improved on much. The amount of power gained would be almost negligible.

Mostly, he had kept the bracers for nostalgia, and how he had grown comfortable wearing them. Recently, though, the bracers didn’t quite fit right; they felt a little too snug and short for his forearms. He seemed to still have some growing, even in his twenties. It made some sense; he had no idea what the growth rate of Mercanians were and practicing magic tended to stretch out the natural life cycle, so he could still have a ways to go.

Even if he hadn’t been growing taller and by consequence, longer-armed, finally putting the bracers away would be good for him. Almost like a graduation for him as a mage, as he was no longer dependent on his apprentice tools anymore. The new creation would be his proof of mastery on top of solving his current problem and improving his durability. This material his mother had discovered would do nicely.

This material had been created at first by accident, and then Valeria had repeated the process a couple of times to confirm its properties. It was almost perfectly the opposite of what she wanted the bracers material to do, so she had discarded the formula. It had remained in her memory, however, so it was able to be copied in the library of his mind. Endrance had taken some of her later studies into black iron and applied it to what she had discovered and believed it would be a straight improvement of the original discovery.

Leona melted down two parts silver, one part copper, and two parts a mixture of ground Crystalphage and black iron sand. He used his magic to reinforce and stabilize the crucible while Leona and Joven did the physical work lifting, adding the bits of metal, and keeping the crucible evenly heated. While the silver and copper would melt at temperatures that Leona’s crucible could handle, the alloying process required heats beyond even her equipment. Endrance filtered into the mix small quantities of other minerals, but their quantity was minute compared to the main materials they needed. As an afterthought, Endrance offered Leona the blacksmithing hammer he had used to make his eyepatch. It wouldn’t help until the forging process, but he was certain it would be really useful then.

Once they had the process down and Endrance was certain that the crucible could hold up to the smelting, he let them get to work, which meant he had to start exercising. Catching up to the Draugnoa was impossible, but they were able to get him started on the first exercises. Lifting metal disks in specific ways was rote, but it was an interesting method and physically tiring. Endrance noted that these metal disks were precisely shaped to weigh certain amounts, and etched into the faces of the metal were pictograms explaining what exercises that could be done with them. Giselle had to wrap her hands after she slipped and tossed a disk over her head several times in a row. Once they were worn down from lifting weights in almost a dozen different ways they went running around the yard in circuits. One hundred laps later, they had a short break.

The mage would have been worn into a sweating puddle with noodles for arms halfway through the weight-lifting portion if he hadn’t been prepared. He had been told not to use magic to make the exercise easier, no one told him not to use magic to help him recover faster.

The spell that circulated power through his body had one extra effect that only worked on people with Mercanian blood in their veins; Mercanians could consume magical power to heal their wounds and restore their vigor. They were beings that relied upon magical power instead of life energy to exist. They could increase the rate that wounds healed by pouring more power into the wounded area. Endrance had discovered this earlier, and after multiple injuries he concluded that while it would heal him extremely quickly, it did leave scarring similar to natural healing. If it mimicked a natural process then he should be able to use it to build muscle faster, and not just invalidate his attempts to get stronger by resetting his body to the state it was before the exercise.

Leona had started hammering something during their run, so Endrance assumed things were going well. He didn’t know anything about forging armor, so he was going to have to trust Leona to handle the rest of it. Forging his eyepatch was difficult enough as it was, he shouldn’t take everything on himself if there was someone more suited to doing the job available.

Bridget tossed a wooden sword down at his feet as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Come on.” she exclaimed, hefting a similarly shaped wooden weapon in her human arm. “No more time for napping. Remember, no magic.”

Even with the respiration of power helping him recover faster, he was still pushing his body harder than he had ever done before. Groaning, he stooped and picked up the sword. The wooden grain felt strangely rough in his sweaty hands as he raised it into a guard position, which was when he noticed that it wasn’t just Bridget facing him. Selene and Tanya both stood at either side of her, wooden weapons held at ready. Thankfully, Giselle sat off to the side, still panting and gulping down water.

“Uhh…” Endrance acknowledged, taking a deep breath. “So—"

“Get him!” Bridget shouted, causing the three Draugnoa to leap into action. Endrance understandably yelped and backpedaled, swinging his weapon to try to deflect Bridget’s swing. He was rewarded with Selene’s weapon knocking his sword out of hand and Tanya jabbing him in the gut with hers before Bridget’s sword rapped him on the head painfully. Endrance threw his arms up around his head defensively.

The trio continued their assault, blows landing on his sides, legs, and his arms. For some reason Leona and Joven ignored this beating and didn’t interfere. Endrance tried to retreat, but could find no angle to get away from them. They weren’t hitting him with their full strength or he’d be on the floor bleeding, but they were hitting him hard enough it was going to leave bruises.

“Hey—" he tried to exclaim, but then Selene’s weapon somehow managed to swat him on the rear, sending him stumbling forward into Bridget. The Draugnoa mercifully caught him, her wooden arm still behind her back. The bludgeoning assault stopped, though the sound of Giselle laughing at him rang through the air.

“Yep.” Bridget said, a smile on her face. “He wasn’t using magic.”

“Damn.” Tanya muttered. “I did not think he could run a hundred laps on his first try.”

Selene helped stand Endrance up, managing to rub the area she had swatted before without others noticing. “Oh give him some credit. None of his marks lit up during the fight.”

“What fight!” Endrance shouted. “That was a beating!”

Tanya leaned over to Bridget. “Oh, I think he’s mad.” she whispered loudly. Bridget nodded.

“Damn right I’m mad!” Endrance shouted. “Why the hells did you think that was necessary?”

Selene frowned at him. “Endrance,” she started. “You are one of the most capable people I know, but you get in over your head.”

“All the damn time!” Bridget added. “Let us do our jobs.”

“I mean, it says a lot that you trusted us enough to not use your magic even when we were ganging up on you.” Tanya added.

Selene rubbed Endrance’s shoulder as she spoke. “You do try to do everything yourself because you know you’re clever. It’s frustrating… We’re supposed to take some of your burdens.”

Endrance nodded. “Okay. Okay.” he acknowledged. “So this was you giving me a hard lesson? Everything hurts.”

“Pretty much.” Bridget responded sweetly, picking up Endrance’s sword and handing it back to him. “Now we’re actually going to spar with you one at a time.”

“Until you can’t move anymore.” Selene piped in, smiling.

Endrance’s eyes widened. “Well, what happens after that?” he asked.

With a grin and a jerk of her thumb towards Selene, Tanya replied. “She gets you until tomorrow.”

“I’ll admit I have been waiting for this.” the curvy Draugnoa stated. “I’ve been wanting you at my mercy for a long time.”

Endrance gulped. “I… don’t like—"

“Get him!” Giselle shouted, the grinning wolf-girl surprising Endrance. Tanya raised her sword and swung at the mage.

The wolf watched her master get the daylights beaten out of him with obvious amusement. She was eventually joined by Joven and Gwen. She noted that Joven smiled when Endrance started doing things right, but his wife grinned with sadistic glee every time the mage took a hit. Of the women in Joven’s household, Giselle thought that perhaps Gwen was the scariest.

Chapter Sixteen

Leona worked diligently, managing to get work done in days that would have taken another craftsman weeks. During this time Endrance trained physically and mentally. The next day after his first session of exercise he woke up with his body screaming at him. The pain and soreness was supposed to be normal but considering how little he actually exercised in the recent years and his inactivity while trapped in the Bastille, he would have done serious harm to his body if it weren't for his rapid healing. Selene’s ‘tender ministrations’ didn’t help his health or energy at all either. He increased his ‘respiration’ spell this day and tried to stall for as much time as possible during breakfast in order to give himself more time to heal. Unfortunately for him it seems that his companions had caught on to how quickly he was recovering. So they had set up even more exercise for him to do.

Now Joven supervised his training, leaving the other three to aid Leona in her task. This was unfortunate for Endrance as Joven was one of the few people who knew his physical abilities the best and was more than capable of working him to the point of exhaustion. Exercise regimens that were supposed to be done in a scale of weeks Joven had compressed down to days. A day of rest became fifteen minutes. The barbarian was there every step of the way, demonstrating the next set of exercises and motions he was to repeat. Multiple times during that second day he looked over to Giselle’s training and wished he could go at her snail’s pace.

“You should be glad!” Joven boasted as Endrance lay on his back panting, his clothes soaked through with sweat despite the obvious chill of the mountain and high atmosphere. “Anyone else on this mountain would kill to get your ability to recuperate!”

“Some have!” Bridget shouted from the forge where she cranked the bellows. She rubbed at where her wooden arm met her flesh unconsciously as she turned back to her work.

Endrance remembered Kalenden’s abnormal strength. Still catching his breath, he gestured at Joven. “You know, I said I wouldn't use magic to make this easier.” he reiterated.

Joven grinned. “But you're using it to recover, right?”

Endrance hesitated, he should have expected his close friends to know. His neck sagged against the stones. “Yeah…” the mage sighed, “I shouldn't cheat, but—"

“Cheat?” The big man exclaimed, plucking the mage up and plunking him onto his feet. “Using magic to lift weights easier or run farther is cheating. Do you have any idea how much faster you can improve this way?”

Endrance shook his head. “I don't know a lot about building muscle.”

Joven jabbed him on the chest. “It takes time to get strong safely. A long time. You work yourself until you are weak. Then when you recover your strength, you’re just a little bit stronger. You mend in a minute what most men need more than a day to do. The workout I've been putting you through is insane, even impossible for anyone to keep up with. Each time I wear you down, you’re coming back just a little bit stronger, but you’re able to do it at speeds that make me jealous.”

Endrance shook his head. “But… you’re doing it.” he protested.

The barbarian scoffed. “Now I know you’re worn out.” he said, stooping down to help Endrance stand. This time, instead of just picking him up and setting him down, he offered a hand to him. When Endrance took his hand, his palm went abuzz with the tingle of magic. Joven was tapping into his berserker state, if only a little bit.

“Oh.” Endrance muttered, straightening his legs as he realized what that meant.

“Let’s continue.” Joven cut into any further reply. “If you can talk, you can train.”

The big man gestured to a table against the side of the house. “Go, put those on.” he prodded.

The mage achingly walked over to the table. Laid across it was a suit of armor made of heavy chain links reinforced with solid metal bands. It was crude, made entirely of black iron, and definitely not suitable for combat. The boots had unnecessary black iron plates on them, and the gloves were heavy mitts with similar plates across the backs of the hands and fingers.

“Put it on.” Joven directed. “You’re going to need training moving around in heavy armor, if you’re going to wear what Leona’s got in mind for you. I don’t know how much lighter your magic metal’s going to be, but you’re going to need to know how to move while encumbered.”

Endrance gulped, his tired body already straining to just lift the suit. “All… right…” he muttered, hefting it.

Tanya approached, helping him don the armor, a process that took several minutes to get him strapped in. During that time, he focused his mind as much as he could to the effort of recovering. He could have tried to take over the process of dressing and armoring himself, but it was something that he had no real life experience in. He had the memories of Kalenden’s life, and that included quite a lot of armor, but Kalenden’s body type was different from his. Overall, he could remember the motions with his mind, but his body didn’t have any of those experiences ingrained in it.

Memories gained from absorbing the imprint of someone would help him bridge the gap, but Endrance had a harder time learning physically-oriented skills from them. So for now, he let Tanya lead him through strapping the heavy chain link armor on.

“There. That firm?” She asked him. Endrance gave her a smile and nodded. Turning to Joven, he struggled to shrug at the barbarian.

“What now?” he asked.

The barbarian grinned. “You wear it.”

“Oh.”

“All day.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it?”

Joven scratched the side of his nose. “Nope.” he replied. “Those exercises you were doing earlier? You get to do them again. You can take it off when you are done.”

Endrance stared at the big man, feeling the oppressive weight of the armor on his body. “Excuse me?” he asked.

“It’s going to take a couple of days to finish making the armor now that we have the right alloy recipe.” Joven stated. “We’ll do the work, and you get to try it on when we’re finished. Until then, you train.”

“What about fitting?” Endrance protested. “Don’t you need to make sure it fits me?”

“Hah!” Leona shouted from the forge. “Already got your dimensions!”

The mage’s face twisted up in confusion. “Wait…” he muttered. “Selene?”

From her position in the yard, Selene laughed “I was very forthcoming with your… dimensions.” she offered. “I made sure to take notes last night, since you’ve changed a lot while you were in the Bastille.”

Endrance visibly shuddered. “I don’t remember you doing that.” he replied.

The half-demoness grinned wickedly. “What, you don’t remember the ropes?” she asked coyly.

Shaking his head, he realized he was only walking into further trouble. “Fine.” he conceded. “I will train.”

The big man approached, checking Tanya’s work. “Did you pay attention to how she buckled it on?” he asked.

The mage looked up at Joven, his face still scowling. “No, not really.” he admitted.

Joven shook his head. “Well, you’ve got maybe two days to learn.” he instructed the mage. “After that, I don’t want to have to rescue you if you get caught in the toilet unable to take your pants down.“

Endrance nodded solemnly. “Got it.” he said, taking a steadying breath.

After a few plodding steps, Endrance started to get a feel for the bulk and distribution of weight that the armor placed upon his body. Without strengthening magic, the armor felt oppressive, even claustrophobia-inducing to him. If he hadn’t spent a year trapped in a literal glass bubble prison, he would be clawing at the equipment to try to get it off. Instead, he recognized that it was bad but not nearly as bad as he’d had before, and was able to start working through his anxiety.

The training did much to distract him, since now exercises he thought were merely taxing before were practically impossible now. The mitts made holding the metal plates difficult, since they could easily slip out of his grip, and dropping one on his head would be painful at best, dangerous at worst. In the end, despite Joven’s insistence that he do it faster, Endrance ended up doing everything at a slow and steady pace as he felt out his ability to work under the added weight.

An hour in, his muscles burning and sweat pooling under the armor, Endrance finally found the right mental state of being. He was able to devote a small portion of his mind to the training, as usual, but had reached a trance that left him for the most part, mentally free. It was then he had the clarity of mind to realize that he was performing the same style of exercise that he had watched the elves in Salthimere performing not too long ago, though his attempts were amateurish and downright terrible compared to them. He gave himself a little credit; they had been training for years or even decades to do so, while he was on his second day of ever doing real physical training.

Years ago, Joven had taught him how to fight with what he had in case he was in a physical confrontation. That meant using knives, which he had carried two of, and using his small body and greater speed. Now, Endrance was a little taller, a little broader in the shoulder, and had grown out of his androgynous youth into a more masculine adulthood. He could have continued training in the way he had been, but it was no longer either the most beneficial method or the only real option he had. He also had more experience under his belt, which meant he understood certain precepts of combat that were difficult to convey with lessons or book reading.

As his body obeyed Joven’s commands on automatic, his mind dove deep back into the information on improving his reserves of power he had cobbled together from Valeria and Kalenden’s research. Being able to observe the way exerting himself affected the flows of his meridians and deep meridians was surprisingly beneficial to him. Doing such actions caused the amount of life energy in his meridians to swell up, mixing with the magical power he had been respiring through his meridians. The eddies and flows of this power and life energy were fascinating, but it felt like there was more significance to it. A revelation seemed to be just out of reach as he struggled both physically and mentally to train.

“All right. That’s enough for today.” Joven called, snapping Endrance out of his trance. The mage immediately became aware just how much he hurt, as well as how soaked with sweat he was.

“You did good, though you were sluggish.” Joven reported. “But… you did start correcting your problems before I could tell you to fix them, so I guess you did all right.”

Endrance felt his whole body trembling. “Going slower through these takes more control and endurance, so I think this will work better for me since I recover faster and need to also train my mind.” he offered.

The big man nodded. “Sure. Still feels like you’re wasting some of the benefits you have, but I’d rather you build it right than rush into it and learn something stupid by accident.”

“Noted.” Endrance replied. “So can I take this off yet?”

Joven’s face split into his signature wide smile. “I don’t know, can you take it off?” he asked. Before Endrance could answer, he grabbed up a jug of water and walked away while taking a swig. Endrance looked pleadingly around the yard, to find that Giselle had gone inside long ago, and the three Draugnoa were in the kitchen cooking. Leona was hard at work at the forge, leaving only… Gwen.

The young woman chuckled at him as their eyes met, shaking her head. “You’re on your own.” she declared, all too amused at his misfortune. “You mages need to pay more attention, anyways.”

Endrance sank to the stone floor of the yard, sighing. “I guess I deserve this.” he muttered.

It took him time to get his hands out of the mitts and then figure out what to do next. He stumbled into the kitchen long enough to shovel food and water down his gullet, and then he fell into his bed and passed out into sleep before he could even set up his nightly meditation.

For the first time in years, Endrance purely slept without any kind of mental exploration, studies, or even dreams. His rest was blissfully unaware of anything that went on around him, a vulnerability that went completely unexploited that night.

When Endrance awoke, he realized two things. The first was that he was ravenously hungry again, and the second caused him to momentarily panic as he had left his respiration spell running the entire night without controlling it. He shot out of bed and groaned as the third revelation struck him: his entire body was sore in ways he had never thought possible.

Sliding to the cold stone floor, he first dismissed his respiration spell, letting the flow of power through his meridians finally cease. His aching body seemed to surge to the forefront of his mind as the pain increased without the beneficial effects of his altered healing.

A scratchy itch spread through his chest, and he stumbled to his feet and into the bathing room. Fortunately no one was in the large, family-sized bathing chamber to witness him fall to his knees and cough repeatedly. Spatters of blood flecked the stones between his hands. Blinking the blurriness away, he tried to make sense of what happened. Strangely, his blood looked to have a metallic yellow sheen to it, as if it had been mixed with powdered gold before he expelled it. Wiping the rest of his blood from his lips, he rolled onto his back and stared at the smear on his hand. It too was gold-tinged.

“Damn. I’m sparkling.” he muttered. “Sparkling is not good.”

Endrance took stock of his situation quickly, hoping that he hadn’t done too much damage. While he slept, his meridians had been perpetually cycling power out of his aura and into his body. They would pool in the nexus points in his meridians, but eventually the trickle of power was supposed to flow out. The problem was that no spell was 100% efficient, and in his sleep he could not regulate the speed of the flow.

His meridians were all intact, but as he slept he had ‘relaxed’ the normal mental control he had over where the power he respired went which meant that they flooded into his deep meridians, and through them, they spread through even the tiniest passageways in his body, suffusing it. While he was half-Mercanian and able to live with magical power in his body, they were not used to being so thoroughly infused with power and it felt like parts of him had broken down from the strain. It seemed like something else was contributing to it, but Endrance couldn’t figure out what it was.

The mage also realized that his aura was almost entirely empty. That was an altogether different kind of unpleasant sensation. Groaning, Endrance hauled himself back into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed.

His aura, which usually was the vessel he stored power in, had never filled up since he had been trapped in the Bastille. When he was an apprentice, his aura could contain about the same amount of magical power as about a hundred normal humans, and he could absorb enough power from the environment around him to go from empty to full in a few hours. While the amount he could store increased exponentially, there were limits to how much he could draw from the environment, which meant it would take him weeks to fully ‘recharge’ his aura.

Leaving his respiration spell active overnight without controls had caused him to gradually drain everything he had built up into his body. Much of it had simply been transferred to his recently refined nexus meridians, more had been lost due to the inefficient nature of his spell. The only… positive result of the night’s mistake was that his first nexus meridian was almost completely full.

A knock at the door prompted Endrance to flop over to where he could see the person approaching him. Joven opened the door, poked his head in, and took one look at Endrance before grimacing.

“I was afraid of that.” he said. “I pushed you too hard. Just rest, try to stretch, and we’ll try again after lunch.”

“Food.” Endrance managed to mutter, mustering all his strength and flopping his hand off the bed. “So hungry.”

Joven grinned. “I’ll have Giselle bring you something.” he said. “I hope you still heal fast because you look like someone dropped a boulder on you.”

After Joven left, Endrance tenderly touched his face. His eye socket was tender and bruised. Touching the skin around his Truesilver eyepatch, he felt the strangely ghostly touch of the necromantic flame in his left eye socket A second shock of alarm shot through him as he realized the source of his problem. The flame had swelled from a pinpoint of fire to almost entirely fill the inside of his eye.

He closed his good eye and focused, activating one of the spells worked into his eyepatch. A ring of magical script lit up as the magic in the patch activated. Inside his left eye, the spell siphoned every bit of power it could out of the necromantic flame. He grimaced as the eyepatch heated up from the effort. The fact that it had something to work upon was more than enough to cause him to break out into a cold sweat. The pain in his body lessened to some degree, and to his surprise his senses started to sharpen again. Within minutes of purging his eye, his body seemed ready to continue respiring power.

Gullin? Endrance mentally requested. The Fjallar had remained near the Shatter to assist Valzoa in his scouting. As a creature being simply projected there, Gullin could always be summoned again if something happened during his efforts.

Yes, Endrance? Gullin asked. You have not contacted me in some time.

How are things going over there? The mage pressed.

Gullin transmitted an emotion of frustration. It is not progressing swiftly, though we do believe we have found the route that Malchoir has taken through the Shatter’s storm. The familiar seemed somewhat pleased. I estimate it would have taken him three months to detect it on foot and alone, if he was being cautious about his safety.

Great. Endrance replied. We are making progress here. The armor should work to keep me safe from the chaos.

You better make more than just the armor. Gullin apprised. Your crew are elves, and I would not enjoy the journey either.

I have a plan.

Is it… a good plan this time?

Endrance sent a mental scowl at his familiar. Most of my plans are good plans. He snapped back.

Like the time you thought to chase after your master the moment he showed up, even though you had been told he had died by the Archmagus of your order? Gullin replied tersely. Because that worked out poorly for everyone involved.

Endrance mentally sighed. Okay, okay. Not all my plans are great. But this one will work. I promise.

All right… Gullin responded. Is there something bothering you?

Yeah. The mage replied. The eye that Valeria affected. It was absorbing power while I slept and had grown in strength.

Alarm shot down the familiar’s connection to him. Are you well? Why did you not lead with that alert? Gullin practically shouted at him. This could be a life-threatening emergence.

Relax, I took care of it. Endrance assured his companion. The eyepatch did its job, and it is back to normal. Whatever stands for normal for this thing, at least.

Endrance. I do not think that this is a good thing. You are lucky that whatever magic Valeria wove into it had not fully activated.

I know. I’m sorry for worrying you. Be safe… I have more training to do while Leona works on my armor. Endrance bid his friend farewell before letting their mental connection slide to the back of his mind. About the same time, the door opened and the delicious aroma of seared meats, bread, and cheeses assaulted his nose. Giselle pushed into the room carrying a platter of food in one hand and a tankard of water in the other.

“Joven said you needed something to eat while you rest.” The wolf said cheerfully. “I hope this is enough.”

Endrance eyed the food and shrugged. “It’s a start!” he said, reaching out and taking the platter and tankard out of her hands. He dug in immediately, while Giselle sat on the floor and watched him. He was starting to get the same kind of vibe he had two nights before when Tanya had been staring at him eating, and he started to wonder if he was performing a breach of etiquette.

“Is… something wrong?” he asked after washing his latest mouthful of food down with water. Giselle shook her head, shrugging.

“No. I was just thinking about how hard you work.” she said, reaching out and patting him on the knee. “You study magic and learn to fight and train your body and take care of the rest of us.”

Endrance met her eyes as she spoke. “That much, huh?” he started. “How do you know I’m studying magic?”

She gave a wolfish smile. “I can sense it.” she stated. “You’re doing some kind of spell ‘cause the magic in the air around you is slowly going away.”

Endrance tilted his head slightly. “You’re already able to tell that?” he exclaimed, dumbfounded. “That’s… something that takes humans years to figure out.”

Giselle shrugged. “Well, I’m obviously not a human, so there’s that.” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Endrance said, sighing. “I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was merely surprised how quickly you made progress!” he patted her on the head before picking up his utensils and resuming eating. “It was faster than when I started training.”

“How long did it take you?” Giselle asked, her ears perking up in curiosity.

Endrance shrugged. “About six months.” he said. “Kaelob always told me that was astoundingly fast. It is also the First Sigil of Mastery that mages earn in the Circle of Magi.”

“Oh?” the wolf asked, excited. “What’s that?”

“The Circle?”

“No! The sigil thingy.”

The mage chuckled. “The Sigils of Mastery were basically awards that were granted to a mage to indicate they have proven to have mastered certain principles of magic. The first sigil, which is called the Open Eye, is earned when you can prove to have honed your senses to detect or otherwise ‘feel’ the flow of power outside of your body. Usually the circle says the minimum range they accept is three yards, but the further the better.”

Endrance scrapped the last bit of food off his platter. “You need to have accomplished at least three Sigils of Mastery in order to graduate from being an apprentice.”

The wolf girl plucked the platter out of his hands and disappeared from the room for a minute before returning with a couple more slices of meat and a chunk of bread.

“What are the other two?” Giselle inquired, handing the platter over.

Endrance smiled at her. “The Hand sigil, and the Tongue.” he said before tearing into his second helping. After a few moments he continued. “The Tongue is earned when you can correctly pronounce at least three words of power perfectly, while the Hand is earned when you can manipulate power into a spell-form.”

“And you said a spell-form is what actually makes a spell, right?” Giselle replied. “This is really complicated.”

Endrance shrugged. “Feels so simple and obvious to me now, but I think I have even more experience than our current Archmagus does at present. Well, I have more memories of studying magic, at least.”

Giselle sat back on the floor, propping her canine chin up on one hand as she fumed. “This is hard.” she complained. “Why can’t I do magic the way the elves can?”

Endrance shrugged. “I don’t know if you can, but you’re welcome to surprise me. I can’t do magic the way they do, so I couldn’t be your teacher that way.”

“How do they do it differently?” Giselle asked.

The mage cleared his throat. “They are naturally born with talent for certain kinds of magic, and usually the most simple elemental forms. Fire, air, water, earth, light, dark. On top of that all of them are capable of doing life magic to some degree. And while I say talent I don’t mean talented like we may be. They… do magic intuitively.” Endrance shrugged. “They don’t have to memorize spell-forms and learn words of power. They just wish something to happen and then… it happens. Within reason, and usually only with the element they have an affinity for. No matter how hard they try, an elf with fire magic can never learn to cast a water-based spell.”

Giselle nodded. “So they can do magic easier than you, but you can learn to do every kind of magic?”

Endrance nodded back at her. “Yes. I suppose. That’s not to say that elves don’t practice their magic or work hard to use it better or more creatively. I suspect Valzoa uses his wind magic to lend speed to his sword arm, and he has some magic that lets him feel things around him not by where they are but by where the air around them is displaced by their presence.”

The young wolf stared at him blankly.

“Valzoa uses wind magic to find people who hide around him.” Endrance simplified.

“Oh. Right.” Giselle stammered, the fur on her neck and tail rising in embarrassment.

Endrance finished eating and flopped back on the bed, yawning. “I’m going to get some more sleep.” he let his adopted wolfish child know. “Wake me for lunch?”

“Okay!” Giselle replied, collecting the dishes and patting him on the hand before departing.

At the rate his body was adjusting, he would be ready for more of the same absurdly harsh training Joven had planned for him. He hoped that Leona could be done forging everything he needed soon. He didn’t want to waste any time since he was unsure how much they had left. He made sure to go into meditation this time, so he could at least monitor his healing rate and adjust it as needed.

Endrance? Gullin reached out to his mind.

Yeah?

I believe I have found something. Gullin stated, excitement evident in his mental voice. I think it is connected to Malchoir.

What is it? Endrance asked.

It is some kind of structure. Gullin replied quickly. It appears to be intact and to have survived the Shattering. There is a door to it, but it looks recently opened.

I think that deserves checking out once we’re done here. Don’t go in on your own; wait until we can go with you.

Understood.

Endrance turned his attention to his nexus meridians again and focused his mind. I hope to have some good results to show you when I get back.

I hope so too, Endrance.

Chapter Seventeen

It took Leona two more days to finish working the alloy into the equipment Endrance requested. During that time, Endrance spent most of it either training, sleeping, or eating. While he wasn’t entirely sure he had gotten much stronger, his companions told him that he was definitely doing better and while he had only been training a little while, he looked marginally more muscular as well. Selene insisted that the slow method of training had made his muscles look more defined, but she couldn’t say exactly how.

During his rests, he had managed to fully refine the first four of his nexus meridians, while the other three had been at least opened and partially refined. He had tried his best to fill them, but he was still only halfway through refining his fifth nexus by the time the armor was completed. It would be prudent for him to return to the heart of the mountain and try to draw more power off to at least refill his nexus meridians, aura, and the other miscellaneous items that stored power for him.

Leona was waiting for him when he awoke, the kitchen table cleared of any food or utensils. In their place was a sheet covering a large pile of shapes. As he approached he experienced an odd sensation as his senses picked up an unusual flow of power coming from under the cloth. The elder barbarian patted the largest lump under the cotton sheet.

“This stuff you invented is really nice.” she said approvingly. “It’s soft enough when heated that shaping it was a breeze, but it’s pretty solid now that it’s been tempered. I’m a little concerned about how durable it is when it takes a blow. It is alloyed with silver, after all.”

Endrance shook his head. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” he said. “It’s more to protect me from magic, anyways.”

Leona pursed her lips. “Well, it should do far more than that. I think.” she said, tugging the cloth off of the pile. Underneath Endrance could see an arrangement of shaped plates of a dark coppery-colored metal. The corners were slightly rounded, and tiny holes were punched into the metal near the corners.

“There you go. The full suit of armor...” Leona proclaimed, smiling down at her creation. “I don’t think the metal’s all that great at taking a hit, but it is pretty.”

The mage walked over to the table and examined the equipment. The metal was sorted in a number of slightly curved plates of metal with different shapes and sizes, each one a dark coppery color. To the side were matching slightly curved, ridged slopes that formed vambraces and greaves. Next to them was a pair of gauntlets that were some kind of leather riveted with broad studs across the tops of the fingers and almost delicately small plates of metal protecting the knuckles. The back of the hand and wrist were shielded by a single worked plate that was designed to sit flush against the vambraces of the armor when worn.

Endrance picked up one of the plates and turned it over in his hands. It felt heavier than it should be for its mass, causing the mage to frown as he thought about wearing the whole pile of plates. His contact with the metal caused a faint tingle across his fingertips as the metal interacted with his aura. As a result, a ripple of faint light spread across the sheet like a wave in a pond before it faded into its normal deep copper hue.

“So… is the armor finished then?” Endrance asked. “I mean, you’ve got to put the plates together, of course.”

Leona shrugged. “Still haven’t finished with your headgear. I sent Tanya out to get the materials we’re going to fix the plates on, but for the most part the metal bits are done.” she explained. “I made enough rivets. Maybe a little extra just in case.”

“And the other things I asked for?” Endrance asked. Leona nodded in confirmation.

“The weird bracelets?” Leona asked. She sat down at the table, pulling a roll of worn leather from her smithing apron. “Yeah, they’re cooling down now. Here.” she set the leather on the table and unrolled it. Inside was a set of sharp tools and picks. “Joven said that you’d probably need to etch the metal, and I don’t want you working on it after I set everything, so you need to do it now.”

The mage looked at the tools and climbed up onto the seat next to Leona. “He knows me so well.” he replied. “Okay, so I need you to tell me where each piece goes on the armor, so I can plan this out right.”

Endrance sat and watched as Leona patiently explained where each piece of metal was going to be riveted to the armor. By the time she was done, Endrance had a good picture in his head of where everything was going to lie.

“All right.” Leona said at the end of her explanation, holding up a randomly selected plate. “Where does this piece go?”

Endrance glanced at the plate and where she had taken it from. Without thinking he replied, “Fourth row, lower abdomen, left of center.”

Leona chuckled as she set the plate back down. “I’ll be damned. You do have a hell of a memory, you know that?” she exclaimed.

The mage tapped his temple, indicating his mind as he spoke. “One of the first things I ever learned were mnemonic devices.”

“What device?”

It was Endrance’s turn to chuckle. “A trick to remembering things quickly and correctly.” he explained. “I needed to, if I was going to pass my master’s training.”

Leona nodded. “Oh,” she blurted, changing the subject. “I need to get you some of my discards so you can practice etching the metal. You’re only going to get one shot at doing those right.”

She left, and Endrance stared at the metal as he pondered. Lost in thought, he didn’t hear Tanya return. She tried talking to him, but recognized he was lost in thought again and sighed, heading through to the back to talk to Leona.

“Hey.” a voice exclaimed at the same time a hand shook him, breaking him from his calculations. He looked up to see Joven was the one getting his attention. Tanya stood behind him, her arms crossed and her gaze pointedly fixated on a spot on the wall to her left. She appeared displeased but Endrance couldn’t tell if it was at him or something else.

“What is it?” Endrance asked.

Joven shrugged. “Tanya couldn’t find what she needed for your armor.” he explained plainly. “We need to look somewhere else, but she’s unhappy about it.”

Endrance spotted her glancing his way and then snapping her attention back to the wall. “What’s the problem?” he asked. Was she blushing?

The big man shrugged. “Since most of Balator’s off to war, they took all the good leathers and hides for their men on the field. There’s nothing available on the market, or at any other craftsmen’s shops.”

Endrance glanced at Tanya again before replying. “Okay… I wouldn’t be mad about that. We could improvise.”

Joven gestured towards Tanya without looking at her. “She has somewhere she could go that she knows would have it, but we would need you to take her there since it’s near the border.”

Endrance thought about it. “Crystal River Village?” he asked. “Isn’t that where her family–”

“Of hunters and tanners live.” Joven interrupted. “Yeah.”

Tanya huffed, causing Endrance to tilt his head and consider her. “That’s no bother, I can cover that distance with the power I have available. Why are you… why is there a problem?”

“I… lost the necklace you gave me.” Tanya blurted. “So they won’t talk to me anymore.”

He remembered how years ago, when he met her family, he had made a show of turning an amulet into an item that gave her folks a cultural ‘excuse’ to interact with her. Since she had undergone the rites and became one of his Draugnoa, she was for all intents and purposes dead to her people, a living ghost. Anyone was required to ignore her at all costs, even to the point of not attempting to stop them from wrongdoings. The trinket, a steel coin with two cuts forming an ‘x’ in it, was absolutely powerless, but it did provide cultural leverage.

“I understand.” Endrance assured Tanya. “Where did it happen? Do you remember?”

Tanya’s flush spread as she shook her head. “No. Sometime during our stay in the elf lands.” she replied. “I thought I had simply misplaced it among my things, but it’s… it’s gone.”

The mage hopped off of his stool, coming over to the woman and taking one of her hands. Her eyes were red, but Endrance didn’t find any tears. He gave her a reassuring smile. “You had a lot going on, you know.” he said, “Don’t worry. I am sure I could locate it with enough time and the right spells, but in the meantime are you okay with me making you a replacement?”

Endrance would ordinarily whip up a replacement of the item using his memories, but in the back of his head, he remembered how much trouble he had created for himself by just acting on a solution when it came to his Draugnoa’s feelings.

The Draugnoa looked him in the eyes, and shook her head. “No, I don’t want you to.” she murmured, her tone flat and lifeless.

Though puzzled, Endrance nodded. “Do you still want to go with me?” he asked.

She closed her eyes and nodded, giving him a weak smile. “Yes.” she said. “I have to.”

The mage looked over at Joven, who just shrugged.

“All right.” Endrance said, stretching. “I need a break anyways. Let’s get that done and over with.”

Tanya walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. Her grip was tight, but not painful. “Let’s go.” she said. Endrance had a suspicion that Tanya had wanted to acquire something particularly special for his armor, but the material wasn’t available here.

Endrance focused, drawing on his internal reservoirs of power as he wove the spell with words and gestures. Even as he cast the spell, his concern over Tanya’s mood kept nagging at him. He pushed it down for the moment, letting the task of spellcasting help smother the concern.

Chapter Eighteen

Crystal River Village wasn’t a terribly large community, but it was positioned at the edge of a large forest and along the banks of a river that ran through the region that flowed down from the nearby mountains. Fishing and hunting were their primary source of food and trade. However, since the barbarian way of ownership involved conquest, the village sported the defenses of a fortress. Eight foot tall walls of cobblestones surrounded the village proper.

When the tear opened up just outside the village, their watchman on their lookout tower was facing a different direction. By the time he turned to investigate the sound of the air tearing, Endrance and Tanya were already simply there. Endrance winced as the man on the village's lone watchtower startled and nearly fell out of the tower.

“Who is that?” He asked, moving over to the tower. The man shouted an alarm and scrambled down a ladder.

Tanya raised an eyebrow. “Worrick?” she realized. “He’s grown up.”

The mage nodded. “Been a few years since we were last here,'' he said. Around them, many villagers approached cautiously, the light of recognition dawning on several faces as they gathered. Remaining still, Endrance let them talk among themselves as he waited to see who was in charge.

A young woman, clad in bulky, incorrectly-sized armor and carrying a hefty but heavily worn axe stepped forth, her face determined. She looked familiar, but Endrance couldn’t place her in his memory of his last visit.

“You must be the old Spengur.” she demanded. “I remember when you came to see us years ago. You look… more respectable now.”

Endrance nodded, taking the statement as the compliment she intended it to be. “I am.” he admitted. “I believe I took the position back over although with Ironsoul no longer intact I might have acquired a more permanent position than I had intended.”

The woman took one of her hands off her axe long enough to pat her chest. “I’m Tara.” she said, her eyes flicking over to the Draugnoa for an instant before coming back to him. “I was the youngest sister of Tanya, the woman who gave her life for you.”

Endrance nodded, not trusting himself to answer properly. She was a little girl last time he had been here, and he was certain she had taken the news of the loss of her sister poorly. He never felt right about their tradition involving the Draugnoa, but he had no way of changing the tradition anytime soon. If it were a law, he could probably have it changed; he did help install the current high king of Balator, Thorald, after all. The problem lied with the hearts of the people, but he already had set things in motion to correct that.

“I see you come to our village with a familiar ghost in your wake.” Tara commented. “Do you have the amulet that allows us to speak with your authority?”

Endrance could feel Tanya’s body stiffen slightly at her sister’s cold query. “No.” he replied. “The amulet is gone for now. It was lost around the chaos of Ironsoul’s fall.”

The light in Tara’s eyes dimmed slightly, but she managed to keep a straight face. “Very well.” she said, her voice not betraying the slightest bit of disappointment. “You may need to speak to my father Teyrn about certain things, but I can help with most of them. What do you need?”

“Your sister spoke to me of a certain kind of leather, something special that your village was known for.”

Tara made a show of considering. “Something special?” she asked. “I’m not sure what she could have meant.”

A hand touched Endrance’s wrist, and he looked back at Tanya. She leaned close to him and softly said “You’re looking for an Elkbrinir hide.”

Endrance nodded. “I need leather from an Elkbrinir. Properly treated.”

The other villagers muttered amongst each other. Tara’s eyes narrowed. “That eldest elk is nearly impossible to hunt. The only one of our village who has ever brought us Elkbrinir was our sister Tanya, back when she was alive.”

“So are you saying you no longer have any?” Endrance asked.

The sibling frowned. “We still have some, it was a giant of a beast, but over the years we’ve cut away for those who wished to pay the asking price, and only have a small portion left.”

The once-Spengur nodded. Taking the time to find and hunt a new Elkbrinir would be taxing, not to mention it would take weeks to months to properly prepare the hide with care and attention to preserving its properties.

“Then I have two questions for you,” he asked. “How much do you have left, exactly… and what is your asking price?”

Tara’s frown increased as she realized that he was not dissuaded. “We have enough for ten pairs of boots, or one pair of boots with gloves and a long coat, or two large shields. The asking price you will need to talk to Teyrn about.”

Doing the calculations in his head, the mage figured he’d have enough leather to make the layer that his armor plates would be mounted on, but little else. He would likely have to find some inner layers that he could wear underneath. “Acceptable. Lead me to him. Please.”

Tara sighed. She turned and pushed past Worrick, heading to the longhouse that was laid out almost exactly as his old longhouse was up in the mountains. Taking the steps up to the doors, she shoved them open with more strength than Endrance suspected she needed. Inside, it was well lit and well insulated with many furs carefully placed across the floors and hung along the walls. A fire pit burned in the center of the house, where the heat could radiate across the ceiling space and into the other rooms.

“Father!” Tara shouted. “The Spengur has returned and he needs you!”

There was a clatter from another room, sounding like someone jumping up from a chair and dropping their tools. A few hurried footsteps and then one of the side doors burst open as Teyrn rushed into the room with great speed despite his bulk. Teyrn was a little less muscular and a little more portly than the last time they had met, giving the father a softer appearance, but it was obvious that he still had plenty of strength in him.

“Spengur!” he exclaimed, bowing his head. “I see you came again!” he looked at him and then Tanya and Tara. “Did you bring the amulet?” he asked. “It’s been so long.”

Endrance shook his head, already feeling guiltier than usual about the situation. He was finding this social taboo unbearable. “I was unable to bring it, I’m sorry.”

Teyrn’s expression turned from hopeful to remorse. “I… I see.” he said, glancing at his daughter several times as he talked. “What is it you need, Spengur?”

Frustrated with the sad faces of people he knew loved Tanya, Endrance turned to look out the doors leading into the longhouse. Several of the villagers stood outside, staring curiously. There was no way he could try to bypass this issue with so many witnesses. He glared at them, made a gesture with his hand and growled a word of power. A gust of icy wind slammed the doors closed.

“Gelare!” he shouted, slinging an old spell of his master and pointing at the doors. A thin blue ray of light shot from his fingertips and struck the center of the doors between the handles. Thick layers of ice started spreading from that point outwards, quickly coating the double doors and several feet of wall either side with a thick layer of solid ice. Outside, several voices cried out in terror.

Teyrn did the rational thing and cowered, throwing his hands up to shield his face, while his daughter Tara drew her axe and took a step towards him before Tanya quickly kicked the younger woman’s legs out from under her. She went down with a grunt, the axe falling out of her grip.

“Spengur! Spare her!” Teyrn exclaimed. “Take me instead!”

“Endrance what are you doing!?” Tanya shouted, having moved to protect him despite being conflicted by his actions.

“Both of you shut up!” Endrance shouted, feeling his frustration from years of dealing with this boil to a head. He quickly cast an additional spell, and as far as the people outside could tell, the longhouse fell completely, unearthly silent.

Inside, the room had taken a somewhat muffled sensation, where sounds that normally were heard in the background were muted, and deliberately created noises felt softer. A spoken voice felt like it was passing through a layer of cotton before reaching someone’s ears. Even the crackle of the firepit was barely audible.

“I have had enough of this… this thing!” he exclaimed. “You!” he pointed at Teyrn, “And you!” he pointed at Tara, “Have a wonderful, living member of your family you haven’t seen in years right before you and you refuse to speak to her because what? Tradition says that she’s dead? Well she isn’t!”

He glowered at Tara. “A ghost didn’t just knock you on your ass.” he growled. Turning to Teyrn, he stalked towards him. “And you… are you not a father? Do you not weigh your love for your daughter over tradition passed by word of mouth over a hundred generations?”

“But… the…” Teyrn was extremely pale for a barbarian.

“You’re breaking your daughter’s heart!” Endrance continued. “She agreed to join me because she saw what was at stake and made the right decision. You should have been proud of her, not… this!”

He stepped to the side so he could see all three of them at once. “Now, you three will sit here and talk to each other like family, or I swear by all magic I will make sure somebody walks out of here a real ghost!” he bellowed.

“What about everyone—” Tara started to say, sitting up.

“No one can hear you outside this room. I made sure of it.” he pointed at the thick layer of ice on the door. “No one can get inside unless I allow it. And no one in your village is brave enough to come in here with an angry wizard, are they?”

This time, Tanya shook her head. “No.” she said, looking at him like he was an entirely different person than she knew. “They wouldn’t.”

“Then talk.” he commanded, he leaned against the side wall and sulked. He wasn’t sure who started talking first, but the three of them were eventually conversing.

Endrance! a voice echoed in his head. Gullin of course. I felt that. What is the matter?

It’s nothing, Gullin. The mage protested. Just venting a little of my frustration at an archaic system that should have been dissolved centuries ago.

I do not understand. Gullin replied. Is that the ‘marriage’ I have heard about?

No. Well, I don’t know if that’s really a bad thing. I was referring to how any Ergkinoa that comes under my service is considered dead to the kingdom.

I do believe that is why they are called Daugnoa after that point, Endrance. Gullin replied.

Well I don’t like it. It’s stupid and causes more heartbreak than it does protect. It builds resentment and hatred towards the Spengur from both his Draugnoa and their families who have ‘lost’ them. Endrance mentally ranted. The three family members could see him scowling in their general direction as they talked and drifted unconsciously to the far side of the room from him.

I do not have any advice for this, Endrance. Gullin stated. This is a mortal matter and not one of magic.

I know, Gullin. I know. The mage mentally sighed. I need to fix this, but I can’t strongarm the whole country into acting differently without making everything worse.

Perhaps you could play off their superstitions? The firebird replied.

It will take time. There’s no easy or magical fix for this, friend. Endrance concluded.

While they spoke, Endrance decided to stand at the fire pit and sit down in front of it. He squeezed his forearms, feeling the pressure from his grip but he was unable to figure out how much muscle development there was. His recovery rate while respiring power was astounding, but it was costing him a lot of power over time. He was spending more than he was recovering.

Clenching his fists, he looked at the family conversation and closed his eyes, deciding to work on his nexus meridians.

He opened his eyes a while later to find Tanya sitting next to him, holding a long and narrow box on her lap as she chatted with her sister. There were tears down her face, but her smile contradicted what he thought was a sad moment. Endrance opted to stand up and stretch, causing the two to break off mid sentence.

“Are we done?” Tanya asked, wiping the tears off her face with her hands in the hope he hadn’t seen them. The mage shrugged, gesturing at the box.

“Is that the hide we were looking for?” he asked. Her father wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but there were numerous rooms in the longhouse.

Tanya shook her head, hugging the box to her. “No. Father’s getting it now. This… is just a memento from my family.” The Draugnoa shrugged. “Guess it’s grave goods now.”

Endrance looked at her for a long moment, trying to figure out if she was acting morose for something he did or something he didn’t do. She gave him a thin smile before standing up and tucking the box under one arm.

“Father wants me to take it up to the Ergnoa.” she explained. “A contribution to help them remember us by.”

“I… see.” Endrance replied, not fully understanding but willing to put the issue behind him. “Are we ready to go?”

The two turned to the sound of the door to the bedrooms opening and Teyrn came into the room, a thick roll of white hide in his arms. He looked at Tanya and gave her a smile that faded when he realized Endrance was also looking at him. The father passed the obviously heavy bundle to Tanya and touched her cheek affectionately before stepping away from the two.

To Endrance, it looked like they had a small child wrapped up in that much hide. “I thought you said there wasn’t a lot left.” he asked, looking it over.

The Draugnoa could hardly shrug. “This is about a third of what we got out of it.”

Endrance did the calculation in his head, estimating the final size of such a thing. “You had your bow made from its horns? Must have been young.” he commented.

“Yeah, it was young.” she admitted. “But it had been separated from the herd and was only starting to grow its horns.” she sighed. “Still the most dangerous thing I hunted alone.”

“I would bet. Are we ready to go now?” Endrance asked.

Tanya nodded. “Yeah. Just one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Can you thaw out the doors before we leave? I don’t want them to have to break out the axes.” she replied with a faint tic of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

The mage glanced at the ice-coated front doors out of the corner of his eye. “Oh yeah. Sure.” he muttered, drawing up the power to cancel out his spell.

****

Outside, the doors to the longhouse flung open in a hiss of steam as the ice instantly evaporated. Most of the villagers had taken defensive positions around their own houses, so only the few within direct line of sight witnessed the sudden burst of activity in the longhouse. Cries of surprise spread across the village, and members came forward to see Teyrn stumble out of the mist, followed by his daughter.

“The mage?” one of the village women asked, her hand tightening on a hatchet she had been preparing to use.

Tara shook her head. “Let us live. And is going to leave the rest of you too.” she explained.

“Where is he?” someone else asked from in the crowd.

Tara gave the group a look of fear. “Gone.” she replied. “Vanished into thin air, like a spirit.”

Chapter Nineteen

Endrance started dressing in his armor, first pulling on simple linen pants and a shirt. Over that he buckled his boots, checked to make sure they were comfortably secured, and then pulled the coat on. It was designed in a double-breasted style, so the left front panel of hide was tucked under the right panel, which was closed with four buckles down his left side. The arrangement was simple enough that Endrance could dress himself without help. Once the coat was fastened, he pulled on the gloves and clasped the vambraces over the cuffs of the jacket.

“Are you sure this is right?” Endrance asked, fidgeting in the dim lighting of the armory in Joven’s family home. “This wasn’t how I envisioned it.”

The armory was a large chamber designed to store most of the family’s weapons and armors. Dozens, if not hundreds, of weapons and armor pieces seemed haphazardly stored around the armory wherever the piece would fit. Endrance spotted a barrel that was stuffed to bursting with dozens of the same style of straight-bladed sword. All of the newest looking weapons were creations of Leona’s, though it looked like several of the older pieces had been sold recently, possibly to afford more materials. He made a mental note to pay her back somehow, and he wondered if she could be taught to forge Truesilver?

“You were the one who memorized where all the plates went, weren’t you?” Leona asked with a scoff. “Well, what did you want it to look like? Shining skin tight plate armor?”

Endrance fidgeted again, and Leona smacked his hand away. “Hold still!” she chided. “I’m making sure everything’s fitted right.”

“Well, yeah, sort of.” Endrance admitted, trying to hold still like she demanded. “Not like this… longcoat thing you’ve arranged.”

“Shows what you know.” Leona snickered as she worked, her calloused, aged hands working deftly despite the wear of years. “A coat of plates boasts excellent protection.”

She pulled on a leather strap, tightening the area around his belly before continuing. “They’re good to deflect slashes and to cushion blunt hits. If made of rarer hides, like blood tiger or Elkbrinir, it can make the armor ten times more effective. Elkbrinir hide is already almost arrow-proof before it’s properly treated. I can only imagine what kind of power Tanya puts behind her arrows to have brought this beast down.”

“So… isn’t all of that true with plate armor? Without having to get special materials?” Endrance asked.

Leona sighed. “The plates we designed are in-between two layers of hide. Anything that could get through the hide will deflect off the plates. And the front of the armor is doubled across your torso, so there’s twice as much protection as anywhere else. The layers sandwich the plates so they won’t make much noise when you walk. They’re comfortable, easy to wear, and aren’t as heavy as plate armors. Plate armor is good. But it’s not good for you. You are light, need to move fast, need to be flexible. You have the endurance of one of our children.” she nodded to herself. “This is better.”

The mage sighed. “Well, I etched the plates, so I guess I should have expected this. I guess I was just hoping for something that looked, well, more impressive.”

Leona stood and stepped back, looking over the fit. “An Elkbrinir coat of plates with a helmet looks pretty damn impressive, I think.” she said proudly. “And it’s distinguished. It stands out.”

Endrance’s armor was stark, snow-white, and had a somewhat bristly texture along the seams. Featuring slightly stiff looking sleeves and a thick collar that protected his throat, it gave him a sharp profile. The coat covered all the way down to his knees, where the knee-high armored boots guarded his lower legs. Similarly, the sleeves of his coat were tucked under vambraces of alloy that were etched over every surface with arcane script. His gloves were armored similarly to his boots, with exposed plates of alloy riveted to the sturdy brown leather. Since they were already acquired in advance, the gloves and boots were a different color than his armor.

He lifted his arms and stretched, and began testing the mobility of the armor. It was a heavy coat, for sure, but it didn’t feel nearly as bad as he had thought it would be. The coat was bound tightly around his chest and shoulders to help bear the weight and allow him flexibility elsewhere. He could feel the plates shifting in-between the layers of Elkbrinir hide, but he didn’t feel anything catching or bunching up.

“I think, at least, that this works.” Endrance admitted. “I should be able to continue on my journey.”

“Don’t forget the helmet.” Leona blurted, handing him the completed helmet. Endrance rotated it in his hands before putting it on his head. It was a minimally designed ridge helmet, without any nose guard and thin cheek guards. The metal plating of the helmet was etched over every inch with the arcane script that Endrance had designed. The inside of the helmet was thankfully padded. Turning his head left and right, he felt the weight was restrictive, but it wasn’t impossible to deal with. It fit snugly, and didn’t ever come close enough to make contact with his eyepatch.

“Good.” he said. “Now the final part. To see if the magic worked.”

Up until that point, Endrance had been very careful to dull his aura as much as possible. He had drained everything he had stored in it into his meridians, and had been keeping them in his nexus meridians so that the metal wouldn’t interact with any strong magical energy flowing around him while fitting. If he had designed something wrong, he didn’t want to blow Leona up with him.

“Take it outside!” Leona protested. “I don’t like magic in my house.”

Nodding, Endrance left the room and stepped out into the back yard where he had been training all the time. Outside, Giselle and Selene stopped sparring and turned to look at him.

“... Woah.” Giselle murmured.

Endrance smiled at her. “I’ve got to test the magic first, so please stand back, okay?” he said, urging the wolf to stay away. Selene had a glint in her eye as she silently stepped back with a hand on Giselle’s shoulder.

Endrance relaxed his control over his aura, and a small amount of power flowed into it. Since it was within the area of his aura, the alloy plates of his gauntlets, boots, and the alloy composing his helmet and vambraces gleamed with an inner shine, rippling in vibrant golden color as his aura filled out. A few seconds later, it stabilized, and Endrance realized two things.

The first was that he could no longer sense any magical auras anywhere outside of his armor. It was like he had put a blindfold on or plugged his ears, but for his magical senses. The second was that every piece of alloy he could see was gleaming, highly polished gold, not the dull and dark copper color it was a moment before. The metal was also more reflective of light, and even the etched grooves in the armor plating dazzled.

He closed his eyes and shook his head a few times, feeling the helmet shift, but it was designed for his head and didn’t come loose. “This is odd.” he muttered, referring to the loss of sensation.

“Odd?” Selene exclaimed. “That’s beautiful!”

“So shiny…” Giselle had started unconsciously approaching him, her eyes dazzled in the daylight reflecting off of his armor.

“I hope this doesn’t get too distracting.” Endrance muttered, but he couldn’t help but chuckle at their reactions.

Concentrating, he went through his basic exercises he used to do when he was an apprentice learning to manipulate power. His aura was pretty much unusable, from what he could tell: anything beyond the surface of his skin was either reflected or absorbed by the alloy now that it was attuned to his aura. He was basically feeding it with his aura. Considering how quickly he regenerated power into his aura, a weaker mage would find using the armor draining, or possibly even dangerous to wear for more than a few moments.

However, he still had his internal reservoirs in the form of his nexus meridians. Those slowly accumulated power as he slept and rested, so he would have some power to draw off if he needed to cast spells. With that in mind, he tested his magical ability while wearing the armor. Drawing on his reserves of power wasn’t a problem; the alloy didn’t leech any more power from him as he did so. Speaking words of power was normal, but forming the proper hand motions was difficult.

Struggling through a more complex spell form, Endrance managed to finish the spell wondering if he had dislocated a finger. A swirl of wind whistled through the backyard, sending leaves and dust flying.

“Damn.” he observed, checking his fingers and finding them okay. “That should have created a small tornado. I think I’m only at about a tenth of my strength until I get used to using these gloves. I feel I couldn't have done anything if I hadn't been training these last few days.”

“Tornado?” Selene asked.

Endrance held his hands about a foot apart. “Small one. You know, for demonstration purposes.”

The woman rolled her eyes and looked down at Giselle. “Let that be a lesson to you, Giselle.” she said loudly. “Don’t take after Endrance. He casts spells before he thinks.”

“Well I didn’t explode, so that’s what’s important.” he said quickly, changing the subject. “Let’s get everyone together and head back.”

“Just like that?” Selene asked.

Endrance nodded, reaching up and pulling the helmet off. The metal’s magical shine seemed to bleed out of it, becoming its dull color in a few seconds. Some of his senses returned, but they were still muted and dull.

“I’m eager to get back on track. I’ll have to take the gloves off, of course.” he admitted. “My hands aren’t free enough to teleport us while wearing it.”

“Ooh! I can help with taking armor off!” Selene exclaimed, hopping over and grabbing an arm.

Rolling his eye, Endrance chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure you can.” he said.

“Can I help?” Giselle asked innocently.

“No!” both replied immediately.

“Can we at least stay for dinner?”

“No.”

“Awww…”

“Okay fine.” Endrance acquiesced. “But only if you take a bath. The gods don’t even know the next chance we’ll get.”

Endrance had one last errand to run while Giselle was given a bath, a process that took longer due to her furry body. While Bridget and Selene struggled to get her to hold still long enough to get clean, he teleported up to the Ergknoa’s compound and delivered the box that Tanya had given him. While he was up there, he made a quick stop at the cavern of Crystalphage to pump his reserves as full as they could handle safely. The amounts he could contain in his first nexus meridian alone outstripped the quantities of power he could have stored just in his aura, and even if incomplete, he had an amount of power that rivaled the Archmagus.

He still remembered how small he had felt when he had first met the Archmagus. His own power was a drop in the ocean compared to Talos, and yet in less than a decade he had managed to not only match the leader of the Circle of Magi, but also overcome it.

****

Returning to the shoreline near where they had last left the ship only took a few more moments once everyone was fed, cleaned, and packed. Overall, they had lost over a week’s time on Endrance’s armor endeavor, so hopes were high coming out of the portal. Thankfully, the vessel was still within sight when they returned. The suns were low in the sky, so they didn’t have much time left in the day to make progress.

Endrance sent the signal, firing a bolt of shimmering light into the air that burst with a loud pop. It could take the elves a few hours to get to their location, so the group settled down to wait for their elven allies to arrive.

Staring into the distinctly different weather patterns of the Shatter, Endrance sighed and began stripping down to his undergarments and a shirt. He had removed the armor for dinner and a bath, so there he was unprotected again. He would want to test the armor out as quickly as possible, and work his way up in intensity the closer he got to the chaos storms.

“Everyone ready for a possible fight?” the nearly naked mage asked, sitting on the ground and pulling on a thick pair of socks. “While we were out, Gullin found something related to Malchior, I don’t know what it is or how dangerous it would be, so we should be ready in case there’s trouble.”

Joven surveyed the rest of the group, getting a nod from each of the Draugnoa and even Giselle. “Yep. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.” he stated, putting a hand on his hip.

This time since he hadn’t been holding back his aura, the alloy in his armor slowly transitioned from dull copper to shining gold as he was getting dressed.

“That looks really clean.” Bridget commented. “You okay with it getting dirty?”

The mage chuckled in response. “You have so little faith in me?” he commented, testing his mobility before reaching for his helmet.

Bridget gave him a predatory grin. “I’m guessing you magicked it so it’s always clean.” she replied. “Because that’s totally something you’d do.”

“It’s also waterproof, fireproof, and coldproof.” he gave her a wink before pulling the helmet over his head. “It’s also resistant to acid, but I couldn’t figure out how to make it completely immune to damage from it. Should remain a comfortable temperature no matter where I am, too.”

Tanya, Bridget, and Selene burst out laughing briefly in amusement.

“Of course it is!” Selene blurted. “What, does it fix itself too?”

Endrance blinked at them, unable to figure out what was so funny. “Well… of course. Why wouldn’t it?”

“Don’t listen to them.” Joven grunted. “It’s good to have a strong piece of equipment. Just don’t forget how to fight without it.”

Endrance nodded. “Of course.”

Joven took Giselle and Tanya to the side to teach the wolf a little about archery, leaving him with Bridget and Selene. The two walked up to him, and he posed to show off the armor. Behind them, Endrance could see Tanya hold up a stick and a knife, teaching her how she made her own arrows.

“So, what’s different when it’s shiny?” Selene asked. “Leona was complaining that the metal was too soft to be good armor.”

Endrance nodded. “When it is reacting to the aura of powerful individuals, the alloy should be nearly five times harder and more durable than tempered steel. That’s theoretical, though. I’ve not been hit to test it–”

He detected the fist incoming and realized that Bridget, impulsively, took a swing at his gut while he was talking. He could have started fading back to reduce the strength of her blow, but he knew that she wasn’t trying to kill him. If she had, she would have used her wooden arm.

The fist impacted the hide with a dull twack, evoking a grunt from Bridget and a cry of surprise from Selene, but Endrance didn’t even feel more than a shudder at the site of impact. Endrance did notice a faint crackling sound, and pain flashed across Bridget’s face.

“Damn!” Bridget exclaimed, holding her fist with her wooden hand. “That’s harder than a steel plate!”

Selene touched his abdomen, giving it a light push and discovering it still had a lot of flexibility. “That’s really good then. Wish we had something like this.”

Endrance smiled at her. “I did do something with what materials I had left. Can you go get the bag Joven’s carrying?” he asked.

With Selene gone he turned quickly to Bridget. “How bad?” he asked quietly.

Bridget grunted. “Two bones.” she said. “I can deal–”

Before she could react, Endrance grabbed her injured hand with one hand and chanted a word of power. The simple mudra required only one hand, so he was able to channel the spell while holding Bridget’s hand despite the bulk of the gloves. A faint light illuminated Bridget’s hand from within, revealing two broken bones that popped back into place and began mending.

“Hey! Ow!” Bridget exclaimed, almost taking a swing at him with her other arm before checking the motion.

“Shh!” Endrance hushed her. “It’s only two bones. Didn’t you lose an arm or something before?”

“Bastard.”

“Well, we know for certain my parents weren’t married, so you got me there.”

“That’s not what I–” Bridget replied, flustered.

“I know.” he responded.

“This kinda reminds me of the last time we fought.” Bridget admitted, her face flushing slightly.

“Where you kicked me through a wooden door and then called it foreplay?” he quipped back.

She chuckled. “Yep. I look forward to next time.”

“Fist fighting?”

Bridget’s smile was again predatory. “Foreplay.”

Selene returned to Endrance turning away from Bridget, coughing into his hand.

“Everything okay?” She asked, handing the bag to Endrance.

He nodded to her, clearing his throat before responding. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Selene glanced at Bridget and noted the look of amusement on her face.

Leaning in, she whispered “Did you find a new way to mess with him?”

Bridget nodded. “It’s been years and we’ve never been together, you know?” she replied.

Selene nodded, pursing her lips. “Well, I mean you’re technically just as married to him as I am, so I wouldn’t stop you…” Selene replied. “Do you want to give him a try?”

“Magic stuff!” Endrance blurted, interrupting as he thrust a thick bracelet made of the alloy between their faces. “Thank you.”

They both looked at him with some amusement on their faces. Behind him the rest of the group approached. Endrance handed each of them a similar bracelet, though obviously they had been sized for them specifically. Each one was an almost complete hoop of alloy an inch wide and several hairs thick. The edge had been turned up to create a ridge around the outer edges of the bracelet, and the outward-facing surface was both etched in Endrance’s script and set in small Crystalphage gems.

“Oooh…” Giselle cooed, turning hers over in her hands a few times before slipping it over her left arm. It seemed to shift and tighten slightly, adhering to her wrist securely.

“These bracelets have a mild protective effect on them, similar to what I made the armor for, but since you aren’t fully trained mages, this should be sufficient to keep you from being made sick by the energy in the Shatter. The gems will glow when they are working, and the metal probably will turn golden like my armor does. The effect is strongest then.” Endrance explained, counting the remainder of bracelets. “I also made enough for our crew, plus Valzoa.”

Almost as if on queue, the wind in the area picked up, swirling around them. Descending slowly, Valzoa landed near them, his arms spread and a smile on his face. One hand held his magic rapier, which was what let him fly.

“Did I just hear I’m getting presents?” he called out cheerfully. “I do so love receiving presents.” his pace slowed as he witnessed Endrance in his new outfit. “Well, I see that you went for the coat of plates.” he observed. “I was thinking you’d be silly and go for actual articulated plate armor.” he clucked his tongue. “I owe Eleale some coin again. That is some shiny armor, is it any good or is it just parade fair?”

Endrance figured that Valzoa would have made another gamble on his behavior. “It’s combat capable. I guess you could say I finished creating a new alloy that is very beneficial to magic users over a certain threshold of power. Here.” he handed Valzoa his bracelet.

The elf slipped the bracelet over his right wrist without comment or examination. The metal flared with inner gleam as it changed to gold faster than even Endrance’s plates did. Nodding to himself, Valzoa looked back at the mage. “This is excellent!” he exclaimed. “I can already feel how it’s filtering out the noise from the Shatter. I was getting tired of having to use guesswork to counteract the storms.”

“Guesswork?” Endrance replied. “You were… creating counternoise?”

Valzoa rolled his eyes. “A complete drag, I assure you.” he dismissed the before-thought impossible task with the wave of a hand. “This shouldn’t stop me from using my magic, right?”

Endrance stared at Valzoa for a few seconds before nodding. “Yeah. It only dampens your ability to sense magical power. It won’t even interfere with magically created senses.”

The elf nodded. “Is that the metal’s property?” he asked.

Shaking his head, Endrance held up his gauntlet. “No. The metal’s properties are increased durability, hardness, and reduced weight when exposed to power through contact or by being within something’s aura. It also possesses nearly perfect purity in regards to conducting magic.”

“So the dampening is the spell you worked in it. Interesting.” Valzoa replied. “Does this stuff have a name?”

“No.” Endrance replied. “It’s an alloy composed of–”

The elf cut him off with a sharp gesture. “Don’t. Don’t tell me.” he gave the mage a reassuring smile. “You designed it, you should name it.”

“Well, I finished it. My mother had started the research a few centuries ago but couldn’t–”

“But you finished it.” The elf interjected again. “So you name it.”

Endrance pondered for a few seconds, during which he could feel the eyes of the rest of the group upon him. He shoved the anxiety away and nodded.

“Aurichalcum.” he declared. “It’s called Aurichalcum.”

“Oar… E… Cal-Come? That sounds appropriate.” Valzoa replied, nodding. “Aurichalcum. It seems valuable.”

Endrance shrugged. “It is… to mages or magical beings. Otherwise it’s pretty much just as soft as copper.”

“The materials needed to make the alloy weren’t that much, either.” Joven added. “But as much as I’m sure you’d love to talk more about this, can we get going?”

Endrance nodded. “So you have two places to take me, right?”

Valzoa nodded. “Well we found one place and your Fjallar found another. Which do you want to see first?”

“The way that Malchoir took.” Endrance said plainly. “I need to see how he did it.”

Valzoa nodded. “Very good.” he replied. “This way.”

****

The location didn’t even require them to cross into the Shatter. Valzoa led them a few miles down the coast away from the Shatter to a cave along the coastline. The suns were just setting across the ocean horizon, casting everything in sharp contrast and long shadows.

The cave appeared to be formed in the face of rock that was jutting out of the sand just at the waterline, with a slope inside that led very quickly down and out under the ocean, instead of under the land. Large mounds of sand around it gave it a look of a large tube recently shoved up from under the sand. Joven volunteered to explore the tunnel a ways while Endrance examined it. Minutes later Joven returned, shaking his head.

“Place’s flooded. Looks like there’s a stone wall or something blocking off the passage about a hundred yards down.” the big man replied, wiping water out of his hair. “I think he’s been making a tunnel underground.”

“The cave is unnaturally made.” Endrance observed. “The patterns of grain in the stone has no age patterns or signs of being eroded by the ocean. He had to have made it.”

Thinking, Endrance leaned against the side of the cave entrance and did the calculations.

“I see,” he finally said. “I think I figured it out. The chaotic energy waves of the Shatter must only penetrate so deep into the earth. Tunneling underground would be safe, but he would have to go very deep to get under all that water and who knows what the earth’s condition is like out there.” he gestured to the ominous distant curtain of storms that composed the Shatter’s border. “If he does it right, there’s pretty much no risk to him, and he can circumvent almost all the dangers. And considering how patient he must be, that plan probably made the most sense.”

“So do we follow?” Joven asked.

The mage shook his head, pushing off the cave wall. “No. Malchoir would close off the tunnel at regular intervals, to keep flooding to a minimum. And we’re already prepared for the overland journey, so we should be much faster. He doesn’t know we’re following him, so he won’t make haste.”

“Then it’s time to go see the next wonder.” Valzoa offered. “This one will require the ship, however, since I don’t see us flying through the Shatter anytime soon.”

Endrance glanced at his companions. “Lead the way. I have bracelets for the rest of the crew and I’m sure they’ll want to enjoy the benefits.”

It took them an hour to make it to the ship via a rowboat, which then left them entirely in the dark night. Climbing aboard, Endrance realized that his armor did not actually glow on its own; it did, however, seem to amplify any light reflecting off of it. That was useful but not helpful, considering how bright white the rest of the coat of plates was. Eleale was abovedecks to greet them, and her smile of greeting ticked noticeably wider when she saw him come aboard.

“Good evening, Endrance.” she started, “Coat of plates?”

Endrance chuckled. “Yeah, he owes you money.” he said, smiling.

Once everyone was on board, Eleale turned to Valzoa. “Our heading, sir?”

Valzoa stopped her with a hand. “First thing’s first. Endrance?” he asked.

The mage stepped forward, holding out a fistful of bracelets. “These will shield you from the magical storms of the Shatter.” he declared, putting one in Eleale’s hand. “It may dull your magical senses, but that’s what the storm is attacking, so they wouldn’t have been useful in the Shatter anyways.”

Eleale slipped hers on after looking it over, and showed surprise when it adjusted to fit her. Endrance was glad to see that it didn’t transition to gold as fast as Valzoa’s or his armor did.

She smiled at him as her senses cleared. “Fantastic. We’ll be able to eat a normal meal again without fear of losing it.” she admitted.

The rest of the crew were quickly outfitted, and It only took seconds for them to look less nauseous. Endrance caught more than one nod of thanks and a smile from the otherwise stoic crew.

“All right.” Valzoa called out. “We’re going to the structure Gullin found in the Shatter. Get moving!”

Joven went to assist Eleale with the most physically demanding work, while the other Draugnoa spread out among the elves to aid in their tasks, leaving Endrance alone with Giselle. He looked down at the wolf to find her looking up at him expectantly.

“So… what do we do?” she asked. “I was told to stop trying to help them sail, so I guess I’m sticking with you!”

The mage felt a laugh struggling to escape his chest. “Well, that’s that, I guess.” he declared. “How are your lessons going?”

Giselle looked down, her ears drooping. “They’re okay. I can’t concentrate like you say I should.” she admitted, finding the deck suddenly very interesting.

Sighing, Endrance put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go sit down in the galley, and we’ll go over it again.” he said patiently. “It takes years to train an apprentice, so don’t worry if you can’t do everything right away.”

The wolf girl glanced up at him before dropping her eyes back to the deck as they walked to the stairs down. “But you learned everything so fast. They said you knew more about magic during your trial than most of the mages in the court.”

Endrance waved the words off with a hand as he replied. “That’s only because I had the memories of a lot of mages in my head, even if I didn’t know it at the time.” he explained. “I’m not normal. Actually, I don’t think anything about my life’s been what anyone would be considered normal.”

“I guess.” Giselle replied, her ears perking up as she giggled. “You are pretty weird.”

Rolling his eyes, Endrance opened the door to the galley. “We won’t be able to do any senses training while you’re wearing the bracelet, so we will work on your focus.”

“Aww…”

Chapter Twenty

Endrance was only passively watching the wolf practice her focus. As amusing as it was to watch her balance silverware on the tip of her nose until she could walk around the room without letting it fall off, the seventeenth or eighteenth attempt had gotten somewhat boring. He had been put through worse than that growing up, but at the time it had seemed normal to him that he would have to learn to focus on maintaining balance while his master magically lobbed projectiles at him.

Learning to control her balance and the balance of a singular object would be made harder by the rocking of the ship. This seemed a fair trade for learning to deal with external factors instead of being shot at while training.

While Giselle did her best to keep a spoon from taking a dive off her snout, he spent his time thinking about the spellscribing on his body. While he had been making minor adjustments over time since he had been trapped in the Bastille, they had been relatively the same since most of them had been carved into his flesh.

The problem he was running into was the fact that the original arrangement of spells scribed into his body were determined by his mother Valeria. The prison of the Bastille was designed to hold Malchoir in it, and in order to fool it into releasing Endrance, Valeria had to have Endrance be a close enough copy of his father. So the spells scribed in his body were approximate to his father’s.

This could be used to his advantage. His father’s spellscribing was likely perfectly captured in Valeria’s memories, but he found that plumbing her memories was dangerous. A veteran Archmagus, Valeria’s imprint had a force of will leagues above even King Kalenden’s, which he had problems dealing with even in his own head. He’d gotten stronger now, but he was sure Valeria wasn’t beyond sabotaging her own memories in order to get at him. Still, it would be a great tactical advantage to know exactly what kind of spells Malchoir could sling instantly.

Gullin?

Yes, Endrance? Gullin replied.

I do not know if this will work out in our favor, but I will be out of contact for a little bit.

Are you going to run off on your own again?

Just in my head, Gullin. The mage replied. Just in my head.

Endrance took one last glance at Giselle, noting that she was going just over ten seconds before the spoon fell, and then closed his eye.

Entering the library of his mind had become so easy he did it without putting any conscious thought into it. He just willed himself there and he was there faster than it took to put the thought to words.

The library had grown in size and opulence as he had gotten older and consequently more powerful. Originally envisioned as an enclosed building of a couple of stories in height, Endrance had expanded his mental landscape as he had developed his skills and integrated the memories he had gleaned from the various imprints in his travels. He had come to accept those parts as his own, and was able to access them with more confidence.

The central part of his library remained relatively the same: an inch-deep pool filled with crystal-clear water. He used the pool as a visualization of the purity and strength of his focus. He had last envisioned it as lined in silver, and when he arrived in his library, he stood reflected upon the surface of the water as if it were a perfect mirror. The alabaster floors around the pool were highly polished, and fine lounges arranged so that he could read and enjoy the peace of the pool.

Surrounding the pool was a radial arrangement of bookshelves. Like a sunburst, the shelves spread out into a circular pattern, surrounded beyond that in orderly rows that stretched on for a hundred feet in every direction. These shelves were an organization of his thoughts, memories, and knowledge, each separated into disparate books. Some subjects he knew little of, and the shelves were sparse or bare, and other subjects were so completely comprehended that it took up multiple rows of shelves.

The central library chamber was dedicated to his non-magical understanding, and not the magical knowledge he had accumulated. He knew that Malchoir had the ability to project his thoughts into his mind at close range; he had moved things to keep the most dangerous pieces of information safe from his enemy or any other prying minds.

The walls of his library were alabaster stone, beautifully polished and vaguely reminiscent of Ironsoul’s style of architecture. Bright and colorful silken tapestries on the walls portrayed key moments in his life. His first encounter with a hydra, and its subsequent death, battling Kaelob in the mountain ruins, Anna’s death in his arms in Balator’s throne room, all rendered in almost hypnotic detail. Newly added to the walls were two new tapestries: his captivity in the Bastille, and his final confrontation with Valeria. Endrance noted that the fibers of the last one seemed to burn faintly green at the edges, like a necromantic ember. He supposed whatever she did to him would leave some kind of permanent mark in his mind.

Thick red curtains adorned the windows, and a plush red carpet softened Endrances footfalls within the space. The central chamber of his library had multiple floors, the second through fifth floor forming a ring around the central chamber with stone and polished dark wooden banisters. There were other rooms in the library of his mind, but this one was the grandest.

A dome capped the central chamber of the library. Composed of stained glass, it was the source of all light within his library. Divided into four panels, each depicted one of the Draugnoa in scintillating colored glass. Each showed the women as he understood them, and they evolved as he got to know them better.

Anna’s was the only one that remained the same on every visit. The fallen spear-maiden of his Draugnoa, her death had hammered home the gravity of the threats they faced. Her countenance was peaceful despite being armed with a spear and shield, and her likeness bore a black halo. Bridget’s window had not changed much in the time, though he appreciated her consistency. Tanya’s window had only changed slightly, with a red sliver of glass that marred her forehead, and arrows jutted from the grass at her feet. Both Bridget and Tanya had golden halos around their heads.

Selene’s window had changed the most since she was the only one to actually enter the library of his mind. The woman portrayed in the window was the same as he had seen when she visited. Portrayed in a gray dress with a red-beaded shawl and black cord belt that bore the resemblance to a spade tail, her eyes were as red as her lips. Her hands were held out before her, in a gesture of offering. The storm that had once raged behind her was reduced to a cloudy sky. Her halo had found its center.

The windows always brought a smile to his face.

Looking over the shelves, he was glad to see that those containing Blood Tiger memories and instincts had finally been set up, as well as a full shelf on goblin histories and tribal practices. Kaelob’s life experiences were cataloged to an entire bookshelf, just like Kalendens. Valeria’s life, however, was surprisingly empty of books. Not because he didn’t have the knowledge to sort through and internalize like he had with the others, but because it had been far, far more dangerous for his mind to access them without precautions. The fact that her full impression had escaped into his subconscious even though he had not granted her any volition was evidence enough that the minds of archmages were dangerous.

But now it was time to try to gather information, and he couldn’t waste time getting literally lost in thought. Endrance mentally grit his teeth and drew upon every ounce of willpower he had built up since the day he had begun training to use magic. Normally he would take a cautious approach, and use a small amount of will until he could tell it was insufficient and then escalate from there, but in this instance it would give a mind like Valeria’s time to construct more powerful defenses. Instead, he was going all or nothing, maximum force from the moment he began.

A split second later, he knelt at the edge of the silver pool and thrust his hand forcefully into it, the silver softening like quicksand at his fingertips. For at least a split second, he had to accept everything that had happened to him, everything he had done, and everything he hadn’t done. Without total and complete transparency of thought, his own thoughts would slow him down, conceal where she was hiding. It was the part of him that hated himself that was where she had taken residence, he was certain of it. He couldn’t help but give her some volition when she was safely entrenched in his guilt and self-loathing.

He may not be able to accept those parts of himself perfectly, but he could do it for a few moments. His hand found something that felt like a neck, and he grabbed onto it with every ounce of strength he could muster.

He pulled, and she struggled against him; even in his own head, he couldn’t completely dominate her will. Still, his arm slowly withdrew from the silver pool, the metal parting to allow Valeria to pass into the central chamber. It was grueling work, and every muscle of his mental form trembled at the effort. The library shook around him, a rumble rattling the stained glass ceiling. The edges of the tapestry of his battle with Valeria burst into sickly green flames.

He stood, hauling his prize into the air until her feet dangled just over the surface of the pool. Valeria was once a beautiful woman when she first arrived in his mind. Since he had destroyed Valeria’s body not too long ago, the rest of her aura had been absorbed, which let an updated impression of her into his mind. This meant Endrance stared into a face that was intact, but her skin was shot through with blackened veins. Her eyes were pits of darkness containing angry pinpricks of emerald light for pupils. Her thin hands clung to his wrist desperately, but her face only glared at him with annoyance.

“If you really wanted to talk to me, you could have just asked.” she spoke, her voice a choked whisper.

The mage kept his grip tight. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe,” he replied. “So, you know what I want?”

Valeria tapped her fingers against his wrist in a drumbeat pattern. “Malchoir.” she replied. “He’s all that’s on your mind lately. How’s the eye, by the way?”

Endrance and Valeria turned their eyes to look at the still-burning tapestry, which never seemed to be consumed by the flames. “I guess I can see for myself.” she admitted. Looking back at Endrance, she seemed pleased by his scowl.

“I’m not even here to ask you about that.” he said evenly.

Valeria’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Oh?” she rasped, “You really should. It’s surprising what knowledge is just lying around when you tap into the other sid–"

Endrance tilted his head and tightened his grip, cutting her off. “In due course, mother. First thing’s first. Malchoir’s spellscribing.”

Valeria hung in his grip, seemingly nonplussed by his strength. “I do have quite an intimate memory of the spells over every… inch of his skin.” she replied. Endrance had already gone through all the mental trauma he had time for, and he just narrowed his eyes at her prod.

“I want the memory.” he declared. “I can force my way through to it, if I need to.”

Valeria held up a finger. “But,” she started. “That could leave you too mentally exhausted at best, and I just might be spiteful enough to damage or alter the memory.” She smiled at him, despite the pressure around her neck. “So why should I do what you want when I have all the power here?”

Endrance nodded. “You have a strong bargaining position.” he admitted, his grip relaxing slightly. “But, you seem to be ignoring the most important part.”

Valeria’s expression seemed almost comically curious. “Oh?” she asked.

“Malchoir betrayed you.” Endrance growled. “You had been loyal enough to destroy the people who relied on you, turn your students into slaves, and even corrupt the rare few talented human mages in the world. Maybe, you were infatuated with him, even… loved him. And what did you get in return?”

A strange change went over Valeria’s body. It was like the impression of her litch-side surged to the forefront of herself, causing her body to suddenly wither and rot in his grip as she transformed. Green fire surged out of her eye sockets as her hair stood on end.

“He left me!” she shrieked, causing the placid water beneath them to shudder and ripple away from her. The books on nearby shelves rattled, threatening to become dislodged from the places in his memories he had organized them. “He told me to remain there. Enforced it with magic. Bound me — an Archmagus — to a simple stretch of shoreline!”

Endrance was having difficulty keeping control over her power. Even a simple imprint, a copy of her mind without any kind of driving force behind it, was almost strong enough to break through his grip. Redoubling his efforts he visualized the room calming down despite her rage, turning her into only sound and fury but with no real effect on his world. Her anger rushed into him and through him, disappearing into nothing outside his mind.

“And there will be revenge.” Endrance spoke calmly. “Now tell me where…”

He heard, with his physical ears, a plaintive whine cut through his concentration. Quickly locking Valeria’s imprint away, he opened his eye, and saw a spoon rattling on the floor in the middle of the room.

Giselle was pressing her back against the far wall from him, every inch of her body language translating pure terror as she stared at him with wide eyes. The stools and tables in the galley were somehow rattling against the walls to his left and right, and he could hear someone pounding on the door trying to get in despite the furniture forming a barrier. Looking down, he saw his hands were clenched into fists and most curiously, the Aurichalcum in his armor was emitting a low pitched keening sound. Vibrations from his body caused the wood underneath him to writhe and slowly start flaking apart.

Only then did he realize that he was snarling at nothing. Releasing his clenched fists, he forced himself to take a breath and pull off his helmet. As he did so, the strange resonance in the room faded rapidly, allowing the furniture to fall to the floor, where it was consequently kicked out of the way by a powerful booted kick. Joven stormed into the room, a truesilver short sword in hand.

“What the hells was that?” The barbarian roared, turning about the room. He quickly put together the clues, turning to glare at Endrance. “What did you do?” he asked.

Selene rushed into the room next, spotted Giselle, and ran to her. The wolf girl cried in Selene’s arms as she scooped her up and cradled her.

Endrance set the helmet aside and shook his head. “What did you all experience?” he asked. “I didn’t do anything, exactly.”

“For doing nothing, you nearly killed this poor girl with fright!” Selene replied back, patting the distraught wolf on the head. Giselle’s sobs softened as she was comforted.

Endrance shook his head, slowly standing up. “I was trying to access Valeria’s memories. She was not happy that I succeeded.” he answered. “I didn’t know anything had bled into the world around me until just now.”

“Bled into the world around you?” Joven demanded. “Since when can you do that?”

“I…” Endrance stared at his hands. “I guess now.” he muttered. “Now tell me, what did you experience?”

Joven put the sword away. “We were getting ready to settle down for the night when everyone above decks felt this… sensation. Like, when you’re in battle and you are eye to eye with a foe and you can tell they want nothing but to see you utterly destroyed. Or, when someone is possessed by the furie and goes berserk.” the big man explained. Endrance knew just how palpable that sensation of murderous desire berserkers gave off. Only whatever training Joven had let him use that power without going wild.

Not quite shaking the vague sensation of unease he felt, Endrance took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” he said, touching his chest. “I didn’t know that I could even project such a thing, much less that it was possible. I think that there’s something going on with me.”

“Maybe Gullin can help?” Selene offered. Bridget poked her head into the room, mindful of the splinters from the damaged door frame. Her eyes widened as she surveyed the wreckage.

“I don’t want to call on him if i can avoid it.” Endrance replied, noting that the bird hadn’t reacted to the sudden surge of emotion and the ruckus happening on the ship.

Joven scooped up a chair and plunked it down near Endrance. “So let me guess.” the big man started. “You’re worried that the bird is working for your father now?”

Endrance shrugged sheepishly. “Sounds stupid, I know.” he replied.

Joven just stared at him.

“It’s not stupid, is it?” The mage stammered after a moment.

The barbarian’s eyes were gauging him with sharp intent. “Endrance, I’ve known you since you were a young man. I’ve watched you make your first kill. I have fought with you through thick and thin, and witnessed you do things that would make lesser men soil their drawers. I know you, and I trust you.”

Taking a deep breath, Joven continued. “When you told me the extent that your mother controlled your growth and your magic to match your fathers, I was suspicious of Gullin. The Fjallar are but three, so there aren’t a lot of them to choose from. That means that your father must have had him as his own familiar before he was captured.”

Looking down, the mage felt his worst fears coming true. “Yeah. I had figured out as much a few weeks ago while we were still in the capital of Ironsoul. I’ve done what I could to complete the circle on my back and make my own adjustments, but I don’t think the circle is designed to prevent anyone else from taking control of the familiar once it’s been summoned.”

Carrying Giselle, Selene gave Bridget a look that said ‘get in here’ and walked out of the room, taking the traumatized wolf to their quarters to help her settle down. Bridget rolled her eyes and picked up a chair for herself.

“I always thought it was weird.” Bridget offered. Endrance’s one-eyed glare got her rushing to clarify. “I mean, your favorite elements you use are lightning and ice magic. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you even use a fire spell. So why is your familiar all fire magic and explosions?”

Endrance scratched the side of his head. “I don’t know.” he answered. “That’s… something obvious I should have considered.”

“I bet What’s-His-Face likes using fire magic.” Bridget continued. “So if you have any tricks to not getting burned, I’d like to hear them.”

The mage tilted his head, thinking. “I’ve been either greatly resistant or immune to fire since I summoned him.” he realized. “If I were to be betrayed, and Malchoir does in fact use fire magic, I would be completely vulnerable to him. I will need to change my protective wards around just in case.”

Joven shrugged. “I’m not completely sure Gullin is our enemy, but we should be prepared for the chance that your father can take control away from you.”

Endrance tapped his nose. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. I have reason to believe that Gullin isn’t actively working for Malchoir. But I suspect that Malchoir has… well, seniority when it comes to contractual control of the familiar.”

Bridget grinned. “So you’re not telling him everything you’ve done to prepare just in case?”

The mage’s expression looked somber. “I don’t tell any of you everything.” he said with a regretful tone.

Bridget’s grin faltered. “Even… me?”

“Even Joven.” Endrance added. “And Selene.”

“And she has sex with you.” Bridget murmured. “That’s cold.”

Endrance turned to look her in the eye. “How… does that make it any different?”

Bridget’s face reddened. “Well, you know… you are so intimate?”

Joven leaned back in his seat, his trademark grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I want to hear this.” he said loudly.

Endrance rolled his eye while he waited to see if Bridget had anything more to add.

In the seconds of quiet, the girl, trained in physical combat and not in social sparring, started to feel nervous.

“Well, don’t people like, tell each other stuff after doing it?” she asked. “I mean Selene would bring up these things you did that were cute. And It seemed like you really open up to her.”

Glancing at Joven, Endrance planned out his next few words but looking too pleased, Joven chuckled. “Wait, you’ve been married to the man for how long, and you’ve never had sex?” the big man asked jovially, “Endrance, you’ve been slacking off.”

“Trying to save the world here, Joven.” Endrance replied with mock indignity. “Besides the last time I was pushy with her she threw me through a wall.”

“Affectionately.” Bridget snapped. “And it was a door.”

Endrance merely gestured with both arms at the woman in response. “See?”

“Do I need to explain to you Balatoran courtship rituals again?” Joven asked, still grinning. “It’s been a few years, you might have forgotten.”

A surge of chaotic magical energies flooded across the ship at that moment, but the crew’s protective equipment completely shielded them from the dissonance. Even without his helmet, the rest of the armor’s stabilizing properties only made him slightly nauseous and gave his head the sensation of being covered in a thousand bees for a moment.

Completely heedless of the effect, Joven started going on about traditional courtship rites and responses, much to both Endrance and Bridget’s dismay. While he was recovering from the wild surge of power, Endrance made a revelation.

“Wait.” he said, holding up a hand. “I have told someone everything.”

“Who?” Bridget took the bait, glad for a reason to depart from the current conversation topic.

Endrance shrugged. “Anna.” he said, holding his hands nervously. “She knows everything.”

Bridget frowned at him. “Very funny.” she said, starting to get upset. “Anna’s been dead for a long time now, Endrance. Selene’s already the age Anna was when she died, you know.”

The mage tapped his head. “I know. She’s in here. With me. You can ask Selene, she’s been there.”

Bridget shook her head, unsure if she should laugh at him or be mad. “Wait, Selene’s even been in your head? You have to be kidding me now.”

Shaking his head, Endrance smiled at her. “No.” he replied calmly. “One of the perks of consummating marriage. You get to see what really makes your spouse tick.”

Bridget stared at him, her face paralyzed in confusion. A second later Joven burst out laughing, with Endrance close behind. Bridget’s face slowly turned red as the gears turned in her mind.

“And you just let Anna roam around in there?” she finally stammered out, flustered. “Even when you and Selene...?”

The mage tilted his head as he fixed her with his gaze. “It’s Anna. She would have been right there with Selene, you know.” he flushed a little, thinking about that. “I’d have been screwed. Not in a fun way.”

The warrior woman looked down at the floor. “So.” Bridget began. “I’ll… I’ll do it.” she whispered.

“What?” Endrance was taken aback by what she said.

“I wish I could see Anna again.” Bridget replied. “If sleeping with you is what I need to do, then that isn’t that bad, right? I mean, you’ve already proven yourself to me a dozen times.”

“Wait.” Endrance said, holding out a hand. “I was only joking about that. I was able to bring Selene into my mind because we share an intimate bond, but that doesn’t mean that it has to be a physical one. And most certainly not a physical intimacy done just to get what you want, either — That’s not how it works.”

Bridget’s hopes fell. “Then… I can’t?” she asked.

Endrance leaned back, thinking. “I’m going to tell you both things that no one else knows. Just a second.”

Removing his gloves, he carefully intoned a spell, weaving the form of it with his fingertips and giving it substance with his voice. Releasing the spell, the broken furniture and door began to float up into the air, almost as if in reverse. The two barbarians were relieved of their chairs as they moved back to their normal position. Splinters of wood drifted back into their frames, and within seconds, the galley looked as if there had not just been a massive tidal wave of magical force just minutes ago.

“Woah.” Joven observed.

Nodding, Endrance pulled the same chairs out for them and then walked over to the galley door. He chanted a word of power and formed his hand into the position of silence before touching the frame. A ripple in the air surrounded the door, spreading out and fading into the wall around it.

“There, now no one can hear through the door, nor will they be able to open it without alerting us.” he said, feeling accomplished.

“So, it’s that important?” Joven said solemnly. The mage nodded.

“You know that Selene is half-demon.” Endrance started, finding a chair and taking a seat. “What I haven’t been fully clear on is that because of her demon half going out of control, I had to use some of the magic I learned from when I killed Kalenden. She’s physically and spiritually bound to me.”

“So, she can’t disobey you?” Bridget asked.

“She can, but all I have to do is will it, and she will suffer a kind of pain that no mortal mind has ever dreamed possible.” Endrance supplied. “She doesn’t know the full extent of it, but this binding goes deep. She has a soul, which means that there is more leeway in the binding than with most demons, but for the most part I own her. Well, in a metaphysical sense. Not a… legal way.”

“It means that when I mentally retreat into my thoughts and she’s close enough to me, I can take her mind with me. I haven’t told her how complete my control of her is, and I don’t want to.” Endrance looked regretful. “I want her to be free, but the binding is needed until her psychological state is fully merged.”

“Bullshit.” Bridget blurted. “You can’t control her mind!”

Joven went to speak, but Endrance held out a hand to stop him. “I know it’s hard to believe. Would a demonstration help?”

“How would you demonstrate it without giving it all away?” Joven asked.

“How about this. You tell me a word, and I can promise you that the next time she hears that word she’ll do something of your choosing.” Endrance supplied. “Then, you can leave this room and see if it worked.”

“That’ll never work.” she chuffed. Looking at Joven, she nodded. “You’ll watch him, make sure he isn’t casting a spell when I go look?” she asked. The big man nodded, somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of controlling one of his companions, but the test seemed harmless enough.

“All right?” Endrance asked. “What is the word, and the reaction?”

Bridget thought for a moment. She looked up at the ceiling while she thought. “Ah!” she exclaimed, looking back at the mage. “Here. The word is ‘punch’, and she should laugh.”

“Just… laugh?” Endrance asked, trying not to laugh at the simplicity of her request.

“Okay, fine. Something she wouldn’t do.” Bridget amended. “Like, umm… moo?”

“Like a cow?”

“Yeah.”

Endrance narrowed his eye at her. “Are you sure this isn’t tied to some kind of jealousy about her chest being bigger than–”

“I swear I will punch you in the face if you keep talking.” Bridget blurted, her face redder than ever.

Chuckling, Endrance closed his eye. Neither Joven or Bridget could feel the tiniest shiver in the air around him as he conveyed his ‘order’ to the subject of his binding. The protective bracelets that Endrance had given them would have wiped out even the slightest chance of them getting a ‘hunch’.

“There, you should be able to–" his words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

The spell warding the sounds from outside fizzled away with a chiming sound as the door swung open. Valzoa peeked in and surveyed the room. “I had heard that someone had wrecked the galley but I think maybe they were drinking a bit too much this early in the night.” the elf replied with a sniff. “A shame they didn’t share any with me.”

“Ah, I fixed it.” Endrance offered. “It was my fault anyways.”

“Good.” Valzoa nodded his head as he spoke. “Is Giselle all right? I can hear whimpering coming from your bunks.”

Endrance sighed, clapping his hands onto his armored thighs. “I… accidentally projected some anger while I was meditating.”

Valzoa walked into the room. “And that was what wrecked the room and scared the poor wolf-girl to tears?” he asked, hooking a chair with a foot and spinning it gracefully on one of its legs before sitting on it and pinning it down in one motion that reminded Endrance again how naturally deft the elf was.

“I guess so. I never had done it before, and it wasn’t even my anger. It was the echo of Valeria in my mind raging at Malchoir for betraying her.” Endrance explained.

Valzoa whistled. “That’s impressive. I’d be concerned should you ever level your own anger at a person, in specific, intentionally even.” he smiled. “You might kill a man that way.”

Making a face, Endrance shook his head slightly. “Kill? No, you can’t just kill a man by being angry at them.”

Valzoa flicked his wrist dismissively. “Angry? No. You wouldn’t be able to harm more than a fly that way. I’m speaking the truest, purest kind of fury that mortal hearts can experience. Combined with the will of an Archmagus, I would not be surprised in the slightest if someone harnessing both could strike a man down without raising a finger.”

Joven glanced at Bridget before raising a hand. “Maybe we should talk about protecting against that. Your father’s going to be more than angry when you show up to stop him.”

Remembering his encounter with Malchoir in the Bastille, Endrance nodded. “Yeah. I’ll have to start doing some kind of training.”

Shrugging, Valzoa leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs without looking like he was trying. “Well, those of you with battle experience should be at least somewhat resistant; you’re used to people wanting you dead. But, if you want it to not affect you at all, maybe you should try training.”

Endrance nodded, but paused. “Wait. I don’t even know how to direct this, even if I could summon it up again.”

The elf merely hopped to his feet, one heel tapping the chair leg and sending his seat flipping through the air to land back in its place with a clatter. “Well, it will have to wait until after we explore this next section. We’re coming up on that building Gullin found.”

Leaving the room, Valzoa slipped past Selene, who had returned to join them. “Giselle is asleep now.” she stated. “Though I really don’t understand what happened.”

“It’s complicated.” Endrance replied, sighing as he realized he’d have to explain it all again, and then another time when Giselle woke up.

Bridget glanced at Endrance before turning to her fellow Draugnoa. “I think Endrance beat me to the Punch.” she blurted, trying to fit the word into a sentence so that she didn’t feel like a complete idiot if it got called out.

Selene started to smile, but her expression turned into one of surprise as she leaned slightly forward and let out a startlingly loud “Moooo!”

Bridget didn’t laugh, as Endrance had expected. Instead, both her and Joven’s jaws dropped as they stared at her. Selene, her eyes as wide as dinner plates, turned to Endrance.

“What was that?” She exclaimed, more than a little concerned.

Endrance shrugged. “What was what?” he asked, putting up a cheerful facade.

She replied by gesturing to her face. “The part where I put on a cow impression! I just suddenly needed to do it!”

“Huh.” Endrance shrugged. “That’s odd.” he stated.

“Maybe it’s a side effect of the weird magic in the area?” Selene asked, still concerned. “I mean, is the bracelet you made not strong enough for me?”

Endrance took her hand and looked the metal over. It was still shining golden, and after a few seconds he was able to determine it was more than capable of protecting her. He tapped the metal, muttered to himself, and drained some of the power trapped in the metal away. It turned back to its dull copper color for a second or two, before Selene’s own natural power started seeping into it, causing it to regain its shine and brightness slowly.

“There. I cleared the thing, so if it happens again you need to let me know.” he stated, pulling his gloves back on.

Selene nodded, sitting down nearby. “All right. So tell me what happened.”

“I’ll have to make it quick.” Endrance responded, noting that the other two in the room finally composed themselves. “We’re almost to the structure Gullin found.”

Chapter Twenty One

While Selene was busy getting prepared for their exploration, Bridget cornered Endrance before he could ascend to the deck.

“Don’t think I‘ve forgotten what we were talking about.” she warned, her hand on his shoulder.

Donning his helmet, his eye glittered as the helm flashed into its golden state. “Which?” he asked. “The part where you asked to sleep with me, or the part where you had Selene mimicking barn animals?”

Bridget’s grip tightened as she resisted the urge to throttle him. “She’s not going to do that every time someone says ‘punch’ now, is she?” she growled at him. One of the elves walking by barely gave them a sidelong glance as he passed.

The mage shook his head slightly. “One time only. It’s a demonstration, that’s all.”

“It’s kinda messed up that you can do that.” she whispered as another elf passed in the other direction.

Endrance looked at her seriously. “Other than the initial binding, that was the only time I’ve done it. When you didn’t take me at my word.”

Bridget let go of his shoulder long enough to smack him on the arm, an act he didn’t even feel despite the loud ‘thwack’ of her fist on his armor. “I’m sorry.” she whispered. “I guess I was upset because you were telling me I couldn’t see Anna again and she could. Just don’t do that to her ever again. Just, let her go, okay?”

Sighing, Endrance nodded. “I don’t ever want to have to use it again. But I can’t release the binding. I hope you understand.”

“Not really.” Bridget replied. “Why not?”

“Because it will dissolve naturally when her demonside and her human half are fully in harmony.” he supplied, waving to the third elf to walk by in as many minutes. “If I don’t keep her bound for now, then her emotional and physical state will fall apart again.”

“Fine.” she said aloud. “But from now on I’m not letting you sleep alone with her.”

Endrance did a double take. “What?” he asked, startled.

Bridget turned away from him, hiding her face. “You could be using that magic to order her to do all kinds of nasty things. I need to keep an eye on you until I’m satisfied you won’t take advantage of her.”

“Ah.” Endrance replied, getting it. “Well, you’re welcome to share the bed, I guess. It’s going to get cramped on this boat.”

“Ship” one of the elves leaned out from their bunkroom to correct him.

“Whatever!” Bridget growled. The elf smiled and ducked back into his room.

Endrance smirked. “Are you sure they won’t tell Selene how you really feel?” he asked

“Not if they like having legs.” Bridget stated quite loudly, likely carrying her voice to any sensitive ears on the ship.

“Who are you threatening?” A voice called from their own room, Tanya stepped out, testing the pull on her bow. Shortly behind her was Selene who was wrapping her dagger and chain around her hourglass waist. Bridget shook her head. “Just… reminding myself what I would do if someone crossed me.” she retorted. “Ready?”

“Ready!” Endrance exclaimed, taking that opportunity to ascend the stairs to the deck. The ocean air whipped about him, chilling his exposed face with a cold salty breeze. The shore was completely out of sight for him, and only the impressively distinct divide between the edge of the Shatter and the safer normal world provided him context as to where he actually was.

Following the edge of the chaotic ocean and ruined land, Endrance finally spotted where they were heading.

Near the edge of the Shatter lay a larger than average chunk of broken rock and landmass, and from it jutted a lighthouse-looking tower that canted at a 45 degree angle that left a dozen yards of it outside of the danger zone. The stone was gray and oddly marked with almost organic looking lightning scoring along the portion that remained within the Shatter, but the top seemed for the most part intact. The lighthouse chamber was formed of polished silver and finely ground crystal, glimmering and glinting iridescently as the moons and stars above twinkled. The tower was high up enough that they could sail under it on the safe side without the mast colliding, but not so high that a person atop it couldn’t reach out and touch it.

Perched on top was Gullin in the size Endrance had last left him; a large bird of prey. It afforded the familiar good flying range and maneuverability at the expense of his usual raw physical power. It also meant he was light enough to perch on the cupola without greatly affecting the weight.

“It’s… beautiful.” he whispered, moving aside so the others could see it. Valzoa stood near the prow, giving out careful directions as the crew bustled to slow the ship until it came to a stop underneath.

The elven male turned to him, his face serious for once. “Be careful.” he warned, picking up a grappling hook and rope. “Just because you’re inside a building doesn’t mean the energy of the Shatter cannot reach you. And who knows what’s inside? Certainly not I.” Valzoa spun the hook a few times before flinging it above him, causing the rope to sing through his hands. The hook sailed up and clattered to a stop atop the railing.

The hook appears to be in an optimal position. Gulling observed. If there was any indication that the bird had known about their suspicions of him, Endrance couldn’t tell from his mental tone.

Endrance nodded to Valzoa, who gave the rope a few tugs to confirm for himself.

Why didn’t you hear me earlier? Endrance asked.

When did you attempt to contact me? Gullin replied, curiosity tinging his mental tone. I am unaware of any conditions that would prevent me from being able to sense your thoughts.

Still, a few minutes ago I had an emotional explosion and you didn’t even notice. Endrance replied, letting some of his frustration and concern well into his mental ‘language’. I nearly killed Giselle.

I am sorry, Endrance. The Fjallar transmitted a feeling of shame along his words. You indicated that you were going to be in your library, so I… let my mind wander. With that response came the feeling of sleepiness and thoughtlessness.

Were you asleep?

This lighthouse has the most comforting aura I have ever encountered. There is some form of magic inside meant to keep something within peaceful and resting.

That sounds like a trap. Endrance reasoned. Or they had something contained here. But what would they want to keep captured?

I do not know. Gullin replied. I have been under the impression that the Mercanians were a kind of culture who eliminated threats in a more permanent manner. As a secondary question, are you going to ascend or are you remaining down there?

Endrance snapped out of it to realize that he was the only one left of his group on the deck. Glancing up, he had a glimpse of Tanya’s rear end as she clambered over the railing of the tower. A second later Joven’s face popped back into sight, giving him a reproaching look.

“Hurry up!” Joven offered.

Grimacing, Endrance grabbed the rope and started hauling himself up. He was heavier than ever with his armor’s weight, but at least this time he could trickle some of his power into his meridians and activate his strengthening spells on his arms. He was still a clumsy climber, but he wasn’t going to just drop off the rope from having arms the diameter of noodles.

As he ascended, he realized that he didn’t need to trickle much power at all to give him the edge he needed to climb. Either using power through the nexus meridians was more efficient than using his aura, or all that exercise really was paying off. Probably a combination of both.

Reaching the top, it took him some time to adjust to the odd angle. The group was straddling the angle between the silver railing and gray stone floor that encircled the lantern room as a broad walkway. Once atop it, Endrance realized this structure was at least twice the size of anything humans had built. The floor was formed of one piece of stone as well, which seemed to have lent to its resilience. The side of the lantern room had a door formed of twisted silver framing crystal sheets that gave it an almost vine-like artistic beauty. It was open, the panel of the door hanging as far as it would go with gravity, requireing anyone climbing up to duck around it before using it like a ladder to get into the cupola.

“Sorry, was consulting with Gullin.” Endrance stated between huffs as he caught his breath. “Did anyone look inside yet?”

Looking around, he realized that Bridget was nowhere to be seen. Tanya was ascending the side to get through the door, and only Joven and Selene were waiting for him.

“Ah. I see.” he replied. “Let’s go then.”

Climbing into the cupola wasn’t difficult, and they soon found themselves within the structure. It had not been open for long; there were barely any accumulation of sand or water from the weather outside, and the inside still smelled musty and slightly stale.

Whatever device that was supposed to be the lighthouse source had long since disappeared. A simple basin in the center of the lantern room looked long since dry and in fact, cracked. Broken but still partially legible runes and arcane script encircled the inside of the basin, which told Endrance it had been a magically generated light. It had to have been intense, since there were no extra mirrors in the chamber, unless they had all disintegrated during the eight-hundred years since the Shattering.

A hatch in the floor of the lantern room descended deeper into the lighthouse, and Endrance could hear the sounds of footsteps echoing down. Clambering into the angled egress, He looked down to see that the interior of the tower was for the most part hollow. A metal ladder descended the entire way to what Endrance assumed was the ground floor. At the very bottom Bridget stood, balanced with one foot on the last rung of the ladder and the other braced against the stone floor. The only sources of light in the area were the torches that Bridget and Selene carried. Shadows flickered and danced around them as everyone else entered deeper into the structure.

As he descended, Endrance could tell he had crossed the line into the Shatter only by the smell of ozone that tickled his nose. Otherwise his armor had shielded his senses from the chaotic flow of power that enveloped the region. It seemed that no one else felt any peculiar side-effects either; they descended without a complaint.

“Everyone okay down there?” Valzoa’s voice called from above. The elf looked down at them from the hatch. “I’m here if you need backup. Just call for me!”

Gullin, remain there and aid Valzoa if something from the other side attacks.

Understood.

At the bottom was a set of doors that looked like they led into whatever structure was part of the base of the lighthouse. Looking at his companions, he nodded to them. Joven reached out and grasped the handle of the door and pulled. Age or weather had weakened the wooden structure, and the door handle ripped out with a tearing sound. Joven looked down at the handle, shrugged, and tossed it over his shoulder before shoving at the door with his open palm. The entire set of doors collapsed under the weight and their advanced age, falling into the space beyond with barely any sound at all.

Bridget took this opportunity to leap into the doorway, torch in one hand and her curved chopping blade in the other. Her torch illuminated the open air above her as she realized her mistake. No sooner had she crossed the threshold than her voice exploded through the silence.

“Oh shit!” She shrieked. A quiet thud was heard the next moment as both Joven and Endrance lunged through the doorway to catch her and missed.

What they discovered was that the floor continued on only about four more feet beyond the doorway, and that was where the structure had split from the lighthouse. Something large underneath the lighthouse had surged up, causing it to split from the rest of the structure and tilt over the base, crushing the roof and collapsing most of the ground floor, which was all that was keeping it from falling the rest of the way down. Bridget had slid through the doorway, into open space, and skipped the ground floor and went straight into some kind of sub-level. Endrance could barely make out that Bridget was laying on the ground curled up in a ball and swearing loudly.

“You know, in retrospect, I should have expected this.” Endrance admitted, climbing cautiously through the doorway. Leaning out to where he had a good look down at his fallen Draugnoa, he called out to her.

“Bridget! How bad is it?” Endrance called, gauging the distance. It was at least a ten yard drop, and the rubble of the collapsed building made for an irregular passageway.

Grimacing, Bridget looked around her landing site. “Nothing immediately ate me, so I think it’s okay. Jump down!”

Chuckling to himself, the mage turned to his companions. “Okay so do we have any more rope?”

Joven finished tying off a length of rope and tossed it past the mage as he spoke. “Yup.” he stated.

Selene descended first, and then Endrance while Joven and Tanya covered him from above. As Endrance slid down the rope, he made sure to get a good look at his surroundings. Something out of the corner of his eye caused him to halt his descent.

He had thought from where he stood at the doorway that the tower had fallen against the building and was resting against the crumbling remains of the structure at the base of the lighthouse. Now, hanging in midair around the ground level, he realized that he was actually wrong. While some of the building had indeed been crushed by the lighthouse falling, it was not being kept from falling further by the building.

Two large creatures were poised inside the first floor of the building. Perfectly identical, they had four spindly steel legs with golden orbs for joints, mimicked by four identical arms topped with sharp, three fingered hands. Their limbs were set evenly around a thin octagonal torso made of metal scales. Instead of a head, a half-sphere was set where a person’s neck would be, each with four small runes etched in the metal in a neat row.

Endrance hung on the rope for a moment, staring at one of them. It was easily fifteen feet tall from the bottom of its feet to the top of its domed head. And only two of them were holding what must be fifteen thousand tons of stone from falling.

Though, from what he could tell, they were dead. Neither of them moved from their position, nor were they breathing. If he hadn’t known about the Shattering, he would have thought that their place against the tower was just part of some kind of bizarre architecture. Given their bodies were practically symmetrical from two different points of perspective, Endrance wondered if they were perhaps some kind of magical construction.

“What’s the hold up?” Joven called down to him. Looking up, he saw that the big man was getting impatient.

“Just found out what's holding up the lighthouse!” he called up. “It’s okay, I think they’re—”

As he shouted, the dome head of the creatures rotated to look at him, the four runes glaring red like baleful eyes. Crimson light spilled across him, and even through the protective power of his armor, it made the spellscribing vibrate in his skin.

“ —not… dead.” he finished, his voice trailing off. Tanya peeked over the edge, and noticed the red light spilling across the mage.

“Well that’s not good.” she commented. “Do we fight?”

Endrance remained still, his gaze switching between the two most certainly alert creatures as the rope slowly spun him around in a circle. The two metal beings regarded him for several seconds before something shuddered in the lighthouse and their heads swiveled up to pay attention to the building. The one Endrance was looking at glanced back at him for a split second.

“Dn-tds-trbt-hrm-nnts. Rbr-thsp-llhs-ntb-ncmp-ltd.” The thing spoke in a scratchy, garbled voice. As it spoke, the strange vibration rattling the spells etched in his flesh faded.

Endrance nodded, not knowing what it said but getting the general idea. “Okay we can keep going, just don’t touch anything if you can avoid it.” he exclaimed, loosening his grip on the rope and shooting down the line. It wasn’t because the two titans terrified him. Certainly not that.

Selene, kneeling next to Bridget, looked up at Endrance as he landed. “What was it?” she asked, concerned.

“You didn’t see them?” Endrance replied.

She shook her head. “I was so focused on getting to Bridget I didn’t even look around.”

Grunting Bridget moved to get up, but was held down by Selene. “Went by too quick to see anything.” she admitted, looking frustrated.

Joven and Tanya joined him down below quickly. When Endrance met their eyes, he could see that they had indeed seen what he had.

“We should be more careful.” Joven said. “There might be more of those ahead.”

“But why were they holding up the lighthouse?” Tanya asked, looking back up the hole. “Is there something I missed?”

Doing some calculations in his head, Endrance looked around the room they were in. It was a large worked-stone chamber, reinforced with columns. There was almost no debris in this room from the hole in the ceiling, enough so that he was suspicious. Looking at the ceiling, he noted that damage seemed spread across the ceiling that looked remarkably similar to the claws of the two metal titans above. Had they burst up into the floor above to catch the lighthouse before it crushed them?

There were three sets of double doors, but two of them had collapsed in with rock and debris from the Shattering. The remaining double door was made of two solid plates of treated steel, and if they were the same as the ones that had been broken down, were three inches thick.

“I’m getting the feeling the reason is simple.” he muttered, kneeling to check Bridget’s injuries. A major sprain, and a few fractured foot bones. “They’re guardians of what lies beneath the lighthouse.” he said, casting a brief healing spell shortly afterwards.

“But why are they still holding it up?” Bridget asked, rubbing her now perfectly healthy ankle. “If this all happened as long ago as you say, shouldn’t they have had time to get out of the way?”

“It’s because they’re still doing their jobs.” Endrance stood as he spoke, turning to the only remaining door. “They’re protecting something that can’t be moved.”

Joven nodded, helping Bridget stand. Selene moved to the door to check it, finding nothing immediately out of the ordinary, she looked back at the group. Tanya nocked an arrow, ready to pull and release if something came through the portal at them when Selene opened it. Unable to use her chain dagger in close quarters, the Draugnoa flexed the fingers of her left hand once before flicking the fingertips and shifting them into long red talons.

Yanking on the door handle, her body trembled as she had to put serious effort into shifting the door. It opened slowly, the metal grinding on stone in ways that told Endrance that while the area beyond hadn’t collapsed, it had certainly shifted and settled in the last eight-hundred years. Grimacing with effort, Selene hauled the door until it was open wide enough to let Tanya get a good look through it.

“Clear.” the archer said, relaxing her pull on her bowstring.

Joven and Bridget moved forward, pulling the doors the rest of the way open with only marginally less effort. Endrance watched the group work together, glad to see that he didn’t really need to provide much direction. They were all seasoned fighters, and had been working with him for years. Tanya provided ranged cover, Selene could handle mid-range threats and intercept pretty much anything with her demonic speed and mobility, and Endrance did not envy anyone who got close to Bridget in a fight.

As Endrance followed them into the hallway beyond the doors, he realized that the steel doors were bent from where they had been pulling. He could clearly see finger-like imprints from Joven’s hands, a reminder how the already seasoned veteran had gotten even more unstoppable as of late. Still, a nagging fear in the back of his mind warned him that even Joven wouldn’t be able to fight something capable of carrying over a thousand tons of stone for over eight-hundred years without tiring.

The hallway was the same smooth worked stone, supported by crumbling pillars every ten feet along the sides of the hall. There had once been a fine red carpet, but all that remained were faded threads and mouldering tassels. There was also once some form of lighting intended for the building, but constant irregular waves of chaotic magical power had long since destroyed any magical lighting system that had been in place. Instead, Endrance lit a torch, since he was the only one with hands free to do so. It felt weird using a torch after relying on magic for such a long time.

There was a single steel door on their left side, and another set of double doors twenty yards down at the end of the hallway. As they came up to the single door, Endrance watched them as they followed a similar open-and-clear process. Again they struggled to get the door open. A noxious smell drifted out of the room, evoking a gag from the mage. Selene stepped in, ready for whatever lay beyond.

“Clear. Small room. There was something in here.” Selene called from within the room with a groan. “It’s been dead for a long time.”

Joven looked through the doorway. “It looks like three humans.” he said. “Trapped in the room when the lighthouse fell, I think. Might be a sitting room.”

“If they’re human,” Endrance reasoned. “Their masters must have kept them here while they went further below.”

“No signs of struggle,” Selene called out, sounding like she was having trouble keeping her dinner down. “No signs they tried to escape, either. There’s no scratches on the walls or door.”

Tanya spoke up after quietly watching the scene. “Do they have those metal things in their backs?” she asked. “They could have been commanded to stay there.”

Joven leaned further into the room. Endrance moved to provide better light, and caught a glimpse of a sickened Selene crouched next to a wet and meaty pile of bones and rotting cloth. He covered his mouth with his free hand and looked away.

“Yeah. I see iron spikes amid the meat.” Joven stated. “How did you know?”

Tanya shared a look with Endrance and shrugged. “I didn’t,” she replied. “But it sounds like something those bastards would have done, doesn’t it?”

“Shouldn’t they be skeletons or something by now?” Selene murmured, rushing back into the hallway, covering her mouth with a sleeve.

Joven shook his head. “I’ve seen this before in some of our mines. A miner gets trapped in a small chamber like that without any airflow or way for predators to get at them. They rot, but really slowly. Found a guy who had been dead for years once, but looked like he had died last week.” the big man sniffed. “But still, something changed recently.”

The mage nodded. “Someone had opened the door before us.” he observed. “Let new, humid seawater air in.”

Joven grumbled. “Yeah.” he replied. “Looks like they had something on their bodies that was disturbed recently. Do you want to take a look?”

His nearly perfect memory flashed of the putrid mess he had seen. Endrance shook his head. “If it becomes important to later, I will, but if there’s nothing left in the room then we should move on.”

Joven took the time to shove the door closed, much to everyone else's thanks.

Chapter Twenty Two

Moving to the double doors, Endrance held up his free hand. “Wait.” he commanded. “Let me look first.” Selene nodded and stepped away from the door. Endrance looked the door over, moving the torch up and down to highlight various parts of it as he examined the metal. He noted that the stone around the door was gritty, so he knelt down and wiped at it with his gloved hand. A semicircular scrape traced the path that opening doors would make.

“It’s been opened recently.” he muttered. “Probably the last couple of months.”

Taking a step back, he gestured to the doors. “Okay, open it.” he stated.

“What about–” Selene started to ask, but stopped as Bridget pushed past her and grabbed the door handle.

“He’s certain that no one’s been here in months. Let’s stop wasting time and get going.” Bridget grunted, yanking the door open a few inches.

Before anyone could move to help her, a pair of masculine red hands grasped the door’s edge from the other side, black nails clicking against the steel.

“Oh, please allow me to assist you.” a surprisingly melodious voice came from the other side of the door. Bridget backpedaled away, somehow managing to shoot Endrance a betrayed glare.

With seeming ease, the hands swung the doors open with a loud crunch. Standing beyond them, framed perfectly by the metal doorframe and the light of Endrance’s torch, was a demon.

Vaguely human in shape and shorter than Joven, the creature was masculine and very muscular. Crimson skinned, the naked demon had black furred legs that ended in almost delicate cloven hooves, an impressive bare torso, and a black cloak that covered his shoulders and back. He wore a large goat’s skull as a mask over his head, with burning red flames dancing in the eye sockets. Other than the beautifully curved horns, he carried no weapons.

“Ah. Good evening.” the demon said, his deceptively smooth voice twinkling out from behind the skull mask. “I was not expecting company at this venture, but I am delighted to have it regardless.”

It tilted its head, surveying his new arrivals. “I see you have brought your servants with you.” The demon stated, fixing its burning eye sockets on Endrance. “I would normally insist on having them remain behind in the waiting chambers, but I fear that it is no longer, how do you say — habitable?”

It froze for a breath as it regarded Endrance, then crossed the several-yard distance between them in a split second, fast enough to panic the rest of the group. The demon loomed over him, the fire in his eyes flaring brighter for a second.

“My my… what an interesting thing.” it observed. “Could you possibly be a half-breed?” it asked.

Tanya shot the demon. The arrow crossed the distance, aim dead on for the demon’s heart. The demon caught the arrow between his thumb and forefinger, the point just barely dimpling the skin of his pecs but not piercing.

“Ah!” it exclaimed, fading back to its prior position in an instant. “It appears that I have forgotten my manners.”

It waited, quietly, as Endrance’s group collected themselves. Almost gingerly, the demon lifted the arrow to its mouth, and then started eating it in delicate bites.

“What. The. Hell.” Bridget whispered to Endrance once she was up close.

“Demon. Powerful one.” Endrance said. “But it… he’s willing to talk, so just follow my lead.”

“But–” she started to object.

“Just do it!” Endrance snapped. He did not think they had the time to explain just how dangerous some of the more powerful demons were. Even the relatively low rank succubus he had encountered early on in his career, starved as she was, would have been a problem to deal with. This demon was in a league way above that one.

“Hello.” Endrance said after taking a moment to clear the fear and surprise from his face. “I am Endrance. Given the amount of damage this place has suffered, I was not expecting anyone to remain.”

The demon swallowed the last of the arrow and regarded him. “I understand, sir.” he replied. “I have to say that the situation looks bleak, but it is managed until such time as repairs can be affected. And I do not take offense to your overzealous servant. I did close distance rather abruptly.”

Endrance nodded, moving forward. It seemed that the creature was regarding him as a person of the Mercanian nation, which gave the mage clues he needed to move forward.

“I am, in fact, half-Mercanian.” he stated, not offering anything more than the simplest of answers.

“Ah, I see.” the demon replied, it looked him up and down. “What is this world coming to?”

“Pardon?” Endrance asked.

“Oh, I do not mean to insult.” the demon replied quickly, holding up a taloned hand to placate him. “I understand you are doing your duty to the best of your ability, and I must congratulate you for developing a quintessence that would rival even the eldest of their kind. I was merely saying how things must be going poorly for the Mercanians to start using a half-breed to serve official functions.”

Endrance shrugged. “There’s been a bit of a, well, calamity up there.” he replied, “Not many… purists left.”

The demon remained motionless for several seconds before turning. “Well I suppose you will want a status update?” he said, walking away. “You may bring your human servants with you, seeing as there are no suitable places to store them at the moment.”

Endrance followed, his companions trailing behind him cautiously. The section beyond was darker, the stone a deeper shade of gray than the lighthouse outside. They walked for a couple minutes, traveling deeper into the underground area of the Shatter. They were led through a second set of double doors, thankfully already open.

The room beyond was expansive, though still only a few yards high, but the floor sloped slightly downwards giving the center of the circular chamber more room. At the center was a steel and gold dais fifteen yards in diameter and two feet tall.

“Since this is your first time here, allow me to introduce myself.” the demon stated, coming to a stop next to the dais and turning to face him. “My name is Albegraniel, and I am the bound steward of this contingency vault.”

The demon swept an arm and bowed deeply to him. “Salutations.”

Endrance bowed a little in response. “Salutations.” he replied. He took that moment to assess everything that Kalenden’s memories had taught him.

“Albegraniel…” Endrance stated, putting enough of his will into the proper inflection of the name that the demon would feel the tug on its spiritual essence and take notice. “I’ve read about you.”

The flames in the skull’s eye sockets dimmed for a second, as if they had run low on fuel, before flaring back up again. “Even more interesting!” the demon exclaimed, sounding pleased. “I had not expected them to send someone who actually knew what they were dealing with.”

“I’ve dabbled.” Endrance replied nonchalantly. He had noticed that, like Gullin, that Albegraniel did not use contractions, and wondered if that was a trait shared by all interplanar beings.

The demon spoke to him in an almost parental fashion. “As you should, sir.” It said approvingly. “Perhaps one day you will be skilled enough to summon me from this place! I would find that quite pleasing.”

Looking away from Endrance, Albegraniel turned to the dais and swept a hand over it.

“I trust you know the basics,” the demon assumed. “So allow me to move to the important parts. While the change in local Quintessence fields has caused major instability in the region, the vault itself was capable of resisting the effects to some degree. Of the five hundred original stock, we are proud to have succeeded in maintaining one hundred and seventy four viable subjects.”

“Hmm.” Endrance responded, approaching the dais and stopping near the demon.

“At the current rate of erosion, the vault’s stock will completely fail in another two-hundred and five years.” the demon continued. “I regretfully have not the means to send for repairs myself, or I would have done so a few hundred years ago.”

“You did relay this to your prior visitor, correct?” Endrance asked.

“No.” the demon replied. “He was identified to be Malchior, and is still a criminal of the Mercanian Empire.” the demon sniffed. “I was forced to repel him, though it did cost me my wardrobe.”

That confirmed both that his father had been here, and that the demon was more than capable of handling his group at the current moment. Though it seemed that his current naked state was because of Malchoir.

Nodding to the demon. “How are you handling the disruptions?” he asked. “I would not want to see such a capable administrator damaged.”

The demon touched his own chest with a hand. “Concern? For me?” it murmured. “I am flattered. I will admit the Quintessence fluctuations were harmful at first, but I was able to protect myself against them after a few decades.” It’s shoulders slumped. “The damage was not enough to break my binding, however. Oh how I would have loved to go on a rampage again.”

Endrance was rapidly growing uncomfortable. “Ah I see.” he interrupted.

The information the demon gave was definitely helpful. There was something in this vault his father wanted, but couldn’t have. Maybe it was something that Endrance could get ahold of? He double-checked his thoughts, just to be sure he wasn’t being influenced by an internal force. He was certain that, even as powerful as he was, that the demon couldn’t influence him through his defenses.

“I would like to review the stock.” Endrance stated, looking over the dais and doing his utmost to look like he knew what he was doing. “I might be able to perform some minor repairs, as well.”

The demon rotated just his head to regard him, turning at an unnatural angle with a sound akin to cracking bones. “It is out of protocol.” Albegraniel stated.

“Ah.” Endrance replied. “Can you describe to me in detail the nature of the problem with the vault then?” he asked, “Including the point of failure in spellwork and a catalog of physical harm that had befallen it? I will need to relay the depth of the damages to my… superiors, in order to get them to take it seriously.”

The demon paced away from him several steps, his crimson hand touching the skull’s chin as if deep in thought. Albegraniel paced back and forth for several seconds, muttering to himself out of his conflicted desires. While he did so, Joven gestured and gathered the rest of the group together to support Endrance if anything went wrong.

“I should not.” Albegraniel spouted. “Letting you into the vault will violate one of my orders. But, if I do not, I will eventually fail to protect the stock.”

“Surely,” Endrance stated, mentally checking before he continued. “With such a complex task, the terms of your binding entailed some order of priority when it came to situations like these?”

The demon snapped his fingers, realization dawning. “Ah, yes!” he exclaimed. “There is!”

Turning to the mage, Albegraniel approached. “I can allow you to view the vault. However…” the demon turned his skull to face his companions. “I can allow only you to enter.”

“Only me?” Endrance confirmed. “That is acceptable.”

The demon nodded. “Good.” he turned back to the mage. “Now, you just need to give me the command word and we can proceed.”

A flicker of concern slipped through the mage’s face. “Command word?” Endrance stated.

The demon hesitated. “You… do know the command word, do you not?” it asked.

He felt fear, just a little, start to creep its way up his spine. Mentally, he quickly reviewed what he knew. The art of demonic binding was a cagey subject, even when being passed on from master to apprentice. Endrance knew nothing of command words, even with Kalenden’s expansive understanding, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. His tutors, themselves demons, would likely omit things. That much had been certain when they had left out teaching him about soul-affecting magic.

Maybe he was overthinking it? Endrance also had to consider he knew nothing about the Mercanian Empire or how they worked. And then he had to figure out if they were able to pass on a command word. If it would matter to a demonic binding, it would have to be like a word of power. It could take months or years to speak a word perfectly, but Mercanians taught through passing on their knowledge perfectly through their ability to absorb the aura and patterns of their predecessor.

“What is the delay, Endrance?” the demon asked. Glancing back at his party, he noticed Selene was watching the exchange with a curious look on her face. Something wasn’t sitting right with her, and he could see it. Endrance suddenly had a realization. Endrance didn’t have much option, but he had some reason to reinforce his next move.

The wizard narrowed his eyes at the demon. “There is no command word. Albegraniel.” he said, putting every effort into sounding certain. “Trying to deceive me?”

With suspicious quickness, the demon turned away from him and touched the chin of his skull. “Oh my! I apologize.” he protested. “I was caught.” the demon looked back at him, the fire in his eye sockets flaring. “How... naughty of me.”

Endrance felt a rush of relief. “I’ve been exposed to naughty demons before.” he said, chuckling. Selene glared at him, blushing angrily.

“Endrance!” she blurted, her eyes flashing red, the corkscrew strands of her hair starting to rise as she honed her anger on him.

Albegraniel chuckled. “I was not going to say anything about her nature; it would be discourteous of a demon to give away when another was present in case they were working undercover. But it seems that instead she is working under the covers, so to speak.”

The demon looked Selene up and down. “You are a man of good tastes, I see.” he observed. The half-demon Draugnoa glared angrily at the demon, but didn’t say anything in response.

Endrance shook his head. “The vault.” he said, reminding the demon.

“Ah yes.” Albegraniel replied quickly. He stepped onto the platform, walking to the center. “This way, please.”

Endrance turned to his allies. “Stay here. Don’t move, don’t say anything, and do not follow me.” he instructed. “Understand?”

Joven nodded, his expression grim. Endrance knew the man would follow his word, but would not think twice about rushing after him if he felt that was what he needed to do.

“I mean it.” Endrance said. “Give me one hour.”

Joining the demon on the platform, Endrance was able to notice a complicated interweaving of arcane script and geometric lines covering every inch of the polished metal surface. Though shallowly etched, the lines were likely nearly impossible to remove by normal, non-magical means. Standing at the center, Endrance looked to the demon.

“Ready.” he said, wondering if his armor would be enough to protect him if the demon had in fact been lying and was simply trying to separate him from his allies to kill him.

Albegraniel merely turned his skull to look at the mage, unperturbed. With a faint rustling sound, the world outside of the circle flickered as a curtain of black flames rose up from the edges of the circle in an audible whoosh of burning air. As they licked at the stone ceiling, the metal circle descended. Endrance felt his stomach lurch, but his balance wasn’t even slightly tested by the sudden transition thanks to the myriad spells he had worked into his armor.

When the circle finally stopped, the flames receded up instead of down, and filled the hole in the ceiling of their chamber. At a hundred feet above him, Endrance could not hear the crackle of the magic fire. Endrance had none of his senses he’d need to fully understand the magic being used because of the dampening effect of his armor, but he was willing to bet on some of the basic cues that he had picked up.

“That’s quite impressive.” Endrance stated, whistling slightly. “Dimensional magic, but shaped as a flame?”

The demon let out a long drawn out exhalation. “You are, astoundingly, close with your guess. Not wholly accurate, but enough so to convey the concept.”

“The flames ‘burn up’ anything by transporting granular portions of its victim into the space between our realm of existence and yours.” Endrance added, unsure if he was going to antagonize the demon by not being knowledgeable enough to fulfill the role he was pretending to be. “In a steady rate similar to that of fire burning wood into ash”

“There is nothing left behind, you understand.” Albegraniel stated, nodding in agreement. “I am pleased to see that you have been well trained.”

“I do what I can.” Endrance replied, looking around the chamber. “Oh… that’s...”

“I know.” The demon answered as the mage’s voice trailed off upon seeing the contents of the vault. “Quite impressive, is it not?”

The massive chamber was dimly lit, the only sources of light provided by the glow of magic radiating from the effects of hundreds of spell circles arranged around the platform in equidistant, concentric circles. Endrance could not see the walls of the vault from where he stood, as the lights didn’t reach far enough. He would need to use his goblin’s darkvision to see further and he didn’t want to give away any more of his tricks than he needed to.

Each circle he could see was barely five feet across, carved into the dark gray stone and inlaid in platinum, carved with arcane script inlaid with gold, and set with diamonds at junctures. They each projected a sheet of light along the outer edges of the circle constantly, not just when something was trying to cross the threshold of the spell.

The closest one to him contained a hovering humanoid shape, slightly obscured by the sheen of magical light. Endrance approached to the end of the platform, stopping at the edge as he peered at it. He could make out a naked female body with fair skin and short wavy brown hair, but something seemed off about her. The skin seemed just a little too perfect, so fair and clean he could practically see the woman’s meridians through it.

His eyes widened. The realization that it was no trick of the light went cleaving through his mind like a chop from Bridget’s sword. He could see her meridians because that woman was Mercanian. She had no spells carved into her body, so she looked almost human. His mind raced as he started putting things together, panic threading into his thoughts. This was what his father wanted!

He heard the demon moving, and quickly brought his expression back under control as the demon leaned over to view his face. What it was looking for, he wasn’t sure, but Endrance couldn’t afford to give it all away.

“It is safe to step off of the platform.” Albegranial said assuringly. “This is the safest place in the continent, next to one of the other vaults.”

Endrance hopped off the platform, more to move away from the demon’s inquisitive gaze than to explore the chamber. It appeared that the circles closest to the platform were the most stable, while he could see flickering and even dark spots the further out he looked.

“Of the one-hundred and seventy four subjects you have left,” Endrance began, walking around the circle he had approached and moving down to the next ring of spells. “Which one is closest to failing next?”

The demon spread his black-nailed hands. “That, I am unsure of.” he stated. “My humblest apologies. Let me do a quick check of the stock, and get back to you.”

The demon’s cloak opened, flaring out into a pair of webbed wings easily thirty feet from tip to tip. With a single wingbeat, Albegraniel launched himself into the air, twisting to avoid the ceiling and swooping off into the darkness beyond the rings of circles.

This gave Endrance time to collect his thoughts and put together everything he could think of in his head to piece the puzzle together. Malchoir was a criminal, but the last of his race. He was trying to make it to the capital of the Mercanian empire, and until now Endrance had no clues why. Where did these Mercanian bodies come into it?

Endrance peered closer at one of the bodies. He noted that the hair of this man didn’t waver or move, but instead hung in the air as if suspended in water. Or… time. These people were alive, but kept frozen in time so they would be safe. If they were frozen in time they would not have to eat, sleep, or age and were basically immune to the ravages of disaster and the ages. Was this some kind of magical safe house?

All too soon, the demon returned. It landed next to Endrance with a whumph of displaced air and a clack of hooves upon stone.

“I have grave news.” the demon said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “While I was above, tending to you, one of the spells has since begun to fail.”

Endrance narrowed his brows. “That’s bad news, but also good for me.” he said. “This means that I can observe as it happens and I might learn something from it.”

“I will have to take you there, if you are to make it in time.” Albegraniel stated.

“Let us go, then.” Endrance said. Before he could really make sense of it, the demon’s grip on his shoulder hardened, and he was spun into its arms. With a whip-crack of demonic wings, Endrance was bodily flung into the air while held tightly in Albegraniel’s arms. The heat radiating off the demon was intense, but the armor was more than capable of handling it even if Endrance wasn’t normally immune to fire due to his bond with his familiar.

Just as jarringly as he was plucked up, he was set back down on the ground. Shaking his head, he looked around and saw he was out far away from the well-lit section of the vault. In the distance to one side he could see the brighter section where most if not all of the circles were still intact. His nose crinkled as a faint yet foul odor assaulted his nose.

Turning away from the demon, he saw the rings in this section were entirely burned out, the beauty of gold and platinum and diamonds covered in dust and even a little gore. Several places where he would have expected a spell circle were instead covered in dried and mummified corpses. Dozens of the dead surrounded him, each left on the ground where they fell when the spells failed. The faint smell was of light rot and long-dried fecal matter.

“These dead.” Endrance stated, looking around. “How do they die?”

“Most of them starve.” the demon replied. “Though I have noted a few suffered brain damage from striking stone. One died from landing on their face and suffocating.”

Endrance was reminded again just how alien the demon was. He would not do anything beyond what he was ordered to, and likely took satisfaction watching these people die. But the fact he did nothing to save them beyond this point told him much about his orders. Still, leaving bodies to lie there until they starved meant that they were alive, but not aware or awake.

“So you are not contracted to do anything with them after their spell fails.” Endrance stated, spotting one circle that was still intact and gingerly stepping over bodies to get there.

“Correct.” Albegraniel replied, stepping on or kicking bodies in his way as he followed the mage.

“You aren’t a carnivore, it seems.” Endrance commented.

“Strictly speaking, I only eat for the pleasure of it.” the demon replied, sounding mildly insulted. “But I was given an order to not eat the subjects and it was worded carefully enough that I could not find a loophole.”

“Shame.” Endrance said, hiding his disgust with banter.

“I appreciate your concern, but I have gotten to enjoy watching them die.” Albegraniel stated happily. “I would spend days squatting next to one where it fell, just watching it as it slowly ran out of strength and expired. So satisfying.”

Endrance made it to the circle to see the magic wall surrounding it flicker and darken slightly.

“I kept hoping one of them would open their eyes and get up.” Albegraniel continued. “Then I would be free to leave, but alas, none so far have.”

Endrance shrugged, examining the circle. He noticed the subject inside was female, with long blond hair and a lean body. She looked remarkably familiar, but Endrance couldn’t place her.

He took a risk, and lifted his helmet from his head. A rush of magical noise rushed his senses, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the rest of the Shatter. Breathing through his mouth, he focused the rest of his magical senses on the circle, letting the demon’s words fade into background noise.

The spell circle was remarkably efficient, with several spell patterns made to recycle every bit of power that was unused back into the circle in a loop. Each circle was also inlaid with the purest gold and platinum physically possible, and the diamonds were cut perfectly. The amount of work required to do one of these circles was astounding, and somehow the Mercanians had managed to mass-produce them.

It also appeared that the circles drew power from the environment around it, but the Shattering had thrown some variables into the spell that the designer hadn’t accounted for. Every ten-thousand ‘draws’ of power or so, there would be a stutter. Most of the time the redundant spellwork he was seeing would be able to compensate, but sometimes they failed to catch it, and the next cycle of power would be a little too rough for the spells to handle, which only destabilized it more. Endrance also noted that there were micro-fractures in the stone, likely caused by the earth-shattering quakes outside that had created the Shatter in the first place.

“This one will fade soon.” Endrance said, standing. Looking at the demon, he shrugged. “I do not have the tools or the mastery to make repairs on my own, but I think I have isolated the problem.”

Albegraniel nodded. “How long do you think this one will last?” it asked.

Endrance looked at the circle, “Another thirty-five seconds.” he said, rolling his helmet in his hands.

“I mean before she starves.” the demon clarified. “It is not like they have the presence of mind to draw power in to feed themselves.”

Endrance looked at the girl, his mind counting down the seconds as he tried to remember where he had seen someone like that before. The glow around the circle flickered, fading again. Exactly when Endrance predicted, the spell failed with a dissatisfied crack sound, the wall of light fading and the subject dropping to her feet. Without a mind to direct it, she wobbled and then her knees gave out, starting her tumbling to the floor.

Endrance didn’t know why he moved, but before he could stop himself, he stepped forward and caught the woman, dropping his helmet in the process. The demon exclaimed in protest but didn’t physically react to his action. Endrance sank to his knees, cradling the mindless body in his arms. Her blond hair spilled across the crook of his elbow, and her face tilted away from him as her head lolled on her neck. She seemed weightless in his arms.

Endrance stared at her, and realized that hot tears were spilling from his living eye, drops falling upon her unresponsive body. Subtly, a hissing sound escaped around the edges of his truesilver eyepatch. He was too sucked into the feeling of loss engulfing him to notice. Then, suddenly, a powerful memory took him back.

He was back in the throne room of Balator again. The darkness of that room bearing down on him as he then also held a woman in his arms, that one having lost her strength to poisoned daggers. It had been Anna who looked at him that night, said something he couldn’t even remember clearly anymore, and then died in his arms. The ring she had given him had fallen from his neck right after. Did he even know where it was anymore?

The despair, grief, and rage of that night long ago flooded back to him, and for a moment he was just a young man again. A child ravaged by raw emotion and loss. Tears streamed down his face, spattering this woman’s naked body with abandon, though she lacked the mind to recognize it.

His thoughts touched on the imprint of Anna he had captured that night, and he was subjected to memories of her death from her own perspective, and knew then how much love in her heart she had for him, barely a man dropped into a strange world and far in over his head. They had known each other for not even a full year, but she had seen his heart and supported it with words and muscle. She had not feared death; she had only feared leaving him behind.

How long had he been suppressing the pain?

Endrance could not see thin streams of golden light leaking from his body. They drifted through the air and into the mouth of the puzzled demon waiting nearby. Consuming the energy, Albegraniel felt a moment of uncertainty, waving his hands around uselessly before sighing and squatting down. The subject he was escorting was rendered into a sobbing mess by the collapse of an empty body.

Endrance’s tears and sobbing stopped suddenly, the mage wiping the tears from his face with his coat sleeve. He put his feet under him, standing up still carrying the body. He could hear her taking a shallow breath, and feel the pulse of her heart as the side of her chest pressed against his ear as he shifted her to drape across his right shoulder. He found his helmet, squatting and picking it up with his left hand.

“Are you well?” Albegraniel asked, standing. “I would not appreciate you dying before you delivered my request for aid.”

Endrance nodded, pushing his helmet back onto his head. “Old memories,”' he stated. “I apologize. The human half of me has these flaws.”

The demon stared at him for several uncomfortable seconds. “Oh.” it said, somehow managing to become more menacing over just a few seconds. “I see. You, a halfbreed, have captured a soul.”

Endrance paled despite his best efforts. “What?” he asked, surprised. “No I haven’t. I can’t capture souls.” he protested.

“But you can!” Albegraniel exclaimed, taking a step forward, while Endrance took a step back. “We demons have a sense for these things. Without your helmet on, I could feel you were more than just one spirit.”

“But… I can’t.” Endrance stammered. “Those aren’t souls!”

“Well, as far as a Mercanian is concerned, it is.” the demon quickly corrected. “That is what makes them difficult to enjoy, really. Their soul is just the sum total of their life experiences. It is not bolstered by the life force that you half- or full-humans possess. Quite disappointing, really.”

The demon sniffed him, covering the distance between them in an all-too fast motion. “It is understandable, after all.” it stated. “You want to take that empty shell and put that soul into it. I do not blame you — after all, as a half-breed you should not be able to share your soul with a full Mercanian for very long. Being captured by a half breed must have it feeling terribly put out."

The possibility was terrifying, but the thought made him aware of some other possibilities. “Since you’re not allowed to do anything to the bodies if the spell fails, you can’t stop me from taking it, can you?” the mage asked warily. “After all, I did not violate your defenses or break through any wards. I’m just… disposing of a body.”

The demon nodded. “Technically, yes. Though I will tell you that I feel like you are robbing me of what little enjoyment I have in this place.”

“I apologize.” Endrance said. “I will take this body as a sample, and relay your request for aid to my superiors.”

Albegraniel sighed. “Fine. We will do it that way. Though I refuse to carry you and the body back to the platform.

Endrance fed a miniscule trickle of power from his nexus meridians to his strength spell, and his back straightened as the influx of power flooded his muscles with strength. “I am fine with walking.”

Endrance was expecting to get attacked by the demon as he walked out to the spell platform, or for the black flames to rush at him when he stepped onto the platform with one of the vault’s bodies. Neither happened, instead, the demon merely looked up and activated the circle, causing the reverse of the first transition to the upper chamber where his allies remained.

His companions were reasonably confused when they saw him return with a naked woman draped over his shoulder.

“What could have possibly happened in there?” Bridget demanded, not even bothering to try hiding her shock.

“That’s not important right now.” Endrance snapped back, hoping the ‘just play along’ tone in his voice got noticed by his friends and not the demon. “We need to get going. Let’s go.”

To their credit, his companions had been part of Endrance’s harebrained schemes for years, and were able to move on the opportunity. Joven stepped forward, taking the woman gingerly, while Selene produced a thin sheet of cloth from her sack to drape the body with.

They piled out of the room, leaving Endrance and the demon last. Turning to Albegraniel, Endrance nodded. “I’ll take my leave. Good work fighting off Malchoir.”

“Thank you,” the demon replied. “I am pleased to have succeeded in my magically contracted duties.”

“It is appreciated.” Endrance said, a thought causing him to hesitate. “I will also report his appearance here, if you have anything more to add.” he said at last, realizing that it would be the proper thing to do in that situation, if he really were an emissary of the Empire.

Albegraniel nodded, his voice sounding cheerful. “Oh, please relay that he seems to be quite powerful now. More than I recall him being rated when he was imprisoned. I was unable to land a fatal blow, but I do believe that I managed to force him to expend much of his quintessence fighting me, if that is any help.”

Smiling, Endrance nodded. “That may prove useful after all.” he said, turning and leaving the demon behind.

Climbing the rope up to the lighthouse was difficult carrying an unconscious body, but it wasn’t impossible. Reaching the top, they found Gullin and Valzoa perched on the railing, side by side, in almost the same posture as they idly watched the suns set. As the group piled out of the lighthouse tower and into the reflecting chamber, the Fjallar turned his head to look and shook his head in surprise. Valzoa glanced over his shoulder, noting the body being carried.

“What is that?” Valzoa asked, noting the woman wrapped in cloth tied to Joven’s back.

“More importantly,” Tanya interjected, sitting down on the angled glass wall of the inside of the lighthouse. “Are we out of the demon’s hearing range?”

Endrance nodded while Valzoa’s eyes widened at the mention of a demon.

“Good.” she said, taking a breath. She then glared at the mage with anger in her eyes. “What the flaming hell was that!?”

Chapter Twenty Three

It took some convincing to have the group move the conversation to their ship, where Valzoa set the crew sailing away from the demon’s den as fast as possible. Only once they were safely aboard, and the body safely stowed in an empty bunk, would Endrance finally allow himself to be questioned. He tried to relate what happened inside the vault as thoroughly as possible, leaving what happened outside of it to the rest of his allies to explain to Valzoa later. He felt his throat tightening when he started trying to explain the comatose body they had stored below decks.

“It was the damned strongest sensation.” he said, spreading his hands and trying to keep them from trembling. “The woman’s body started to fall and I didn’t even realize I had moved to catch her until I was on my knees and the tears were already flowing.”

He sat on the floor, unwilling to find someplace more comfortable to rest for the moment.

“For the briefest moment, I thought she was Anna.” he murmured,

Tanya exchanged a glance with Selene. “That Anna?”

Selene nodded. “Yeah.” she said, her voice muted. “That Anna.”

“She died protecting him.” Bridget stated, her voice almost booming in the quiet that followed. “He… We never really got over it.”

“That still doesn’t explain why we have a naked woman stuffed in one of our bunks.” Joven replied. “Did the demon give her to you or something?”

“Something.” Endrance replied, trying to put his thoughts together into an order that they would understand. “I told him I was going to take it, and he did not try to stop me.”

“But why?” Joven asked, confused.

The mage took a deep breath before gesturing to the unconscious woman. “She’s Mercanian, Joven.” Endrance stated. “One of hundreds in there. Less now, because of the Shatter, but still quite a lot of them.”

Hands flew to weapons, and Endrance had to hold up a hand to stop them. “It’s okay.” he protested. “She’s not actually there, in the head. From what I can tell, she and the rest that were stored there are… empty. Blank slates, waiting for a Mercanian imprint to be planted on them.”

Joven stared at the female shape in the bunk for several seconds, and Endrance could see the man’s mind calculating through the look in his eyes. “How many did you say there were?” Joven asked.

“That vault was supposed to contain five-hundred, but they were down to a little over a hundred.” Endrance explained. “And from what I can tell, there were at least two more vaults.”

“Two more?”

“During our conversation he mentioned ‘other vaults’. This means that there are at least two more, since he spoke in plural. There could be just two, or there could be fifteen, or a hundred.” Endrance replied.

The big man shook his head. “I don’t like this,” he stated. “Why would they want thousands of blank slates?”

Tapping his chin, Endrance pondered. “I think it has to do with the war they were fighting with your people, Joven.” he said. “Valeria and Rothel had fought against the Mercanians over eight-hundred years ago, and that’s when they supposedly destroyed themselves. Maybe this was a contingency?”

“We weren’t winning.” Joven stated angrily.

“Maybe not by your standards.” Endrance retorted. “But by theirs? They for some reason couldn’t destroy you like they had been able to every other threat they ever encountered. To them, that sounds a lot like they were expecting a retaliation. If anything, it could be that they were getting desperate.”

“So they boxed up a bunch of their kind to save for later?” Bridget demanded, still contemplating going for a dagger.

Shaking his head, Endrance stood on shaking legs. “I think they grew them, and put them in some kind of time lock spell, so that if there was such an event as the Shattering, their… souls… would have a new body to go into. A kind of immortality, if you will.”

“Then why didn’t it work?” Tanya asked, having edged over to the comatose Mercanian body and looking the face over. “Why aren’t they awake?”

Endrance shrugged. “Well, if you’re working with such powerful magic, it’s possible they made it too complicated and something failed along the way. Perhaps they aren’t actually dead, but instead trapped in time like these bodies are. Maybe they didn’t have time to finish setting up the thing that would distribute those souls to their new hosts. It’s even possible that the souls just couldn’t survive such a calamity or endure the distance they had to travel to get to the vaults.”

“Point is, we don’t know.” Joven stated.

The mage walked over to the body and put a hand on one of hers. “Exactly, but I can learn a few things from this one.” he muttered. “I can even test to see if my theory is correct.”

“Wait, you’re not going to put that blood tiger in there, are you?” Bridget asked. “Joven talked about that thing for months.”

The big man was the one to speak first. “No.” he said, staring at Endrance’s head. “He has Anna in there.”

Endrance could practically feel them staring as the three women in the room turned to look at him. He reached up and pulled off his helmet as he turned to face them.

“You already knew she was here.” he said, tapping his temple. “I can give her a second chance. I could… bring her back.” his passions were rising again, and he didn’t particularly care that they were.

“Endrance, think about it!” Selene exclaimed. “What if something goes wrong? Are you really ready to lose her again?”

“I can…” He started to reply, stopping to dry swallow before continuing. “I can copy her imprint down into this body. If something goes wrong she’d still be in my head.”

“The hell you can!” Bridget scoffed. “How much space do you think you have in your head, a city?”

Glaring at her, Endrance replied. “Enough for the life experiences of everyone on this boat twice over!” he snapped.

From another room, several elven voices shouted. “SHIP!”

“Whatever!” Bridget snarled at the walls. “Butt out of it!”

“And that includes the elves!” he continued. “I was born with the brain structure of a Mercanian and trained in every mnemonic technique known to man, all right? Her memories are just as clear to me as my own!”

“Really?” Selene asked, her eyes widening. “Then you remember everything?”

“Anything I think is important in my daily life.” Endrance replied. “It took me time to develop those skills, so there’s small details for inconsequential stuff in my childhood that I won’t recall.”

“Prove it.” Bridget demanded, crossing her arms, with her wooden limb over her fleshy one.

Endrance fixed her with a level gaze. “Again?” he asked.

Selene looked at Bridget, concerned. “Again?” she asked.

Flinching at her error, Bridget held her ground. “Prove it.” she demanded again.

“Do we really need to do this?” Tanya asked. “We’ve seen this man control a swarm of nightmare creatures with his mind while dying of starvation and buried several dozens of yards underground.”

Bridget shook her head. “I need to know.” she said.

“Know what?” Endrance asked.

She continued to glower at him. “I need to know that Anna’s memories will be safe.” she said.

The mage kept his eyes on hers, and could see that she would not back down from this, and would likely do her best to stop him from going on with his plan if she didn’t have faith in his ability. He had thought she was starting to trust him, but it looked like this was something that was more than a little beyond the trust that he had earned with her.

Sighing loudly, he stepped away from the Mercanian body and plopped onto an empty bunk.

“Well, what can I tell you?” he asked. “Anything you want to know.”

“I want to know why he said to prove it again.” Selene piped in, but Tanya took her hand and gave a slight shake of her head.

Shrugging, Endrance glanced at Bridget. “I am sorry I couldn’t let you into my head like I can Selene. Even then it requires a binding circle to make it work.”

Bridget paced back and forth, thinking.

“Breakfast yesterday.” she started. Endrance assumed she was asking about what she ate.

“Dried fruit, bread, water, and sausage.” Endrance replied instantly. “You took Selene’s sausage too.”

“What’s the most I can lift?” She asked next.

“You can lift about thirty stone, but if you lean heavily on your wooden arm, you can do close to forty.” he replied just as quickly. “At least that’s what we could measure using the exercise plates at Leona’s house. You could potentially lift closer to forty-five stone.”

“What was the first thing I said to you when we met?” she demanded, jumping back years.

“And in so doing, I die to my king, giving my life so that the kingdom be served.” Endrance answered instantly. “Though, if you want to be nitpicking, the first thing you really said to me that wasn’t part of a ceremony was ‘It’s not like we have a choice, Endrance. We are all born of the Owl totem. Our sign is rare, and the Owl has, by tradition, only been allowed to marry the Spengur. If we were not to marry you, we could not marry at all for as long as we lived in our lands. I’m no happier about this than you apparently are’.”

Bridget’s face reddened, feeling embarrassment rising.

“You then said you sure as hells–” Endrance continued.

“Enough!” she interrupted. “Tell me something only Anna would know.”

Endrance considered, sifting through memories carefully. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“If you can’t do it…” She replied, leaning against a wall.

“Anna first met you when you were five.” he said quietly, closing his eyes. “You were alone, pissed, and bloodied. You had a black eye, bloody nose and lip, and had broken your hand. Your dress was in shreds. She had been sent by the older Ergkinoa to find you because you had run away. When you were found, you tried to explain you had fought off three boys your age. After that you hadn’t left the compound, and you started training all the time. You told everyone that you loved winning that fight and that’s why you worked so hard to be better. Years later, you told Anna the truth when you found out you had been selected to become a Draugnoa; you had not fought some other children, but instead struggled against an adult man trying to molest you. You barely managed to escape.”

He opened his eyes. “You had always resented me, but not for the reasons that I thought. You had always thought that being forced to be given to the Spengur was the same as being kidnapped by that man so long ago. But then, I was so completely different from that vile person that you didn't know how to react, and so you resented me because I confused you and still represented the thing that traumatized you so long ago.”

Bridget’s face slowly went white, the blood draining from her face. Her eyes glimmered in the lamplight, watering as old memories resurfaced. She hugged herself and turned her face away from his gaze. The companions around the room watched the exchange silently, their faces ranging from surprise to sympathy.

“I never wanted to be that person.” Endrance said. “I didn’t know what I was getting into as a child, and given how manipulated I was growing up, it’s not like I had a chance to do anything different. I’m sorry.”

Taking a deep breath, he waited several seconds.

“You asked for this.” he murmured, his eye downcast. “Is that enough proof for you?” he asked quietly.

Bridget nodded, wiping at her eyes with her normal hand. “Yeah.” she said meekly. “Yeah it is.”

She left the room, the door hanging open as she fled up to the deck. Selene gave Endrance a pained look and followed after her friend.

“Holy shit.” Tanya exclaimed after closing the door. “Did you have to shoot her in the heart like that?”

Endrance looked up at her, a wet trail down the side of his face caused by tears. “She wouldn’t have believed me if I hadn’t.” he replied. “I didn’t want to open old wounds, either, but the truth was necessary.”

“That’s… harsh.” Tanya admitted.

Nodding, Endrance gave a disheartened chuckle. “You wanna know what’s funny?” he asked. “I had more to tell her. That man? Anna… Well, after Bridget told her, it took Anna a few months to find him. He didn’t live long enough to do anything to a young girl again.” Endrance looked over at Tanya and sighed. “The body was left somewhere public, and soon everyone knew what kind of person he had been before his passing.”

Tanya took a steadying breath. “I don’t think Bridget’s going to be okay after the emotional blow you dealt her,” she admitted “But I think you earned our approval. How are you going to transfer Anna into the body?”

Endrance went over to the body and laid a hand on her forehead. “I do not know.” he answered. “At least not yet. Give me a little bit of time to figure it out.”

When left alone, Endrance sighed. “I have to fix something critical first.” he muttered.

Chapter Twenty Four

Endrance appeared inside the library of his mind once again, manifesting at the edge of his silver pool. He had been distracted for more than long enough, and he needed to make progress in his work. Endrance had to put together what to do with the blank body, sure, but he also had to put a conversation on hold.

Reaching down, he touched his fingertips the surface of the water, sending ripples through the circle as he concentrated.

“Valeria.” he stated, drawing her back to the forefront of his mind from the confinement he had shoved her in when her rage had bled out into the real world. The ripples in the water reversed their course, shrinking back to the tips of his fingers. He stood, pulling his hand straight up.

Valeria rose from the water under his fingertips like a marionette on strings, her mental image bound in chains of liquid silver. Restrained, her futile struggles against Endrance’s will caused barely a shift in the chains. Faint pulses of energy, thoughts and memories, flowed through the chains into and out of Valeria.

“Is this any way to treat your mother?” she asked, offended. Her face was as she had been in life, though occasionally a ripple would pass through her, revealing the litch underneath.

Endrance shrugged. “Probably not.” he replied. “I should really have just forgotten you and moved on.”

She sneered. “You know you couldn’t completely forget me,” Valeria replied toxically. “I’ve been a part of you for far too long for that to work.”

“Yeah, that’s part of why I’m keeping you around, actually.” Endrance replied, turning and walking around the perimeter of the pool. Valeria grunted as the chains floated after him, dragging her along. “I wanted to continue our conversation. Maybe I’ll erase you afterwards.”

“About Malchoir,” she supplied, “of course. The bastard betrayed me.”

“Why?” he asked. “Did you outlive your purpose?”

She was silent for a long while. “Sort of.” she replied, her expression mournful. “I loved him, ages ago. Back before he was imprisoned, and I was just a servant of his.”

Endrance stopped at a red velvet-lined armchair and plopped into it. The reflecting pool lay before him, and the Archmagus’ imprint remained over the waters, her liquid silver chains merging with the surface just beneath the water. “I know very little about what happened before the Shattering.” he admitted, gesturing with a hand. While she wasn’t freed from her chains, they did shift position so that she was in a sitting position in front of him. “Tell me about it. What happened back then?”

Valeria’s expression hardened, and she glared at him. He felt her trying to resist, sensed her meager stolen fragments of willpower pit themselves against his. If it were just a conversational omission, he might have been fine with giving her that small victory, but this was important to where he was trying to lead the conversation.

Leaning slightly on his will, Endrance mentally pushed her, wrenching away a sliver of her remaining will. Valeria groaned, but her frown softened into the faintest of smiles.

“Fine.” she gave in. The memories flowed down the chains in response to her will. Beneath her, the silver pool rippled as a visual representation of her memories rolled across it.

“No one but the prior Archmagi and I were alive before the Shattering.” Valeria explained, the pool revealing an older man huddled in a shabby stone building deep in conversation with Valeria. Neither of them looked particularly grand or powerful. “We decided it was best for mankind to keep the origins of… how we got our magic secret.”

“You mean how we learned to use it.” Endrance stated. “But we had to have gotten it from the Mercanians.”

His captive rolled her eyes. “Well that, yes, but I mean more specifically — everything we learned about magic, was what Malchoir gave us.”

A chill slipped down Endrance’s spine. “All of this was because he gave it to you?” he asked, some of his nagging fears coming to the forefront. The water at the edge of the silver pool spread with frost.

Valeria sighed. “I was one of his servants, a slave girl, one of thousands of Malchoir’s personal attendants. We were used as currency, of a sorts. Every drop of a human’s blood was valuable to the Mercanians. Not only were we good for tasks too menial for their tastes, but our worth was measured in the amount of power our sacrifice would give them.”

The pool’s center revealed a young Valeria, at most four years old and standing amongst dozens of other humans in simple linen clothes and bare feet. They were living in a small community surrounded by high walls and arcane monstrosities that were there to keep them in line.

“We were cultivated, bred for our worth. My lineage was kept solely for their sacrificial value, for how much power could be drawn from our blood.” she continued. The image below her reflected Valeria, tears in her eyes as she watched several of her family taken away, never to be seen again. “But Malchoir grew fond of us. He and his predecessors had raised us for generations to be the most… potentially vital of our species.”

“That explains our aptitude for magic.” Endrance replied.

Valeria shook her head. “It’s not just that.” she stated. “There was a debate among their leadership. Malchoir had gotten curious, and wanted to see if we could even perform magic. They objected, and he grew contemptuous of the others. He started testing his theories in secret.”

The image shifted again, revealing a young Valeria around 10 years old, strapped to a stone table carved in arcane glyphs and script that glowed as it channeled arcane power into her. Her screams were unheard through the image, but Endrance could see the pain wracking her body.

“I had almost a dozen brothers and sisters, and by the time Malchoir was done there was only me and my brother Rothel.” Valeria whispered.

“My uncle. The founder of Mount Balator.” Endrance stated. The image changed to a memory of his, of Rothel’s phantom, buried so deep beneath the mountain he had conquered.

“Yes.” the woman answered. “Though that came later. He had developed a remarkable resistance to magic, and I… the opposite. I had survived merely because I was the only one remaining of a long line of experiments, each building off the last. It was terrible, painful, but also exhilarating.” The last statement came with a new scene, of a young adult Valeria crouched behind a low wall, electricity arcing off her skin as she struggled to, and succeeded in, controlling the power she was subjected to. The electricity gathered into the palm of her hand, and with a soundless scream of amazement the power erupted into a ball of lightning that skittered through the air erratically.

“In the end, though, I had come to be personally attached to Malchoir.” she said, her eyes closed. The image showed her as a full adult at this time, dressed in a blue soft cotton robe standing before Malchoir. She was unchained, and he handed her a book written with magical theory. Endrance actually remembered the lessons in that book as the ones he had also learned as an apprentice. Malchoir had penned the original copy.

Valeria continued. “He had secretly elevated me above the rest. Given me power beyond human comprehension at the time, and risked it all. The others of the later lines of experiments also survived, leading to over a dozen prototypical variations of magic-using humans.”

She paused. “They each went on to pioneer many of the standardized schools of magic you have seen so far. Even summoning.”

Endrance saw a number of different individuals, each human, working some form of magic or another. Most of them did with great pain, but a few — like Valeria — could handle their new abilities safely.

“When the rest of the Mercanian leadership found out about it, they were outraged.” Valeria continued. “They tried to bring him to face their leaders — the ‘Circle of Kings’ — but Malchoir resisted. Some other Mercanians died, and Malchoir was the only one there to inherit them.”

“So?” Endrance asked.

Valeria didn’t scoff at him for not knowing, if anything she seemed patient with him. “It’s hard to understand, but Mercanians don’t ‘die’ like we do. Their profiles… their ‘imprints’ as you put it, are effectively eternal. They’re absorbed by the nearest member of their kind, something you’ve experienced with me and the others you have knocking around in here.” She gave him an incredulous look. “Seriously, a tiger?”

Endrance glanced to the side, where there was now a lounging blood tiger, who looked at the two of them, yawned, and resumed its rest.

“Hey, I never had much choice in who I absorbed.” Endrance said, letting the blood tiger’s imprint fade. “It’s not like I could turn it off.”

“True.” Valeria replied. “Though your ability to absorb entities that were neither human or Mercanian has thrown my plans for a loop on more than one occasion. Speaking of failed plans. I don’t see the Dark Elf here. Did you find her corpse with the bracer I let her steal?”

Endrance shook his head. The image changed to that night underground when Jalyin had met him again. “No. I cured the curse you put on her. I mean, she went through excruciating pain the whole time, but I was able to fix it and she’s fine now. Well, she’s kinda pissed I killed you without her, but that’s just the spite talking.”

“Shame.” she replied quickly. “My body was unaware you could absorb non-humans, or she would have gone with a less critical deliverywoman.”

“Delivery female.” Endrance corrected. “Elves are not men and they resent the association.”

“Sorry,” she replied though her tone was nothing approaching remorseful. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to worry about properly labeling things.”

Endrance frowned. “Sure.” he dragged the subject back on target. “So you’re telling me that Mercanians treat death in a highly ritualistic manner?”

Valeria shook her head. “You don’t understand yet.” she replied. “Every part of Mercanian life is ritual. They are beings that grew from magic power, and not from Life like humans did. Culturally they structured their lives like one would a spell. Arguments never got heated, enemies never directly battled. Their lives were precious to them, and they wouldn’t do anything that could risk their lives. Rivalries involved generations of human slaves being maneuvered to try to overcome the opponent.”

“So…” Endrance reasoned, “When Malchoir actually intervened, and killed other Mercanians… He was the first murderer of his kind?”

Valeria nodded. “For the most part.” she replied. “You’re starting to figure it out.” she answered. “I was busy escaping with what books we had made on magic, but later I found that they had decided not to execute him, because that would mean that whoever did the task would be saddled with his ‘imprint’ as you would put it. And since he had killed, they weren’t sure if that changed the nature of their minds and that scared them.”

“So they imprisoned him instead. Far away from their empire.” Endrance concluded.

Nodding, Valeria’s imprint seemed content. “Yes.” she replied. “They had other problems by then, too.”

“Your brother.” the mage supplied. “He found Balator.”

“The mountain, yes. And with my help we had started stealing away humans from their masters. They were taken to the mountain, and by the time the Mercanians looked up from dealing with Malchoir, we had grown into thousands. You know what came next, yes?”

“I surmised there was war.” Endrance replied, tapping into the memories of the wolf shamans. The battle memories he had flowed across the silver pool, showing their ‘hunt’ of the Mercanian woman. “A single Mercanian with slave armies would come to try to wipe out the free humans.”

“And we learned how to kill them fast.” Valeria added. “If we killed them before they could enact some of their spells, we actually would come out with not just most of our lives but also the forces we turned to our side.”

“But there was a problem.” Endrance replied, pulling at a thought thread that Valeria was ignoring. “If their imprints were immortal, then killing one would still yield vital intelligence to their allies.”

Valeria nodded. “That’s why we fought with everything we had with every attack. Fought to the death.” she stated, adding her own memory of the battles to the pool. They were strangely distant from both Rothel’s side and the Mercanian’s side. Noting that, Endrance considered the ramifications.

“No other Mercanians joined your side?” Endrance asked after a moment's hesitation. “No one else sided with Malchoir?”

“Malchoir’s side and our side weren’t the same thing by this point.” Valeria replied. “We had very little to do with him. I hoped I would find him, free him to join us, but it was impossible at that point. The rest of the Mercanians… none would ever even conceive of the idea of joining on the side of what they considered ritual materials.”

“So when the war was over, you and the remaining magic-using humans formed the Circle of Magi.” Endrance prodded, moving things along. “And started teaching the ways of magic to more humans.”

Valeria shook her head. “Well, it’s not that simple.” she said.

The pool shifted with images of the view from Balator, a slope on the high peaks where they watched as practically one side of the world exploded. It wasn’t a simple blast, but almost as if gravity had become reversed, tearing chunks out of the world and hurtling them up into the sky before raining them down elsewhere. Even from the mountain’s safety they could see whole swaths of land miles across tossed about like a bunch of loose blocks in a box tossed into the sky.

The image changed again, this time showing from Valeria’s perspective a heated argument with her brother. A stone table was crushed under Rothel’s fist as their fight almost turned into a brawl.

“Your uncle and I had a falling out. A large portion of the humans had seen the atrocities created by magic and wanted nothing to do with it. So we left. We drifted south, skirting what we all call the Shatter.” her expression turned sad as she spoke. “That’s when we found a Mercanian city that had been left mostly intact.”

The image in the pool changed to show a coastline rise, and from it Valeria stood with numerous others, overlooking what Endrance recognized as the capital of Ironsoul. The city was nowhere near the same as he knew it. There were no outer walls, and the place was almost entirely flat, built with single floor buildings and arcane structures. He overlaid his own mental map of the city that he had made when he was controlling the Sand Hornet swarm, and he could see how generations had built upon what existed, in some cases completely covering over several devices with structures he had thought were just regular houses but were in fact inaccessible to anyone. He would guess they were part of the circle that imprisoned Malchoir, though he would have to check one of them out when he came to visit in the future to see if it was true.

“It wasn’t long before we figured out what it was and how it operated. All of that just to keep one person contained. We liberated the slaves living there, who had been trained to defend the city from the independent humans. Once they had been freed from their conditioning, they were able to help rebuild the surface as much as we could without disturbing the spell worked into the city. Eventually I found Malchoir trapped deep below, guarded by that dragon.”

Endrance shook his head. “What about the Mercanians living there?” He asked. “There had to be a jailer or slave master keeping things going.”

Valeria shrugged. “The dragon told me that he had taken the opportunity to kill the only Mercanian jailor while he was still reeling from the events of the Shattering.”

Visions rolled across the pool, showing several brief interactions with the black dragon. Most of the first ones were rightfully fearful, but as time passed and the memories advanced a sort of tense understanding became obvious.

“Mastodon.” the mage stated. “Not a particularly apt name.”

“It’s a name given to his first human form.” Valeria stated. “Which was a mammoth of a man. His later ‘generations’ were slowly slimed down a little to make rulership easier.”

The image of Mastodon as he currently knew him appeared, and time rolled backwards, the only major indication was the background color changed every second or so as each ‘generation’ posed for their portrait when they took the throne. Mastodon’s body gradually changed, becoming larger and bulkier, more aggressive, to the point where the form at the end of the chain of portraits would have been telling enough that Endrance would have identified him as a dragon even in his human guise. Huge and powerful and predatory, He would have made Balen look average despite being almost the same height.

“Why did he rule humans in the first place?” Endrance asked.

The ex-archmagus shrugged. “It was the condition of allowing us to live there.” she explained. “He would put on a human guise, and act as the leader in order to make sure the seal was maintained. We’ve never been strong enough to kill him, so we had to accept what bargain we were offered. We had been too invested in the arrangement by the time I discovered it was Malchoir deep below. By that point, breaking the circle would almost certainly kill everyone above the prison when the spells failed.”

Endrance suspected that Mastodon had been bound with a binding spell as perfect as the one that held Albegraniel. The reflecting pool showed the Bastille deep below. Time lapsed, showing Valeria slipping down multiple times to try to get inside, and after what must have been decades, finally gaining access.

“I couldn’t overtly turn against my peers, and had to start moving in secret. Only the ‘Archmagus’ of our Circle would be allowed to see the prisoner, so I replaced the first Archmagus.”

A quick memory showed the man from one of the first memories, by this point old to the point of being ancient, pressing a belt with nine golden sigils on it into Valeria’s hands. He laid back into his bed, closed his eyes, and was still.

“I worked in secret to make accessing Malchoir easier.” Valeria continued. “By orchestrating it so that Mastodon had an ever-increasing workload to keep him busy. Breaking Ironsoul up into the many kingdoms, sending an aggressive commander to make first contact with the elves so that it turned into war, even continuing the friction between my people and my brother’s descendants. All of that just so I could meet my love a few more times a year.” she seemed satisfied with her work, like ruining all those people’s lives were nothing to her.

Endrance could see that it wasn’t a sudden change, from someone helping save humans from the Mercanians to one who was just as bad as them. The transformation was spread across a millenia, many lifetimes more than she should have been capable of living. Over that long of time, the contrast between who she was and who she became was only stark when he looked at the beginning and the end.

“And the rest I more or less already experienced.” Endrance replied. “So now you can tell me why he left you.”

Valeria grimaced, her undead visage rippling across her face. “Because I died.” she said. “I had become undead. He quickly lost any fondness he had left for me. I was abandoned on that shore because that was as far as he had intended for me to go. He used a simple binding spell to anchor my body to the coast. I wasn’t prepared for him to turn on me. My undead mind couldn’t even conceive of it.”

As she explained, Valeria’s memories rippled across the pool in waves, showing the journey they took after trapping Endrance in the Bastille. The memories from after her death were strangely muted and hazy, similar to the Atastos he had encountered years before. They had walked on foot, though it appeared that Malchoir was having trouble restoring his power quickly even though he was out of the Bastille’s power-robbing influence.

“I suspected that he was suffering something similar to atrophy.” Valeria explained. “And I tried to find ways to give him some power to regain his strength. All the Crystalphage I had gathered was absorbed in an instant, but he found the experience distasteful. It hurt, at first. He spent time getting back into his strength, but it was slow going and I could see it was frustrating him.”

An image, muted and gray, showed Malchoir let out an agitated scream into the sky, standing very near to the shore where Endrance had found Valeria.

“In the end, I gave in and offered to give him the last of my power. I had been quite full of power, and in my death the emotions I had were cast in stone. I still loved him enough that I’d do anything for him, and so I was willing to risk dying again to see him restored.”

The image changed, showing her reaching out with withered hands to Malchoir, and the Mercanian recoiled violently, an expression of pure disgust on his face.

“That was when he bound me there.” she said, the image on the surface showing her trying to resist the spell and failing.

“I’m guessing that Mercanians find necromantic power like poison.” Endrance observed. “They don’t have life force to sustain their bodies if their pool of power gets tainted.”

Valeria did the best she could to shrug. “Maybe. It makes sense, from what we both know.” she muttered.

Endrance was silent, thinking.

Valeria’s eyes slipped slowly from her mortal visage into the burning green points that were her undead gaze. “There’s another question you want to ask.” she says, a smile cracking the thin layers of skin around her lips as if it were porcelain. “Go ahead.”

“You want me to ask about what you did to me.” he said simply. “So… what was it?”

“I can’t tell you!” she cackled back, her face crumbling more as her smile twisted into sadistic glee. “I don’t even know!”

Endrance glared at her and mentally tore away more of her remaining volition. She shuddered, her living guise crumbling to dust as he did so. Her full undead body writhed in its chains.

“I don’t know!” She restated in obvious pain. “Whatever thoughts I had at that moment had been burned out when you killed me.” she whispered, her voice turning dry and raspy, sounding entirely like her litch form. Beneath her, the pool frosted over, freezing entirely and turning opaque. “But what I can tell you, is thank you.”

“Thank you?” Endrance asked, his concern rising. He had beaten her, why was she so confident? “Why?”

Valeria lifted her head to look at him, her undead face glaring back at him. “You’ve ended my suffering. I’m reunited with my son. And I shall soon have my revenge on the one who twisted me around his fingers.”

She, despite dying, felt that she had won. She had her perverse, twisted desires granted, and would live on eternally within her son’s mind, woven around his foundations like ivy.

Something about that made Endrance rankle. How dare she gloat like she won even when he had her at his mercy? It was almost as if she believed wholeheartedly that he would not remove her, for fear of breaking himself in the process.

“You will have nothing.” Endrance declared, standing. “You’re dead. And dead you will remain.”

She merely smiled, her dry lips pulled taut in a cruel mockery of her prior beauty. “You could say I’ll live vicariously through you.”

Endrance stepped forward, his foot landing onto the rhime and instantly boiling the water beneath, melting the ice in his anger. “You.” he growls, setting his resolve. “You will see nothing, you will hear nothing. You will become nothing.”

Here burning eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.” she stammered, struggling in her chains. “You couldn’t! You would have to root me out of every fiber of your mind! You could destroy yourself!”

Endrance grasped the chains binding her and narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been working on ferreting you out of my head this entire time.” he said, the pulses of light flowing into his hand. “There’s a lot of you to unpack, you have been here since the day I was born, so you fit yourself into the building blocks of my growth, education, and even personality.”

His grip tightened on the chains, and the metal started to glow, heating up from within. “But, you didn’t control everything.” he said. “You left me in the hands of your great-great nephew Joseph. He had given me the things you lacked. Sympathy, love, unconditional acceptance of one’s flaws. I didn’t turn out like you, nor my father. I became someone far greater than either of you.”

“Acceptance?” Valeria spat, her undead body sizzling from contact with the burning hot chains. “I’ve seen what acceptance gets you.”

Shaking his head, he felt through his connection to the chains that he was done. “You know what, sometimes acceptance also means accepting your limitations… And learning when it is time to let go.”

He pulled on the chain, and the liquid silver burst into golden flames. “It’s time for me to let you go, mother.”

He wasn’t going to completely forget her, per se. Barring any brain damage like he had suffered throwing his will against a succubus, it was nearly impossible for him to remove her like that. What he could do, though, was ferret out all the parts of his own volition she had stolen from him as he had grown up, burn away the taint and influence her presence had on him, and distill her down into something less dangerous — merely his, and only his, human memories.

He ripped the burning chains out of the silver pool, and the loose end coiled around Valeria. The ancient and powerful litch and ex-archmage only let out a satisfied sigh as her form burned away. The chains constricted as she crumbled, until all that remained was a burning ball of twisting silver chain as big as his head. He looked it over, going through his mind one last time. She was gone. Every sliver of her consciousness had been captured, leaving an aching absence in places he didn’t think could hurt.

Still, it was a good kind of pain. The pain that came from growing up and growing out of something that was harmful. Smiling, Endrance held the ball between two hands, the flames dying out. With a small exertion of effort, he brought his hands together. The chains flexed, strained, and then burst into nothingness, leaving behind a book. Just one book, simple, brown leather backed, and marked in gold ink ‘Valeria’ down the spine.

Turning, Endrance walked away from the pool, to the section of the library he devoted to what he knew about people. Sorting through the shelves, he came near to the end. He set her on the shelf with the V’s - right between Valentine and Valzoa - and nodded to himself, satisfied. This was the proper way to be done with her. The book held just the essence of her life and experiences, no individual will or volition remained.

Looking around, the library appeared subtly different. At first, Endrance couldn’t put his finger on it, but after staring at one of the walls for a while, he finally got it. The white stone of the main library looked older, weathered. Parts of the library showed signs of sagging, as if the foundations had crumbled in places. Endrance grit his teeth as he surveyed the damage. He would be busy repairing his mental construct for a long time.

He walked away, returning to the pool. Without hesitation he stepped forward, pivoting on the edge of the pool to fall face first through it in one smooth motion. He transitioned through to his secure practice area, where his perfect spell construction table remained and the shelves with the sum knowledge of magic were kept safe. Several shelves were filled out now, things he had learned from both Kaelob and Valeria and were now fully his. The darker stone walls and floor gave the room a more serious demeanor than the stately and quietly grand appearance of his library.

He stepped up to these shelves, carefully sorting through the research he had accumulated. Valeria had spent centuries researching ways to get Malchoir out of the Bastille, and in those attempts she had discovered a number of methods that were either not viable for her concerns or incomplete. One of the ones she had researched, he found, was one where she could transfer his consciousness from one body to another.

The problem was that it required a suitable body that could serve as a vessel. Malchoir protested the option of moving him to a human body, and Valeria didn’t know of any other living Mercanians she could use. This was actually what led to her attempts to create a surrogate body by having a child with him. The research notes included how many times she failed or the pregnancy didn’t succeed, grim facts that he kept only because the information was important to the overall whole of the project. She had prepared using him to literally replace Malchoir as a contingency plan in case her original plan went awry.

Endrance considered her death to be the main plan going awry, but he understood why the other plan had merit. That method wouldn’t risk setting off the alarms in the Bastille and angering the dragon that guarded the city. After what had happened, things barely worked out in her favor.

Still, he could use this research for himself. He had a suitable body available. One that could accept a mind, and he had a mind that needed a body. It was partially the reason he needed to thoroughly scrub Valeria’s presence from his thoughts. He needed to make sure she couldn’t slip through his defenses and throw herself into the body when he tried to transfer Anna into it.

And even though he would rather just rest… Just sleep after the exertion of finishing with her and the ache that came after, he needed to get this done. Pulling the book that was the collection of every memory about this procedure, he sat down at his spell-form table and set to studying. He’d only have a few hours to gain a perfect active understanding of what he had already learned. The spell table would allow him to practice the magic needed to make it work.

While he worked, he found himself getting distracted. Something seemed off, out of place. With a frown he looked up from his table and glared as he surveyed the room. Much of the architecture of his mind was the same after what happened with Valeria, but there were critical changes in the foundations and some imbalance was expected.

Then it dawned on him. His ‘perfect’ spell table was only perfect in concept. If it had been built using his prior understanding of magic, then it would still operate with those principles now even though he had scoured Valeria’s presence from his mind. It was completely flawed, and he wouldn’t be able to fix it until he had gone back and fixed everything else.

The mage let out a long, drawn out sigh and walked over to his shelves of spell knowledge. He started with the top left shelf, opening the case and withdrawing one of the books he had labeled Basic Magical Theory. It was one of the first ‘books’ he had created in the library of his mind. Opening it, he looked through it with expectations that things would be the same.

There were differences. Nothing drastic, but he could see evidence that removing all the things Valeria had woven her psyche into had also affected his memory of his lessons… or had reinforced improper lessons, now that he thought about Kaelob’s involvement. There were some words that had been changed to synonyms that would mean the same in conversation, but had greatly different allusions when it came to magical script. Most people, most wizards even, would not have been able to tell, but Endrance had the imprints of Valeria, Kaelob, and even Kaelob’s apprentice stored there, so he could instantly tap the information and cross reference it with what he ‘knew’ to see what was different this time around.

He groaned. “What a setback.” Endrance grumbled. There were enough microscopic differences in the basics that it would have deleterious effects on his advanced spells and circles —  of course this would have an effect on his spellcasting. Endrance had no idea what would happen if he tried casting spells without Valeria’s consciousness there to correct his casting mid-process.

She likely had wormed her way into this part of his mind specifically to try to keep him from doing what he had just done. Going through all the changes would take weeks, if not years to fix, and he couldn’t risk casting any spells he knew without going over them with a fine-toothed comb first. Well, he could go over his basic principles first, and then start moving out in a radial pattern from that central kernel of knowledge and let the pieces fall into place, but even that would be a chore.

Endrance rolled up the sleeves on his mental representation as he readied himself to get to work. He started going over Basic Magical Theory, reviewing everything and looking over what fundamental bits had actually changed. He couldn’t know what were the correct ways most of his spells would work until he had finished going through at least the Basics.

He then realized he would have to check his spellscribing. They were set in his skin, so it was likely those spells would work just fine, but Valeria was crafty enough that he couldn’t be entirely certain.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Twenty Five

Endrance was stirred from his meditation at about mid-morning the next day by Selene, who demanded he eat and drink a little before going back to his work. Afterwards, he slipped back into his head. He finished going over the fundamentals and was pleasantly surprised how much more effective things could be now that his mother’s influence was gone.

That, and some of the teachings of Life magic started to make sense, which meant that she had been actively impeding his progress in that field. After hundreds of small mental calibrations, he began working out the spells and procedures necessary to transfer Anna’s imprint.

Life aboard the ship continued around him, until he was roused again late in the evening to handle some bodily needs and to eat supper with everyone and check on Giselle’s progress in her next stage of training. The Mercanian’s body fed off of power instead of food, so he checked with it and transferred some of his power into it before going back to his meditation just to be sure it continued to survive. If it was pained by the random magical static of the Shatter, it never showed it or reacted during the magical noise.

It took him eight more days of constant meditation to complete the procedures and spells he needed to do what was required. During that time the ship had traveled west along the edge of the Shatter, avoiding what dangers they could and fighting off what they couldn’t.

On the eve of the last day, when he came out of his meditation ready to go, he was surprised to see they were serving some kind of freshly caught bird for supper instead of their usual rations.

“What’s this?” he asked, sitting down between Giselle and Joven. Both of his companions looked at him with a glimmer of amusement in their eyes while they gnawed meat off the bone.

“Some kind of giant bird.” Joven said after swallowing. “It was an awesome fight. It spewed burning oil from its mouth and had talons the size of shortswords!”

Endrance blinked, looking at the plate of steaming meat that Bridget plunked down before him. “This looks… fried?” he asked, cutting a piece off.

It was a large bird. Gullin stated, making contact with him for the first time in a while. I would have warned you if it posed any real threat.

I understand. Thank you, Gullin. Endrance replied.

“It exploded!” Giselle spouted, her mouth partially full of food. “Self-cooking bird!”

No threat, huh? Endrance quipped to Gullin.

Not a significant one. His familiar replied, sensing the wizard’s doubt.

Staring at the plate, he shook his head. “The Shatter has some weird monsters.” he observed, taking a bite. It was delicious.

“It had six legs!” Joven said with some glee. “The best part.”

Endrance leaned back from the table and looked over the room. Selene, Bridget, Tanya, Joven, Giselle, and Valzoa each had an enormous fried bird leg at their places. The leg was massive enough that it would have been considered a 2-handed club by most warriors. Everyone else was either enjoying a chunk of meat or trying their best to ignore the feasting while they ate their vegetables and bread. Giselle couldn’t even get her mouth over her drumstick properly, though she was certainly up for the challenge.

“Yeah… definitely some weird monsters.” he muttered, taking another bite. “Tastes amazing though.”

“So how is the thing going?” Joven asked. “You figure everything out?”

Endrance nodded, practically shoveling the food into his mouth. “Yup.” he managed to answer between bites. Tanya rose from her seat and went back into the kitchen area.

“Great.” Joven replied. “Are we going to do it tonight?”

“Do what tonight?” Giselle asked. “That thing Selene said?”

Endrance shot Giselle a curious look, his chewing slowing. “Huh?” he managed.

Giselle made a somewhat lewd gesture with the bone in her hand. “She said when two people are really attracted to each other they–”

“Giselle no!” Selene called from down the table. “That’s not it!”

Endrance gave his companion a look that was supposed to be ‘what are you teaching her?’ but probably looked pretty comical with his mouth stuffed full of food, eyepatch or no.

“Sorry.” Selene murmured to him.

“No, we can’t perform the transfer tonight. We don’t have all the materials and this ship and its location is a terrible environment to try. One of those pulses from the Shatter and more than Anna will be lost.” Endrance explained. “It would be better if we did it somewhere safer. And like I said, I need a few more items.”

Nodding, Joven finished off his drink. “What do you need?” he asked. “I learned about some stuff when I was traveling with Meryl.”

Endrance shrugged. “Some basics. Honey, powdered gold, clear candle wax, carved figures representing the elements… A perfectly flat, perfectly level surface in perfect view of the sun and moons, fine chisels. Chalk, if possible.”

The big man made a show of pondering. “Chalk might be a problem.” he said jokingly. “I think we had most of those materials available in Fini. I saw a glassblower who could make some beautiful creations. Would that work for your figures?”

“I’ll have to look after I’m done eating.” Endrance replied, chowing down on the last of his food. “Though I kinda wish I had more of this–”

Returning from the Kitchen, Tanya slipped Endrance’s empty plate out from in front of him and plunked a new, completely full plate down.

Staring at the still steaming slice of fried bird, he looked around the room. “How freaking big was this thing!?!” he exclaimed.

****

Thanks to Valzoa, they were able to find a small island just out of sight of the Shatter they could drop anchor at for a while. It was barely a quarter-mile long bar of dirt and vegetation with no signs of life other than a few seagull nests.

Endrance had never been to the island before, so he took the time to memorize the location and the particulars of the landmass. He had alternative means of finding the place, but memorizing it would be a more secure way to get back.

This far away from the Shatter, the turbulence it gave off was barely noticeable. Endrance suspected that had a lot to do with the distance and the amount of water in-between than anything else. Even so, he took off his gloves and helmet and waited until the faintest tickle of noise passed before casting his spell. Moving quickly, he chanted the words of power and formed the proper mudras before releasing the spell’s energy. A starry black void reminiscent of the night sky tore open at the slash of his hand, and Joven jumped through with Endrance.

They arrived on a road just outside of Fini, at most a hundred yards away from the bridge leading in. The city seemed to be bustling and moving along as well as it could since their departure only a couple of weeks prior. Endrance looked over at Joven and shrugged. “This is as close as I could do.” he said, scratching the back of his head.

He had fixed the mess of magic fundamentals and even made sure to check his understanding of the spell with the unsullied imprint from Kaelob’s apprentice, but just to be safe he had planned for landing outside of town. Just in case there was an unseen flaw and he would have ended up inside a wall, or worse, a person.

“Great.” Joven replied with a smile. “At least we won’t suddenly pop in and surprise anyone this time.”

“Always the optimist.” Endrance replied. He turned to walk towards the bridge gate leading into Fini.

The two covered the ground relatively quickly. Along the way Endrance pulled his helmet on, followed by his gloves.

“How’s the armor feeling now you’ve had it on all this time.” Joven asked, noticing the mage’s stiff motions donning the armor.

Endrance shrugged, feeling the weight on his shoulders. “It’s getting easier.” he admitted. “I still can’t cast any spells with my gloves on. The helmet really stifles my magical senses. I couldn’t tell if there was another mage nearby if they were standing in front of me.”

Joven shrugged. “Well, at least it’s not likely anyone here’s going to recognize you. You look like a warrior, what with the white and gold armor, helmet, and metal eyepatch.” he sized him up again. “And you’re actually bulkier than when we were last here.”

“Joven, that was at most a month ago.” Endrance replied. He hadn’t really been paying attention to the passage of time, being in his head for so long. He wasn’t even sure if he was eating regularly. The Draugnoa would shake him out of it if they felt he needed food, but he seemed to need it less when he was only meditating all day.

“So?” Joven grumbled. “If I could use your training regimen when I was a kid, I’d have been the strongest man on Balator by the age of fifteen.”

“Yeah… you had to settle for getting there at the age of what, twenty-eight?” Endrance joked. “Actually… how old are you? I never really asked.”

“Eh, you’re close enough. We kinda stop keeping track after twenty.” Joven replied. “It’s not important how many years you’ve avoided death. The number of battles you’ve won, however…”

“So I should stop keeping track then?” Endrance jested back.

Joven shook his head. “For mages like you?” he asked, chuckling. “I’d probably give up after two-hundred. You live way too long and by then age really doesn’t matter.”

Entering the city wasn’t hard. He ordinarily had made the watch uneasy. A wizard of his power dwelling in the city during what seemed to be a major upheaval of magic users was cause for the common man to have alarm.

However, his new appearance clad in white leather and burnished golden plates made him seem like an altogether different person. His stature was a little broader and thicker with the addition of so many layers of armor and the extra muscle he had been putting on. He wasn’t anywhere near Joven’s level of size or strength on his own, but he was no longer the lean and soft young man he had once been.

The only way that someone would know who he was was to recognize him by voice or see him with his helmet off, which he was not inclined to remove. Even that would be dependent on them actually knowing him.

Joven led the way, the two of them weaving through the streets of Fini as the barbarian tried to find his way to the shops he had told Endrance about. They had been gone from the place only a scant month or two at most, yet the atmosphere seemed muted and strange. There were fewer people in the streets than usual, and the watchmen they did pass eyed them for a bit longer than would have been normal. By the time they made it to the first shop, a glassblower, Endrance was feeling more than a little on edge.

Joven opened the door, allowing Endrance to enter first.

“Something’s wrong here.” Joven muttered to Endrance as the mage slipped past him into the shop. Endrance only gave a slight nod as a response, otherwise entering the building with the same degree of casual ease he had displayed before. He was confident enough in his newly designed armor that it would defeat or at least deflect any sudden strikes, so instead he kept in mind ways he could strike back if he was ambushed.

Inside the glassblower’s shop was small, but not cramped. The front third of his home was converted into a shop, while the latter two-thirds was his workshop, with his own bed on the floor above. The simple shop had sturdy, well stabilized lipped shelves and a stock of beautiful artistic pieces of glass, sets of cups, carafes, and fluted glasses. Endrance’s eye caught a rack of thin vials that would be useful for making tinctures or doses of potions.

An older man with graying hair and wrinkles around his eyes, the glassblower, came out from the back at the sound of the door’s bell ringing.

“Ah.” he said, his voice gritty. “Is that you, Joven? I thought you had left?”

The barbarian closed the door behind them and stood to the side, his arms crossed defensively. “Sorry, old man.” he replied, his face turned away. “I forgot...”

The glassblower shook his head, waving away the apology. “Please, you’re busy, I know that. And call me Walter. You’ve been here enough to remember my name.”

Endrance looked over at his barbarian cohort and raised an eyebrow. “So this is where you went when you weren’t around?” he asked, a smile ticking at the corner of his mouth.

Joven looked down at him and tightened his lips, a faint blush of color tinging his weathered cheeks. “I came here once with Giselle.” he explained. “I thought the glass was pretty. Tried to learn how to do it.”

Walter chuffed. “The man has some steady hands, but no artistic sense!” he added. “I gave him a few lessons but he gave up after two weeks.”

In response Joven shrugged. “I didn’t give up!” he protested. “I had other duties to attend to… and I gave up.”

Endrance snickered. “Don’t worry about it, Joven.” he assured his big friend. “You’ll have plenty of time to practice after we’re done with our task.”

“So do you still have those element pieces you showed me before?” Joven interjected, changing the subject. “We’d like to buy them.”

The glassblower scratched his head. “Uhm… I think so? I don’t remember selling them, if that’s what you mean.” he replied “Do you want the whole set or just a couple of pieces?”

Holding up a hand, the mage spoke. “Well, can I see them first? I need to see if they’re going to qualify for what we need.”

The glassblower stared at the young man in white and gold armor for several seconds before replying. “You mean to use them for some kind of magic thing, don’t you?” he asked, his tone becoming defensive.

Endrance nodded, reaching up and taking his helmet off. “Yes. I am looking for specific components to perform a ritual, and Joven had told me you might have something I need.”

It wasn’t uncommon for a craftsman to have suspicions of a mage buying their products. Some might dislike someone using magic on principle, some had mages use their items to make even more money than they could, and a scarce few had suffered because of a mage tampering with the sympathetic link between a creation and their creator.

The mage added simply. “If the items will work, please let me buy them.”

Walter’s eyes were mirthless. “And if they are, but I refuse?” he asked. “What then, will you take them by force?”

Endrance blinked at him, confused. “W-what?” he asked, “I… would have to go somewhere else, or make them on my own… are you really worried I’m going to rob you?”

With a grumble, Joven spoke up. “Something’s been going on in Fini since we left, hasn’t it?” he asked. “Someone came here, started causing trouble?”

Walter sighed, walking behind the counter and slumping onto his stool.

“Something like that.” the glassblower replied. “About a week ago some mages showed up looking for one of their own. Some person named Endrance… I don’t know what they wanted but they refused to believe he was gone from here. Burned a few buildings down, robbed some shops of their valuables, and people died. Then they vanished. At least… somewhere? No one saw them leave the city and there are rumors that they’ve been spotted lurking about in the shadows.”

Endrance frowned, his eye narrowing. “They’re killing people?” he asked. Joven looked down at the back of his charge and sighed, knowing that this was not a situation Endrance was going to leave alone. Instead of trying to give them the slip, now the mage was going to throw himself headfirst into a conflict with them in order to save lives.

“You’re going to draw them out and deal with them, aren’t you?” Joven asked.

Only slightly turning his head to regard Joven, Endrance nodded. “Oh yeah. I’m not letting more people die because of my existence.”

Realization dawned on Walter. “You’re… you’re that mage?!” the old man asked. “You’re Endrance?”

“Yeah… I am he.” Endrance admitted with a sigh. “So can I get a look at those elemental figures or should I go somewhere else?”

Walter looked from Joven to Endrance and pursed his lips, struggling internally.

“Tell you what.” Walter finally said. “Let’s take a look at them, and if you want ‘em, you deal with those guys and I’ll give you them for free.”

Grinning, Endrance nodded his head. “Sounds like a deal. So where are they?”

Chapter Twenty Six

The pieces were exceptional, and Endrance asked a few more questions of Walter before agreeing to help him out. Walter didn’t know Endrance was planning on paying for the work anyways. The wizard would have gone to take care of those interlopers regardless.

“Hey, hold on a second!” Joven exclaimed, following Endrance out of the shop and into the streets.

Endrance’s pace slowed slightly. He had set out towards where he estimated the center of town to be. “Yeah?” he asked. “What is it?”

Grumbling, Joven caught up and walked alongside him, people moving out of the way as the two took to the center of the street.

“I mean, you know me.” Joven started. “I’m all for just jumping into the fire and kicking asses, but don’t we have a much higher priority?”

“Which is?” Endrance asked, sounding distracted. In his head, the mage was formulating spells and contingencies he’d need to be mentally prepared for.

“Uh… your… Malchoir?” the barbarian asked. “Isn’t he like, the big threat here? If you fall here we have no way of finding him, much less, you know, stopping him?”

Endrance slowed further, turning to look at his comrade. “Yeah.” he replied. “Malchoir is my goal, but we have some time. I can’t just let innocent people get hurt or killed because I exist.”

Joven shook his head. “But this is obviously not just because you exist.” he started. “Also, what is the guy going to do? What’s his plan?”

Endrance glanced at the crowd around him. “I’m… not sure.” he replied. Joven’s face turned incredulous, and Endrance had to rush to answer. “But I have my suspicions. I’ve had one for a long time.”

Joven’s stare bored into him, and the mage squirmed. “Look, I can’t put it all to words yet.” he protested. “I know he’s not just looking to find somewhere nice and quiet to relax the rest of his days away, believe me. He’s got something in mind, I just don’t know what the particulars are.”

“But… you could have told us that!” Joven protested. “And how do you know anything about what he’s doing?”

Shrugging, Endrance gave him a sheepish look. “I… didn’t think you all would be willing to follow me on a hunch. I had to act like I knew exactly what he was up to.” Endrance opened his mouth to answer Joven’s second question and hesitated. “Strange… I knew… more about his plans?” he muttered. “But I can’t… remember them?”

A dull throb in his head. “Oh.” Endrance muttered. “I knew there’d be repercussions. It looks like she had managed to do some damage after all.”

“... What?” The big man asked, “You’re not making any sense.”

“Valeria.” he replied curtly, dismissing the question. Endrance resumed his pace. “I have some suspicions about what he’s going to try to do, based on what we found in that structure on the edge of the Shatter. I need to do this ritual to try to confirm something.”

“And bring Anna back?” Joven added.

Sighing, Endrance shook his head. “I don’t even know if it will really be Anna, or just a copy of her. Like when someone transcribes a book to make a duplicate. Sure it will have the same words, but the handwriting won’t be exactly the same, and the pages and cover might be different too. Would that really be her, or something akin to her but also different?”

Joven took a deep breath. “That’s… too much thinking for me.” he replied. “But Anna was loved… Don’t mess with her memory.”

“I know. I really do, that’s why I’m taking all these precautions.” Endrance shrugged. “I may be overthinking it.” he admitted. “But I need to be ready that it’s not really her.”

“So… we kick these guys' butts, get the things, and do the ritual?” Joven asked. “That shouldn’t be hard.”

“The hard part will be finding them.” Endrance answered. “After that, it’s pretty much just ‘kill them before the collateral damage gets too high.”

Joven faintly chuckled. “I’ll try to target enemy mages while you wipe up the trash.” he suggested. Endrance nodded in agreement. They each had their own tactical uses, and while Endrance would be capable of countering mages, a clash between two spellcasters would cause a ton of fallout. Letting Joven, who was largely magic-immune, get right up in their personal space would be the fastest way of taking one out.

“I just need to get their attention.” Endrance stated. “Picking a fight in a place and time of my choosing will give me an edge.”

****

A man wearing dark hooded clothing and a black silk sash trailed behind them, drawing out a foot-long rod of polished dark oak. Normally Joven and Endrance would have been able to tell they were being tailed from that close of a distance, but the man was draped in a spell that muted his presence. It wasn’t a true invisibility spell, but one that made him seem simply unimportant which was infinitely more useful in a bustling busy street.

Endrance and Joven stopped at a street corner to allow the flow of foot traffic to clear out of their way. Their tail slowed, watching them cautiously. They had come to investigate the potential sighting of Joven, who was a known companion of Endrance, and he was surprised to finally recognize the man next to the great warrior was in fact the mage they were looking for. He had only been hiding in the city for a month; how did he change his appearance so completely?

The only thing that gave Endrance away was, actually, the eyepatch. The Truesilver plate over his eye was something many had reported when they had been interrogated, so it was a key feature in the description he had been given. To think that the rest of the mage’s appearance would have changed so much in the short period of time they had lost track of him. The stalker got close enough to sense that there weren’t any magical auras coming off of Endrance either, so he was pretty sure it wasn’t illusion or transformation magic either.

No matter how Endrance had changed his appearance, the fact remained that he had done little to actually significantly hinder their attempts to find him. The agent trailing the duo cast a quick spell and whispered a quick message.

“Boss, I found Endrance. I’m shadowing him right now.” he sent. “Send everyone you can to my position.”

The message was carried away in a whisper of wind. It had an effective range of about a mile, but in a city it was more valuable than simply sending a messenger since it was almost impossible to intercept or detect. The entire team sent to hunt down Endrance knew the spell, so he received a response almost instantly.

“They’re on the way. Is he alone?”

The man crossed the street after Endrance and Joven had crossed and walked a bit farther. “No, Joven’s with him.”

“Understood. Split them up, your backup will try to draw the idiot away.”

The man didn’t hesitate, altering his walking trajectory to intercept the pair. As he walked, he drew the dark oak rod and gripped it tightly in his hand. Runes carved in the shaft started to glow as he channeled a small amount of power into it from his aura. Trusting his occlusion spell to keep himself from being run into while walking, the man spared a second to cast a spell that increased his speed.

His preparations complete, he closed the last bit of distance to Endrance and swung his rod. The magically-enhanced piece of wood projected a magical, invisible blade of air. If his attack landed, the extremely thin edge of wind would disable the mage before he even knew what was happening.

****

Endrance was startled when he felt something pat him on the back. Blinking, he turned his head to glance at Joven, who had conveniently put himself in Endrance’s blind spot.

“Did you just tap me?” he asked.

Joven looked back at the mage and shook his head before looking behind the wizard. He spotted a flabbergasted-looking man in a black hood carrying a stick in his hand, and his eyebrows knit together as concern grew. Pointing, Joven called Endrance’s attention to the attacker.

“I think this guy just poked you with a stick.” Joven declared.

Endrance turned around, sighing. “Well I guess they found us faster than we found them.” he complained. “There goes our surprise advantage.”

The man moved forwards to swing at Endrance again, only to have his face intercepted by Joven’s fist. There was a sound of bone crunching, and the attacker flipped backwards away from the barbarian’s arm to land on his head. The body sagged, legs draped over the head, with blood starting to dribble out onto the paving stones. Endrance gave a sympathetic wince at the painful-looking way his companion just took the assassin out.

“Oh!” Endrance blurted, turning to show his back to Joven. “How’d the coat do?”

Joven casually looked it up and down. “I’m gonna say I have no idea where he hit you.” he replied to Endrance’s query. “Maybe he wasn’t an assassin?”

At that point, the ground underneath them exploded upwards, sending the two of them sailing into the air. A shop front window was completely destroyed by Joven and Endrance crashing through it. They rolled through a few shop stands, sending bolts of cloth and tailor-made outfits flying.

“I think.” Endrance coughed as he picked himself up off the ground. “That your first impression was accurate.”

Joven hopped to his feet, tearing a velvet dress away from his face. “All right.” he said, drawing his truesilver short swords. “Try to keep the damage to a minimum, okay?”

Endrance sighed, rolling his eye. “You know I don’t try to break things, right?” he asked as a group of five men and women in black hooded outfits melted out of the fleeing crowds of bystanders. One of them crouched near their fallen ally, checking for signs of life before shaking his head. Endrance didn’t think he was dead since he hadn’t absorbed an imprint, but he was certainly not going to be helping any time soon.

“Which one do you think’s the mage?” Joven asked.

Endrance was about to say something when the five simultaneously reached out a hand and shouted a quick word of power alongside aggressive hand signs. A jet of water, three blasts of lightning, and an icicle erupted from their outstretched hands to fly straight at him. Endrance threw up his arms defensively instinctively pushing power into his wards as he did so. The armor emitted a barely perceptible ringing tone as the effect of the wards reverberated with the spells Endrance had worked into the aurichalcum plates.

The spells hit Endrance and Endrance alone, seeming to ignore Joven entirely. The elemental energies reacted strangely, splattering against his arms and abdomen like they were extremely low-powered spells. For a second, Endrance wondered if they had been holding back so they could capture him.

“H-hey!” Joven called out indignantly, kicking a mannequin towards the mages and forcing them to scatter. “I want in on the fun too!”

While Joven charged towards the mages, Endrance remained still mostly because he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do to fight in his current state. The armor was fabulously effective, sure, but it restricted his hands enough that he couldn’t form complicated spells. Maybe he should have asked for mittens instead; at least then he could form hand signs within them.

The attacking mages looked disturbed, but Endrance would have attributed it to Joven’s fierce attack. They split up, three of them peppering Joven with quick spellslinging, but the other two started a more traditional spellcasting, chanting the words of power in tandem and forming multiple hand signs.

Endrance’s eye narrowed as he recognized the spell and the intricacies in the mudras and signs. Of the old Circle of Magi that he knew before his imprisonment in the Bastille, there was a magus who had disliked him. A man named Weldom. He didn’t know what really happened to the man while he was gone, but he recognized the mudras from Kaelob’s memories of working with Weldom.

In that instant, Endrance learned two things. One, he knew that the spell they were casting together would create a cage of nearly invisible blades around him. The second thing he realized was that he had enough experience now to be able to identify who trained a mage by the way they cast spells, alongside the spells they chose to use.

Putting power into his speed and strength spellscribing, Endrance jumped forwards, rolling as he vaulted the shop windowsill. As he rolled, he grabbed a handful of broken glass from the window and squeezed with his hand to crush it into powder quickly. As Endrance popped up to his feet, he swung his arm and opened his fist, sending a cloud of glass powder and shrapnel into their faces.

Their reaction to having their eyes and mouths peppered with glass sand was markedly negative. Coughing and screaming, the two staggered away, trying in vain to remove the glass that was shredding their eyes and throats. Endrance, however, had his simple air circulation spell scribed on his body that kept the dust from reaching his body. Satisfied they were taken out of the fight, at least for a while, he turned to help his buddy.

Joven, however, was already finishing up. He had pinned with one of his swords the first mage to the wall of the building opposite of the shop they wrecked, and a second mage had been divested of her head by the other sword, while the last had just been caught in Joven’s free hand by the neck. The barbarian lifted the man into the air while choking him before slamming the mage’s body into the paving stones under their feet. The head and shoulders took the brunt of the impact with a wet crunch.

Joven turned, ready to help Endrance out, only to grit his teeth and snap his fingers. “Damn.” he muttered. “Guess we had the same idea.”

Endrance glanced back at the two mages, who were now mutely coughing up blood while more blood flowed freely from their ruined eyes. “I think you won, though,” he admitted. “Mine are still alive; You took the time to actually kill yours.”

Shrugging, Joven walked over to the man pinned to the wall and yanked his sword free. “Eh,” he replied. “What did you use on them?”

“Glass.” Endrance said offhandedly. He watched as a thin trickle of golden wind left the three dead bodies Joven had made and rush along the ground towards him. The mages had almost empty auras, so the amount he got from them was minimal.

“You have a spell that makes glass?” Joven asked, puzzled. “How does that work?”

Shaking his head, Endrance laughed briefly. “No, I just picked up some glass, crushed it into powder, and threw it at them.” he explained. “No magic. Still working on that with the armor.”

The big man raised an eyebrow as he walked up and swiftly beheaded the two defenseless mages. “I have a newfound appreciation for the dangers of glassblowing.” he stated.

“Do you think that this is all of them?” Endrance asked as two more slightly stronger streams of power flowed into him. Even as he asked the question he found himself shaking his head. “There’s got to be more of them.”

Joven’s attention shifted. “Yup.” he answered, looking up at the city skyline. Endrance’s eye tracked his friend’s stare to spot a single mage standing on a multiple-story building that had a straight line of sight to where Endrance was standing. The mage had his hands up in the air, but just as Endrance spotted him, the enemy mage motioned with both hands like he was straining to pull something down.

Suspicious, Endrance pursed his lips and looked straight up. Above them was a tremendously large ball of blue fire over fifty yards across. The ball of fire started to descend like a dropped boulder.

I guess it’s now or never. Endrance thought, raising his right hand and pointing straight up with his fore and middle fingers. He poured power into the lightning spell on those fingers of his hand, and hoped that his newly designed armor wouldn’t screw things up.

Electricity crackled along his hand, dancing along the burnished golden plates and knuckle guard before shooting down his extended fingers and blasting up into the sky in a line. The electrical energy was as straight as an arrow, cracking directly into the center of the fireball above them. The ball of flames exploded in the sky, sending out a shockwave that shattered many more windows and knocking any remaining citizens nearby to the ground. The evaporating flames had a secondary effect of raising the air temperature of a large section of the city by several degrees.

Of course, Endrance didn’t have to defend like he did. Joven was able to resist magical flames easily, and Endrance was largely fireproof due to his contract with Gullin. However, if he had let the fireball drop, it would have destroyed countless homes, businesses, and lives with the blast. He also couldn’t be certain that the concussion from the blast wouldn’t affect him, even if the flames would do nothing.

Joven, nonplussed by the chaotic explosion overhead, sheathed his weapons and stooped to pick up a loose rock from the ground. While the mage gawked at Endrance countering his attack, Joven wound up his arm and threw the rock with all the effort he had available. While they couldn’t see from that distance exactly where it hit, they could see something spray off of the wizard’s body when the rock hit, and they fell silently off the roof to the street below them.

“Damn.” Endrance murmured, using his eyepatch’s effect to look closer. It had been blood and brain matter that had sprayed out. “You got a head shot.”

Joven grinned broadly. “Yep.” he said. “Been improving my aim.”

“Okay,” Endrance said again. “Now, do you think that’s all of them?”

They surveyed the damage to the city around them. The city street was upturned, shops had their windows blown out, and there had been fire raining from the sky. Almost everyone who had been in the area had fled or taken shelter, and bodies littered the vicinity like loose garbage. Endrance put his hands on his hips and nodded in satisfaction.

“I think we did good.” he said aloud. “This is minimal damage, right?”

Joven, still keeping his eyes out for danger, nodded. “Yeah, seems like nothing’s gonna burn down because of that idiot's fireball.” he responded. “And, seems like they don’t care what happens to the people around you, so long as they get you.”

“Well, sounds like they have a grudge against me.” Endrance replied. “But I don’t remember offending Weldom in any way that would warrant this reaction.”

Joven looked over at his friend. “You… ‘killed’ the High King of Ironsoul, led a sand hornet invasion of the capital city and handed it over to their northern enemies, and fractured the Circle of Magi so badly that its key members are all in hiding. If none of that is worth wanting to kill you over, then Weldom has the patience of a saint.”

“Okay, first off,” Endrance countered. “That was Valeria for the pretty much all of that.”

Shaking his head, Joven gestured broadly at the nearest crowd of people watching them, which caused the group to shrink away in fear. “Do you think any of them would be able to know that?” he asked. “It’s not exactly like you told people about it.”

“Ugh, I hate when you—” Endrance started to say. His words were interrupted as something that looked like a long, thin log of wood slammed into his back like a javelin, sending Endrance several yards forwards and facedown on the ground. Only a split second later a second projectile skimmed past Joven’s hip, driving deep into the sidewalk alongside the shop walls.

Joven recognized the object was a ballista bolt. They had loaded up and aimed a siege weapon at them while they had been talking. The bolt that had missed Joven was intact, but the one that had hit Endrance had been crushed against Endrance’s back right between the shoulder blades. Dropping to a crouch instantly, Joven grabbed Endrance’s ankle and gave him a tug. The mage slid freely, and was still conscious as Joven pulled him up and into the clothing shop they had been knocked into prior. Endrance left a smear of red-gold blood on the street as they fled.

“Endrance!” Joven called his friend once they were out of any direct line of sight. “Endrance! Speak to me!”

“... Nose.” Endrance replied, sounding stuffy. Joven flipped the prone mage over and saw Endrance glowering back at him. “I think I broke my nose.”

The wizard went to move, and winced. “Okay.” he admitted. “That also might have broken my left shoulder blade.”

Joven heard a whistling sound and ducked as another ballista bolt whistled through the shop window and thunked into the wall behind the back counter where they were taking cover. “How long do you need to heal?” he asked.

Endrance reached up with his right hand and grasped his nose and straightened it with a grunt. “Dunno.” he replied, “I’ll probably be fine by tomorrow.”

Looking up at the quivering piece of siege weapon ammunition in the wall over their heads, Joven gave Endrance a stern look. “And if you use a spell?” he prompted.

“Oh.” Endrance replied. “That’s right. I’ll be fine in a few seconds. Hang on.”

Another ballista bolt hit the counter between the two huddling figures, and they both looked at how close the shot had come to hitting them. “Yeah, a spell seems to be a good idea.” Joven observed as the mage worked his magic. He might be highly resistant to magic, but magically-propelled physical objects had the potential to hurt him just fine. “How are they doing this? There’s no way they should be able to aim at us here from a fixed position like a siege weapon!”

Endrance finished his healing spell, and glanced at the bolt again. “I don’t know if this is an actual ballista.” he concluded. “I think they’re just using a crossbow, but there’s a spell they’ve got that makes the bolts bigger.”

“That’s great! Just great.” Joven replied. Another bolt came whistling into the shop, puncturing the shop counter right where Joven was crouched. The barbarian’s hand whipped up and caught the bolt before it could penetrate him too. “Looks like they had a couple of plans drawn up for killing you. I’d be flattered.”

“I am!” Endrance replied cockily, now having healed. “I should go talk to them about that.”

Popping up, Endrance thrust out his left hand as another enormous bolt shot through the air towards him. His armor, wards, and the energy-manipulating spell scribed into his left palm were all more than enough to cause the bolt to come to a dead stop without taking any damage. As the bolt fell to the floor, Endrance leveled his gaze upon the mage who had been taking shots at him. He was dressed the same as the others, and was carrying an expensive-looking crossbow. While Endrance hopped over the counter the assassin murmured a few words and did something to the crossbow, and the drawstring snapped back on its own and a bolt appeared in the groove, ready to fire.

The assassin shot again, and the bolt exploded into full size the instant it left the confines of the crossbow. Endrance caught that bolt too, dropping it to the floor. His eyes wide in shock, the mage looked over the battlefield, grit his teeth, and made a run for it.

“Joven!” Endrance called to his ally. “I’m going after him!”

Endrance took off, slipping between onlookers instead of pushing through them. It was faster while his spells were active, which he had been running at full strength since the fight began. Joven started after, opting to shove people aside. He made it only a few steps when a suspicion shot through his mind. Skidding to a stop, the big man turned to look back at the spot where they had fought just moments before.

There was a small spatter of blood, gold-tinted red, where the assassin mage had struck Endrance with the ballista bolt. Someone was crouched at it, scraping an amount of the blood into a small vial.

“Hey!” Joven shouted at the person, who appeared to be wearing a similar black sash but no hood. He gave Joven a grin before turning and running for the nearest alleyway. Joven barreled through the street after the assassin, but when he cornered the alley, the man was gone.

“Endrance!” Joven bellowed. “Endrance! They’ve got your blood!”

Joven turned back towards Endrance’s path, but couldn’t see him. He charged forward anyways. “They’ve got your blood! Endrance!” he called again, hoping that his friend could hear him.

As Joven went after Endrance, a large cadre of city watch arrived to investigate the disturbance. Composed of mostly occupying barbarians, the watch did include some of the regular pre-invasion members who had been neutral about the occupation. The soldiers saw Joven, recognized who he was, and decided that getting in his way was not a good way to end their otherwise successful careers or even lives and let him pass without comment. Cleaning up the mess afterwards was safer for them than trying to apprehend Balen’s brother when he was on a mission.

Already a long way down the road from the ambush site, Endrance did hear that Joven was shouting, but was too preoccupied to tell what it was. He hesitated, considering going back, and in that moment the assailant managed to lose his tail. Endrance found himself standing in a dead-end street, alone for his efforts to chase the mage down. With his equipment impeding his senses he couldn’t detect the man’s power, and with the gloves he was not going to be casting any useful spells soon.

He ran back to Joven, letting the power bleed out of his speed and strength amplifying spellscribing. By the time he found the man he was trotting at normal speed.

“Endrance!” Joven exclaimed. “Did you hear me?”

Shaking his head, Endrance tried to catch his breath. “No.” he said, “Ears ringing, blood pumping. You know.”

“That’s what I’m trying to say!” Joven shot back. “Someone came after you ran off and took some of your blood.”

Endrance straightened, a chill rising up his spine. “That’s… bad.” he muttered. “No amount of armor or wards in the world would stop a spell that uses your blood as a medium.”

“Well, what can we do?” Joven demanded. “Does that mean they’ve got you? They won that easily?”

Endrance shook his head. “It’s going to depend on how fresh it is and what kind of spell they have. But considering how quickly blood stops being–”

That chill coming down his spine spread into a full body chill as he felt something twist within his ribs. Grunting, Endrance dropped to a knee, clutching a hand to his chest. Grimacing, he touched a finger to his still bloodied face. Joven reached down in surprise and caught Endrance’s shoulder, but the mage shook him off.

The spell took full effect quickly, and Endrance almost sagged to the stones, unable to move. Kneeling there in agonizing pain, the burning lines forming in his body made it easy for him to tell what had happened.

The spell was a simple but deadly one. In normal humans it is painful or at worst debilitating, but for mages it was a deadly and excruciatingly painful way to die that could potentially turn them into a weapon. The curse would draw power from his aura through his meridians and into his veins, a process that would burn up human flesh and blood.

Normal humans had so little power in their aura that it would cause crippling pain all over their body for a few minutes and then would be expended. Human mages, however… the amount of power they contained in their aura would be ten times a normal human’s even as an apprentice, much less a fully fledged wizard. But Endrance was no normal human mage. Nor was he completely human.

Endrance! Gullin called to him. What is going on? Summon me to your location!

“Endrance!” Joven shouted. People again backed away but kept eyes on what they saw as yet more barbarian drama unfolding before them. Trying to get control of his breathing, Endrance managed to get enough air in his lungs to gasp out a few desperate words.

“I’ll be fine!” he wheezed, replying both physically and mentally. “Just help me get somewhere safe.”

Chapter Twenty Seven

Joven took Endrance, threw him over his shoulder, and got moving. The exact location wasn’t really important to Endrance so much as what Endrance needed to be focusing on in the meantime. He wasn’t lying when he said he would be fine; but he might have been stretching the truth a bit.

In reality, Endrance didn’t know for certain how dangerous the inversion curse would be to him. Unlike any human mage, Endrance’s Mercanian heritage gave him a body that could handle his power suffusing it. If it didn’t he would have died the first time he started storing power in his nexus meridians. However, that didn’t mean that he was able to handle the power comfortably either. It was possible that he simply had a high level of tolerance towards power, but enough of his aura bled into his flesh would destroy it as it would any human spellcaster.

Focusing, Endrance found he couldn’t stop the curse from directing the flow of power into his bloodstream. The curse had a direct bypass since they used his blood as the targeting medium. The only thing he could do would be to completely disperse his aura, which would effectively pause the curse’s effects until it started regenerating again. However, Endrance was loathe to take such a measure since he had gotten close to refilling his aura now that he knew it wouldn’t break his armor. Dispersing his aura would undo over a week of careful power rationing to fill it as fast as possible while they had been sailing next to the Shatter.

He instead bent his will towards redirecting the power into his recently-formed nexus meridians. He had five of the seven refined now, but only the first two were full. While he focused on it, the power sucking into his body through his aura filtered into the third nexus. It wasn’t perfect, though, and he was struck with a full-body debilitating pain as he worked. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the outside world. He trusted Joven implicitly; the man would keep him safe.

As time passed and Endrance struggled along, he started to get used to the sensation. The pain started to lessen, but even if it had completely subsided Endrance would have wanted to end the curse anyways. It was practically impossible to cast a spell while one’s power was out of their control. He couldn’t use his hands to shape a spell-form, nor lend power to his voice to speak the right words. He couldn’t even control his spellscribing at the moment; those spells carved into his flesh would be unstable while his power was bleeding into the flesh around his meridians.

He felt his body get jostled about, including his head and feet bumping against stuff. It felt like Joven was moving at a very fast pace.  He almost opened his eye to check on the situation, but since it didn’t seem that Joven had dropped him, Endrance just assumed that the man was trying to navigate tight corridors while they were moving. He wasn’t hurt by it, since his aurichalcum armor made him practically invulnerable to casual impacts.

Continuing his focus, Endrance started to see a small change in his physiology. He had really only focused on his meridians while he had been training, and so they were the most developed and responsive of his body when it came to working magic. That much was something every wizard worked on during their career. What was happening to Endrance was different, though, and he was only now starting to understand fully what was going on.

Normal humans whose bodies weren’t compatible with magical power, or quintessence as the Mercanians referred to it, burned when it entered their flesh. Their meridians could channel the energies in a way they could control, but even small amounts would burn them. Strengthening their meridians so they could handle more power wasn’t actually anything like training their muscles. It was more like building up enough scarring on the inside of their meridians that the power flowing through them would be resisted by thicker, pain-resistant channels. The damage to their bodies was transformative in the long run, but too much power in the short term would only destroy their bodies.

Since he was actually able to heal faster when his flesh was supplied with power, then the curse was simply making him use too much at once. It hurt at first because for the most part, the bulk of his body was not used to being suffused with power like a pure-blooded Mercanian was. He couldn’t help but smile faintly. He had thought the assassin had surely killed him, but now that he was experiencing it, the enemy had in fact given him a powerful tool.

Crack. Endrance’s broken nose straightened on its own, startling him. The regenerating effect was stronger the more power that was infusing his body. Before, it would only repair damage to his skin and muscles as long as he rested. With how it was working now, Endrance realized he was regenerating even bone and cartilage damage while under stress.

In addition, now that he was relaxing his control over the flow of quintessence, his spells engraved into his flesh stabilized. The spells that were simply tattooed on the skin weren’t working, but it did mean that his most often-used spells would work again. In fact, with the way power was flowing into him, Endrance wasn’t able to completely shut them off at the moment. While he was taking stock, he felt himself absorb a stream of power, followed by another. Joven must be having some difficulty finding a safe place for them to lay low. Endrance was getting a vague impression from the faint imprints that they resented the mage.

Endrance felt himself get jostled again, and mentally sighed. He guessed he was done sorting himself out for the moment, and opened his eye. He didn’t expect to see the world whipping around violently.

Joven was holding Endrance in one arm, while engaged in combat with what looked like a large contingent of black sash-wearing assailants. Five fighters were up close with obviously enchanted slashing blades, while another twelve were hanging back, preparing spells and firing them off in staggered patterns. There were another half-dozen corpses littering the area, all assassin mages.

Endrance took quick stock from his violently moving, limited perspective. They were in some kind of open plaza that stood in the shade of Fini’s outer walls. Carved stone decorations provided all kinds of cover for the mages, while Joven had been driven into the center of the space.

While Endrance was taking stock, Joven twisted as he avoided a sword strike, twirling Endrance around like some kind of log he was hauling around. Endrance’s vision shook and he heard a loud CLUNK as the top of his helmet struck someone in the face.

“Joven, are you using me as a bludgeon?” Endrance asked, flailing. Joven hesitated.

“Uhh,” the big man grunted, surveying the odds. He was coated in a sheen of sweat, and a number of blackened spots and cuts on Joven’s skin told Endrance everything he needed to know about how persistent the enemy had been. “Maybe?”

Endrance dropped out of his friend’s grip, landing on one knee and both hands. His sudden change in status caused the attackers to pause and assess the situation. Standing, Endrance turned to look them over.

“I assume you’re part of Weldom’s faction.” Endrance called out. There was no verbal response, but the mages in the back exchanged a concerned glance. “So what did I do to him to warrant the man cursing me?”

One of the mages pulled something out of his robe and looked at it with incredulity on his face. An amulet on an iron chain held a ruby gem cut into a droplet that glowed with inner light. He looked back up at Endrance, and seemed to be trying to make sense of things.

Gotcha… Endrance thought. It was the man whom Joven had seen stealing Endrance’s blood.

Turning his head slightly towards Joven, Endrance addressed Joven. “Need a break?” he asked.

“I’m good, but if you want in on the fun, I guess I can let you fight a few. You up for it?” the big man replied.

“Kill them!” the one with the amulet screamed. “He can’t cast spells, so just pin him down and strip that stupid fucking armor off him!”

Endrance rolled his eye. He noticed something as he did so, but it wasn’t the time to investigate it. Instead, Endrance flashed forwards, his fist extended. Amplified by his speed and strength spells, his strike caught one of the five swordsmen off guard. His gauntleted hand crushed through the man’s ribs and went inside, only the layer of silk robe the man had been wearing keeping Endrance from getting gore all over his glove. A stream of golden wind was sucked out of the body, and Endrance pulled it into him with his next inhalation.

Part of him still felt sickened by the sudden violence; he hadn’t exactly expected to be that strong. His intent had been to send his opponent flying into one of the long distance mages and disrupt their spellcasting. However, it was too late to stop now and panic over killing the man. He had no chance to deal with the imprint he had just gained, so he filed it entirely away in one of his mental holding cells.

Joven drew his truesilver short swords, taking two of the swordsmen on at the same time while the other two surviving went after Endrance. Their own spells had improved their speed, and perhaps would have been a difficult opponent for Endrance to face without a weapon.

The man Endrance had just killed sagged to the ground as the wizard yanked his fist free of the man’s chest cavity. His other hand caught the sword the man had been carrying and yanked it free. Endrance skipped backwards to avoid the two attackers while he adjusted his grip on the sword to use it properly. It was some kind of cutlass or scimitar, but Endrance hadn’t learn much about swords except how he was supposed to hold them.

Similarly, Endrance didn’t know how to fight with a sword very well. He had some practice now from that week of training at Leona’s, so he wasn’t fumbling with it at least. He swung the sword in an arc as the two slipped into range, causing them to lean back out of the way of his swing. Endrance continued forwards instead of trying to get some range, throwing his shoulder into the one on the right. The man crossed his arms at the last second, cushioning the blow and going skidding back several feet. The one on Endrance’s left jabbed at him but without doing more than leaving a small scratch on the left breast of his jacket.

Endrance switched hands on the sword, putting it into his right. He was pleased to see that the grip included bands of metal that connected to the sword’s tang. His lightning spell was constantly running using the tiniest fraction of his maximum strength, but it wasn’t enough output to actually project electricity, but with the sword in his hand, the spell conducted into the blade.

The one on his left swung at Endrance again, and Endrance met the assassin’s blade with his own without fear of losing the clash. Their blades met, and there was a momentary flash of light as the electrical energies channeled into the blade blasted down the opponent’s sword in an instant. The man’s eyes lost focus for a second and reeled, which gave Endrance the opening he needed to drive his weapon into the man’s chest. Convulsing, the body sprayed blood as it fell to the floor. Endrance saw another cloud of golden wind rush from the body into his lungs.

The other assassin hadn’t been lounging around while Endrance got more powerful, though. As Endrance pulled the sword free, the attacker had closed in distance and took a swing at Endrance’s neck toward the thin gap between the bottom rim of the helmet and the top rim of Endrance’s raised collar. His attack was close, but the edge of his weapon skittered across the aurichalcum helmet’s raised rim.

Twisting, Endrance slashed out at the guy who clipped him. The enemy shifted enough to get out of the way of Endrance’s saber, lunging in after his swing to stab at Endrance’s face. The armored mage swayed back and brought up his sword to parry the hit, and the brief contact of blades sent a shock into the assassin’s arm.

Endrance lunged forward while the man was very briefly stunned, and slashed with the saber at the man’s chest. The weapon sliced open the man’s silk robe and crackled with electricity, but wasn’t a deep enough hit to kill his opponent. The man retaliated, throwing a punch that shot past his guard and hit him in the cheek. The cheek guard of his helmet absorbed almost all the blow, but it had the secondary effect of disrupting Endrance’s sight as his head jerked to the side.

While Endrance and Joven were in the thick of it, the other mages weren’t just sitting around watching. Coordinating together, the group cast their spells in the long-form while their melee comrades fought to the death to buy them time. Completing their spells, a dozen mages shouted the last words of power while pointing in Endrance and Joven’s direction.

Volleys of scintillating magic blasts, bolts of lightning, and even a thick stream of lava erupted towards them. Joven had spotted the volley as soon as it was sent his way, and juked to the side so that one of his opponents was in the way. The other man he was fighting flung himself to the floor to avoid the torrential onslaught of spells, but his partner was caught unprepared and was blown apart before he even knew what was happening.

Endrance was facing his opponent when the man’s face went pale with shock. He leapt away from Endrance, who then turned to look behind him just in time to get caught in the face with a stream of lava. His wards flashed with the hit, but thankfully he was not harmed by the heat due to Gullin’s contract with him. He did discover that lava was very uncomfortable to get in his eye, and the stuff that got caught in his mouth tasted like very hot dirt with an aftertaste of sulfur.

Spinning from the hit, Endrance coughed and gagged, rubbing at his face to try to peel the molten stone from his face. His opponent actually couldn’t get to him right away as the lava spray had left globs of burning stone all over the ground around Endrance, but he expected Endrance to be taken out so he turned to aid the last remaining man fighting Joven.

Staggering, Endrance managed to get his face cleared and cough out the remaining molten stone, but was unable to see or sense the second volley of spells that were targeting him. Something else collided with him, slamming him against one of the stone decorative hedge planters. Endrance had dropped his recently acquired sword, and it had been destroyed by the splattering lava in the area.

Seeing that it was more effective than most of the other spells being used, the mages targeting Endrance switched to using the same kind of attack spell, launching more and more red-hot lava at Endrance. Multiple spells slapped against his armor, quickly covering him in burning rock.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed to breathe, Endrance would have liked the amount of separation that the layers of rock were giving him. Absurdly, a small thought in the back of his mind wondered if all this metal-melting heat would blacken his beautiful pristinely white coat.

Activating his element-manipulating spell engraved on his left hand, Endrance gathered up some power and pushed it through the palm of his hand as he stood up. The lava had grown to be several feet thick, so his enemies had not been able to sense he was still alive by that point and assumed that even if Endrance wasn’t dead, he was at least out of the fight.

The sudden explosion of lava caught his enemies off guard, spraying them with sheets of violently ejected molten stone. Several of the closest mages went down screaming, though a few in the back — including the leader — managed to bring up shields in time to protect themselves. As Endrance surveyed the damage, he saw that only four of the twelve mages remained alive.

“Blech!” Endrance shouted, scowling. “That tasted awful. I understand you’re trying to kill me but I didn’t know you wanted to subject me to torture too!”

“What the—” The leader exclaimed. “How the hell are you so resistant to our spells? What is that armor made of?”

Endrance couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, that?” he replied cockily, “That’s just aurichalcum. Made it myself. You know, for the 8th sigil? Crafting mastery?”

He looked over the four mages, who were staring at him with no idea what he was talking about. “You guys are what, 5th sigil mages of the Circle?” he asked. “You have to— you know what? It doesn’t matter.”

Endrance charged his lightning spell with a sudden burst of power and jabbed his hand forwards, first two fingers pointing at the leader. A string-thin beam of blinding white light seemed to just appear between Endrance and his target. Though the leader managed to redirect his shield spell to catch the ray, the shield was nowhere near powerful enough to defeat it and survive. The beam shattered the defensive spell and punched a clean inch-wide hole through the man’s chest.

Behind the man, Fini’s outer wall suffered a catastrophic explosion, annihilating it. Endrance’s spell blasted a hole clear through a twenty-foot thick wall of multiple layers of stone and earth. It was only a foot across on the inside wall, but the outside was almost ten feet in diameter. Beyond the wall, the ray continued out until it disappeared out of sight.

Though Endrance’s fingers went numb from pushing his spell to the limits, he didn’t regret doing so. He had no way of knowing how strong the man’s defenses were because of his armor. Regretfully, he had to err on the side of caution and assume all enemies were stronger than he would expect. And these were assassins trained by one of the runner ups for Archmagus. His engraved spells were some of his most refined and efficiently-designed in his arsenal, so the lightning spell was one of his most powerful attacks. At full strength, it boasted impressive penetrating power.

As the leader fell, Endrance shifted, firing his lightning spell several times in quick succession. He only used a tenth as much power as he had against the leader, since he didn’t want to completely destroy Fini’s walls and the land beyond. The blasts of lightning looked more like jagged bolts instead of beams since they weren’t being ejected with much force. The bolts exploded against the mage’s shields, sending them stumbling back.

“Gods!” One of the mages cried out. “Is he going to run out of power?”

“He must have used most of it on the boss!” A different man in the trio called back. “These bolts are easier to manage!”

Endrance fired another volley of lightning, walking forwards as he did so. With each shot he fired he put slightly more power into the spell. The bolts struck harder and harder, and Endrance was able to break their shield spell at roughly one fifth his maximum capacity. The mages Endrance fought were having trouble handling his assault; they weren’t getting time to even sling spells since Endrance could direct a new lightning bolt immediately after the last one had left his fingers without delay. The most they could do was spend the seconds after their shield broke to sling out a new one.

With only three targets, Endrance was able to walk in a diagonal direction so that he could keep the mages all within his line of sight. He had a plan in mind, and the enemy seemed to be falling into his machinations. The one closest to Endrance realized he was getting closer to him than the others and moved to the side while putting everything he could into his shield spell. The other two quickly moved behind that mage, using the one shield to protect them while they cast spells.

This was exactly what Endrance was hoping they’d do. Their movements put them all roughly in a line.

While the two cast their spells in long-form, Endrance grinned. The mage maintaining the shield saw Endrance’s smile, and recognized the positioning would put them between Endrance and the already existing hole in the outer walls.

“Scatt—” the shield-caster started to scream, his cry interrupted by Endrance’s full power lightning blast. The thin ray of pure electrical energy pierced through his shield as if it wasn’t even there, cutting a thin hole through him, piercing a fist-sized hole through the mage behind him, and blasting the third mage into a shower of smoking gore before departing out the same hole in the wall as before.

Later that day, General Balen would be given reports of lightning traversing the skies sideways. It eventually struck a mountainside and set the surrounding forests ablaze. The event was blamed on mages in general, of course, and was otherwise ignored since it didn’t seem to happen more than twice. From his experience with mages, Balen assumed once was a fluke, twice was them confirming that was the effect they were aiming for. If it happened more than that, then intervention was necessary.

Endrance turned to glance in Joven’s direction. His companion was standing between the two fighters, his swords drawn and holding their blades at bay. Well, except for the fact that all three of them had hesitated to continue fighting, instead staring at Endrance in awe.

Raising his right hand, Endrance blew smoke off the tips of his gloved fingers. “So, you two wanna surrender?” he asked.

Both men dropped their swords and raised their hands.

Joven sheathed his weapons and dragged the two living captives over to Endrance. “Okay you two were pretty fun to fight.” Joven said. “For mages, at least.”

“Uh…” one replied.

Endrance sighed. “So two questions, and I’ll let you go. Alive even.” he said. Holding up one finger, he asked a question. “First, why?”

“Why are we trying to kill you?” the one on the left asked.

The one on the right grimaced. “Or why did we surrender?”

“Just… clarifying.” the left one continued.

Endrance gave them a tired look. “While I know Weldom’s not a fan of me, we weren’t actual enemies, you know?”

“But that’s entirely why.” The one on the left said. “You are our enemy.”

“It’s whispered that you’re Talos’ apprentice, and he’s been grooming you to take over the Circle.” the right man added. “Weldom’s not about to let some rookie guide the Circle of Magi; you’re just going to bring ruin to everything that we’ve built up.”

Endrance pinched the bridge of his nose without taking off his helmet. “So let me get this straight,” he asked. “Your master was worried that I would take over the Circle of Magi. That I’ve had very little contact with, much less influence on. And in that worry he sent almost two dozen mages after me, to lose their lives.” Endrance sighed. “Sounds like he’s done more damage to the Circle than I could.”

“Uh.” the left mage muttered. “You’ve got me there.”

The ramifications of their behavior and Endrance’s subsequent elimination of the attacking force could be blamed on Endrance, of course. However, most of Fini had weeks of the mages rampaging through the city trying to find Endrance and causing far more disruption than Endrance ever did, even with a giant firebird in his cadre. Weldom would be hard-pressed to spin this as anything but a failed attempt at assassinating a younger member of the Circle.

“Question two.” Endrance held up a second finger. “Will you please tell me who’s left of your group and where I can find them?” he asked with a false smile.

The answer to that question was remarkably short but to the point. The two men were knocked unconscious and left tied up amidst the dead bodies and wrecked stone. Endrance only briefly stopped to pick up the amulet the leader of the assassination team had been carrying.

The item was sustaining the inversion curse, and through a continual link to Endrance’s blood, the curse would continue until he ran out of power or died. Turning it over in his hands, Endrance held it out to Joven.

“Do you mind?” Endrance asked. Joven, who had been wiping the soot from his damaged clothes, shrugged and took the amulet in one hand. Still wiping himself down with the other hand, Joven casually crushed the amulet in his grip, dropping a small trickle of ground gemstone and crumpled metals.

The curse flared up for a split second, but then the power that fueled it bled out. Within seconds, Endrance was no longer being affected by any foreign magic.

“Whew.” Endrance muttered. “Well that’s done. Ready to move on?”

“What about the assassins?” Joven asked. “Or the city?”

Endrance surveyed the area. “It seems to me,” he started, “That the city will be busy dealing with the mess that these people made trying to commit a murder on their land. As for you and I, my friend, we’ve got two stops to make before heading back.”

“Got it.”

“Oh, what happened to that guy with the magic crossbow?” Endrance asked.

Joven chuckled. “That was the first time you bumped your head.” he explained. Joven showed that the crossbow was slung on his back from a strap. “It looked so nice, I didn’t want to leave it just sitting there.”

They left the plaza, walking through a group of city guards who had been standing back watching for several minutes. They had arrived sometime before Endrance had joined the fight in the plaza, but had been hanging as far back as they could because of how much elemental chaos was flying around in the area. The fact that one barbarian could walk out of a maelstrom with little more than minor cuts and bruises only contributed to their feeling that this entire situation was ‘someone else’s problem’.

****

There was only one more mage in the city working for Weldom. The mage was an older woman who served as a communication relay for the teams and their master. Endrance and Joven were able to capture her without much trouble, but not before she managed to summon a messenger to warn Weldom that her teams had failed. After some discussion, Joven forced her to summon a new messenger and send something of his own to Weldom.

“We aren’t interested in the damn Archmagus.” Joven growled to the messenger, who would relay his words perfectly. “So back the fuck off or I will put my boot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather for the rest of your life.”

The big man seemed pleased that he had managed to intimidate a magical construct. The thing flew off with a terrified expression on its face.

“See?” Joven asked Endrance, punching the female mage in the face and knocking her out. “That wasn’t so hard.”

“Okay.” Endrance pulled off his helmet and gloves and wiped his face with a cloth. “Let me check something, and then we’ll get back to that glassblower of yours.”

Reaching up, Endrance firmly took his eyepatch and pried it off his face. There was an odd sucking sound and a sensation of negative pressure in his eye socket, but after a bit more effort the eyepatch finally came off. It was almost as if something had jammed it onto his face, which Endrance figured happened when that enlarged crossbow bolt knocked him down.

Except, when he pulled the eyepatch off, things felt different. The strange, softly crackling green flame that normally burned within his eye socket was gone. The shadows that normally hung around the flame were gone too, revealing a clean and healthy but otherwise empty eye socket. That oddness he had felt earlier during the battle had been the absence of the flame crackling in his head.

“It’s… gone!” Endrance exclaimed, grinning. “That flame is gone!”

“Hey!” Joven cheered. “You’re cured of that thing she did… what did she do, anyways?”

Shaking his head, Endrance frowned. “Well, I was kinda hoping that I’d be able to regenerate the eye, but I guess that didn’t happen.” he said. “I guess Valeria’s curse really did destroy the eye, not just convert it. Whatever she did was some kind of death curse that would have exploded and killed me or turned me into a litch or something.”

“Brutal.” Joven commented, nodding appreciatively. “Well, now we can just put a fake eye in there and no one will know the difference.”

“I actually have that already in hand. Picked up this during our last visit to Balator.” Endrance piped back, chuckling. Going through his bag, Endrance pulled out a piece of Crystalphage that had been cut into a multi-faceted sphere just a little smaller than a human eye. Holding up the eyepatch, he touched the inner curved surface to the Crystalphage gem and triggered the last of the protective effects he had made in the eyepatch.

“Final formation.” the wizard murmured, activating the last of the item’s worked-in spells.

The truesilver eyepatch seemed to take on a liquid quality, flowing over the gem. The circles and arcane script squirmed on the surface, but didn’t dissolve. Instead they shifted and flowed until all of the intricate spellwork formed what looked like a complex iris and pupil. When completed, the metal eyepatch instead looked like a truesilver eye hovering just over the surface of Endrance’s palm.

Calmly, Endrance popped the eyeball into his empty eye socket. The sphere adjusted to fit perfectly, and the script forming the iris revolved around a Crystalphage lens that was the pupil. As it adjusted, Endrance felt spikes of pain, pressure, and cold, but let the spells work their magic. He was slightly concerned about the spells being flawed since he had built them while Valeria was still in his head, but nothing unexpected happened. It would have been too easy for him to spot tampering on such a specifically-designed item.

Eventually the cold, pain, and pressure faded, and his field of vision expanded again. Closing his natural eye, Endrance was pleased to see his artifact eye was not only as good, but even better than the organic one in many ways. While the effects that drained away necromantic energy were useless to him now, the ability to visualize auras, see further than normal, and see in the dark without having to rely on an imprint would be excellent.

“You made a magic eyeball.” Joven stated. “That’s… nice.”

Laughing, Endrance shook his head. “That’s not what it is!” he protested. “Well, it is, but that’s not what it was originally intended to do. It was originally meant to contain the green flame thing that Valeria put in my head.”

“Oh, so it would make a bubble around that green fire.” Joven stated.

Endrance nodded. “A containment cell, yeah, but since the flame’s gone, I can now use this Crystalphage as the core and keep it in this mode pretty much permanently.”

“Neat.” Joven said. “Can you see out of it?”

Endrance nodded again. Joven simply let out an appreciative whistle. “None of the magic absorption or containment contingencies will work anymore now that I’ve activated the transformation, so I’m stuck with it like this no matter what. But, the vision enhancements still work, and the eye has its own reserve of power now there’s a Crystalphage core, so it doesn’t even tax me to use it.”

It only took them another hour to get the rest of their supplies. It seemed that their presence was now known throughout the city, and no one particularly wanted to stop them from doing their business. The glass effigies of the different elements were already packed up and ready for Endrance to take by the time they arrived.

Sorting their involvement out with the city watch and barbarian overlords was simple; Joven just told them to report it to his brother and leave them alone. General Balen could handle this kind of mess, certainly.

Something told Endrance that if they survived this journey, Joven was going to get chewed out by his brother over the events in Fini.

With everything in hand, there was only one last step to take: placing the imprint on the Mercanian’s body.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Endrance had the perfect place in mind to perform the ritual he had researched. High up on a mountainside not too far from the village Endrance had spent his youth lay a ruined tower. The last time he had been there, Endrance had been taking Kaelob’s graduation test. Endrance’s portal deposited him and his comrades outside the tower, near the shattered ballista and their dragon-hunting bolts.

“It’s a little run down.” Endrance observed. “But I think I can fix it up.”

Endrance had stripped out of his armor and wore only some light clothing. Selene, Tanya, Bridget, and Gullin looked around curiously, but Joven simply stood next to Endrance, the blond woman’s body draped over his shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “This feels kinda wrong, you know.”

Endrance shook his head. “Anna is the only imprint I have that I’d be willing to work with if it works. Do you want me to use Kalenden instead?”

Joven waved his free hand in front of his face. “Oh Gods no. Just… You promise this won’t hurt her, right?”

Endrance shook his head. “I can’t promise it won’t hurt,” he said. “I can promise I’ll do everything I can to make sure she doesn’t suffer needlessly.” He paused. “She’s looking forward to seeing you again.”

Focusing, Endrance started working on a spell. It was one of the spells that he had no shortened form of, since it was only useful in situations where he could take his time anyways. Completing the spell, Endrance knelt down and touched the foundation of the tower. “Terrastratus.” he intoned the final word of power.

The tower shuddered suddenly, snow shaking free from the loose edges before the rest started to melt. Fallen blocks of stone, collapsed stairs, and more started to move on their own. The fallen debris of the tower started to reassemble itself, blocks of stone rising up to slam into place. More rock erupted out of the mountainside around them, shedding dirt as they flew into place. Dirt and snow melded together to form some kind magically transmuted mortar.

Within a scant 10 minutes, the tower had been completely restored. It stood tall enough to match the peak of its mountain foundation. Tanya applauded when the last touch, some banners, unfurled from the window sills.

“Wow.” Bridget stated. “Maybe you should quit this wizard business and get into construction after all. You’re almost as good at making stuff as you are destroying it!”

“Thanks, I think.” Endrance replied. “Let’s get inside. There should be a room near the top we can use.”

Shrinking Gullin down to hawk size, Endrance led the way inside. The upper floors of the tower were exactly what he had hoped. He needed a place that was isolated, had a strong tie to the elements, and held personal significance to the spellcaster. That tower was exposed to wind and cold, surrounded by stone, and with some of the materials they brought, would also have fire. It was also a historical site that Endrance had a personal tie to, not only because he repaired it, but that his career had effectively started there.

They set up the materials exactly as Endrance requested, placing six braziers around the center of the circular room equidistant to each other. Once those were fueled and lit, Endrance let the wind and snow in from the windows as Joven laid the body in the center. The woman was still alive, since Endrance had made sure she still had quintessence to fuel her body.

She was dressed in minimal clothing, just a strap of cotton over her chest and matching cotton underwear. She was as ready as she could ever be. Endrance took a few minutes to review everything, while the group hung back, watching. As she lay there, unmoving, Endrance pricked his finger with a knife and started drawing arcane script on her abdomen.

“Once I start the ritual, we cannot get interrupted.” Endrance declared. “No matter what. I don’t care if a mage attacks or even a dragon lands on the roof. If I get interrupted mid-process, both Anna and I may die.”

“We know,” Bridget replied grumpily. “We know.”

“It’s not as… red as I expected.” Selene commented, staring at Endrance’s blood. “Looks kinda like gold paint.”

“Yeah, that’s a thing now I guess.” Endrance commented. “I guess I’m more of a yellow shade now instead of pink, huh?”

Joven squinted at Endrance. “You’re looking more naturally tan, I guess. But you’d have to call attention to it for anyone to notice.”

Selene sniffed. “Your blood smells amazing, though.” she commented. “Like… some kind of incense that happens to have blood as a component.”

“You’re probably just picking up the quintessence in my blood.” Endrance replied, “How’s your demonside doing?”

“We’re doing great!” Selene replied cheerfully. “It’s getting easier to keep control when I stop suppressing the demonic traits.”

“Good.” Endrance smiled at her. “Then I’ll need you to stand there and switch into hybrid form.” he explained, pointing to a specific point.

Her cheer froze, not exactly slipping. “How… long?” She asked, concerned.

Endrance finished drawing symbols on the body. “Well, until the ritual is over.” he explained, walking over to her. “You are the only one here besides me who has connections with another realm. I can’t use Gullin because he’s more useful in the fire position.”

“The demon realm.” Selene murmured. Endrance nodded.

“You’re going to be the representation of otherworldly realms.” Endrance explained. “Everyone else will be holding an elemental icon, so it has to be you.”

Selene looked into Endrance’s eyes, and his living eye was considering her warmly. He was relying on her, and she didn’t need to feel her soul binding with him to know he was being honest. Her ability actually made her a vital part of his calculations.

“I’ll do it.” she said, taking her position. Her hair shifted to a shade of purple, growing two spiral horns of the same color from her head in the process. Her eyes changed to blood red and square-pupiled, and her fingernails and lip turned ink black. Black leathery wings sprouted from her back, and a long whiplike spade-tipped tail peeked out from under the hem of her dress.

Turning to Tanya, Endrance held out to her the glass icon of wind. “You’ll represent the air.” he said. “Bridget represents water. Joven will represent earth. Gullin will you get out of that brazier and represent fire please?”

The Fjallar huffed before fluttering to the fire position. Very well. Gullin replied. Can I at least be a little bit bigger?

Endrance silently increased Gullin’s size to that of a large condor. Once everyone was in position, Endrance nodded. “Okay, time for me to test this theory of mine.”

“Theory?” Bridget asked. “I thought you had this planned out.”

Endrance eyed her, making sure she didn’t get out of position. “The magic is sound.” the wizard explained. “It’s what it means if this works that I’m concerned about.”

Endrance started the ritual, standing at the foot of the table. Touching one of the marks he had made on the woman’s foot, Endrance set everything in motion. He traced the spell with his fingertip as he walked around the table in a circle, intoning the difficult words of power with careful precision and enunciation. Not only were they already hard to pronounce perfectly, they were also words of power Endrance had hardly encountered, much less used personally. He would have been completely incapable of doing the spell if he hadn’t all the compiled education of multiple mages.

He walked around the table fully five times, as he did so the different points containing an elemental representation illuminated. Light brightened as he completed his passes, until at the end of his fifth rotation they all gleamed like bonfires. Lastly, he finished one last half-circle, coming to a stop at the woman’s head. He raised his hands above her head as his spell came to a conclusion.

In-between his hands, magical energy started to crystalize, forming into a glowing spike infused with memory and will. From each of the five points his companions stood, the lights that engulfed them flowed into the object in Endrance’s hands.

When he finished uttering the last word of power, the crystalized spike flashed blue-white. Without hesitation, Endrance drove the spike down. The weapon penetrated into the skull without resistance, without even drawing blood.

Endrance found then that he couldn’t release his grip on the spike. Within his mind, he felt Anna’s presence react to the magic. Her imprint seemed to leave his library of the mind, flowing down his neck and up his arms. Alongside a large portion of his power, everything of Anna that he had preserved seemed to bleed out of him. Memories of hers were disappearing from his head in a surprisingly painless process, though it did feel strange to have memories disappearing instead of being added to his psyche.

Apparently, both he and the body he was imbuing with Anna’s imprint were now screaming. The body was showing signs of pain for the first time since they found it, and Endrance’s cry was from how mentally taxing the spell was on him. The woman’s body flailed her arms and legs, thrusting up with her hips when her feet found purchase, but her head was firmly anchored to that spot on the table so she couldn’t get very far. Fingertips twitched but couldn’t find the coordination to grab at what was stabbing her in the head. One eye opened, looking around wildly, while the other hung half-open and gazed listlessly.

Panic was overtaking Endrance. Anna’s imprint was completely leaving his mind. He had gone through the trouble of making a mental copy of her imprint, and even had researched the magic enough to feel confident that the ritual would only put the copy in the body. However, there had been a clause in the magic he had not considered. Endrance had not even considered that he might actually have Anna’s soul with him.

As far as he could tell, everything in his head was just an imprint, a copy made by the unique flow of magical energy that he absorbed from the people who died when close to him. He wasn’t even a full Mercanian, so Endrance was dead certain his ability was somehow lesser than that of his progenitors. Surely Albegraniel had been just twisting words around, or using prose.

He had been wrong.

Valeria’s experimentations with human-Mercanian fertility had included magics that ensured certain traits had been inherited. But something unique had come from his odd mixed heritage: while Mercanians could absorb another Mercanian’s mind upon death, Endrance could absorb almost any sentient creature’s memories. And since the Mercanian mindset was so set in immortality, the concept of the soul was hardly explored. Not for them, at least; they knew souls existed since it was what made humans so valuable as sacrifices.

The spell couldn’t be retracted, nor could he cancel it mid-sequence. The last of Anna’s imprint drained from him, and the crystal in his hands seemed to melt away from his grip, freeing him. As he staggered back, the crystal spike in the woman’s head continued to melt until it was completely gone. There was no injury left behind, except for an odd symbol on the forehead that faded away instantly. All pain and activity left the body, and she fell back into the same serene calm that she had before they had done the ritual.

The energies of the ritual dispersed, and the group relaxed, the tension draining from their bodies as they all came forwards to see the results. Except for Gullin, who instead sat on one of the braziers and preened.

Joven helped Endrance steady. The five of them stood around the table, looking at the body for any sign that Anna was there.

The woman’s blue eyes opened. Her gaze flicked around the room, then down at herself without moving her head.

“I’m… alive?” Anna asked, slowly moving her head to gaze at Endrance. She winced. “Oh, headache.” she murmured.

There was a collective cheer from the group, but Endrance remained silent as he went through all the double-checks he could think of. Nothing told him she was an impostor, though, so he would have to accept it.

“Yeah, you did just get impaled in the forehead.” Selene said sympathetically, working with Bridget to help her sit up.

“Oh, that must be it.” She replied. Then Bridget drew Anna into a fierce hug, followed by Tanya and then Selene. The four women held each other, tears flowing down their faces. Joven hovered nearby, but other than looking a little misty-eyed he seemed content to be at hand. Anna, for what it was worth, smiled patiently and patted Bridget’s back and gave Endrance an appreciative look.

When they finally disengaged, Bridget wiped a tear from her eye. “You’re looking pretty good for being dead for several years.” she prompted. “Do you need us to catch you up?”

Anna slowly shook her head. “No. I still have everything that I experienced inside Endrance’s head.” she replied, looking her body over. “Huh, the body’s proportions are all different.”

“Your boobs are smaller too.” Selene added.

“Selene!” Tanya chided.

Anna merely smirked and pat Selene’s head. “You more than make up for the loss, Selene.” she jested. Selene’s eyes widened at being jabbed back at. “And I see you’re handling your mixed heritage much better since the last time we were together.”

Turning to Tanya, Anna gave her a smile. “You’re the one they got to fill my absence, huh?”

Tanya gave her an uncertain look. “Yeah, I guess.” she said, feeling awkward.

Anna shook her head again. “Don’t fret it!” she assured her companion. “You’re a valid member of Endrance’s team, you’ve grown out of being a replacement a long time ago. The fact he’s done so much for you and your family says that you’re a part of our family, no matter how uncertain you might feel.”

“How do you feel, Anna?” Endrance asked, concerned. “Physically?”

Sliding off the table, Anna almost fell to the floor, but with Selene and Bridget supporting her, she was able to stay upright. She checked her balance, wriggled her toes, and tilted her head side to side before turning to face the wizard.

“I gotta be honest with you, Endrance.” Anna replied. “Everything feels so strange. I haven’t had a body in a long time, but this doesn’t even feel alive to me. I feel…?”

“Your new body is Mercanian.” Endrance replied. “For the most part it will operate like your old one did, but since it lives off magical power instead of life essence, it will take some adjusting to.”

Anna took a few steps. “This is strange.” she says. “I have to think more about moving my body. Like, I’m not able to do any of this automatically. Lift leg, shift weight forwards, put foot down, support weight, lift back leg… That’s really different.”

“You were dead for years moving around as a thought-form.” he explained. “You’ll have to re-learn how to move it, like you were a baby. You’ll also need to learn how to respire in quintessence, otherwise you’ll starve.”

“Yeah. Give me a few days. I’ll be outrunning you in no time.” Anna replied, giving him a smile. “I’m glad I could be back in time to help you. I wish I could have returned under better circumstances.”

“But the point is that you’re back.” Joven said. “And you’re here now. I’m a little worried about your new body, but with a few days of physical training, you should be good as new.”

Anna shook her head, smiling sadly. “Unfortunately, that’s not going to help me.” she said.

“She is in a pure-blooded Mercanian body… unlike me, she won’t regrow stronger muscle tissue.” Endrance added. “They only restore to a default state when healing. The whole muscle building thing is kind of a cheat that only half-breeds seem to be able to use.”

Joven looked actually depressed. “Oh.” he replied. “Damn.”

Anna giggled. “Once I get this body working one hundred percent, I’ll gladly do some sparring with you to remind myself how to fight.”

She shivered. “Why is it so cold?” Anna asked, wrapping her arms around her slender frame.

Endrance sighed. “Your body’s never been used to the chill.” he said. “Let’s get back to the others, and we’ll get you dressed and let you spend time getting acquainted with your new form.”

“Wait, does this mean…?” Bridget asked, turning to Endrance. “It worked, right? Do you still have a copy of her up there?” she pointed at Endrance’s head.

The mage shook his head, his anxiety over that portion of the ritual coming to the fore. “No, it seems that the ritual took the true Anna from my consciousness.” he explained, tapping his temple. “She’s gone from here, but I still have a copy so to speak.” he smiled sheepishly. “Since I have my own memories of when I reviewed her imprint from beginning to end. Kind of a weird back door to knowing what she knows, but no, her actual personality is gone from my mind.”

He paused. “It’s kind of lonely now,” he stated. “Feels more like she’s really gone now than I had felt in years.”

Excuse me. Gullin said in Endrance’s head. What am I, then? Chopped chicken?

Gullin, you’re always a welcome companion. Endrance replied. And Anna cannot replace you, nor could you replace her…

I see. The bird replied, sounding stuffy. Endrance was going to have to spend more time with his familiar, or else he’d never hear the end of it.

“Time to go.” Joven said. “Endrance we should get going. Time’s gonna run out if we keep going off on these little…”

“Side quests?” Endrance asked, winking with his newly created eye.

“Oh, that eye looks really weird.” Anna observed. “I never got to see what it looked like from the outside.”

“Yeah we’re all still getting used to it.” Bridget replied. “I think he looked better with the eyepatch.”

Endrance chuckled, “Peripheral vision, ladies.” he replied, slashing upon a portal. “I’m enjoying being able to look in directions other than straight ahead.”

Chapter Twenty Nine

Valzoa was pleased to see that the body they had been carting around had returned as an actual person. That night, much was discussed around the dinner table, including Anna doing introductions to the people she never actually met in person. She was uniquely familiar with them, since she had experienced them by proxy through Endrance’s eyes, but never got to actually talk with more than just Selene.

That night, their bunk room was a disorganized mess. They had barely enough room for their whole coterie, but now that they needed to also include belongings for Anna, there was a bit of a space shortage. Anna resolved the issue by putting her stuff on her bunk and trying to crawl into Endrance’s bed. Which spurred Selene to do so too, which meant that in the end Endrance was the one sleeping on the floor after it was pretty much proven that the small bunks couldn’t handle three people, much less anything else that might happen from such tight quarters.

He already was feeling a little uncertain about what to do if Anna wanted to be intimate with him. Endrance knew that there weren't any objections from the rest of the Draugnoa, of course. They all had the right to do so or not, however they desired. It’s just that to Endrance, he hadn’t yet figured out what to think about her new body. The rest of the group had believed him when he assured them it was Anna… but somehow he himself doubted his own belief.

If it had been just a copy he had put in there, he would have outright declined. Not only would Anna have been still in his head, it would have meant having sex with a copy. That felt wrong, in ways Endrance didn’t have the desire to explain to others. Instead, with Anna truly and wholly settled into her new form, Endrance felt conflicted. Which was also annoying him because he was the person who had put her in that damn body in the first place.

The body looked very similar to Anna’s, but there had been some notable differences in some aforementioned anatomy, as well as overall muscle mass and the fact her meridians were visible on her skin like prototypal spellscribing with no spells. He could help her with that later, once he learned how well she’d be able to handle magic. Even if she wanted to go into a more militant focus, her Mercanian body would be a wonderful template for Endrance to scribe some of the most effective combat enhancement spells he had devised.

For the immediate time, Endrance decided to just wait and see how she adjusts. There was a small splinter of doubt in his mind that perhaps the effect wasn’t permanent, and she’d be incapable of controlling such a different body from her own. If the body released her imprint, Endrance might be able to recapture it, but it would bode poorly for all the effort and time they had spent on it.

On the other hand, it did confirm what Endrance was afraid of. The vaults were intended as a backup system for the Mercanians. Should a disaster occur, the imprints of the Mercanian people would be distributed to the bodies in the vaults, reviving them essentially perfectly. With the bodies kept in stasis, they were in perfect condition.

At the current point in time, the re-emergence of the Mercanians, with their full magical abilities and knowledge, would spell the end for human life and freedom. Ironsoul was currently broken, Balator was stretched thin across the continent, and the political relations with the elves would prevent any chance of refugees crossing the Sea of Glass into welcome arms. Whatever it was that prevented the Mercanians from returning, Endrance suspected that Malchoir had something to do with it.

If that was all there had been to it, Endrance would have gladly just thanked the guy and left him be. However, Endrance knew that Malchoir had been a deviant even among his kind, and was more power-hungry than the rest, if Valeria’s memories were even halfway accurate. He was so doggedly returning to the Mercanian empire’s capital city that Endrance had no doubts that something bad would happen if he left the man be.

Endrance spent that night on the floor of the bunkroom, inside his mind. He went to sort through the imprints he had collected while in Fini, and was shocked to discover his mental containment cells held twenty-such mages. The imprints milled around in the tiny force field blocked cells, dejected.

Sorting through the imprints. Most of them were only marginally useful. They had all been trained by Weldom and others of his faction, but the amount of intelligence they had over the current situation with the Circle of Magi was surprisingly barren. The disappearance of the mage’s tower was a big part of that, as Archmagus Talos had taken it somewhere. He made a note that he would have to try to find his ally once this was all over… if he made it out alive.

Endrance had some ideas, but he wasn’t going to worry about them for the time. Instead, he used the imprints of so many mages to learn everything they knew about magic that he did not. Going through all twenty of them yielded a minimal crop of benefits; other than a few spells that Endrance felt were worth adding to his repertoire, most of the stuff they knew about magical theory and spellcasting was woefully unrefined by standards he had come to think.

To Endrance, these assassins were full wizards of the Circle of Magi, and capable killers too. Their understanding paled in comparison though to the knowledge he had gained from Kaelob and Valeria. It had helped him repair more of Valeria’s tampering, so he was able to use the information gleaned from the imprints to literally reconstruct his library where the foundations had sagged or the supports had become thin. By the time he was done putting the imprints all away, morning had risen.

The ship had traveled on during the night, skirting along the edge of the Shatter as they headed west by northwest. Valzoa believed that what Malchoir was looking for would be on the far side of the Shatter from where they entered it. He surmised that if the damage was caused by a weapon that malfunctioned, then there would be more of the Mercanian empire intact behind the weapon than could be in the area in between the weapon and their targets.

Endrance didn’t have an exact understanding of what the Mercanian empire looked like before, since Valeria had only known enough to help her smuggle humans out of their territory as a youth, but he also felt that the elven duelist’s opinion was most likely correct.

During breakfast, Endrance felt Gullin’s presence return after having spent the night flying high and far ahead, scouting for the safest routes through the sea. They had discovered very quickly that just because they were out of range of the magical ‘noise’ of the Shatter, that they were not safe from physical harm. Large swaths of what appeared to be open ocean could be riddled with sea monsters, or worse, chunks of land just beneath the surface. Some of the crew mentioned sailing around submerged buildings and chunks of what seemed to be a city tossed on its side. So Gullin, with his extremely good eyesight and intelligence, had been crucial for navigating the area.

You’re back. Endrance commented. Are you okay?

I am… tired. Gullin replied. Not physically, but mentally.

That’s fine, my friend. Endrance mentally responded with impressions of welcome and care. I needed to talk with you before we continue, so settle down.

Endrance shrunk Gullin down to the smallest form he could manage: a puffball chick slightly bigger than a melon. While Gullin despised being so small and vulnerable to harm, it was the only way that the crew would be willing to let him inside the ship. Once inside, Endrance set up an oil lamp that Joven had thoughtfully rigged with a perch over the wick for Gullin to rest in. Lighting the flame with a snap of his fingers and a tiny pulse of electricity, Endrance set Gullin in the lamp and hung it in their bunkroom.

Ah, a direct flame. Gullin sighed mentally, letting out an adorably small chirp of satisfaction. Short of a volcano, it is difficult to find a place to get comfortable in this plane of existence.

I figured. Endrance responded with an amused chuckle. Okay, so do you think you’re up to discuss a few things?

I… am a little fatigued, but so long as you are not asking me to do any magical formula I should be fine. Gullin replied.

Endrance nodded, walking out of the room. That’s perfect. He said, going to sit down for breakfast with his friends. Some of the crew joined them at that time, but the rest would be eating after they finished up. While he ate, Endrance made small talk but mostly focused on eating and conversing with his familiar.

I was worried about the effects of the Shatter once we actually start heading inside it. Endrance stated. Like, I think it might weaken our link or disrupt it. I might have to recall you.

Gullin’s response came after a brief delay. What do you mean? He asked. There has not been any disruptions in our link or the binding.

There hasn’t? Endrance asked. There have been a number of times where I cannot feel you, nor were you able to feel me when I was in danger.

I told you before. Gullin replied, sounding a little annoyed. I dozed off that time.

Before we set out, you were able to respond to me even when asleep. You’d even react when I just touched the link to make sure it was still there. Endrance retorted. And the only thing you detected a few days ago was my extreme emotional distress.

I promise you, our link is intact and secure. Gullin replied.

Endrance took a deep breath and drank some water at the breakfast table. He held up a hand, and everyone at the table went quiet. Not just because they held Endrance in such esteem, but also because people tended to keep a wary eye on a mage’s hands. Endrance gave Joven a look, and the big man understood, gesturing for others to be ready for anything.

I am not sure that you’re being completely honest with me, Gullin. Endrance replied, mentally tying down the link between the two of them so Gullin wouldn’t have any leeway to change his size. Gullin let out a physical chirp of alarm as Endrance’s mental command also enacted the simple spell he had laid on the lantern when Joven had first modified it for him. The glass panel of the oil lamp swung closed and locked. It would be impossible to travel dimensionally, nor teleport while within the confines of the lamp.

In fact, I have some serious concerns about how much control Malchoir has over you. Endrance said with finality. And I dearly hope that I am wrong.

What are you doing? Let me go! Gullin cried. He fluttered around inside the lamp, but with such a confined space he could hardly make the thing swing on its hook.

You will be let go, old friend. Endrance replied. But first we need to set the record straight. Your specific binding spell was scribed on my back by my mother, not I. I couldn’t have known what it was, much less how it would have worked. The spell was copied onto my meridians from a template that Valeria made of the spell on Malchoir’s back. This means that you were, and still would be, Malchoir’s familiar.

The Fjallar ceased struggling, both physically and mentally. What? he asked. I cannot even begin—

In addition, now I know plenty about the dimensions and the connections that familiars have to their masters. The only way I could have become your master was if your prior master was dead… or they allowed me to form a subordinate bond with you. Otherwise I would have not been able to summon you in the first place.

Endrance, Gullin tried to reason with him. I am not betraying you! I—

I know. Endrance replied. Not yet, at least. However, you cannot ignore an order from him, can you?

Gullin was silent for several heartbeats. Endrance could feel the distress from his familiar’s link to him, but there was also a pained resignation.

I understand now that you wish to dismiss me. Gullin replied after a long while. I will tell you how to modify the spell circle to instead summon one of my siblings, if you desire. They have been untamed for ages; no one else would be able to lay claim to their loyalty, unlike me.

Endrance gave the group an ‘all clear’, and Joven had the rest stand down. While Gullin didn’t directly acknowledge that he was still under Malchoir’s control, it was likely that he had been given the command to keep that from Endrance. Endrance could work around that.

I don’t wish to abandon you, Gullin. Endrance said. But the stakes here are so high, that I cannot let someone as powerful as you stay a sleeper agent for the enemy.

That makes sense. Gullin murmured. I am deeply sorry that I am unable to assuage your fears. If I could, I would have.

Tell me, Endrance asked. If someone were to ensure they were the only one who had a bond with a familiar, what could they do to shake off anyone else’s contract?

The Fjallar seemed confused. What do you mean? Gullin asked. I cannot say I have any bonds other than with you.

Nonsense. Endrance dismissed Gullin’s assurance. This is a completely unrelated thing. Absolutely unrelated. I’m thinking of giving a familiar to my apprentice, you see? I need to be sure that no one else could take it away from her.

Gullin only hesitated for a short while. You would have to forge a proper master’s familiar bond. Gullin stated. If you used something like the circle you have, you would run the risk of someone who used a master’s bond circle on the same creature.

What’s the difference between the circles? Endrance asked. It can’t have been too different, since the modifications had to have been minor.

The circle you have is complete. Gullin replied. But there is a second circle that surrounds the first. Without it, you, err… she would not have complete control over her familiar.

What would happen if she summoned her familiar with a master’s circle, but someone else already had one for that familiar? Endrance asked.

Gullin took his time responding. I believe that it would become a contest of wills between the two casters, because there can only ever be one master’s bond.

That would be hard for Giselle. Endrance thought. Perhaps I will have to do a test summoning with a master’s circle to make sure she doesn’t have to worry about it.

You do what you feel is necessary. I, for one, am largely confused. Gullin sighed. And confined. Are you going to dismiss me, or are you going to keep me here?

I don’t know. Endrance replied. Let me get back to you about that.

Focusing on the world around him again, he had explained what was going on. At least, in broad, nonspecific terms. He turned to Giselle, though, and gave her a smile.

“Hey,” he said, locking eyes with her. “So you know how I’m fireproof?”

“Uh, yeah!” Giselle said, her eyes sparkling. “Are you going to let me set you on fire again?”

Endrance hesitated. “You set me on fire?” he asked, concerned. “Why do I not remember that?”

Giselle looked as contrite as a guilty puppy. “Maybe just a little.” she replied. “You were asleep! You didn’t even notice. I even replaced the blankets!”

Endrance looked up at his friends, who were staring at the little wolf girl, aghast. “So… I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” he said. “How would you like to be fireproof too?”

Valzoa, observing the conversation, leaned over to one of his elven sailors. “How much do you want to bet that this ends with the girl setting herself on fire?” he asked.

The elf frowned. “Intentionally?” she asked. “No way. I’m not taking that bet.”

Valzoa simply shook his head and sighed.

“Would I?!” Giselle gasped, clutching her furry hands to her chest. “Yes! Yes-yes-yes-YES!”

Endrance smiled, but it faltered after Giselle continued on.

“No one could beat me if I was on fire all the time!”

“Damn.” Valzoa muttered. “Dodged that arrow.”

“You know,” Eleale whispered. “I’m beginning to think you enjoy losing bets.”

The duelist simply shrugged. “Oh I’m simply terrible at it.” he says. “Doesn’t mean it’s not exciting to make the bet anyways. Sometimes I win, and those are the best times for me.”

****

Endrance sat in meditation, this time on the upper deck of the ship. With his eyes closed, he was both teaching Giselle a lesson in concentration as well as practicing the craft himself. Unlike other times when he wore his armor to lessen the effects of the Shatter’s static storms, Endrance had divested himself of any protection. He was sitting cross-legged with his hands resting on his knees.

Instead of sitting, Giselle stood on Endrance’s shoulders and worked on her balance. He had asked the elves on duty to occasionally try to distract her while she also practiced her counting. If she lost track of where she was, reacted to one of the crew, or fell off him, she had to start over again.

Consequently, Anna had seen this and came back on deck to surround Endrance’s person with pillows. Endrance’s pillow being the first one she laid down. Endrance would have to magically dry them and strip the salt out before they could be used again, to his annoyance.

While Giselle counted, Endrance continued to converse with Gullin, drawing out of the Fjallar information on forming a master’s circle around a summoning circle. If he got distracted or messed up, he could regain his focus far easier than the little girl could. Gullin, for the most part, cooperated with his request, but would balk any time the topic veered towards the circle being for his summon.

Endrance continued the conversation under the pretense of summoning one of Gullin’s siblings. As long as it was for that end, Gullin would willingly participate in the matter. It took every bit of his experience circumventing absolute bindings to get the familiar to help with it.

The entire time, Endrance was wrestling with his feelings of guilt. It wasn’t Gullin’s fault that he was essentially an agent of his enemy; and it wasn’t a sure thing that Malchoir would even think to use the familiar anyways. Just knowing that he could would let Endrance take many precautions. Still, even if he had preparations, the moment Gullin turned on them would be devastating, and Endrance just couldn’t risk it.

He would have to steal the familiar wholly from his father. It was only fair, in Endrance’s mind; the man had stolen his staff Pentarch, an artifact of relatively great power and a natural channel of Life. Now, it actually felt kind of like the staff was a mirror of Endrance’s situation with Gullin. Both of them had something that originally belonged to the other. The difference was that Endrance planned on keeping both in the end.

The random bursts of static were disturbing to his senses, but he was getting better at filtering it out. He wouldn’t have bothered with that avenue of resisting the effects, except for the fact that Valzoa seemed to confirm that it was in fact possible. At first, Endrance thought that maybe it was an elven thing, but after sitting in concentration waiting for the next burst of ‘noise’ he started to at least grasp what Valzoa was doing.

There was a brief moment of time right before the discordant magical energy hit that the normal flow of power in the air seemed to still. Endrance couldn’t tell how he was supposed to prevent his magic from being messed up by the following chaotic scramble of energy, but he at least figured out how to at least be alerted it was about to happen.

The Shatter’s effects actually reminded him of the anti-magic tabs he had made a few years ago, back when he was dealing with Atastos, and Kaelob’s apprentice. The flat slats of wood were meant to be a magical power container that released an expanding sphere of wildly shifting and crazed ‘noise’ when the container was broken. He discovered it caused him enormous pain and suffering back then, and his use of them had fallen to the wayside.

Thinking back, he wondered if his experiences with the anti-magic tabs were the reason he had been able to figure out how to shield his allies so quickly. Having blacked out from an anti-magic tab had been enough to drive Endrance to research how to prevent it from happening later on. In the end, he had thought that the amount of investment of materials to make such a protection bracelet would not be worth it for the extremely rare times he would want to use the tabs. The situation had since changed, though, so he had made the bracelets for his friends. He also fixed up one for Anna.

The next wave of chaotic energy hit, and Endrance flinched. He wished he could figure out what was causing the effect, then at least he could have an idea if it was something that could be fixed. If the situation with Malchoir was resolved, Endrance would love to spend some time diving through the Mercanian’s territory. Spending a few decades salvaging some of their magical knowledge and artifice would be of huge benefit to humanity.

It would also be a good ‘retirement’ for his allies. Someone else could take over as Spengur again, Balator would be free to rule the human continent, and Endrance could take the Draugnoa and disappear for a while. Perhaps in a decade or two most of the other mages' tempers would have cooled, maybe even forgotten him. Given how long wizards lived, Endrance didn’t think it was possible, however. At least living in the Shatter would make him effectively invisible, since no one would believe that people could live there.

All that fanciful thinking would require them to get out of the situation alive first. Endrance didn’t share with the rest of the group, but he wasn’t exactly expecting that he would be coming out of it alive. He had good reason to believe it, too.

Malchoir… was absurdly powerful. Even if he was atrophied from a millennia of rotting in prison, the Mercanian had months to regain his strength. Even if he wasn’t at full power, his father had mastery of magic well above and beyond anything that humans had developed. His talks with Valeria had confirmed it; Malchoir had not shared everything he had known about magic with his test subjects.

While brooding, Endrance did have a thought. The goblin shaman had magic too, but that wasn’t anything that it had learned from humans. His review of the goblin shaman’s imprint informed him that it was something the goblin had learned by performing rituals and communing with spirits. The Soul Lance was a powerful spell that Endrance hadn’t touched since he had killed Kalenden, mainly because there practically wasn’t a defense against it.

Back then he could hardly use it because of the complexity of the magic and the surprisingly high cost it took of his reserves of power. In his current state, he could toss out a dozen of them before he started to feel the drain. He might be able to make some good use of the magic now, but even so he was worried that it wouldn’t work against Malchoir.

On the other hand, it had contributed to his confusion regarding souls and imprints. When he killed Kalenden with it, he still absorbed the man’s imprint, which had led him to believe that the imprints he had were definitely not souls. After all, how could he absorb the soul of someone who had their soul destroyed?

Perhaps he had misinterpreted how Soul Lance worked. It was entirely possible all it did was break the connection between the soul and the body. Which, if it did that, Endrance might have a weapon to use against Malchoir. In a quick review of her memories, Endrance found that Valeria hadn’t told Malchoir anything about Endrance’s abilities or what spells he knew. Surely it was arrogance, but that was to his advantage.

Giselle tapped the top of Endrance’s head, drawing his attention. “Hey Endrance.” Giselle said, pointing. “What’s that?”

Endrance opened his eyes, resisting the urge to chide her for being distracted. For good reason, too, as the subject of Giselle’s attention was a noteworthy one. Not only had night fallen while they had been training, something new had appeared in the Shatter.

In the evening sky over the Shatter, on their horizon, was a beautiful sea of lights. Golds, reds, and blues rippled through the night air silently. Endrance had seen something similar, the aurora borealis that sometimes appeared late in the winter evening sky above mount Balator, but the colors there were mostly blues and greens, and moved much more slowly. The overall movement seemed the same, but the color and speed were something entirely different.

“Woah…” Endrance whispered in awe. “That’s beautiful.”

The elves on deck stared up at the display, similarly mesmerized. Giselle hopped off Endrance’s shoulders, and he caught her unconsciously, setting her on his lap. Together the two of them watched the pretty colors and hypnotic patterns of color in peace.

“I…” Endrance murmured after thirty minutes or more of just observing. “I think it’s Quintessence.”

“Squint-essence?” Giselle asked, narrowing her eyes at it. “Neat.”

Endrance chuckled. “Quintessence is the name the Mercanians had for the power we use to perform magic. It’s the stuff that you’re trying to learn to manipulate.”

“But I thought you said we can’t see it?” Giselle protested, shifting so her tail wasn’t getting smushed under her legs.

He simply smiled. “Normally, the flow of magic power as it exists naturally is invisible. It can, sometimes, become visible when there’s a lot of it in one place.” he explained patiently. “That’s why Crystalphage glows when it’s full.”

“Why is it those colors?” Giselle asked, looking up at him. “Like, gold and stuff?”

Shrugging, Endrance looked down at her. “I’ve been told that pure magical power is gold, and gold is a symbol of royalty, power over others, and divinity. I don’t know how that explains it, but most Circle mages believe magic power is gold because gold is the color of power.”

The little wolf girl looked cross-eyed. “That… doesn’t make any sense!” she protested, giggling. “That sounds weird and backwards!”

Endrance laughed, looking back out over the aurora. “Yeah I don’t know either.” he admitted. “But what I do know is that power without any of the specific other aspects is golden in color.”

“How many colors of magic are there?” Giselle asked.

Thinking, Endrance was surprised to realize the answer. “There’s five, technically,” he replied. “If we consider gold to be the default, then there’s five variations on it. Green, red, blue, purple, and silver. Gold power can be turned into any of the five variations by a spell, or it may just use it as it is. It’s an advanced theory and something that even a Magus-level wizard might not get involved in.”

“But you know it!” Giselle spouted, grinning. “That makes you awesome!”

Endrance couldn’t help but blush and smile a little at the kid. “Thank you.” he said. “I hope I can teach you enough for you to get into the Circle once I’m gone.”

“Gone?” Giselle frowned. “Where are you going? Can I come?”

Sighing, Endrance shook his head. “When our ship reaches our destination, we’ll have to part ways for a bit. I need to find out what’s going on with Malchoir. It’s going to be a little dangerous, so you’re going to stay with the ship and the crew until we get back.”

Giselle looked up at him, staring. “You’re not going to let me sneak after you, are you?” she asked quietly.

Endrance patted her head. “Of course not!” he replied. “I won’t be able to do my job properly if I’m worrying about you!”

“Okay.” The wolf girl looked sad for a moment. “You better come back, or I’ll be sad.”

Perhaps he should put more effort into making sure he survives the trip.

Chapter Thirty

Their journey around the edge of the Shatter came to an end four days later. Endrance had spent as much time going over mental preparations, fixing his spellcasting, and even scribing spells over every possible inch of his skin. He even made tweaks to some of his existing scribing, which was a painful and tedious process, but a necessary one if he wanted to fit more magic on his body. By the time Valzoa came below decks to get the group, Endrance had managed to convert quite a few of his scribed spells into etched ones.

He had even integrated some of the stuff he had been thinking about more recently, including the fruits of his research into resisting the magical static. The warding spells etched into his body incorporated a few new whorls and geometric additions, but would now allow him to keep his wards up while in the Shatter. It would also keep any of his spellscribing from being disrupted, as long as it remained within his wards. Spell effects that left his body, like the lightning, would not be protected.

The rest of the group hadn’t been sitting idly by either. During the day Joven had worked Anna into shape, helping her remember her combat skills and practice. There was a small amount of adjustment needed since her body’s dimensions were different. At night before they went to sleep, Endrance would help tutor her on absorbing quintessence to fuel her body. He had considered giving her the bracers he had once worn, but they wouldn’t fit her long arms.

Selene spent most of her time in her hybrid form now, using her wings and supernatural physical strength to help with scouting since Gullin was now suspect.

Gullin was kept within the warded lantern for the entire time. Endrance wanted to do the ritual to wrest control from Malchoir, but he didn’t want to alert the Mercanian just yet.

Tanya was not able to train her combat skills in her usual fashion. Yet Tanya actually contributed a lot to keeping the ship safe from oceanic threats. Her sharp eyes and unerring bow could strike down even large-sized flying threats, and with a specialized arrow, she could even go bow fishing along the way. She missed a few times at first, but she quickly adjusted to the distortion the surface of the water caused.

Bridget spent a lot of time in the kitchen, learning food preparation and cooking techniques from the crew’s cook. No one was worried about her combat skills becoming rusty. She also spent time cultivating several batches of seeds. She had learned much about the rare plants of the elven nation, and had taken to keeping many varieties. She had learned that she could use her wooden arm in conjunction with them to create semi-magical effects. From what Endrance had been told, some of them could be used to make a shield of sorts against elemental magic.

“Hey, Endrance.” Valzoa called out, knocking on the bunkroom door before opening it.

Endrance was spending his time doing some final adjustments to his spellscribing so he was sitting cross-legged on a towel, naked. Valzoa’s eyes flicked over his comrade’s body, noting the myriad arcane lines covering almost every inch of Endrance’s skin. Several spots where Endrance had been actively working bled trickles of red-gold blood. To Valzoa, the lines scarring the wizard’s body made it hard to realize that the man was actually naked and not wearing some kind of lace or mesh bodysuit. Well, if it weren’t for parts of his anatomy that were completely exposed.

“Yeah?” Endrance responded, opening his eyes. Reaching to the side, he picked up a damp cloth to clean up the blood. “I just finished doing my latest set of modifications.”

“You uh, put spells on your groin?” Valzoa asked, not really interested in looking. “That’s pretty hardcore.”

Endrance shrugged. “It’s an area that definitely needs some kind of protection, since it’s so vulnerable,” he explained. “And I’ve never had any complaints about the change in texture, so I have to assume it’s fine.”

Valzoa shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s great,” he stated. “So… We’re at the point of no return.”

Endrance stood, still swabbing up trickles of blood. “What do you mean?” Endrance asked.

Valzoa gestured flippantly at the ceiling as if indicating the sky above. “We’ve gone as far towards our objective as we can outside the Shatter. From here on, we’re going to have to sail the waters inland.”

“You… you actually know where the Mercanian capital is, don’t you?” Endrance asked, narrowing his eyes at his elven friend. Valzoa merely shrugged.

“I’ve never been there, if that’s what you’re asking.” Valzoa replied with a laugh. “I’m not that old! However, we elves have considerably more experience sailing the seas than you humans have. We’ve been places. Not that… we’d willingly send full ships into Mercanian territory, but we’ve had scouts investigate the Shatter numerous times.” the elf shrugged. “That’s why I was able to hire a crew; we had some idea of what we were getting into.”

Endrance nodded. “Well, I’ll get dressed,” he said. “Can you ask one of my Draugnoa to come down and give me a hand? I need to clean the blood off my back before I pull on a shirt.”

Turning, Endrance showed Valzoa his back. A lot of modifications had been done to his spellscribing. The familiar contract circle had shrunk a little, and a new secondary circle tightly encompassed it, to the point where Valzoa thought he had just made the outer border thicker by another line of script. There were more spells worked into his lower back, trailing down his spine.

“Oh yeah, that’s a mess!” Valzoa said, backing out of the room. “I’ll uh, go get one of them.”

Once he was cleaned and dressed, Endrance strapped on his armor and joined them above. The ship was already closing in on the edge of the Shatter.

The landscape on the dangerous side of the Shatter had hardly changed during their weeks of sailing along the edge. Largely an endless expanse of upturned rock and loose land, with plantlife trying to make do with the world being jumbled up. Sometimes they spotted movement in the form of various animal life that had adapted to living in the strange terrain and magical energies. Mostly mutated versions of other creatures, Endrance would have enjoyed studying them and learning about their abilities, but he had been too preoccupied preparing his people as much as possible for dealing with Malchoir.

Once they entered the Shatter’s area of influence, Endrance would be cut off. No longer would he be able to teleport out, since the magical chaos happening in the Shatter would make doing so incredibly hazardous. Not just the risk of ending up inside a rock or sent wildly off course; he ran the risk of landing in some other realm entirely.

The area they chose as their avenue to sail into the Shatter was relatively close to where Endrance and Valzoa estimated the Mercanian capitol to be. The damage to the land seemed greater in that area, and they had found a channel in the terrain that was twice as wide as any river in the human lands. They could only scout so far, but even if they ended up having to weigh anchor some of the way in and continue on foot, they would have cut months of time out of the journey trying to navigate to it on foot from the mainland.

At the point they were at, Endrance looked to either side as they entered into the channel. Obvious outcroppings of rock jutted out on either side, each large enough to have built a moderately-sized town on. Moss clung to the sides of the rock with tendrils hanging down to the water’s surface. The land beyond the outcroppings were not any clearer, with every crack, crag, and crevasse filled with unchecked plant life. Trees grew out at odd angles, their branches arching up in a silent, desperate battle with their awkwardly-planted neighbors for sunlight.

Standing at the bow, Endrance caught the sound of something moving through the water near them. Looking down, he could only catch a glimpse of something serpentine slithering under the surface that was long enough that he could not see the head nor tail of it… and it was at least five feet across. Pursing his lips, he looked over to Valzoa. The elven male was standing on the crow’s nest, calling down directions for the sailors to avoid any underwater obstacles.

“Hey, Valzoa.” Endrance called out.

The elf glanced his direction, but was otherwise busy giving directions. “The snake?” he asked in response.

Endrance nodded. “Yeah.”

Joven approached the side of the ship Endrance was on. “It’s been seen off and on again for the last couple of days,” he explained. “Seems harmless enough, actually ate some of the sea beasties that would have threatened the ship.”

Scratching his chin, Endrance sighed. “Must be enjoying us stirring up food for it.” he concluded.

Selene landed on the deck hard, stumbling as she did so. She had been flying in her hybrid form again, but she seemed a little off-kilter. Her feet were bare, revealing her toenails were similarly as black and pointed as her fingernails. Other than that, she was wearing a backless shirt and calf-length pants with a red sash around her waist that was further wrapped with her favored chain dagger. Panting, she folded her wings against her back and walked over to Joven and Endrance.

“Okay so I can fly out there.” she reported. “But there’s very faint clouds of colors that mess me up even with your bracelet on.”

Narrowing his eyes, Endrance stared up at the cloudy sky. His artifact eye zoomed his senses ahead, and with a little mental effort, he switched it to see magical auras. Endrance’s eyes widened with amazement.

“That aurora we saw last night…” he whispered. “It’s… It’s still here!”

“The what?” Joven asked.

“The aurora, the lights that were in the sky the last couple of nights?” Endrance asked. “They don’t go away at night, they’re just more visible in the dark!”

Selene looked up. “It’s going to be hard to avoid them with conditions like this.” she observed. “One of them felt pretty nice, but the rest… ugh.”

“Felt nice?” Joven asked.

Selene nodded. “Like cherries.” she said. “Hard to explain… It’s not cherry-flavored, but it makes me think of it like that. Sweet but kinda sharp.”

“It’s condensed quintessence, probably emotion-aligned.” Endrance explained. “You’re half-succubus, so that kind of thing would be a kind of food. The others wouldn’t be compatible with your, uh, diet.”

Selene crossed her arms under her chest, pouting. “Is there anything you can do to increase the strength of the bracelet?” she asked. “It’s hard to stay in the air if I fly through a patch.”

Endrance reached out and took her hand, looking over the bracelet. “I have figured out a few improvements while I was meditating.” he said, thinking. “But I’m talking about a ten, maybe twenty percent improvement.”

Selene’s grip tightened as she caressed the back of his hand. “I would love anything you can give me.” she murmured.

Endrance, unaware of the allusion she was making, tapped the surface of the bracelet. Draining the power out of the Crystalphage, the golden sheen of the bracelet receded into a dull copper color. Endrance fished a pick out of the small pouch he had on his armor’s belt and went to work. Since the aurichalcum was by nature resistant to magical tampering, using etching picks while the aurichalcum was drained of power was the only way to make modifications.

While Endrance worked, the landscape continued to slowly drift past. The ship was making good progress, sliding through the inland waters at the safest speed they could manage. Valzoa dropped off the crow’s nest, slowing his fall for a split second before landing on the deck and walking over to Endrance.

“Done!” Endrance exclaimed, removing his hands from the bracelet. “How does it feel?”

Selene held up her arm, watching the artifact as it slowly turned golden again. Shortly after one of the scrambling waves of power struck, and the bracelet’s energy filled instantly. She blinked, her square-pupiled red eyes registering surprise.

“It… feels good.” she said. “Like, the good feeling energy feels stronger, but the rest of it is even more dull than before!”

Endrance smiled. “I adjusted it to provide stronger protection against the random static.” he explained. “But I needed to sacrifice some protection elsewhere. Thankfully you can handle the emotion-aligned power, so I tweaked this bracelet for that.

“So I get all the good stuff, and the protection you would have used there was spread out to the others?” Selene asked. Endrance nodded.

“That’s fantastic.” Valzoa stated, chuckling. “Selene, are you ready to continue scouting? I can only see so far from the crow’s nest.”

The busty draugnoa nodded enthusiastically. “I have to go give this a shot!” she said, spreading her wings. Endrance shielded his face from the wind as she pushed off the deck, taking flight up into the sky like a dart.

“So…” Valzoa hummed in the silence that followed. “What’s the deal with your birdy? I saw him last night and he looks depressed.”

“He’s got a conflict of interests, and he’s not handling that issue being forced very well.” the mage explained. “He really cares about me, but he’s also worried that Malchoir could make him do something to hurt me.”

“Ah.” Valzoa frowned. “That little flamepuff’s been with you since the early days.”

Endrance chuckled, nodding. “Though he’d be so mad if he heard you calling him a ‘little flamepuff’.”

Valzoa shrugged. “Some people can’t handle being small.” he said. “Though in my experience most of the ones who can are the most overconfident little troublemakers.”

At that point, Giselle ran by, carrying an unsheathed sword. Tanya was running after her.

“No running with sharp stuff!” Tanya cried after the young wolf-girl.

Endrance groaned, touching his face with one hand. Valzoa only spread his hands in a ‘told you so’ gesture. Endrance murmured a few words and gestured with his other hand. The sword in Giselle’s hands was plucked out of her grip and flipped through the air, landing in Endrance’s hand.

As if a reminder, almost the instant the sword landed in Endrance’s hand a storm of magical energies struck the ship, scrambling his senses. Endrance dropped the sword as his bare hands went numb. The sharp-edged blade bounced off the aurichalcum plate on Endrance’s boot, clattering to the floor.

“Ugh.” Endrance grunted, pulling his gloves on. “Once this is over, I’m going to investigate this storm and freaking fix it!”

“It’s like an invisible wind sprite that’s been given some feathers.” Valzoa observed. “And is obsessed with sneaking up on you and tickling you all over your body when you least expect it.”

Endrance had not thought of it that way, but the statement did make sense as well as reinforce what Endrance knew about the elf’s magical abilities. Despite his strength with wind magic, Valzoa was still an intuitive magic user. He didn’t think about what he was doing so much as feel it, so perhaps some of the things he did were based on the mental image he was forming when he interacted with magic. To Valzoa, it very well could be that it felt like some kind of psychotic wind pixie took a shine to tickling him at random.

“That’s, uh, graphic to think about.” Endrance muttered, shaking his head.

Valzoa chuckled, grinning. “What, you thinking about me wearing nothing but a few feathers?” The elf teased.

Endrance, Bridget, and surprisingly half of the elven crew responded with a hearty “Ugh!”

“Oh,” Valzoa laughed, walking up the stairs to the aftcastle and the pilot. “So you did envision me. Flattering!”

Endrance picked up the dropped sword, turning to scowl at Giselle.

“What have we told you about running with swords?” Endrance asked, holding out the sword handle to her.

Giselle glanced at Tanya, who had her hands on her hips. “In the sheath… Unless you’re chasing prey.” Giselle groaned, reaching out and lifting the light blade out of Endrance’s hand.

Endrance glanced at Tanya, who gave him a frown and nod combination that Endrance understood as ‘not exactly, but just play along’. Glancing back at Giselle, Endrance nodded. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Keep it sheathed if you’re running, unless you’re running down someone who ran from you.”

“Nice catch, by the way!” Giselle added with a giggle. “You looked really cool at first, but then you totally dropped it!”

Endrance raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I don’t wanna hear that from the only one on the ship who nearly impaled Joven five times now. Accidentally.”

Taking the scabbard from Tanya, Giselle turned her head to the side and grumbled as she sheathed her weapon. Endrance heard something muttered about ‘accidentally on purpose’, but didn’t hear enough to really scold her.

“Now, Giselle.” Endrance said, getting her attention again. “We’re in the dangerous part now. I know you demanded I take you with me on this undoubtedly insane mission, but this is the last chance you’ll have for me to send you home. I can’t promise you’ll make it out of this unharmed. I can’t even promise that I’ll make it out of this alive. Are you sure you don’t want me to—”

Giselle practically snarled. “I know!” she snapped. “I’ve been here for weeks now, watching everyone.”

She cradled the sheathed sword to her chest, the leather scabbard scraping against her improvised protective suit. “I hear you talking with the others. I see the looks on your faces! You’re scared too. I want to help. I don’t care if I could… I could die.”

She sniffed. “At least I wouldn’t die alone.”

“Hey.” Endrance said, half-crouching to rest his hands on his knees. “Look at me.”

Giselle blinked away a tear and caught his gaze. Endrance could see that though she was quite worried, the wolf-girl had also accepted her potential fate.

“You need to keep your weapon at your side at all times!” he chided. “Let me see your hands.”

Giselle set the sword point down and leaned the handle against her shoulder as she held out her hands palms up to Endrance. Endrance took her hands in his, looking them over. The girl actually had dark charcoal gray pads along her fingers and the palms of her hands that would let her grip her weapons, but they were still quite soft and vulnerable. However, the fur that grew on her hands around those pads had been recently groomed. Endrance nodded, only frowning a little as he turned her hands over and looked at her nails.

“You’re not Selene.” he commented. “You can’t grow your nails out at will. Don’t trim them too short or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“But they jab my hands when I hold the sword handle.” she protested. Endrance shook his head.

“Your nails are supposed to be sharp, but curved. You’ve been trimming them flat for a long time so you’re used to the rough edges being where they are. Nails are one of the wolves’ natural weapons, and you should not deprive yourself of one of your weapons the way that you have. Let them grow out, and if you poke any holes in your hands we’ll heal them.” Endrance tilted his head towards Tanya. “And maybe just get you some gloves.”

Giselle seemed to have finally understood that Endrance was giving his tacit approval to remain on the journey. Her tail was very slightly swishing back and forth as she tried to remain serious. “I don’t like gloves.” she protested. “They rub my hair the wrong way.”

Endrance spread his gloved hands. “Then I hope your hands toughen up fast.” he said. “Tanya? Is everyone else ready?”

“Yeah, Bridget’s in the kitchen doing something for our evening meal.” Tanya explained. “I told her that she’ll be on morning watch so she’ll be turning in early.”

“Watch?” Giselle asked.

Tanya put a hand on the young wolf’s shoulder. “Now that we’re in an area of the world that anything could happen—”

“Literally.” Endrance interjected.

“Literally anything could happen, we agreed to have at least one of us Draugnoa up on deck at all times to keep an eye out for danger.” Tanya continued to explain, giving Endrance a brief, amusedly annoyed glare. “That way we can let the sailors focus on the sailing, and we can focus on the fighting, should we need it.”

Giselle nodded. “I want to help too.” she said. “Give me a watch.”

Tanya thought it over. “I think you should go on watch with Anna.” she said. “Anna’s still getting used to her body, and your senses are pretty sharp so you can be her backup.”

Giselle was very responsive now that she heard that Tanya wasn’t trying to protect her by giving her some kind of minor duty that would keep her out of the way. “Will do!” she exclaimed, grinning wolfishly in the way only Giselle could.

“I’m… going to sit belowdecks.” Endrance stated, a tiny kernel of concern having taken root and germinating. “I have something I need to do.”

“Okay!” Giselle waved as Endrance retreated.

Sitting down in the galley after grabbing some materials from their room, Endrance started puzzling through his new dilemma. He had always assumed he could keep Giselle out of the direct fight. He had figured that she’d be satisfied sailing with them, and would eventually ‘stay on the boat’ when it came time for them to do their thing.

He was realizing that he had been deluding himself. He had brought his foster daughter, of sorts, on what he knew in his heart was a suicide mission. At least, it would be for him; the crew of the ship, Valzoa, the Draugnoa, and hopefully his friend Joven would make it out alive.

The thing about it all was… Endrance didn’t really mind that. Even though his body had only been alive for close to thirty years, he had ‘lived’ thousands of years worth of life experiences. He could see how the people whose imprints he had felt about the passing of decades, even centuries. He knew, impartially, how being nearly ageless would eventually become a problem. Not even counting the ennui of countless years, Endrance had literally re-lived his own mother’s downward spiral from being a hero of human life to undead magical worshiper of the very person who had enslaved humanity.

Still, he really shouldn’t have gone down that dark train of thought. He had someone who needed him. Someone who, like him, had their childhood deprived of their real parents. He frowned as he stared at the panel of light leather and the bits of aurichalcum cast-offs that Leona had given him. For some reason, tears were obscuring his vision.

His ‘father’, the one who actually made a difference, was Joseph, not Malchoir. But, Endrance wondered if he could be the ‘Joseph’ for Giselle, as the man had been for him.

Chapter Thirty One

The Mercanian capital city was not hard to find, it turned out. Only four days of navigating the waters later, Endrance was staring at the shore as it came close to the side of the ship and had a realization. The sheer number of fragmentary stone buildings had increased many times over, and Endrance started seeing almost fully intact, yet upside down or at even stranger angled buildings in an unknown architectural style.

From his memories, Valeria had seen the white marble, gold-inlaid style of buildings all the time when she was a young slave in the Mercanian empire. The buildings that the Mercanians themselves lived in had that kind of design, while the slave pens were a lot more practical and had no ornamentation. Malchoir’s territory, from Valeria’s memories, even had gemstones set in the very walls sheerly for decoration.

Thinking back, he realized that he had started seeing the white marble debris the night before, so they had already been sailing within the borders of the city for half a day and they hadn’t even realized it yet.

In addition, the density of living things in the area had increased exponentially. Some kind of wild canine occasionally made their presence known by howling in the distance, or a vague quadrupedal shape spotted for just a second on the horizon. They even saw some kind of six-legged breed of pig that seemed just as comfortable in the water as they were in the muddy lower lands.

Those porcine creatures were some of the sea serpent’s favorite foods, it seemed, going after them vigorously whenever they failed to see it coming. Valzoa was willing to allow the serpent to continue to follow them, since it not only left them alone but also scared off many other aquatic predators.

Many avian creatures, unafraid of the serpent in the waters around Endrance’s vessel, followed along above or perched on the ruins nearby to watch them. Among them were a large, broad-chested black bird that looked somewhat like a raven at first glance. However, that comparison was quickly lost when one got close enough for the crew to get a good look at them

The birds all seemed to be able to track them despite having their eyes closed. The other birds seemed to avoid them, giving each one several feet of space despite them seeming otherwise nonviolent. Combined with their oddly triangular body shape, the silent way they watched without making a noise, and the way they held their beaks down towards their chests, the creatures were one of the more worrisome figures surrounding their sailing ship.

As the suns started to descend on that day, something changed in the bird’s behavior. The sinister-looking birds suddenly spread their wings in unison, and that was some kind of signal that made all the other birds in the vicinity immediately flee the area.

Endrance opened his eyes from his meditation on deck, alerted by the sudden change in the birdsong. Observing the panicked flight of the avians in the sky, Endrance stood, getting Giselle’s attention. At the same time, Valzoa descended from the aftcastle on a gust of wind, landing next to the wizard.

“The sea serpent’s gone.” the elf reported. “At least, it’s no longer following us anymore.”

Endrance walked with Valzoa to the guardrail, looking down in the water. There was no longer any presence of the sea creature that had been following them for the last several days.

“The question is…” Endrance muttered, searching the horizon and seeing that only the sinister blackbirds were the only living things circling the sky nearby. “Did it get full and head home… or was it scared away?”

Near the fore of the ship, one of the black birds landed in front of one of the elven sailors. True to being closer to nature than humans, the elven male merely slowed his work, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the creature. Now that one was up close, it was a surprisingly large creature that was larger than an eagle.

The blackbird opened not one but two sets of eyes, but they were above and below the markings on their heads that looked like closed eyelids. The bird’s strange eyes were blank white orbs, giving them an even more sinister appearance. The elven sailor’s eyebrows started to knit together as he grew cautious.

The bird raised his beak, letting out a horrible shriek with a voice that seemed to be a combination of a high pitch and a low tone. As it did so, strange ripples in the air radiated out from the creature’s open beak. The elven sailor reacted with speed and grace, somersaulting backwards and away from the bird. He landed on his feet a few yards away, a thin dagger drawn.

Blood trickled down the male’s face. One of his eyes was damaged and bleeding profusely. Even focused on the attacker, the elf hadn’t seen the attack land. Grimacing from the pain, he flung his dagger, burying it into the chest of the bird effortlessly even with only one eye to aim with.

Valzoa rushed over to the sailor, while Endrance moved to the bird. It fell over the side of the ship, plunging into the water. Using a quick gesture, Endrance pulled the bird out of the water using the same spell that he had grabbed the sword from Giselle the day before.

“Is he okay?” Endrance asked, prying the dagger out of the deceased creature’s chest. The head lolled about loosely as Endrance examined the creature.

“I’m fine.” the male replied, letting Valzoa and one other elf examine his eye.

Valzoa glanced at the other sailor, exchanging a glance before shaking his head. “No you’re not.” the other sailor said. “Your eye… it’s a mess.”

Endrance looked up from the bird. “What?” he asked. “This thing didn’t even touch him.” he asked as Valzoa treated his sailor with a high-value healing potion.

“It’s, well, ruined.” Valzoa confirmed, gritting his teeth. “The iris is missing. Even after healing.”

Endrance looked back down at the creature, holding the head and sighing. If it had died near him, he could have learned what it had done since it seemed to be a supernatural ability. “Let me take a look and see if I can—” he started to say, but froze as he noticed something.

The bird had three pale white eyes, but the fourth looked like a green human—or elven—eye. Endrance turned to look back at the sailor, and confirmed that his remaining eye was in fact green.

“This thing… stole his eye.” Endrance blurted, standing. “They can’t be…”

“What?” Valzoa asked. He gestured to the other sailors to draw weapons. “What is it?”

Endrance shook his head. “It’s a vague memory, but I think these are Eyebites.” Endrance said. “There were some Atastos, uh, wolfkin who had encountered them hundreds of years ago. Though all I have are secondhand reports. They thought the birds could pluck someone’s eye from their head in an instant. It seems that they actually steal the eye with some kind of magic.”

“Eyebites?” Valzoa shook his head in disbelief. “So we have to kill them at range?”

By that point, Selene landed on the deck, Endrance’s heart jumped when he saw trickles of blood coming down her face. She walked over to him, and he was relieved to see she had both eyes intact, albeit extremely bloodshot.

“Endrance!” she exclaimed. “Those birds can hurt your eyes when they cry!” she rubbed her eyes again. “I think they’re trying to blind us!”

The sky was swiftly darkening, drawing people’s attention up. Dozens of Eyebites had gathered into a flock and were circling above them, watching hungrily despite their eyes being closed. It was obvious they were readying themselves to attack.

“Get Tanya.” Endrance ordered. He gestured to the dead bird on deck. “Valzoa, take that and your crew below. Anyone with a bow should bring it out now. We’ll have to kill them at range—”

The birds above opened their eyes, crying out in the same stuttering double-toned shriek as the first, but duplicated in chorus. While the creatures were several dozen yards away in the air, the choir of screaming birds had some kind of resonant effect. A sharp itching sensation erupted in Endrance’s living eye, and he flinched. Collectively, the crew above deck shrieked in response, but for a different reason than the birds.

Hearing Giselle’s suddenly pained yelp, he grabbed her by the collar and pulled her while staggering towards the door leading into the ship by memory. He kept his eyes closed, but the pain wasn’t lessening because of his eyelids. Whatever it was the eyebites did, it could affect them through something soft.

The door flew open before anyone reached it, Tanya bursting onto the deck fully armed and ready to fight. She swept her gaze up, and to her credit, reacted to the chaos by drawing an arrow and letting loose a shot instead of puzzling the matter over. Rapidly, Tanya fired off arrows, impaling three eyebites before they could scatter.

The birds split up, fleeing while the three bodies fell. Two landed on deck with one missing and landing in the water. Of the two that fell on the deck, one landed next to Endrance and Giselle. Tanya managed to nail three more with arrows as they fled and the bodies fell far from the ship.

The one that landed next to Endrance was only wounded, not slain, as it opened its white eyes and struggled to lift its head. Endrance raised his hand to blast it into oblivion, but was interrupted by Giselle. The wolf girl snarled viciously as she leapt on it.

They both were about the same size but Giselle had far more mass because of her equipment. With her practice sword in hand, she hacked at it while digging her nails into the breast of the bird to keep it from wiggling out of the way.

The wolf-girl stood, holding the viciously decapitated eyebite’s head into the air and howling. Endrance could only stare at her with shock, while in the background Tanya was joined by a couple of elves who had returned from below with their own bows and arrows. Giselle turned to face Endrance with a blood-splattered face and bloodshot eyes, but with a tail that was wagging in happiness.

“Did you see that!?” Giselle asked, grinning wolfishly. “I won!”

Endrance glanced past her shoulder to the dead bird. “You did really—” he started to praise her, patting her head. A thin trickle of golden wind seemed to leak from the dead bird’s body and flowed into him, interrupting him. He blinked, collecting the information he gained from the imprint in an instant. “... good job taking it down. You even beat me to the punch!”

Giselle tossed the severed head aside, making a pleased sound deep in her throat. “They’re loud, but they’re not very tough!” she observed, rubbing at her eyes.

Endrance ushered Giselle below decks to get out of the way as the sailors quickly added quivers of arrows and strung bows to carry while they were on duty. Once below, he checked on the male that had lost an eye to the eyebite’s magic.

Scouring through the imprint he had just gained, Endrance sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry.” he said. “I don’t have enough information from the eyebite to know for sure how to fix the loss of the eye. However, I do think that it might wear off in time.”

“Time?” the male asked, freezing in the middle of strapping together an eyepatch. “How long?”

The wizard shook his head. “I would say at minimum… a few hours.” he said. “Probably a day, though.”

The elf nodded, resuming adjusting the eyepatch. Valzoa approached, even his eyes a little red around the edges.

“This is a problem.” the duelist declared. “We can’t sail blind, even if the effect wears off.”

“It’s likely a way for them to incapacitate prey.” Endrance replied. “My imprint tells me they’re carnivores.”

“Did your… impression tell you how to cure it?” Valzoa asked quizzically.

Shaking his head, Endrance sat down next to the elf and helped fit the eyepatch on the male’s head. After all, he had the most recent experience with wearing them. “Ah… no, the imprint’s too feeble for me to even get an idea of how it works. Usually magic-using creatures like that are easily absorbed, but that one must have spent most of its power before dying because there was nothing much to it. I’d need like, uh, seven or more of them to die near me for me to get a complete picture, so to speak.”

“Seven?” Valzoa asked, scratching his chin. “They need to die in your presence, correct?”

Endrance simply nodded. Valzoa tilted his head slightly, and then abruptly left the room. The elf Endrance helped test the fit on the eyepatch, gave Endrance an appreciative smile, and then left as well to resume his duties.

Using healing magic, Endrance was able to mend everyone else in short order. The eyebites kept their distance, but even though occasionally Tanya could pick one off every once and a while they persisted in following their journey. Perhaps they were trying to defend their territory, or maybe they just found the newcomers to be strangely appealing. Either way, Endrance started considering setting up some wide-area of effect magic to try to wipe the bulk of them out.

Anna came to meet him while the ship set the anchor for the night. With everyone needing to be on guard, they couldn’t have half the crew vulnerable at all times. Instead, they were going to have to slow down and sail only during the day when the threats were easier to spot before they got close enough that sight became a hindrance. Not that Endrance doubted the elves’ vision, but they were entirely Suo’hdi, and therefore didn’t have the natural night vision that their Sha’hdi possessed.

Even with that difference, Endrance knew for a fact that the Suo’hdi could see better in the starlight than humans could. Still, the ship’s hull seemed to insulate them from the eyebite’s screech, so they felt safe enough to sleep the night. Endrance or Valzoa would have to sense outside before coming above decks in the morning, just to be sure if they needed to clear out the birds before opening the doors.

That night, Endrance checked on Gullin for a few minutes before enacting his plan. The familiar was still sullen, not because of his imprisonment, but rather because of what that imprisonment represented; that his master could no longer trust his familiar spirit. Endrance checked to make sure everyone else was resting before he carefully snuck out of the ship, coming up on the deck.

The night sky was strange and alien in the Shatter, but also possessing a beauty that could not be found anywhere else. The stars appeared alien and unfamiliar, and even the moons were not the correct size as far as he could tell. The multi-colored aurora that sprang up that night even managed to silhouette the black moon of ill-omens. Endrance didn’t exactly prescribe to superstitions, having experience as the Spengur of Balator, but he had discovered to his dismay that many superstitions had origins in some kind of hard truth.

However, the moon was not involved in any of his current troubles, so he elected to consider its visual presence to be inconsequential. Instead, he was more interested in the birds that were still maintaining a safe distance from the ship.

Endrance had thought about the abilities of the eyebites, and wanted to see if he could gain their powers similar to how he had the blood tiger’s ability. He’d have to risk an eyebite stealing his vision, but with his spells he had a better chance than most of taking them down without losing an eye. He also suspected that they couldn’t take away sight from his enchanted prosthetic, either.

Standing on deck, Endrance stretched his arms and legs, doing a little warm up before he went to buckle on his coat of plates. He couldn’t exactly put it on in the bunkroom because it would definitely wake up the sensitive sleepers.

“Need a hand with that?” a female voice asked from next to him.

Endrance startled, whirling to face the person. At first, he thought he heard Jalyin, but the light of the night sky revealed it was simply Eleale, the leader of the elven sailors. Their builds and voices were similar, so it was easy to make the mistake in the dim light.

“Oh, Eleale.” Endrance murmured, allowing her to help him strap the armor on. “What are you doing outside at night?”

Eleale sighed, pointing up. “Valzoa, of course.” she replied. “He’s trying to capture an eyebite, or something along that line.”

“What?” Endrance looked up, unable to spot the elf anywhere. “Why?”

Eleale shrugged. “He said you’d need them or something.” she replied. “I wouldn’t worry about him, he’s not worried about losing his sight. I guess he did some training with the Sha’hdi. At least, that’s what he’s saying. I guess he’s expecting you to be able to heal my crew’s eyes if he brings you some of them.”

“He’s put a lot of trust in me.” Endrance whispered, scanning the night sky. A couple of black blots flickered across the sea of stars and auroras, but were too high up in the sky for him to discern their origin. Even if he wanted to use his prosthetic eye’s farseeing ability, it would be out of his field of vision by the time he zoomed in on that spot.

He made a mental note to try to include a tracking enchantment in a later version of the eye.

“That’s the way Valzoa is.” Eleale replied, stepping away from Endrance and leaning against the mast. “He’s the type of elf that commits wholeheartedly to whatever it is he puts his mind to. Been like that since he was a child, I hear. His friendships, swordplay, even his wind magic. I heard rumors that he actually had proficiency with sunlight magic, but ignored it because he felt his wind magic was, uh, ‘cooler’ than being bright.”

She smiled faintly, reminiscing. “His father once said, at a public place even, that calling his son pig-headed was grossly overestimating the capabilities of swine. Point being, if he’s decided to trust you, then he’s gonna trust you.”

“I see.” Endrance scratched his scalp before pulling his helmet on. “I take it that’s why you enjoy fleecing him of his gold every time you make a bet with him?”

Eleale let out a titter of laughter. “Oh yeah.” she replied, the corners of her eyes crinkling in mirth. “It’s honestly half of the reason I’m here. I’ll get double my commission if I’m lucky!”

“Double your what?” Valzoa’s voice called out from above. Endrance looked up in time to see the elven male descending from the sky on an invisible gust of wind. “Did Endrance come up on deck?”

“Yep.” Eleale replied, holding out a hand. Valzoa sighed, tossing a coin at her. His other hand held his raper, and on his back was a pair of struggling feathery forms.

“Got you again!” Eleale replied, pocketing the coin and giving Endrance a wink. “Now, I’ll go below decks before you do whatever it is you do.”

As she left, Valzoa unslung the two eyebites that he had hung from his shoulders. Trussed up like some kind of bird ready for roasting, they only seemed to twitch and wheeze in slow, hoarse breaths.

Whistling, Endrance squatted next to them. “What did you do?” he asked. “Their beaks aren’t even tied closed.”

The elf rubbed at his eyes. “Well, that doesn’t stop the thing from working.” he replied. “Almost got me there at first. However, I found that simply rendering them unable to breathe was the easiest method of subduing them.”

“How’d you do that?” Endrance asked, examining the first of the two creatures. It appeared to be in some kind of coma, as far as he could tell.

Valzoa didn’t really reply. “Eh, magic.” he said flippantly. “You know.”

“Got it.” Endrance had an idea, perhaps using his air magic to suck the wind from their lungs. That was actually more terrifying than the elf simply flying up into the sky and stabbing the bird with a sword.

“Need a knife?” Valzoa asked. Endrance shook his head, raising a gloved hand.

The wizard had spent some time examining the bird, and it turned out to have a relatively normal physique, at least in regards to birds that he had studied during his apprenticeship. He’d also killed a few chickens helping his adoptive father out as a child, so he was familiar with dealing with an incapacitated bird. Of course, the size difference made a small difference, so Endrance put more strength into the twist than he normally would have.

The amount of power that he absorbed was again, less than he expected. The creature didn’t seem to have been in combat, so the lack of power seemed suspicious. There was still not enough to give him a full imprint.

“That’s odd.” Endrance murmured, reaching out and finishing off the second one. Again, he got a depressingly small amount of power and only fragments of the imprint.

“What?” Valzoa asked.

“I only got fragments of the imprint.” Endrance answered, standing. “They’re uh, not complete.”

“Well how many do you need to get a full thing?” Valzoa asked. “There are a lot of them.”

“I’m not sure if it’s the effect of the Shatter, somehow.” Endrance replied. “Or there’s something else going on here.”

“Got it.” Valzoa replied, winking. “I’ll go snag a few more critters then.”

The elf took off into the night sky. Over the next hour he dropped off several more eyebites, and Endrance had the same result every time. With some frustration, Endrance suggested that Valzoa take a break while he went out to hunt some other creatures to see if it was unique to the birds or just the way the creatures of the Shatter were.

Valzoa refused to let him leave the ship, however. His involvement in the expedition was too important to leave to him wandering around in a destroyed, monster-filled city at night. Alone. As much as Endrance wanted to argue with him, he knew that the elf was right. That, and the Draugnoa would literally beat him senseless for being so reckless.

Endrance resigned himself to putting together a full imprint from multiple fragments. Which took him and Valzoa an hour of hunting and two dozen eyebites to accomplish. At that point, Endrance shucked his armor and went belowdecks to spend the rest of the night assembling it. By morning, he had finally gotten it figured out.

The creature’s imprint wasn’t the same as the others he had, since it was the only one that had been mentally assembled using pieces. The eyebite that now resided in the library of his mind appeared in a spun silver bird cage suspended from the ceiling, which hung just a few feet from the silver pool in the center.

In his head, even with his attempts to make it as seamless as possible, the eyebite looked somewhat different. Like it was an image formed in panes of stained glass, except it still looked mostly organic. There were just odd edges and angles that gave the impression that it was a clump of basic shapes that just happened to look very much like a four-eyed carnivorous corvid.

However, now that he had assembled it, he discovered a few things. The first was that the imprint of the blood tiger was intensely interested in the bird, which was the opposite of what the eyebite wanted. The eyebite’s eye-stealing cry actually didn’t work inside the library of his mind, mainly because Endrance felt it would be ridiculous to let it do so. Most importantly, however, he was able to replicate the ability.

Not that he exactly could use it, however. It turned out that the creatures were inherently blind and used some kind of echolocation to navigate in flight. Their eyes were actually just blanks that didn’t work even when they had stolen someone’s pupils. Instead, stealing the person’s vision would let them hunt disoriented and injured creatures. There was a limit to their ability too, which was a relief. The creature was stealing the pupils and iris of their intended enemies, so it could only steal from one target at a time. Anyone else would just suffer from burst blood vessels in the eyes.

They also were limited in that any stolen eyes had to go somewhere, and they only had four blank eyes. Once they were full, the creature’s ability wouldn’t work anymore until the effect wore off, and the eye returned to its true owner. Usually though, the owner was dead so it simply vanished from the eyebite.

Since Endrance didn’t have any blank eyes laying around his person, being able to use the ability meant nothing. It could still cause discomfort and bleeding from the eyes, but he wouldn’t be able to rob someone of sight. On the other hand, now that he understood the principles of how it worked, he was able to assure the elf that his vision would come back naturally, and not too much longer. By the time twenty four hours had passed, his vision had suddenly returned.

It was one of the rare bets that Valzoa won.

Chapter Thirty Two

Traveling by ship only got more difficult from there. The waterways got narrower and narrower, and a few times Valzoa had to literally hover along some of the rocky outcroppings flanking the ship to help guide it or else the hull would be shredded by segments of ruined white marble. Two days after the initial eyebite attack, they had reached a point where they had to stop.

“There’s no way we can continue by ship.” Valzoa concluded, landing on deck after doing another scouting sweep. “The channels are too narrow, and past this point there’s not a lot of options for turning the ship around. You know, since we need to actually go home after this is all over.”

Selene drifted in, landing with a little less grace than the elf. “I agree.” she said. “I can’t see a way we can get closer to the center of the city like this.”

Endrance frowned, scratching his chin. Behind him, one of the elves spotted something, picked up her bow and fired a shot, before putting it down and resuming tying down a rope. In the distance, an eyebite fell out of sight with a splat. The elf hadn’t even waited to see if her shot had connected before she put down the weapon.

“I don’t have the ability to make the ship fly.” he concluded. “The natural countermagic of the Shatter would ruin that immediately.”

“Neat thought. Kinda terrifying you could just do that with a ship.” Valzoa observed. “But what about your bird? Gullin? Couldn’t he carry you the rest of the way?”

Sighing, Endrance shook his head. “I… can’t trust him.” Endrance said. “Not that he would voluntarily drop us or anything, but Malchoir could decide to recall him while we’re mid-flight or something.”

“Maybe it’s time to do that thing you were talking about, then?” Valzoa asked. “Take full control and summon him with that master circle?”

Endrance stared at the city ruins, almost lost in thought. Part of him dreaded the conflict; Malchoir was bound to be astoundingly powerful, even weakened as much as he had been by eight hundred years of imprisonment. Endrance was confident his willpower was among the strongest of humankind, but that might not mean much to a pure-blooded member of a race formed by magic itself.

Hanging his head, Endrance let out a pent up breath. “Yeah.” he admitted. “If I could fly the group there, then at this distance we could get there within an hour. That would probably get us there first even if Malchoir were to be alerted.”

Valzoa stood aside Endrance, and put a hand on his shoulder. “So…” the elf started, giving the man a wink. “I heard there are three such birds of the apocalypse?”

Narrowing his eyes, Endrance slowly turned his head to look at his friend. “Yeah…” Endrance responded. “What about it?”

“What are they like?” Valzoa asked. “I know Gullin is uh, toasty, but the others?”

Endrance turned to face him. “Gullinbursti is the apocalypse of infernos.” the mage explained. “He is representative of wildfires that burn forests black, the burning heat of the desert, and even the heat of the sun.”

“Fellinbursti is the apocalypse of storms. They’re the representative of hurricanes, tornadoes, and typhoons of all kinds. More wind than lightning, but still some of that.” Endrance continued to explain. “Sillinbursti is the one I understand the least about…”

“What’s hard to understand about them?” Valzoa asked.

Endrance shrugged. “Based on what my Draugnoa tell me, they’re the youngest, hatched eons after the other two. Their domain is… metal, I think?” he shook his head. “The words they use means something along the lines of metal, but it’s also described as having power over warriors. Now, do you mind telling me why you want to know?”

Valzoa smirked. “See, I was thinking…” he started to explain, looking in the direction Endrance had been gazing a moment before. “That it would be really inconvenient if we steal Gullin back from Malchoir and he just grabs one of the other two.”

“So you’re suggesting I bind all three of them?” Endrance asked incredulously. “I can only handle one familiar bond at a time. Maybe if they were lesser spirits or perhaps living creatures I could keep all three, maybe even more, but they’re far too powerful.”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to have a supremely powerful wind spirit on my side…” Valzoa admitted. “It would fit my idiom.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Endrance felt a new headache was just around the corner. “So you’re totally willing to submit to the painful and possibly dangerous prospect of being the targeted subject of a familiar binding ritual?”

Valzoa glanced back at him. “I don’t need it for the power, but if it happens to help you, that Fellinbursti sounds like they’re totally in my wheelhouse.” he replied, emphasizing the word totally.

Endrance grumbled. “Fine.” he acquiesced. “So I need to summon all three of them, then immediately head for the center of the Mercanian capital. I hope that this works, because this will probably cost me a lot of Quintessence.”

“Quin-what?” Valzoa asked. Endrance realized he was referring to magical power by its Mercanian name, something he hadn’t ever done before. It kind of bothered him.

“Uh, magical power.” Endrance corrected. “Sorry.”

“So one for Giselle, one for me, and one for you, right?” Valzoa asked. “We should get started with the summonings.”

“I’ll need a few hours to prepare to do the summons.” Endrance replied. “But the biggest hurdle will be pulling this off without the Shatter’s random antimagic waves interfering.”

Valzoa crossed his arms, resting his hip against the railing as he closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, that’s going to be a problem, hmm…” he murmured, thinking. After a moment, he snapped his fingers. There was a mischievous glimmer in his eyes when he opened them.

“I think we just need to make you a tent!” Valzoa declared.

Endrance blinked a few times, confused. “What?” he asked.

****

A few hours later and several hundred yards away from the ship, Endrance looked over the site and blew air through his lips.

“You know…” he said, looking over the diagram drawn on parchment and then to the arrangement of panels of painted cloth set up to specifications. “I thought this would be a dumb idea at first. But this is actually better than anything I could have thought up.”

“Thanks!” Valzoa exclaimed, looking over the diagram as well. “I might not know much about magic, but what I do know a lot about is swordplay and the way wind works.”

Endrance, Valzoa, and Giselle had gone to a section of the ruins of the Mercanian capital that was mostly level. It was the side of a building that had toppled over, but the broken segment was large enough to march fifty men side by side without touching elbows, so it would be large enough for what Valzoa needed. It took some time trying to get the idea out of Valzoa’s head onto paper, but once he managed to convey the right concepts, Endrance was able to start putting the disparate facts together.

Giselle was happily on guard duty, watching the skies for more of the eyebite monsters. She had been given basic archery instructions by Tanya during their journey, so she was at least capable of hitting a target in average conditions. Moreso, her presence was enough to deter the wary birds who had come to respect the danger that a bow represented.

With the rest of Endrance’s party collecting materials, he was able to focus on converting the parts they had brought with them into the proper shapes. Mostly, he had to reshape their one and only spare sail into dozens of panels that could be hooked into poles set in the stone. At Valzoa’s directions, Endrance set up the poles at varying angles before slipping the sail panels into it. It looked more like a twenty-five yard wide hut than a tent.

A hut made of dozens of panels in oddly arranged concentric rings. Only from a distance did it actually look like a building, though. Up close it seemed more like a lot of banners set up around and over a circular plaza. He didn’t understand the complexities of it at all, but from what he did understand the panels were designed with the purpose of allowing wind to flow through them, but be channeled up and out instead of into the center of the area. It wasn’t going to stop air from flowing in, but it greatly blunted the wind’s effect to a tiny trickle compared to a hurricane.

All Endrance had to do was use his recent developments trying to defeat the antimagic energies of the Shatter to enchant each and every panel to shunt the chaotic energy along with the wind. It was way harder than Endrance should have let it be, since he was initially trying to figure out how to make the sails actually direct the chaotic energies. Eventually, Valzoa gently reminded him that all he needed was to make the sails proof against the Quintessence, and the rest would happen naturally.

Checking the diagram one last time, Endrance held the parchment out to Valzoa. “Last check before I go in there.”

Valzoa shook his head. “I’m feeling it out now.” he replied, his eyes unfocused. “Yeah. The wind is flowing perfectly. You’re confident that the magic’s flowing the same way?”

“Even if it doesn’t exactly flow the same way, this is probably the best windbreak I could have.” Endrance admitted. “I’ll go in and get started carving the circle.”

“You’re going to carve it?” Valzoa asked, curiously following the mage as he walked in. It wasn’t secure against any creatures; it was easy to slip between the panels and weave their way inside. Giselle let out a yip and followed after, easily slipping in behind them.

There was actually only fifteen yards of open area in the center. The panels and the gaps for air flow took up five meters all the way around. Even so, that much space was enough for Endrance to work in.

“Yeah.” Endrance replied after squeezing past the last of the magically-treated sailcloth panels. He immediately noticed that the sound of the breeze suddenly died off as he entered into the central area. He paused, tilting his head. “Uh… Carving it would let me stabilize the spell further, and ensure that there is something to take the backlash instead of me if things mess up.”

“It’s so cool!” Giselle breathed. She then went off to run about the circle of sails, looking at everything.

“The stone will?” Valzoa asked. “I don’t know anything about earth magic.”

“It’s magic circle theory. Not earth magic, really.” Endrance replied. “Carving channels for magical power means that I don’t have to sustain the spell form in my body, which means that if the spell form explodes…”

“Ah, so you don’t pop.” Valzoa responded, nodding with understanding. “Prudent. Maybe there’s something to your human magic after all.”

“There’s a lot to our human magic.” Endrance agreed, standing at the edge of where he intended the circle to be. “Giselle! Don’t touch that!” He turned back to Valzoa. “But for you, most of it is useless. However, the most key trait about human magic is, well, we push our boundaries. Hard.”

“But why?” Valzoa asked. “You’re just blowing yourselves up or turning into liches or transforming into wolf-people. If you just used what’s natural then you’d be a lot safer.”

Endrance squatted, touching the stone with one hand. He grunted in frustration before standing again. “Gotta shuck this.” he grunted, yanking off his gloves and tucking them into his belt before reaching up and pulling off his helmet. He remained still for a second, feeling.

The chaotic bursts of the Shatter had diminished to the point that they were hardly noticeable. If anything, instead of a confusing, nausea and pain-inducing pulse, it felt like there was a faint breeze that occasionally tickled his senses. Endrance let out a sigh of relief before setting his helmet and gloves on the ground next to them.

“Oh, and about not pushing it…” Endrance started to reply as he went to also strip off his armored coat. “If we did that then humans would have no magic at all. It’s not like we’re actually capable of sustaining magical energy naturally. Our species is pretty much defined by our audacity, bucking the rules to further our development.” Endrance folded the coat as best he could before setting it next to the helmet. “So the answer is really that we pushed our boundaries just by learning magic, so why not just see how far we can go?”

Valzoa let out a laugh, touching his face with a hand as he did so. “How beautifully insane!” he cheered. “This kind of attitude is what makes your people so interesting!”

Endrance shrugged. “I’m sure we’re like butterflies to you.” he said, crouching again. His boots made his feet feel a little numb, but the rest of his magical senses actually seemed sharper after having spent so much time being stifled by the armor. “Being so short lived and reckless.”

Valzoa chuckled, still riding his mirth from earlier. “Yeah, but there’s a brilliance to you that you don’t see with elves. You’re more like… the luminous butterflies of Sofran’s peak.”

“So… we’re shiny butterflies.” Endrance concluded, chuckling. He started casting a long-form spell, something that he would not have thought he could have done in the Shatter. Completing the spell, he touched the ground again, channeling the spellwork into the stone. With a sharp grating sound, the channels and grooves needed for the ritual started cutting themselves into existence. He had found a few spells in his collective memories that worked stone, and had selected the one that was designed just for this purpose.

It was the same spell that had been used to create the demon-summoning circle in the secret chamber of Balator’s castle. The room has since been recycled into a safe room for the current king. It looked significantly less infernal that way.

“Yep.” Valzoa confirmed. “Shiny butterflies. That sometimes explodes. You’re not insects to us though; one of you has the potential to kill us as easily as one of us can kill you. But as analogies go, yeah. You’re a bit on the short-lived side.”

“Wheee!” Giselle cried out, sliding across the stone on her knees as she flapped her arms. “I’m a furry butterfly!”

Glancing at the girl briefly to ensure she wasn’t interfering, Endrance supervised the development of the circle. He was doing it layer by layer, using separate castings for each segment so that it would be easier to check and fix any errors. Nodding in satisfaction, Endrance replied without looking at Valzoa. “I don’t think anything of it.” he replied. “I mean, personally I’ll outlive all of you. Including the elves.”

Valzoa shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll find it boring after a while.” he said. “You humans would be insufferably bored if you had to plan your lives in centuries instead of decades.”

“I am going to live that long, and I still don’t know how I’ll manage. I’m not even in my thirties yet.” Endrance replied. “Hells, I’m not even fully human so who knows.”

“Great spirits, you’re doomed.” Valzoa jibed. “After such an explosive childhood, what are you going to do with all this time?”

The first spell finished, so Endrance did a quick check before starting the next layer. “No clue.” he answered. “Figured I’d worry about that if I survive this stupidity.”

Valzoa looked concerned. “I didn’t think that the familiar spell would be that dangerous!” he protested. “I won’t—”

Endrance held up a hand, stopping him. Quickly he glanced at Giselle before speaking. “Not that.” he said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to defeat my father without paying a cost. Everything we know about magic stemmed from his research. I can’t guarantee he doesn’t know some fundamental secret that would let him simply undo everything I’ve built up for the coming fight.”

“You’re gonna live.” Giselle said, trying to climb one of the sails. “Or Bridget’s gonna kill ya!”

Endrance glared at her, tilting his head towards the ground. Giselle froze, gulped, and slid off the sail. Valzoa studied Endrance for a few seconds in silence. “It’s a good thing you spent years learning life magic, then?” he asked.

Endrance looked up at him. “Well, yeah, but I have two problems with that. The first is that while I was learning life magic, Valeria was interfering with my education. I did not make nearly as much progress as I could have. Secondly, I can barely use any life magic without Pentarch.”

“That was your staff, right?” Valzoa asked. “I remember hearing Joven complaining you lost it after all that work he put into finding someone to help you complete it.”

Endrance setup the last spell to carve the circle. “Hey, he’s not done complaining about it.” Endrance countered. “He just forgot to bring it up recently.”

With the circle for the familiar ritual completed, Endrance went to make the last final touches. He had intentionally left the space for each phrase in the magical script that specified what he was binding as a simple blank slate of marble. He went to each, carefully prying them out of the stone floor. He walked off to the side of the circle, and reshaped some of the loose marble rubble to form identical copies of the slates. On one set, he put in Gullinbursti, the next Fellinbursti, and the last Sillinbursti.

With that finished, he turned to Valzoa. “Do you have some coin I could use to inlay these?” he asked. “I usually use gold, but silver could also work. Basically I need a precious metal.”

“Would platinum do?” Valzoa asked, checking his belt pouch. “I kind of lost all my loose change betting with Eleale.”

Endrance pinched the bridge of his nose. “That would be even better than gold, so yeah.” he concluded. “If you could spare it. I know I already owe you for hiring this crew—”

“Think nothing of it.” Valzoa interjected, pulling more platinum coins out of the pouch than there would have been capacity. He put them in Endrance’s hands, catching the few coins that spilled from his grasp. “Consider this and the crew part of my payment for you binding one of the most powerful familiars in the world for me.”

“Sir.” Endrance stated, looking over the pure platinum disks in his hands. “If money was a school of magic, you’d be the Archmagus.”

Valzoa gave him a quizzical look, smiling faintly. “Why, thank you.” he replied. Endrance had already turned away to use fire magic and melt the coins down. With swift, precise motions, Endrance melted a coin in his hand and poured it into the carved stones, making sure the metal was evenly distributed and there were no splatters or gaps. It was a wire-thin line of platinum, but the metal’s inclusion made Endrance feel far more secure about the coming ritual.

Selene landed outside the windbreak, sliding in with only a little difficulty. In her hand was the lantern containing Gullin. “I got him.” she declared. She stopped the moment she got inside the circle of sails, her eyes widening. “It’s so quiet in here.” Selene whispered. Giselle ran up to her and hugged her, her furry arms wrapping around Selene’s ample hips.

“Selene!” Giselle stage whispered. “I’m a furry butterfly!”

You are… Gullin said to Endrance, looking as best he could from within the lantern. You are going to call a replacement for me, it seems.

Sort of! Endrance replied in a cheerful tone. I just felt that I could use all the backup I could get.

I do not understand. Gullin replied. If this is the case, why did you bring me here?

Because I agreed to give you to my apprentice. Endrance replied, sending sensations of trust and pride. You were a vital guide in my early years, and I can’t trust that anyone else could guide her and protect her as well as you did me.

Endrance felt a large upswell of both happiness and guilt from Gullin. I… thank you. The familiar said. If you can perform the master binding, I promise you that I will stay by her side for the rest of her days. I will not even complain about my size.

I should be thanking you. Endrance countered. With the way I have had to treat you lately…

Think nothing of it. Gullin replied. Since my current state is a liability, it is imperative you correct it before Malchoir can exploit you.

Endrance walked over, holding out his hand for the lantern. Selene handed it over to him silently, recognizing the slightly-distracted look on his face that she had seen over the years that told her he was talking with his familiar. Endrance hefted the lantern up, looking his familiar over one last time.

I… guess this is the end, huh? Endrance asked. I’ll never talk to you again, will I?

Gullin lowered his head, chirping sadly. This is goodbye… he confirmed. But I will still be able to pass messages along through one of my siblings, or through Giselle in fact.

Still… it won’t be the same. Endrance replied. A tear formed at the corner of his eye as he said his final goodbyes.

Do not worry. Gullin replied. You’ll be busy dealing with whichever sibling you chose. They are… different.

I’ll worry about that when it happens. Goodbye, my friend. I’ll miss hearing your voice.

You will still hear my physical voice. Gullin replied, himself transmitting a little grief in his mental tone. I’ll sing for you one day.

As a Fjallar, otherwise known as a rooster that crows to announce the apocalypse, Gullin promising to sing for him had a significance that Endrance wouldn’t know. Perhaps it meant that he would live until the end of all things, or perhaps it meant that he would be the cause of the end. Endrance would never know that it really meant that Gullin felt that his death would be as much of a loss as the end of the world.

Endrance reached up and opened the lantern, sending the mental command to return Gullin to the realm from which he came. The firebird erupted out of the lantern, turning into a stream of red and orange flames before arcing towards Endrance’s back and disappearing just above the surface. The mental link with Gullin snapped at that moment, leaving Endrance with a hollow sensation in his psyche.

****

He closed his eyes, slowly regaining control of his emotions. He became aware of someone holding his legs, and looked down to see Giselle was now hugging him instead of Selene.

“Don’t be sad.” she said. “He’s gonna be okay!”

“Yeah.” Selene said, smiling. “He’s going to no longer be stuck between two masters. I know for a fact how hard that is.”

Endrance gave them a wan smile. “Thanks.” he said. “Let’s get started. Valzoa, you ready?”

“Familiar me.” The elf declared, obviously excited. “What do I do?”

“Stand in the center of the circle.” Endrance directed, taking the Fellinbursti tablets and setting them in the proper slots and orientations. The slates fit perfectly in the platinum-lined sockets.

Valzoa took his position, somehow managing to look both excited and supremely casual at the same time. “Ready.” he stated.

“Okay, I’ll be powering the ritual and doing all the binding stuff, you just need to… well, allow the magic to affect you. Got it?”

Valzoa looked at his hand for a second before giving Endrance a thumbs up. “Is this how you say ‘okay’?” he asked, smirking. Endrance rolled his eyes, kneeling down and touching the edge of the circle.

He flowed just a spark of power into the circle, feeling out how it moved through the carved marble. He wasn’t using enough to start the spell, instead waiting for the spell to make a full circuit back to him so he could confirm it was complete. Once assured of that, he confirmed that the ‘tickle’ of the Shatter wouldn’t interfere.

Endrance poured Quintessence into the circle, letting the connection flush with as much as it could channel. The lines of platinum began to radiate a pure, soft white light. It wasn’t long before the circle’s spell completed the connection. Air started to seep out of the lines, and water welled up from the surface, soaking the ground around the spell as the smell of rain filled the air.

A ball of flickering light and clouds rose from the surface directly in front of Valzoa. Though getting fashionably soaked to the bone, Valzoa simply spread his arms and tilted his head up to the form. The ball burst, sending cloudstuff, small arcs of lightning, and rainwater spraying in all directions.

What remained was a three foot tall gray and blue bird with the body of some kind of falcon, and the crown and wattles of a rooster. It had an angular build and a long yet slender set of tail feathers. Its eyes cracked with inner lightning, and mist-ladened air drifted off the tips of its feathers. The creature stared at Valzoa for several seconds.

At the same time, Endrance engaged the creature in a different kind of battle of wills than had been done before. When he had summoned Gullin, there had been no challenge, because it wasn’t summoned by a master circle. If he failed the challenge, Fellinbursti would have the freedom to choose to stay or not.

You are not the elf in front of me. A vaguely masculine voice sounded in Endrance’s head. He sounded different from Gullin, in that his voice was sharper, a little more shrill. So what is the occasion that you would risk summoning me, the great apocalypse of storms, for a mere elf?

The occasion? Endrance replied, rallying his willpower. He’s a wind-elemental sword fighter who fell in love with the idea of increasing his arts by forming a relationship with you.

That… is ridiculous. Fellinbursti replied. He began pushing back against Endrance’s will. To his surprise, the Fjallar felt as if he had flown full speed into a wall made of steel. Endrance felt the mental equivalent of him shaking his head to try to clear it. Ouch.

Endrance didn’t really feel like the Fjallar had tried that hard. Did you want to try again? He asked. Use your full strength this time, so that way you can’t complain it was an unfair contest of wills.

The stormbird rallied its mental strength and went at Endrance’s mind hard. In the physical world, the Fjallar suddenly stiffened, let out a strangled cry, and fell to the floor in a heap, splashing in the water. Endrance’s eyes widened out of surprise.

Valzoa opened an eye, looking around until he discovered his familiar on the ground. “Uh…” the elf said eloquently. “Was this supposed to happen?”

Endrance shook his head, blinking a few times incredulously. “He… knocked himself out trying to win control over the spell.” he admitted. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Does this mean you win?” Giselle asked, keeping the goal in mind.

Endrance nodded. “Yep.” he replied, mentally finishing the spell, which bound the Fjallar to Valzoa. Other than a somewhat strange wriggling sensation in the elf’s mind, nothing else seemed to change. “Oh, pick him up and get out of the circle. I need to do the next one.”

“Are you sure it’s going to work though?” Valzoa protested, picking up the bird.

Endrance shook his head. “You’ll figure it out when he wakes up.” he hinted. Checking his own condition, Endrance was pleased to see he had only spent a fraction of the power of one of his meridian nexus points. He also discovered to his amazement that in the short period of time he had been out of his armor, his aura was already a quarter full.

Valzoa carried the soggy avian out of the way, and Endrance used a quick spell to suck up the water and lob it out of the windbreak. The moment it was out of the protective shelter of the break, the magic containing the water was burst by the chaos of the Shatter, splashing to the stone outside.

Endrance changed out the tiles for the next. As he finished, he had to gently move Giselle back out of the circle.

“Yours is last.” Endrance corrected. “I don’t want Malchoir to have any time to react.”

“Aww…” Giselle moaned, walking out in a slump.

Activating the circle from within was actually easier, so Endrance went right into summoning Sillinbursti.

This time, the circle didn’t seem to bear any elemental leakage like had happened with Gullinbursti or Fellinbursti’s conjurings. Instead, there was just a single resonant tone, like a crystal goblet with water was rung.

Liquid silver seemed to seep up out of the stone, pooling in front of Endrance’s feet. The liquid started to drip upwards, forming a spiral of silver-threaded droplets. Endrance maintained his focus and concentration, but he was surprised with how the summoning was happening. Maybe everyone misunderstood what this Fjallar’s abilities were.

The droplets rapidly flowed up, sucking up the puddle of metal until it was all in the air. The cloud of metallic drops coalesced together into a bird-like shape, with its wings closed around its body. In an instant, the wings snapped open and the metal seemed to ‘set’ into a solid form, revealing a sleek silver bird just barely small enough to fit in the space they had prepared for the circle. Its body looked almost like a dove of some sort, except that it too had the crown and wattles of a rooster. The Fjallar had eyes of obsidian flecked with gold.

It hovered in the air without needing to flap its expansive hammered-silver feathered wings. Instead, the feathers all seemed to be trembling and vibrating and was the source of the crystal tone that they had heard before. Its tail feathers were like the blades of swords, and overall the Fjallar’s body radiated the kind of menace that came from being held at knife point.

You are Endrance. Sellinbursti stated, its voice sounding regal without really having a defined gender. Endrance did get a vaguely feminine impression from all the non-verbal information being exchanged.

Yes. Endrance replied. Do you know me?

Sellinbursti nodded physically. Of course. I know the names of all who are qualified to become my master.

That… bodes well for my chances here, then. Endrance replied. So how do I qualify?

If the bird could have smirked, she would be, based on the tone of its mental voice. Your deeds resonate with me the most of all my siblings. As I am the embodiment of the metallic apocalypse. Death by unnatural means.

Unnatural means… Endrance replied slowly. You mean you’re the ending brought about by murder?

Murders, war, genocides, whole peoples put to death by the sword. The Fjallar confirmed. But also the peaceful death of a people who chose to let themselves die off instead of continue on in decline. I am also a spirit of bravery, and of rage.

Endrance narrowed his eyes, thinking. That explains why you came into being eons after your siblings. He reasoned. Sentient people hadn’t existed up until that point.

The Fjallar floated down some before replying. Yes, that is true. She replied, transmitting a sense of pride over his ability to reason quickly.

So how do I resonate with you the most? Endrance asked. I was thinking I probably had more in common with Fellinbursti, with all the lightning magic I fight with.

You are the only hybrid of two peoples steeped in unnatural deaths. She replied. And you… you have yet a hand to play in one of my songs.

Indeed. Endrance confirmed. I am going to be engaging the last Mercanian soon. If I mess things up, I guess you’ll have reason to sing then.

So shall we begin? Sellinbursti asked, physically landing on their feet. I yield to you, master.

Yeah. Let’s go. Endrance replied, feeling relief. What should I call you?

I have many monikers, titles, and epithets. Sellinbursti replied. But since you and I will be fast friends from here on, you may call me Silvy.

At that moment, the contest of wills ended, and the spell finalized. Endrance felt the connection between Silvy and him locked into place, but it felt a whole lot more solid than the one he had with Gullin. Silvy took stock of his mental domain, including the library of his mind, and clucked appreciatively. Then it sensed the circle on his back.

That will need to be changed. It informed. Here, let me guide you.

It was surprisingly easy to make the adjustments to the circle on his back. Once it was done, the connection between Silvy and Endrance felt a little more complete. It also caused the inner circles on his back to change their contents.

Endrance smiled. Thank you, Silvy. He said. Do you want to shrink down? The atmosphere outside is not comfortable.

Of course. Silvy replied, shrinking down and taking flight. She reduced in size to that of a real dove and flew towards Endrance’s back. She rippled in the air, disappearing as she entered the circle. At that moment, Endrance felt one of Silvy’s abilities activate.

As Endrance stepped out of the circle, a pair of wings sprouted from his back — the silver that formed the wings flowing out of his pores like he was sweating mercury. They spread, and Endrance could feel the physical weight of them was significant.

This way we can fly together. Silvy said. My feathers are sharp as blades, so use them in battle as well.

Gullin had once given him the ability to fly with wings of fire, but Endrance hadn’t used it often. It seemed that Silvy’s temperament was satisfied with residing within him, providing him benefits without herself being corporeal.

“Woah…” Giselle whispered in awe. Selene nodded in agreement, her square-pupiled eyes glittering with the reflections of light along the finely detailed silver feathers.

“Yeah…” Selene murmured in response. “Woah.”

Valzoa held out a hand dismissively. “Well, I’ve seen prettier.” he admitted.

Oh, we should kill him. Silvy stated.

Silvy, no!

“But,” Valzoa continued. “I don’t think the wings could fly, being made of gold and diamonds. And it didn’t have actual muscles. It was a prop.”

… Fine. He can live.

He better, he’s bonded to your brother. Endrance chided.

Silvy seemed to observe him replacing the tiles in the circle through his eyes. Oh, you mean Fellinbursti. She replied. Surprisingly more of a hothead than Gullinbursti, who is made of fire.

Endrance finished the final setup. By this point Fellinbursti woke up, and started conversing with Valzoa. It seemed that they were going to get along just fine, once Fellinbursti got over himself.

He gave Giselle the instructions, making sure to go over each one multiple times to be absolutely sure she knew to obey them. She put on a serious face, but her tail was wagging everywhere in excitement. Endrance took a moment to pour the contents of his aura into his nexus meridians, and then started on the last summoning.

This time, when he began to do the summon, the circle glowed red. Endrance could feel the sudden halting, jittering flow of power that came from the spell finding the familiar called upon already had a master. After a few seconds, Endrance felt the first hurdle of completing the summoning crash into him.

Malchoir didn’t want to let Gullin go. Naturally, the Mercanian pitted his will up against whoever it was that was trying to wrest control from him. Thankfully the contest didn’t exactly let Endrance know he was struggling against Malchoir, but since he already knew who the other owner was it wasn’t hard to be mentally prepared.

Endrance went at his opponent hard, hammering into Malchoir’s will from the very start. His opponent actually budged, which gave Endrance a renewed sense of purpose. Instead of trying to match wills in the contest, Endrance instead went at it like he was trying to crush his opponent’s psyche. If he could win, then great, but if he could at least do some damage to his father’s psyche, then losing the contest of wills wouldn’t be such a loss.

The other will pushed back crushing in on Endrance from all sides, whereas Endrance was pushing forward in a concentrated and hard way. He could feel that though Malchoir’s will was pressuring him, he wasn’t feeling the pain he thought he should.

Oh I see. Silvy commented, observing. It seems that you have a little bit of scarring in your mind. I do not think it is possible for you to actually suffer pain from this, but do be careful.

It turned out that the brain damage from his early encounter with a succubus had deadened his mind to the severity of pressure he would experience in a contest of wills. That made his mind extremely hard to overcome, and Endrance took that as a good reason to push all the harder.

What felt like minutes stretched on and on. The contest didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Endrance felt he was making progress, but it was granular gains for a massive amount of effort. It was possible that he would tire or blow a blood vessel in his brain before Malchoir lost the contest.

Outside, the circle continued to pulse, and Giselle was stuck in the center watching Endrance with worry overtaking her. She could see where others couldn’t. She could see the blood dripping from his nose like an open wound. She was faithfully staying in place, however, and could only whine in anxiety as he struggled on her behalf.

The contest finally broke when Endrance felt a third entity make its decision. The creature being summoned seemed to have suddenly decided to throw its own will into the matter, siding with Endrance. There was a feeling of something in the enemy breaking, and then contact with the other will vanished.

The circle erupted in a blaze of flames as Gullin exploded into existence again, crying out in victory. Selene screamed in fear as Giselle shrieked, completely engulfed in fire. However, the flames all sucked up into Gullin’s wings as he settled down on the stone in front of the girl. He bowed his head to her, and looked over to Endrance. For a split second, Endrance felt a sensation of gratitude from the Fjallar before the binding set and Gullin became Giselle’s.

Since she was just an apprentice, and unlike Valzoa or Endrance didn’t have a lot of magical power, Gullin immediately shrank several sizes until he was a fuzzy chick of a bird the size of a clenched fist. Chirping happily, Gullin flew up to land on Giselle’s head to do a little dance.

Giselle clapped her hands, her mouth hanging open in glee. “I can hear him in my head!” she cheered. “Whoo!”

The ground underneath them shook. At first it was a light tremor, but almost immediately after a much more severe quake rocked them. Endrance looked over at the others, who were then aghast at the bloody look of his face.

“He’s not happy.” Endrance declared. “And he was closer to the capital than I thought! We need to go!”

Chapter Thirty Three

Endrance didn’t have time to clean up the site they had placed the circle on, but his worries about it being used later were quickly resolved when the segment of building it was built on cracked and began falling apart. Since they could all now fly, either on their own or being carried in the case of Giselle, they quickly made their way back to the ship.

“What the hells did you do?” Joven shouted when he watched them landing. He seemed to either have not noticed that Endrance was flying with silver bladed wings, had assumed it was part of what was going wrong, or just didn’t care.

“Why is it always my fault?!” Endrance shouted. Around them, the crew was busy making sure the ship was safely away from any obstacles or shifting buildings. In addition, the Draugnoa were coming up in the process of strapping on any armor or weapons they could carry. Anna was carrying a simple shield and spear, since they hadn’t exactly planned on equipping her before everything went to hell.

Joven pointed to his side at a large multi-story building that was slowly rising out of the water, but crumbling apart at the same time so it wasn’t really getting any taller. “This kind of shit?” Joven asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s got ‘Endrance did something with magic’ written all over it.”

“That’s harsh.” Endrance replied, folding his wings closed back into his body so they’d be less of a burden. It turned out that Silvy couldn’t manifest the wings outside of his armor coat, which he had wanted to throw on in a rush before trying to fly home. Since they were a physical thing, sort of, it wasn’t possible for him to use them without making modifications to his armor. Now that the wings were gone, he started pulling the armor back on again. “It’s true, but still harsh.”

“He successfully summoned all three of the Fjallar.” Selene reported. “He’s bound to one, and Valzoa has another.”

“And I have Gullin!” Giselle blurted, holding up the fuzzball-form Gullin. Joven’s eyes widened, pursing his lips.

“Ah.” Joven finally responded, patting Gullin on the head before taking a step away. “You’ve managed to summon three apocalyptic heralds in just one day. You do realize how ominous that sounds, right?”

“I mean…” Endrance pulled his helmet on with certainty before grabbing his gloves. “The thought crossed my mind. Better we control them than Malchoir, right?”

Joven crossed his arms, grunting.

Curious. Silvy replied in Endrance’s head. His essence is touched by a spirit.

Endrance went belowdecks to get his daggers and his other supplies he had prepared for his confrontation with Malchoir. Yeah, the Furie, I think it’s called.

Oh! Silvy replied, conveying pleasant surprise. That’s someone I know.

You do?

Yes. They are a lesser spirit that I created in my first millenia of life. You know, youthful recklessness. Silvy replied. I was wondering what she was up to. With the strength I am feeling coming off of that man, I would say that she has grown considerably.

You… made the Furie? Endrance asked, shocked.

I made a manifestation of my aspect of rage and fury. It grew over time and after some opportunities, became an individual with her own will and volition. Silvy explained.

So you can control that rage, right? Endrance asked. If so, I have some people I need you to help when we get back to Balator.

All right, Silvy replied, I am not usually the helping-people-type, but you are certainly someone worth making exceptions for.

“We’re all ready to get going.” Joven reported. Endrance looked around, and found that Selene, Anna, Tanya, and Bridget were all packed and had their weapons. Joven stood near Valzoa and Giselle. The rest of the ship’s crew were still standing around, but were obviously going to remain with the vessel.

“Are you coming with us, Valzoa?” Endrance asked. “I know I just asked for a crew for the boat, but—”

“Ship!” Eleale called out angrily.

“Yes.” Valzoa replied. “I’m going to help you finish this.”

“So…” Joven said, looking around. “What now?”

“Well,” Endrance replied, smiling. “We take the short route.”

Joven frowned “What’s that?”

Silvy? You can grow to full size out here, right? Endrance asked.

She replied by leaving Endrance’s body. A small silver dove circled the air for a brief moment before landing on Endrance’s shoulder. She chirped before taking off again, rising into the sky before expanding in size. The area around the ship fell into darkness as Sillinbursti’s massive body eclipsed the suns. Her wingspan was wider than Gullin’s by a large margin, but her body shape was leaner.

She landed on a ruined building nearby, collapsing some of it with the force of her impact. She might have been leaner in shape, but being formed of silver made her significantly denser. Turning her head, she let out an ear-ringing squawk. Joven rolled his eyes, walking towards that edge of the ship and climbing over the railing. Valzoa plucked up Giselle and flew off into the air.

With Selene and Valzoa’s help, everyone was able to climb on top of Silvy. When she took off, it was a jarring experience, but one that they had been used to riding on Gullin before. Fellinbursti and Gullin flew alongside their sister, with Fellinbursti flitting around like a falcon and Gullin buzzing along with the rapid flapping of his tiny juvenile-stage wings.

If you had done this beforehand, we could have skipped most of the time you had spent traveling. Silvy observed, proudly gliding through the auroras of magical energy like a ship’s keel cutting through the wake.

Endrance shook his head, looking out over the world below as they flew. Not likely, he replied, I only recently developed the protective gear everyone has, and you probably won’t like continued exposure to the Shatter any more than Gullin did.

It is the product of a Mercanian weapon. Silvy replied. I actually felt it when the weapon activated. It was one of the few times I sang.

Do you know what it did?

Silvy’s eyes scanned the land beneath them. Hardly, but I can tell you that if the spell had worked the way it had intended, I would not have sang for it. The way it was used was uncontrolled, and the backlash caused the most senseless deaths. Which, as you know, is something I am deeply connected to.

Endrance was wondering if it was simply because of the brief introduction and acclimation period he’s had with the familiar, but it seemed not necessarily more malicious than her brother, but at least more willing to talk about the gruesome details of their duties than Gullin had.

There. Silvy stated, drawing Endrance’s attention to a section of the city. Hanging carefully on her feathers for fear of falling off, Endrance looked over the area.

There was a circular disk of the city that seemed wholly intact. Like a puck of ice floating on top of water, the segment seemed entirely untouched by the rest of the shatter. Even saying that, the segment seemed to be only slightly smaller than the entirety of Ironsoul’s capital. It was composed of some kind of plaza with a building in the center, with a gold-capped dome for a roof.

“There it is!” Endrance called out, pointing with one hand. Take us in, Silvy.

On it.

And, thank you. Endrance added. Silvy responded with a transmission of embarrassed pleasure from Endrance’s gratitude.

As the silverbird descended, Endrance used his prosthetic eye to zoom in on the scene they were heading towards. He was hoping to find signs of whether or not Malchoir had made it in yet. With the way the earth was shifting, he thought that the Mercanian was now hurriedly tunneling or even blasting his way up, but it was possible that he had slipped ahead of them and the tremors were the aftershocks of Malchoir moving quickly.

A crystalline shape perched atop a structure on the outer edge of the intact section of the city caught Endrance’s attention. The light glinted off the massive crystal’s facets, and Endrance’s eyes narrowed. He had seen something like that before, in Ironsoul—

“Incoming!” Endrance shouted, ducking. Silvy shrieked indignantly as a ray of red light snapped out of the crystal at the top of the structure, instantly making contact with the Fjallar. As a testament to the power of one of the apocalypse birds, Silvy was only mildly injured by the hit, but it was significant enough to cause her to take evasive action. Since the group was riding on her back, a considerable amount of panic and screaming was heard as she banked quickly. Except for Valzoa who was cheering at the high-velocity ride like it was a fairground ride.

It was a surprise that no one who could fly leapt off the Fjallar’s back, but the tower’s rays were frighteningly dangerous. It was more likely they were willing to let the metal bird give them cover.

Fellinbursti and Gullin separated without making a sound, taking their own fast and evasive movements. The crystal fired rays several more times, but with them on their guard now it missed several times. There were a few glancing blows that nearly sent the crew flying off Silvy’s back, but the Fjallar wasn’t deterred from continuing her forward thrust.

Silvy swooped in, diving towards the rooftops and ruins beneath them. The only person who did not look distressed at all barreling face-first towards the ground was Valzoa, who had been used to doing similar maneuvers and was actually cheering in enjoyment while everyone else was screaming in panic. At the last possible second, Silvy pulled up, skimming the tops of the ruins and even utterly destroying bits of rubble she clipped with her massive body along the way. She shot towards the city center on a lightning fast glide, without room to flap her wings.

The crystal defense tower snapped out several more ruby rays of light. The beams of light shot past their faces as they approached, the fire rate of the crystal getting faster but less precise the closer they got.

Gullin, who was still a small puffball, was the first struck by a beam of light. There was an explosion and a simultaneous scream from both Gullin, and from his master Giselle when it hit. Gullin, wreathed in smoke and no longer flying, fell behind them to bounce off the ruins as he tumbled to a stop.

“Gullin!” Giselle shrieked, turning to look for him despite her precarious position on Silvy’s back. She had felt the transmitted damage and pain that Gullin had experienced right at that point, causing her to lose the last vestiges of control. Joven scooped the howling wolf-girl under one arm.

At the same time, Endrance felt a sudden twinge of dread. It wasn’t a sensory thing with his armor on, but rather a gut feeling. Scrambling forwards, Endrance put himself in front of the huddling companions and used his teeth to rip the glove off his right hand. He pointed at the crystal sentry and flooded Quintessence into his lightning spell. As always when he put maximum power into the spell, the lightning flashed out like a ray instead of a jagged bolt of electricity. The ray flickered across the space between them, but stopped just as it was about to cross into the unbroken section of city. Where it hit rippled, causing multiple layers of magical barriers and wards to become visible and highly luminous.

Keep damaging it! Silvy demanded, keeping up her momentum by using whatever sonic powers her feathers had to let her hover in the air. Endrance kept flowing power into the spell, and the ray maintained continuous contact with the barrier. As he did so, the barrier started rippling and warping under the assault.

There was only a few hundred yards of distance left, and that expanse was shrinking rapidly. Endrance screamed out, his voice piercing through the cacophony of his companions screaming behind him. Silvy did not slow, instead seeming to pick up speed. Despite his serious desire to, Endrance could not find the strength to close his eyes even as the barrier seemed to close the distance in an instant. Endrance’s ray spell had gotten half the entire city circle’s wards to light up, and cracks had started to form just as Silvy flew right into it just under where Endrance was shooting.

The barrier shattered, thankfully, exploding like it had been a glowing orange pane of glass. Splinters and shards of orange light fluttered through the air, fizzling away. Silvy managed to get her feet under her and skidded to a stop immediately after. Endrance took the opportunity to swing his arm before ceasing the flow of power to his spell, and raked his lightning ray across the stone tower that supported the crystal sentry.

The building was cut clean through at an angle, causing the top portion to slide to the side before collapsing entirely, taking the crystal down and out of sight in the process. At the same time, Silvy collapsed to the ground, dumping the group off her back in the process. Valzoa was the only one to dismount the Fjallar and land on his feet gracefully, while the rest spilled awkwardly across the polished marble floor.

I apologize. Silvy expressed, sounding extremely faint. I took a few hits coming in. I will be fine, but it will take a few minutes to recover from that.

After that, Silvy became mentally silent as she went into a kind of recovery sleep.

Endrance picked himself up from the light-colored stone floor of the exterior plaza. Turning, he went to his friends and checked they were okay. Bridget and Joven were on their feet before Endrance had stood, and Selene was trying to drag Tanya out from under Silvy’s wing. Anna was nowhere to be seen. Endrance joined Tanya in lifting Silvy’s wing, and they were able to extract the dazed Draugnoa without any difficulty. Giselle had been wrapped in Joven’s massive arms, and was relatively unharmed.

They found Anna had been dislodged along with everyone else, but she had managed to catch herself before falling off. Endrance finally spotted her standing on the highest part of Silvy’s massive body, looking around using her shield to keep the sun out of her eyes.

“Is the metal bird going to be alright?” Joven asked.

Endrance looked over Silvy, nodding. “She’s mostly okay.” he reported. “But it might take her a while to recover. Giselle, can you still feel Gullin?”

The wolf-girl sniffled, nodding. “He’s on his way back.” she replied.

Endrance glanced at Valzoa, who was standing to the side. Fellinbursti perched on the elf’s arm, having shrunk down to the size of an ordinary falcon. It seemed that Valzoa had already grasped how to use his familiar effectively. He looked up, catching Endrance’s eye, and nodded.

“We need to keep moving.” Endrance said aloud, “Anna?”

Anna slid down the side of Silvy’s body, landing on her feet. “I don’t like this place.” she declared. “Something feels wrong. My body is shivering as if I am afraid, but I don’t know why.”

Endrance didn’t feel anything like that, but he was experiencing an interesting reaction. It was like the place had been a bubble of safety from the chaotic powers of the Shatter, but their arrival had ruptured that peace. The barrier he had punched through had a hole in it, and chaos was bleeding into the plaza because of it.

Peering out, he noticed that the ground outside had stabilized, filling in the water channels in the area around the plaza with debris until it was all relatively smooth and flat terrain for some distance around them. The ship seemed to have stayed out of the range of the damage, however, as Endrance could barely make out the mast and sails of the ship in the distance.

“Gullin!” Giselle shouted, running to the edge of the plaza. She had spotted the little puffball floating his way over to her from a distance. Bobbing and swaying, it seemed that Gullin had taken some serious damage from the sentry crystal’s magical strike. Anna rushed to keep up with the wolf, catching her before she could jump off the plaza.

“Let me go!” Giselle screamed. “I need to help him!”

Anna looked back at Endrance. The mage nodded, and she turned back to Giselle. With her help, she lowered Giselle down to the ground outside the plaza, hopping down with her. The little wolf girl ran to her familiar, catching him when his wings gave out. Endrance felt a pang of fear for his old friend, but was also glad that Giselle was taking her responsibility as a familiar master seriously.

“Endrance!” Selene cried out, catching his attention. She pointed to the barrier around the plaza. The thin orange film of energy only showed around the breach, and the broken edges of the barrier had started to mend. Fragments of orange light drifted rapidly into the hole, closing it up.

“Giselle! Anna!” Endrance shouted. “Get back here! Run!”

Anna put an arm around Giselle and urged her to move faster. The two ran, with Giselle cradling her familiar. The barrier’s repairs seemed to get faster and faster, and by the time Anna reached the ledge up to the plaza, there was only a foot-wide opening. The woman vaulted up onto the ledge only to come up against the barrier. It didn’t harm her, but the orange light shone wherever she pushed. It closed, sealing off any chance of them getting through.

“We’re stuck!” Anna called out, looking Endrance in the eye. “Can you break it down again?”

Endrance shook his head. “I needed Sellinbursti’s strength to break through the first time, and now that she’s out I don’t think I can do it again!” he called back. At least their voices could pass the barrier. “But just stay safe out there. Once Silvy’s awake, I’ll—”

The lone, gold-domed building rang with the sound of a large, powerful bell. The vibration rang through the plaza, but wasn’t loud enough to be deafening. Instead it seemed to smooth out the chaotic energies that had slipped into the plaza. In the silence that fell in the wake of the bell, the sound of something howling drew Endrance’s attention.

As if the bell had declared it safe, numerous creatures that had fled the immediate vicinity of the plaza during the upheaval started flooding back into the expanse. Mutated beasts of many kinds ran across the ground towards the plaza, while several flying monsters joined in above. Even some of the eyebites. From the water far out on the edge, a sea serpent erupted to slither across the jumbled stone and soggy dirt that was now the land around them.

The creatures seemed to have been driven into a frenzy. Wherever they ran into each other, a fight broke out. The sea serpent was the biggest of the threats, and any creature that came up to it was squashed almost incidentally.

“Anna?” Giselle called out. “There’s bitey things coming.”

Endrance took a step back and pointed his hand at the barrier. Anna, her eyes widening, jumped down to shield Giselle. Pouring power into his lightning spell, Endrance tried to blast a hole into the barrier.

The orange energy rippled violently, but would not break no matter how much force he used. Rays of lightning strong enough to evaporate stone did little to pierce the protective spells encircling the plaza. It was quickly proven true that without the extra strength from Silvy, getting through the barrier was impossible.

“It’s not working!” Endrance called back, shaking the ash from his fingertips. “I’ll have to find a way to close the barrier from within.”

“Can you do that?” Bridget asked, her grip on her cleaving swords tightening. She was looking over the rampaging monsters and was caught between her desire to battle them and her concern for her companions on the other side.

“I don’t know, but it has to be coming from somewhere in here.” Endrance replied.

A second bell tolled, which had largely the same effect on the creatures outside. Driven into a frenzy, the strange beasts began rushing towards the plaza, only fighting when they physically ran into another beast.

The large building in the center had a pair of golden double-doors. The doors started opening on their own, slowly pushing out as if there was an invisible force behind them. Endrance turned back to Anna, looking panicked.

“Just go.” Anna said, raising her spear and shield. “I’ll keep Giselle safe. We’ll fight our way back to the ship.”

Endrance nodded, putting his hand on the barrier. His bare skin crackled with the sensation of powerful magic. Anna put her hand on the other side of it, giving him a solemn look.

“Don’t worry.” Anna said, her voice barely audible over the din of the encroaching monsters. “I’ll wait for you.”

She hopped down, adjusting her shield. “Do you have your sword, Giselle?” Anna asked. The wolf-girl lifted her blade, grinning. “Good.” she observed.

“That’s a lot of baddies, Anna.” Giselle observed.

Anna smiled. “Yes.” she replied. “That means we can practice all we want, doesn’t it?”

Giselle yipped happily, raising her sword and preparing to fight. “Oh, that’s a good point!” she called back. Endrance caught one last glance back, to see the two of them cutting their way through the approaching hordes of mutant beasts. Thankfully they only had to fight the ones that were just in their way, so they weren’t immediately overwhelmed. Anna fought defensively, using her shield and spear to keep enemies off of Giselle, who chopped through a strange six-legged coyote with glee.

****

“Let’s go.” Endrance said, walking over to Silvy. Laying a hand on her, he pulled on his connection with the familiar to draw her into his body. It was something he wouldn’t have had the ability to do before with Gullin without a master’s seal. The metallic familiar shrank down, seeming to absorb through Endrance’s hand. Once the bird was fully absorbed, Endrance could feel she was safely resting in the library of his mind.

Endrance pulled on his glove as the group marched with a purpose across the plaza, heading towards the building in the center.

As they approached the doors, Endrance felt another one of his gut sensations that made him halt abruptly. The rest of the party stopped, looking around worriedly.

From within the building, a blast of fire erupted from the doors, rocketing towards them. Endrance leapt forwards, thrusting out with his left hand to catch the flames before they exploded and caught his friends in the blast. Twisting the flames like a sheet of cloth around his hand, Endrance flicked his wrist and sent the fire careening away from them.

“Oho…” A voice called out from the building. “You’ve improved.”

Malchoir strode idly out the doors. A man Endrance had only ever  seen for a few minutes, he looked remarkably like his son, save for a few details. His cheekbones were sharper, his hair was long and straight, hanging to his waist. His emerald eyes were angular and sharp, with a natural severeness that his child didn’t have. Other than his head, Malchoir had no other traces of hair on his body.

Since he had been seen in the Bastille, Malchoir had acquired a set of white silk robes with gold trim. The man walked barefoot, unconcerned. Around his head hovered a halo of crystal shards that looked like miniature versions of the crystal sentry that had blasted them coming in. Numerous pieces of gold and platinum jewelry adorned his body, each gleaming with magical power. Endrance’s staff, Pentarch, rested in his left hand.

“Well, I took your familiar, didn’t I?” Endrance taunted. “That must have stung.”

Malchoir gave him an irritated look. “Oh so that was you?” he replied, unconcerned even as Endrance’s friends started to spread out with weapons ready. “I thought someone with real qualifications managed to take him. Although…”

Malchoir studied Endrance for a few seconds. “Interesting.” he replied. “You are much more than your mother indicated you could be. You could hardly be considered a half-breed anymore. Even the weakest Mercanian pattern is superior to any human. Very well.”

Malchoir started to turn away. “Come on then, you can join me.”

Chapter Thirty Four

“Excuse me?” Endrance replied, confused.

Malchoir hesitated, glancing back slowly. “You meet the qualifications to live, if barely.” Malchoir replied calmly. “Just… clean up those mortals around you before you come inside. I don’t want their filthy feet dirtying the floors.”

“Oh the hells you’re not just walking away!” Bridget shouted.

Malchoir stopped again, rolling his eyes before turning back to them. Endrance shook his head at him.

“Oh, so you’re going to side with the mortals then?” Malchoir asked, putting his hands on his hips. “Very well then, we can do this ‘final confrontation’ or whatever it is you’ve been calling it.”

Endrance glanced at Joven, then to Valzoa before nodding. “Malchior…” Endrance started. “Just what are you doing here, anyways? There’s nothing left of the empire.”

Endrance already knew about the vaults, but it wouldn’t hurt to get an answer from the Mercanian himself.

“You know very little, child.” Malchoir replied, surveying the group. “Allow me to teach you a lesson before I finish this.”

“Finish what?”

Malchoir had a smile full of menace. “Bringing back our people, of course.” he replied, spreading his hands. “I would say sorry, but your human chattel will not be able to come back like we can. So, when I put you back in a working body, try not to hold me, killing you all, against me.”

Endrance took a step forwards, and Malchoir’s engraved channels on his flesh lit up. Tanya released a fully drawn arrow at the Mercanian, while Joven barreled forwards with his swords drawn. Bridget moved around in a half-circle to come up on the side of the mage. Valzoa glided across the ground on the other side of Malchoir in a similar movement. Selene took to the air, flapping her wings to gain height.

The arrow shattered in the air in front of Malchoir, but the hit seemed to have been hard enough to cause him to shift a small amount. The Mercanian had a momentary look of minor concern. More spells on Malchoir’s body lit up, and the air shimmered around him. Joven crashed into the wall of shimmering air and bounced back, only slightly singed from the impact.

“A descendant of Rothel?” Malchoir observed, amusedly. He flicked his hand, and a blast of wind sent Joven and Bridget tumbling back. The Mercanian’s eyes widened when he realized Valzoa had been entirely unaffected by his spell and was lunging in with his rapier.

The blade punctured into Malchoir’s wards, managing to dig an inch deep into Malchoir’s chest. Snarling, Malchoir swung Pentarch, the tip of the staff striking Valzoa and sending him flying away. Malchoir pointed at Valzoa with his right hand in a move very similar to what Endrance used often.

A bolt of lightning shot out of Malchoir’s fingertips, crossing the distance to Valzoa in an instant. To the elf’s credit, he managed to get his blade in between the bolt and his body, but that only meant he was sent crashing to the ground while convulsing with the transmitted shock. The electricity didn’t seem to damage him, so much as it disrupted his senses.

In the same movement, he turned and waved his hand up at Selene. “Gelare!” Malchoir incanted, and a ray of blue light struck the Draugnoa, encasing her mid-flight in ice. The half-demon sailed over Malchoir’s head to crash into the decorative planters around the building. The ice shattered and Selene tumbled to a stop, stunned. Shaking her head, she rose to her feet and reached for her belt.

“Are you ready to give up?” Malchoir asked, turning back to face Endrance. He had been expecting Endrance to have prepared a spell or use his own spellscribing against him. What he had not expected was Endrance powering up his speed and strength spells carved into his arms and legs before charging right over Joven as he laid there.

Endrance’s gloved hand struck Malchoir’s wards, breaking through them in an instant. His fist carried on through, smashing into the Mercanian’s face hard enough to send him sailing backwards. A trail of liquid gold blood splattered the ground along the way.

“Your wards mean nothing to me, Malchoir.” Endrance replied. “Mine had to be like yours to fool the Bastille, and I already know how to get around mine.”

Malchoir came up to his feet unnaturally, as if his heels had the leverage to lift his entire body upright despite being board-straight. “You really have spent too long among barbarians!” Malchoir protested, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Endrance chuckled, “There’s no rule saying I can’t punch you in the face during a mage’s battle—”

Malchoir interrupted Endrance by blasting him with a bolt of lightning, following up with a torrent of flames and then a hail of sharp ice fragments. The spells splashed against Endrance’s wards, but the amount of power it took to resist told him exactly how strong his opponent was. Weathering the onslaught, Endrance looked at Malchoir like nothing had happened. Slowly, Endrance reached up and dusted off one of his shoulders.

“Oh that’s it?” He bluffed. “You didn’t even dirty my jacket.”

By that time, Joven and the others had recovered. Tanya had seemed to have disappeared, however. Endrance didn’t have time to try to spot her, and assumed she was trying to find a good sniping spot. Selene had gathered her wits about her, and joined in on the attack.

“It seems,” Malchoir murmured, “That elemental magic is a waste of effort.”

Bridget smeared something on her wooden arm as she closed in. The mossy substance glittered as she took a two-handed grip on her large chopping sword and swung for the Mercanian’s neck. At the same time Joven leapt into the air, bringing the twin swords down like viper fangs. Valzoa came in again for another lung, this time twisting with his weapon as he drilled down on the enemy.

Malchoir stepped to the side and swung Pentarch, deflecting Bridget’s weapon while also dodging Joven’s attack. Valzoa had to check his attack lest he impale Joven instead of his target.

“Let’s start with you.” Malchoir stated, shoving his palm towards Bridget. The space between them seemed to buckle, and the only thing she could do was bring her blade up to shield herself. The space between suddenly burst outwards in an invisible explosion of warped space. Bridget’s sword disintegrated under the force of the burst, and it continued on to hit her. Her wooden arm exploded into splinters and sap on contact, and she sailed several yards through the air with blood streaming from her mouth. She hit the ground, bounced once, and fell still.

“Bridget!” Endrance cried, but he wasn’t able to rush to her aid yet. Joven had reoriented at that point, and slashed with both blades at Malchoir. The blades carved into the wards, causing them to flash dangerously. Even without Endrance’s own ability, it didn’t look like his father’s defenses would hold out long. However, with the destructive ability he had, Malchoir wasn’t likely to need much longer to win the fight.

Malchoir turned, swinging Pentarch again. Joven caught the staff with his swords, but the force of the swing made the big man stumble back. He followed through with a blast of lightning. Selene interposed herself, taking the hit for Joven. Her body convulsed from the hit, and she skid to a stop on the stone, smoking.

“You can be next, if you insist.” Malchoir said, raising his palm again. Just as he was pushing towards Joven, Valzoa practically appeared at Malchoir’s back; he was moving so fast.

The Mercanian turned suddenly, reaching out and catching Valzoa’s rapier in one bare hand. “Oh let’s not do that again.” Malchoir commented, having healed the original sword injury by that point.

Selene’s chain dagger stuck into Malchoir’s arm with a sudden whip-crack. The Mercanian lost his grip on the sword, but Valzoa’s thrust had been checked. Joven rejoined the fight. The three tangled with Malchoir, each fighting as hard as they could against the Mercanian. Despite it being three on one, Malchoir seemed to still have the upper hand. Selene’s ability to fight at some range let her take opportunities that she wouldn’t have been able to if she had just her claws.

Endrance could only use his fists at the moment, since his armor made using most of his spells very difficult. If only he could have a melee weapon—

He remembered a spell that Kaelob’s apprentice used. The phantom blades were supernaturally sharp, and Endrance could use them at range which was why he didn’t use them often. He simply had many better options for dealing damage at range. However, he could also hold one of the blades and use it that way.

Endrance also suspected that Malchoir was using his own speed spell to give him an edge. It was one of the spells Endrance had scribed on his body but hadn’t spent much time refining, which was his loss. Instead, Endrance pushed his scribed spells to the limit, worrying more about speed than strength. Using everything he had, he dealt a hit square into Malchoir’s chest. He was rewarded by a knock upside the head by Pentarch, sending him sprawling.

“Stay down, child.” Malchoir stated. “I’ll be done with these three soon. And then that woman who ran off.”

Endrance’s helmet hung askew on his head. Instead of immediately rising to his feet, Endrance yanked the helmet the rest of the way off and tossed it aside. The sudden eruption of conflicting magical energies assailed Endrance’s senses, threatening to blind him just as badly as if he had kept the helmet on.  Taking off his gloves, Endrance chanted a long-form spell while Valzoa and Joven kept Malchoir busy. It was difficult to keep the fight going, but they were capable enough to keep hitting the Mercanian before he could unleash a dangerous spell. Joven was brutally shrugging off the Mercanian’s counterattacks, while Valzoa was as hard to strike as smoke.

Finishing the spell, Endrance conjured a pair of phantom blades. The outline of the swords were a translucent purple, looking similar to the energies of the barrier around the battlefield. Leaping back in, Endrance swung the weightless blades. One of their edges found purchase, slicing cleanly through Malchoir’s wards and drawing a line of gold across his arm.

“Enough!” the Mercanian bellowed, suddenly exploding with force and sending the three of them tumbling away. Malchoir raised his free hand up in a clawed gesture, and conjured up a phantom hand of massive size that snatched Valzoa out of the air. With one movement, the hand squeezed the elf hard enough that Endrance could hear the snap and crunch of bones. Malchoir gestured down, and the hand threw Valzoa’s limp body against the stones, hard.

Joven had sprung up on his feet, sprinting back up to the Mercanian. Instead of striking him, however, Joven instead threw his arm around Malchoir’s neck and quickly caught him in a stranglehold. Hauling back, Joven picked Malchoir off the ground despite the wards and twisted hard. There was a loud popping crunch, and Malchoir’s body went limp in his arms.

Before Joven could do anything more, however, several of Malchoir’s scribed spells flared up, exploding with force again. Joven’s arms were forcefully flung open, sending him crashing into one of the golden double doors. The door buckled, slamming closed with Joven’s back embedded in the metal. Even if he wasn’t dead, both of Joven’s arms appeared broken in multiple places as they hung from him like wrung out sleeves of a shirt. The door panels swung slowly open on squealing hinges.

Endrance pulled himself to his feet, scrambling forward with his phantom sword. Malchoir was certainly able to recover from having his neck snapped, since he could regenerate the damage with magical power. If Endrance could just get there before then, he could behead the man and end it.

Endrance leapt over the supine body, swinging the sword with great speed but little skill. The blade cut into the marble, leaving a slash in the stone on either side of Malchoir’s neck.

“Damnit!” Endrance growled. The wards had pulsed just as Endrance’s sword hit, and all he managed to do was scratch Malchoir across the throat. There was a strange secondary pop sound as the broken section of his neck suddenly mended. Malchoir’s eyes fixed on Endrance, and again Pentarch swung up. This time Endrance rolled with the hit, lights flashing in his eyes only briefly.

Malchoir rose to his feet again, chuckling. “I’ll give it to you.” The Mercanian said calmly. “You have gotten closer to killing me than the entirety of my own people and your own put together. I am impressed.”

Before Malchoir could do anything more, Selene’s chain dagger embedded into the Malchoir’s back. Though the wards had greatly reduced the strength of her throw, the weapon had hit him hard enough to interrupt his speech. He whirled on her angrily, only to find she had closed the distance with surprising speed.

She inhaled in a long drawn fashion, sucking streams of red glowing light from Malchoir’s body. The Mercanian struggled to move for a moment, his wards flickering as she leeched quintessence from his very meridians. Malchoir started to sag, and Endrance felt a small glimmer of hope.

Malchoir, however, had been murmuring words for a spell while he did his best to resist Selene’s abilities. Thrusting his hand out towards Selene, he struck his palm into her abdomen as he released the spell. A burst cloud of blue and green quintessence erupted around Selene, and the half-demoness staggered back, choking and gagging as if she had just eaten something vile.

“Enough!” Malchoir cried out, straightening and powering up his wards again. Selene’s chain dagger fell out of his back and clattered to the floor as its owner struggled to stay standing while poisoned with the wrong kinds of power. “Your ways are known to me, demon-spawn! I will not succumb to your wiles.”

He swept with his clawed fingers, causing another giant phantom hand to appear around Endrance. Though Endrance wasn’t able to avoid getting caught by the spell, his wards were more than strong enough to keep it from crushing him. Suspended in the air, Endrance struggled against the grasp of the spell.

Malchoir turned on his feet, looking around casually. “Your last standing woman has abandoned you.” he observed. “That’s unfortunate for you.”

Endrance struggled to break free. “She’s not obligated to show herself to the likes of you.” he snapped back. “If I can tear your wards down you’ll be dead without knowing why.”

Malchoir chuckled. “That’s never going to happen.” Malchoir replied confidently. “You may be able to get past my wards, but I can also do the same to you. Care for a demonstration?”

Endrance watched as Malchoir approached him with Pentarch raised. “This was yours, was it not?” Malchoir asked. “Allow me to let you see it, one last time.”

Endrance knew there was no longer any time to hold back. Silvy, I hope you’re awake. He desperately reached out to his familiar.

I am somewhat battle-ready, Endrance. Silvy replied. Summon me out and I will protect you.

No. Endrance’s brow trickled with sweat as he threw out one of his last tricks. He let go of the phantom blade. I need to ask you for something!

The phantom blade, driven by his will, shot across the incredibly short distance and hit Malchoir. Unfortunately, Endrance hadn’t been able to aim, so the purple energy blade only impaled Malchoir in the guts, sending him sliding back with a grunt.

What do you need? Silvy asked. That will not be enough to stop him.

I know. Endrance replied, slowly pushing the hand’s fingers apart. Malchoir coughed up golden blood, grasping the phantom blade. With a word of power, the Mercanian shattered the phantom sword, dispelling it. You said you were the progenitor of the Furie, right?

Are you sure you want to do this? Silvy asked, grasping her master’s desire. If your will ends up lacking…

Endrance looked over Malchoir, seeing Joven. The big man’s arms had already knitted, and red wisps of energy were leaking from the barbarian’s mouth as he exhaled. It would only take the man a few more seconds to be ready to rejoin the fight. Malchoir’s stomach wound was closing, and he shook his head in a chiding manner as he resumed approaching Endrance.

Just a second. Endrance told Silvy.

With all his strength, Endrance managed to open up the grasping hand enough to get one arm out from under its fingers. Looking Malchoir in the eye, Endrance smirked.

“About my staff.” Endrance called out. “You’ve had it long enough!”

Pentarch. Endrance transmitted down the dormant connection with Pentarch.

He felt a response, an acknowledgement of his contact and a desire to be given a command.

Return.

The staff in Malchoir’s hand, the beautifully crafted, wrapped staff infused with Life magic, erupted with thorns that shot straight through the Mercanian’s flesh. Even though the Mercanian hadn’t cried out much even when being cut or having his neck snapped, this sudden burst of damage evoked an intense scream of pain from Malchoir. Naturally, he let go of Pentarch.

Instead of clattering to the ground, the grandstaff immediately snapped upright, skidding across the stone towards Endrance strong enough to leave a groove in the marble. Just as it reached the mage, the thorns retracted without a trace.

Touching Pentarch, Endrance felt his connection with the grandstaff resume in full strength. His mind flooded with information, things that Pentarch had experienced along the journey with Malchoir. More importantly, though, Endrance felt his understanding of Life magic improved by leaps and bounds. All the holes in his comprehension that had been Valeria’s tampering were filled in an instant.

Malchoir had taken steps to protect himself from general effects of Life magic, so even having some directly injected into his body wouldn’t poison him for long. Joven dropped from the dent in the door, landing on his feet with an expression of fury warping his normally cheerful demeanor.

Endrance tightened his grip on Pentarch, directing his thoughts back inwards.

All right, Silvy. Endrance instructed. Time to let it rip.

Tear him apart. Silvy instructed. Give him a death worthy of song.

Endrance felt his familiar mentally reach out to him and touch the part of his mind reserved for his emotions and instinct. Sellinbursti’s power sparked something, but Endrance wasn’t really able to tell—

His body exploded with power. Alongside it, his anger, something he felt often but not greatly, swelled into his conscious thought. It burned hotter than anything he had ever experienced before. It shot up into levels of hate and rage that he had considered physically impossible to experience, and then doubled it yet again.

Malchoir looked up when he felt a massive change in the flow of magic around him. His eyes widened when he saw what had just transpired.

Endrance thrust his hands out, tearing the grasping phantom hand to shreds without even trying. His metal eye stared at Malchoir coldly, but his living eye glowed with searing red light. His face, unlike Joven’s, was a cold and unmoving mask. The air around Endrance steamed with heat, and his hair began to float up on currents of power that leaked from Endrance’s engraved spells.

“You’ve lost your mind!” Malchoir chided, raising a hand to blast Endrance with a spell. In the instant it took to raise his limb, Endrance crossed the distance. His strength and speed spells amplified what already was, and the introduction of the Furie was something that had not been accounted for. The air boomed as Endrance swung Pentarch like a club.

Malchoir had been using time magic, and was able to throw his arms up to shield his head, but the blow temporarily broke through his wards and shattered the bones of his forearms. Malchoir rocketed backwards.

Joven lunged forwards, catching Malchoir with one hand. The barbarian turned his gaze to Endrance, and there was a split second moment where they both were on the same page; this person was the target of their rage.

Swinging around, Joven slammed Malchoir’s body into the stone, bouncing him up into the air from the impact just in time for Endrance to collide with the Mercanian. The two of them tumbled into the building, with Joven right on their heels.

The magnificent beauty of the interior decorating was lost on them as several moments passed where the only thing that mattered was beating Malchoir into a bloody pulp. The Mercanian was smashed multiple times, being passed between the two. Almost like they had coordinated the assault, Endrance and Joven worked perfectly in tandem. Pouring an unbearable torrent of damage on the beleaguered Mercanian, the interior was wrecked by the mere shockwaves of their swings connecting.

To his credit, Malchoir wasn’t easy to bring down. He had his wards, which Endrance didn’t have the presence of mind to bypass, and he had months of quintessence accumulated to fuel his regenerations. Everything they were doing to him hurt, but Malchoir had managed to defend himself enough to prevent any one hit from being a fatal blow. Even if they were wasting time, they were also vastly wasting Malchoir’s reserves of power.

Endrance’s body was leaking gold-tinged red blood from over exerting himself, yet he continued. His fury was too powerful for him to hold back even the slightest bit. He had only heard Joven talk of the rage, and now he was possessed by one an order of magnitude greater than Joven had access to. Of course, the big man had much more experience and training to make use of the strength, so their performance was about the same.

Both of them ran out of steam around the time they made it to the center of the building. The doors were blasted into flinders, sending a gold-soaked Malchoir across the room to collide with a short stone wall circling the center of the room. Joven and Endrance stood at the doorway, panting and staggering. Their bodies had been pushed to the limit, and the damage they accrued was starting to catch up.

Joven sagged against the door frame, unable to keep standing. Endrance staggered into the room after Malchoir, but as the Furie faded away he was feeling weak and surprisingly hollow inside. His body was numb, and the armored coat’s straps had snapped during his exertions, so it hung on him awkwardly. With a grunt, he yanked the collar enough to shuck the coat, coming forward wearing nothing but his bloody undershirt, pants, and boots.

“Enough of this, Malchoir.” Endrance whispered, coming over to the bloody, mushy pulp that was Malchoir’s rapidly-repairing body. Lifting Pentarch, which had come out of the entire exchange unscathed, Endrance put the butt of the staff against Malchoir’s forehead. “Why… why are you here?”

Malchoir coughed up more golden blood. “Look around you, child.” he replied weakly. “This is our core. The home of all Mercanians. This was the contingency we had in case we lost the war.”

The low wall Malchoir was slung against seemed to be some kind of ornate well covered in glowing gems, platinum-inlaid arcane script, and numerous glyphs on every facet.

“War? Against humans?” Endrance almost impaled Malchoir mid-sentence simply because it was exhausting holding the staff up. His bones screamed at him. His muscles trembled. Endrance had been recovering too, but Malchoir’s recovery rate would have him at full strength long before Endrance could fight again.

Malchoir smiled even as new teeth formed in his mouth. “It’s the collector.” The Mercanian spat. “The Well of Mercanian souls that have no body to return to.”

“Collector?” Endrance stared at Malchoir dully. “You mean all the Mercanians who had disappeared during the Shattering had their imprints come here?”

Malchoir gazed up at his child. “Yes,” he replied, “And if you hadn’t interrupted me with that stupid familiar summoning, I would have been able to open the well properly.”

“So?” Endrance struggled to stay conscious. “You screwed up. Too bad.”

Malchoir found the strength to laugh. “You don’t understand.” he stated, reaching up and grasping the butt of the staff before Endrance could move it. “The well of souls was never meant to hold so many imprints. It was supposed to rescue a few mercanians should they lose their lives abroad. Not… all of us. And then you interrupted me when the ritual to send them to their bodies was only partially complete.”

“Oh no.” Endrance leaned hard on the staff. Malchoir managed to shift the stick so it missed his head and struck the stone underneath him instead. “Your people are going to die. Permanently.”

“No.” Malchoir countered, his limbs looking distressingly intact now. “It means that the well will not be able to distribute them properly. It’s going to break.”

Endrance fought with Malchoir over the grandstaff.

“If it breaks like this, we will be bombarded with imprints as they flee the well.” Malchoir stated. “Now what do you think will happen to us?”

“I’m sure it’s an easy fix.” Endrance managed to say. “Just close the lid.”

“I could have fixed it, if you had just done the sensible thing and joined me.” Malchoir stated. “You’re my son, couldn’t you have just cooperated with me?”

“Un-unlikely,” Endrance spat, “You’re a terrible father.”

Malchoir’s face showed his own disgust. “Why should I care for a half-breed, anyways?” he replied.

“Some of them will escape.” Endrance growled, referring to the imprints in the well. “We can’t absorb them that fast.”

Malchoir twisted, sending Endrance sprawling to the ground. “Not true!” Malchoir exclaimed gleefully, having gotten much of his physical strength back. He hadn’t gotten the power to recharge his wards or other engraved spells, though, so the most Malchoir could do was pin Endrance down with his hands around the mage’s neck. “All of them will be trapped here long enough for me to absorb them. But once they do, I won’t be able to separate them! All that effort to save my people, and you…”

Malchoir tilted his head. “Wait,” he muttered, “I recall sensing another Mercanian than you. You had finished it, didn’t you? Valeria’s research.”

Malchoir’s grip on Endrance’s neck tightened, causing spots to show in the mage’s vision. “Then I need to kill you first, so that I can learn how to transfer the imprints to others. It will be manual and slower than I hoped, but this is better than I hoped for.”

Endrance grabbed at Malchoir’s hands, trying to pull his long fingers from his neck. His vision swam, and with the pressure he was put under, Endrance felt he was likely to break his neck before he could suffocate.

“Just relax.” Malchoir whispered, trying harder and harder to throttle his own child. “You’ll live on, in me.”

Something suddenly blossomed on Malchoir’s forehead. Bits of bone, blood, and gristle clung to the head of an arrow that still quivered with the impact of punching through the back of Malchoir’s skull.

“No thanks!” Tanya shouted from down the hallway. “I like him where he is!”

Malchoir didn’t seem to die immediately. Instead, he let go of Endrance’s neck, reached up, and touched the arrowhead jutting from his head. His gaze slid down to Endrance, who was gasping for breath.

“Huh.” Malchoir murmured.

Before he could say anything else, Tanya released another arrow, punching through his back and piercing Malchoir’s heart. He sagged down, half-reclining against the wall of the well. Gold blood trickled from the wounds.

Endrance couldn’t move very much, and was helpless for the thing that came next. Malchoir’s imprint, still strong despite being drained of most of his quintessence, erupted out of the Mercanian’s body in volumes that put anything Endrance had witnessed before to shame. The golden wind seemed to fill the room, swirling around the well before spiraling down towards Endrance’s mouth. It seemed that the well was a last resort option, and not the first thing that a Mercanian imprint took over.

Malchoir’s imprint swirled into Endrance’s mind even as quintessence flooded his meridians. Endrance was hardly conscious, and was only able to barely shunt the incoming imprint to the holding cells he had devised years ago. The imprint was deeper and more rich in memory sensations than anything he had from others in his lifetime. Every memory was as vivid as if he had just done it himself.

Alongside the memories came Malchoir’s knowledge. He had two Mercanians imprints, not just one. The first murder victim among Mercanians resided within Malchoir, and Endrance had inherited it by proxy. After so much time melded, it would be impossible for Endrance to separate the two.

Malchoir’s personality also arrived with the rest of the imprint, but Endrance had in fact been prepared to some extent for that after what Valeria had done in his mind. The Mercanian’s ego was not allowed even one instant of time to think for itself before Endrance’s mind automatically erased it. As easy as it sounded, it only worked because he had prepared in advance for it.

“Endrance!” Tanya said, shaking the mage. The imprint had finished absorbing, and Endrance blinked up at her with a bloodshot eye. “You’re alive!”

“Yeah.” Endrance wheezed. “Bridget? Valzoa… Selene?”

Tanya shrugged. “They weren’t dead, which is why I was late catching up with you two. Had to try to stabilize them. Selene’s probably right behind me.”

Endrance rolled his head to the side, looking over at his companion. “Joven?”

Tanya rolled her eyes. “Asshole somehow fell asleep.” she complained. “Like, how do you take a nap right now?”

Endrance looked back at her, reaching up and touching his bruised neck. “Well, it was a satisfying ass beating.” he admitted. “Help me stand.”

Tanya helped him rise to his feet. “So… this means I contributed, right?” Tanya asked. Endrance chuckled, wincing.

“Tanya, we would have all died if it weren’t for you.” Endrance assured her. “Thank you.”

Tanya simply smiled, hauling Endrance fully upright.

Endrance didn’t have to look around the room anymore to know what was in there. Malchoir’s memories were pristine, perfectly clear. He looked over at the well.

The ‘well of souls’ as Malchoir had called it, was a magical device designed to be a collector of Mercanian imprints. It was supposed to be manually operated, distributing those imprints to Mercanian bodies when the original body was destroyed. Malchoir hadn’t designed the device, so without its guidance he would never have been able to transfer the imprints to the stored bodies in the vaults anyways.

From his memory, Malchoir knew there had been twenty five vaults. It made sense now. Even though the Mercanians were not a populous people, they still existed in the thousands. The vaults weren’t enough to give the entire population a body, even if they had been undamaged. They would have been able to bring back enough Mercanians that they could resume making new bodies and transferring imprints that had doubled or tripled up to their own hosts.

Unfortunately, Endrance had caused Malchoir to lose his concentration on the ritual to activate the well. The spell had gone awry, and Malchoir had been struggling to stabilize the well when Endrance had arrived. The damage to that region of the Shatter was in fact the fallout of such a powerful magical artifact starting to lose control. If it blew, there would be more than just earthquakes.

Endrance looked down into the well. Swirls of multi-colored light seemed to swim within, coiling around each other without ever truly blending. The runes, glyphs, and arcane script on the inner walls of the well were glowing red-hot, and Endrance could see sparks where the inlaid precious metals were being burned out.

Endrance now knew why Malchoir had come out to greet him. The ritual was going out of control, but it wasn’t something that a single person could fix. He had come out trying to force Endrance to help stabilize the well by becoming a buffer for all the imprints that were overflowing while he focused on dragging the ritual under control. He just arrogantly did not believe he would struggle so much to suppress just a few humans. Even as the one who had incidentally given humans the chance to fight back, he never thought they would be capable of defeating him.

As if to punctuate that thought, the ground shook again, reminding him that there was little time left.

“Tanya?” Endrance said softly, getting her attention. He looked up at her, giving her a pained smile. “I have to stay here.”

“What?!” Tanya exclaimed. “Why?”

Endrance gestured into the well. “If even one of these imprints get out, well, this will all start over again. I realize that Malchoir might have been a criminal, but he was still loyal to his people. All of those imprints will be the same.”

“We beat Malchoir, we can beat them too!” Tanya insisted, tugging on his arm.

Endrance shook his head. “You know what Malchoir was, in their society? A researcher. He wasn’t a battle mage, or one of their defenders. He gave us so much trouble and you know what? He wasn’t even halfway to his prime.”

“So you’re saying…” Tanya started to ask, her eyebrows furrowing as she resisted making the conclusion Endrance made moments before.

Endrance shook his head. “I don’t intend on dying,” he replied, “I just need you all to get everyone else away from here. This place is going to explode.”

“Well what can you possibly do?” Tanya asked. Despite arguing with him, she did obey his order and moved to get Joven on his feet.

Endrance turned to her and did his best to give her a reassuring smile. “I need to stop the imprints from getting loose. There’s only one place they can go now.”

“But Anna could help.” Tanya protested, shaking Joven. “Can’t she?”

Endrance shook his head. “She doesn’t have the willpower I do. If I left, she’d be overwhelmed if she absorbed even one imprint. Please, you and Selene need to get Joven and Valzoa out of here.”

He raised his arm, calling Silvy out of his mind. The Fjallar landed on Endrance’s arm as a small bird, careful not to puncture the skin with her talons.

“Silvy will take you out of here.” Endrance instructed. “The barrier should be failing soon. Take that chance to get everyone to a safe distance.”

The familiar nodded to Endrance before flapping her wings and flitting out of the building. Joven roused enough to get to his feet, and was guided outside by Tanya. She shot Endrance one last look over her shoulder before going out of sight. Sighing, Endrance turned back to the well.

****

There were two ways he could try to deal with the situation, when it came down to it. He could either let the well rupture, and try to absorb all the imprints as they burst forth. The alternative would be for him to enter the well himself, and absorb the imprints before they did enough damage to break free.

Endrance turned again, looking down the hall leading out. He had so much he had wanted to do, but nobody but he could stop the Mercanian empire from rising. He had to try to get them all; one or two escaping might not have huge repercussions, but thousands? The chances of one of them recovering the empire and turning humans back into a fuel source and slave labor was simply too high.

Turning back to the well, Endrance let go of Pentarch, but the magic stave remained upright.  Remembering his boots had aurichalcum in them, he peeled his boots off and stood in his bare feet. The floor was slick with cold, golden blood, the sticky substance clinging to his soles. He put his hands on the top of the wall, his heart heavier than his body. He put his weight forward, rising up to stand on the edge.

“Selene’s going to be so mad at me.” Endrance murmured aloud. “I hope she’ll be okay on her own now.”

The earth shook again, briefly. With little time remaining, Endrance grit his teeth. He stepped forwards, taking the plunge. He only fell a few feet before his descent slowed, drifting down the well like a feather. Endrance didn’t see an end to the well, only an infinitely deep corridor of Mercanian souls.

The imprints that came into range immediately started to swirl into him. Each one slammed into his already battered and beleaguered brain. Each imprint is as vivid and distinct as his own life. Each imprint bearing an ego that needed to be suppressed.

Quickly Endrance lost all grasp of the passage of time. An endless tide of desperate, powerful minds pressed against his. Ego after ego fought him for his body. Millenia after millenia of life memories flooded his library. Dozens of books of magical comprehension piled up in his magic workshop every second. It continued on seemingly without end, and Endrance could do nothing but struggle through it.

It felt like uncounted ages were passing, and yet Endrance was incapable of getting the upper hand. So much mental effort and potential time had erased his very reason; he wasn’t even sure anymore why he was doing it. The only thing he did was struggle along because he didn’t even have the freedom of thought to realize that there could be something else.

A thousand Mercanian lives were processed, and yet tens of thousands more remained. It was too much, far too much for Endrance to contain. The library of his mind swelled beyond his capacity, the state of his psyche fragmenting alongside the alabaster stone walls. Polished shelves of books buckled under a weight beyond their means.

His connection to his own body seemed lost, overwhelmed by the sensation of every imprint that passed into him. Even that sensation of minds joining him simply became a pressure on his every instant of consciousness.

The moment Endrance’s mind broke, the library of his mind finally lost integrity. The ceiling began to crumble, the blocks he had so carefully assembled breaking up and flying away into the maelstrom of the space outside his mind. The hole that opened was the point where everything began to unravel, the rest of the ceiling dissolving. For a moment, only the stained glass windows of the center of the library ceiling remained, but soon they too broke apart to their individual panes of glass, glittering as they were swept away.

Endrance felt his mental self picked up, dragged from the safety of his overburdened library and tossed up into the maelstrom. Around the library was a swirl of uncontrolled mental energies, the minds, egos, and wills of the Mercanians he had been absorbing. The very system Endrance used to discern Mercanian memory from his own failed. Everything began to blur together after that point. Struggling, Endrance could only feverishly try to control the imprints even as his sense of self disintegrated.

Endrance, as he had been, slowly drowned in the sea of his fallen ancestors. Physically he may have been out of any danger, even at the bottom of the Mercanian collector, but his body was nothing but a shell, brimming with quintessence but incapable of recognizing the world around it, nor enacting its will upon it.

Slowly, the number of imprints in the well siphoned away, draining into that very shell.

Chapter Thirty Five

Anna waited with Giselle at the ship, having fought their way through a physical tide of misshapen, magically-warped creatures. Their strange and varied abilities were difficult to deal with, but none of the ones they encountered was instantly fatal. It was shortly after they climbed aboard the ship that they saw the gold-domed structure in the city plaza silently explode, chunks of building flying up into the air and raining down around them. One such chunk struck the side of the ship, tearing a hole through the hull.

Panicking, the crew scrambled to stimulate the ship’s orb to heal the damage. Eventually, Silvy was seen flying back towards them, with people on her back. Their joy, however, quickly turned to grief upon seeing the condition of the party. The only one who came back mostly intact was Tanya, but even she had no fight left in her.

Valzoa and Bridget needed immediate medical help, while Selene was mostly tending to the multiple broken bones in her wings. Joven managed to ensure everyone had gotten off of Silvy’s back before he himself fell unconscious again right on the deck.

Silvy only remained behind for a few moments before she took off into the air. Moving through the sky swiftly, they watched the metal Fjallar fly over top of the Mercanian plaza. Ascending straight up, Sellinbursti flared her wings open.

Her song, a mournful cry, was something beyond the ken of the world. The Fjallar’s song rang far and wide, heard by all, and only the truly deaf were incapable of hearing the Song of the Apocalypse. Only a select few still living understood the significance of such a song, but anyone could tell what it meant; something significant had come to an end.

Gullin, in his tiny bird form, as well as Fellinbursti, quickly joined her in her song, the three crying out in harmony. The song spread, ripples of it reaching far and wide. As the Song of the Apocalypse birds came to a crescendo, Sellinbursti erupted into a cloud of silvery feathers, returning to her home plane.

“No…” Selene cried, sinking to the ground. Her connection with Endrance had once again been severed. Both halves of her, the human and the demon, were overwhelmed with the loss of their beloved. Ironic, then, that when the sensations of loss finally passed, only one entity remained behind. With the binding gone, there was no longer anything left to keep the two from merging, just as Endrance had planned in the past.

No one had the energy to grieve; they had spent everything they had. Staring out over the ruined city numbly was all they could manage.

Considering the damage they had suffered to both crew and vessel, there wasn’t much choice but to wait a few days. Surprisingly, the chaotic surges of Quintessence through the Shatter showed signs of calming. It had lessened to a notable extent by the time the crew were ready to take the ship back out.

The night after they started their journey back to the sea, Selene vanished. Anna knew she had gone back, but with everything that had happened, no one begrudged her decision. Many of them would have chosen to go back, if they had the ability to. Giselle did in fact have the ability to fly with Gullin’s help, but the familiar outright refused to let her take part in such foolishness.

The building that once housed the Mercanian Well of Souls was barely recognizable as having once been a building. If it weren’t for the foot or so of stone walls that remained behind, no one would have thought twice about it having always been simply a flat plaza. Rubble from the sudden outburst of power had rained down all around the central feature, so when Selene returned to the well, she could land right next to the fragmented circle of stone that remained as its walls.

The woman traced a long black-nailed fingertip along the stone, looking down the well. She had heard what Tanya had told them Endrance had set out to do, and she had returned hoping to at least find some trace of him. His connection with her had broken, so she knew that he was gone, but she had at least thought that there would have been a body left behind.

And there was a body, she realized. It had been shoved up against the ridge of a knocked out wall, littered with debris. Rushing over, she hauled the body over. A familiar face looked up at her, bloody and battered.

It only took a few seconds for her to recognize that it wasn’t Endrance. He looked similar, but this body had been killed by an arrow to the head. It must have been Malchoir, from what Tanya had reported. Crying out in frustration, Selene flung the corpse away from her.

Turning back, she realized that something was standing nearby. A staff, one she remembered Endrance having years ago but she had thought it lost in the Bastille, stood on its own off to the side of the well. Seemingly, the grandstaff had gone entirely untouched and unharmed by the explosion. It stood there, resisting even Selene’s attempts to move it. She felt a strange kind of power flow through it, and just touching the grandstaff seemed to have helped some of the aches from her freshly healed wings to vanish.

There was nothing else she could find. Quietly choking back sobs, she sank down next to the well, resting her winged back against the stones.

“There’s… there’s nothing left for me, then.” she whispered to herself. “I can’t even take his staff back home with us.”

There was, she admitted, a part of her that was glad to be free. The binding ritual she had agreed to was broken, and she was free to do as she wished. With the kingdoms of Ironsoul under Balatoran rule, and the general chaos among civilization, Selene could use her looks, abilities, and physical prowess to carve a niche for herself. Really take over some minds and drown out her sorrow in a few decades of decadence and losing her mind in her lusts.

Selene visibly deflated a little, sighing deeply. It wasn’t even a big part of her that wanted that. Just an impulse from an existence that once influenced her unbidden. Instead, all she cared to do was curl up and sleep. Perhaps, forever.

In her grief, Selene faded into sleep. When she awoke, the suns had risen again, and neither the brightness of the day nor sleep did anything to soften the ache in her heart. Sighing, she went to stand up, bracing herself on the crumbling wall of the well.

A bit of debris was bumped by her hand, falling over the side. Selene paused, listening to the rock fall. Even in the bright light of day she had been incapable of seeing the bottom. If she had looked at night, where she could safely use her night vision, perhaps she could have seen to the bottom.

Several dozen seconds passed, and Selene was starting to wonder if the pebble had landed but on something like loose dirt instead of water or stone. Then, a loud clack echoed its way back up the well. There was in fact a bottom, and from what she heard, the pebble had bounced only once, before landing on something less solid.

A ray of hope illuminated Selene’s heart. Without a moment’s thought towards the future, she vaulted over the wall and dropped inside. Her fingernails extended to long black claws, which was all she needed to dig them into the sides of the well to slow her fall. It was too narrow to open her wings in that space, so her claws would have to make do since it was certainly too deep for any rope she could have gotten.

Sparks streamed from her nails as they scraped the still enchanted walls of the well. Despite the burst of power, it seemed that the imprint-capturing qualities of the well had survived. It meant that Endrance might have succeeded at his final goal, or at least did well enough that it hadn’t exploded and sent imprints out. She didn’t understand how things could be so intact in the well but the area aboveground could be so utterly destroyed.

The deeper she went, the darker it got. Without the suns being directly overhead, Selene was able to focus her eyes to see through the dark. Immediately she was able to see the walls of the well clearly. The runes and wards on the bricks were all intact, save for a few columns of arcane script that seemed to have burned themselves out.

She looked down. As the bottom of the well rose up to her, she could make out a humanoid shape below, curled up in the fetal position on its side.

“Endrance!” she gasped, letting go of the walls and dropping the last hundred feet. She hit the ground next to him hard, the tendons in her ankles and knees snapping, but she didn’t even feel that pain when it was eclipsed by the far more powerful feelings she had been experiencing.

The body curled up on the ground was naked, his clothes having disintegrated or burned away when the building above had exploded. However, Selene could not see any sign of Endrance having died from falling; his body appeared to be in perfect health. Better than she remembered, even.

What caught her attention was that it seemed that Endrance was in some kind of state of limbo. His body pulsed with magical energy strong enough that even Selene could sense it without needing any training. The mage’s spells that had been scribed on his body had gone through radical changes. Every available line, every square inch of his skin was now covered not in spellscribing, but the advanced engraved form of the technique.

Unlike Endrance’s original spells though, none of them looked familiar, and all of them were compact and tightly designed. There was a spell she recognized on the fingers of his right hand, the one that shot lightning out. Now, it was a single patch of lines and arcane script the size of one of his fingernails, compressed over the knuckle of his pointer finger. The rest of his fingers, hands, wrists, and arms were covered in similar spells.

As she watched him, she realized that the spells were squirming and shifting on their own, subtly changing their designs even as she looked at them. They seemed to be going over a refining process, becoming more efficient and streamlined even as blood leaked from the everso more complex channels carved in his flesh. Selene wasn’t certain if Endrance would even look like he had skin when it finished.

That was even if he was alive. Selene had no idea what was going on, but what she did know was that she would not leave Endrance behind. She slid to her side, letting her damaged legs recover while she simply pulled Endrance’s body up to her and held it. It was cold, but not so cold that it would have been considered a corpse. Tears sliding down her cheeks, she cradled the mage’s head in her lap and watched him.

All she could figure out was that something was happening, and whatever it was, she was going to be there for him. If he was dead, she would allow this place to be their mutual resting grounds. If he was becoming something worse, like his mother had, she hoped that she could prevent him from becoming a danger to the people he knew and loved.

Hours passed. The day grew into night, and Selene remained by his side. She was starting to drift off into sleep again when wetness touched her face, startling her. Looking up, she realized that a drop of rain had fallen, and several more began to patter down around her.

Before, the well had never actually held any water in it, but now would be a bad time. The building had prevented such precipitation from getting in, but now it was exposed to the elements.

Selene didn’t mind fading away with her love in her arms. She did mind drowning, and leaving behind a soggy pair of corpses. That was… nowhere as fine a death as she wanted.

By that time, her legs had recovered, so she rose to her feet. Unslinging her chain dagger, she hauled Endrance’s body up to drape him across her back. Once in place, she looped the thin chain around his body in several places to keep him from falling off of her. The whole time speckles of rain fell down around her.

It had taken her long enough to secure him to herself that an inch of water had accumulated in the well. Taking one last regretful look at the bottom, she extended her claws once again, and started climbing. Digging her claws into the magically-reinforced stone deep enough to support their combined weight was difficult, especially once they were slick with rainwater. She kicked off her boots, and after some effort extended the nails on her toes into claws too. She had had the ability before, but she refrained because it was hard on shoes and she didn’t usually have the luxury of being able to peel them off during a fight.

She climbed for hours, going slowly and steadily. When she got tired, she would jam her clawed fingers and toes into the stone as far as they would go and rest. Interestingly, the rain stopped relatively quickly, but would resume a few hours later as if it had never stopped.

As the suns rose the next day, Selene finally found the lip of the well. Exhausted, she hauled their bodies out of the well and dropped to the floor around it, not even caring about laying in the puddles on the damp stone. While resting for a few moments, Selene heard a strange sound behind her. Once she managed to untie Endrance, she discovered the source.

She had fallen out of the well near to where Pentarch had remained perched. As they lay there, the staff had started sliding across the stone towards Endrance’s body. Green and blue streams of colored wind seemed to drift out of the staff, caressing both Selene and Endrance. The magic of the grandstaff seemed to do something, causing Selene’s body to fill with vitality and strength without poisoning her like Malchoir had. Endrance didn’t seem to do anything, but some color returned to his skin.

The staff fell over, clattering to the ground. Any powers it seemed to have were spent; its color dulled.

Staggering to her feet, Selene scooped up Endrance and the grandstaff. She spread her wings, feeling the wind flow across the thin membranes before flapping them, launching into the sky.

Endrance died a hero, saving her and the others, and the world from a threat that only he had recognized. Taking him back to the other Draugnoa and their friends should have been the first thing she thought to do, but she had been so caught up in her own selfish remorse to think about what the others might have wanted. She’d still have to be on watch for his body’s condition, but having the others there with her… well, it would be better, she hoped.

Taking to the skies, she set off in the direction that the ship had gone. They’d all want to take him home. Normally Balator’s dead had the option to be cremated; it was the best way to ensure their souls reached the afterlife. However, heroes were always given a tomb. Even if she had to build it with her own hands, there would be a beautiful tomb for her fallen love. Her hero.

Epilogue

Time passed. Days dragged on into weeks. Endrance’s body showed no signs of life, but it wasn’t exactly dead either. His condition didn’t change over time, and he neither seemed to want food nor drink, or did he perform any bodily function. He was nothing but a shell. Giselle tried to lay next to him once, but couldn’t remain by his side for very long. She never returned to see him again in that state.

The only obvious change to his condition over time seemed to be related to the Shatter. The Shatter’s chaotic magical storms had dissipated practically overnight, to the point where by the time they returned to Ironsoul’s territory they were gone completely. Magical beasts and mutated creatures were witnessed struggling to survive in the suddenly static environment.

What changed in Endrance after that was that the spells on his body vanished at the same time. The next time they checked on him, his skin seemed smooth and unblemished. Not even the usual lines tattooed on his meridians remained. He looked, for all intents and purposes, like the corpse of a normal man.

The ship eventually returned them to the mainland, and Valzoa and the other elves parted ways with the party at the dock, thanking them for such a novel experience. He did insist that he be invited to Endrance’s funeral, if they were to host such a thing.

Returning to Mount Balator wasn’t difficult, but without Endrance’s teleportation magic it was time consuming. During the months of travel through the stone curtain and back to the mountain, the mage’s body did not seem to rot. It didn’t seem to do anything, but Anna faintly felt that there was something flowing through his body. Giselle confirmed it, there was a subtle stream of power still drifting through the body slowly. Since Endrance had been filled to the brim with more Quintessence than man was capable of measuring, they had no idea what it meant. Not that they were likely to allow any mages, save Giselle, from approaching his body.

Upon their return to Balator, things were a little difficult. Joven had to spearhead most of the discussions, since almost everyone refused to address the Draugnoa directly; even with their Spengur passed on, the ghost-women were dead to them. However, Joven’s efforts paid off when he got king Thorald involved. As his brother was the king’s great general, he was given much leeway.

One of the temples in the seventh bowl of the city had been abandoned when the last members of the faith had perished in war. It was decided then that the old temple would be cleared out and remodeled into a tomb fit for Endrance, who had earned the distinct honor of finishing off the last of the barbarian’s ancient foe. Even if it was really Tanya’s arrow that felled Malchoir, without Endrance they would never have gotten so far.

With nothing else to do, the four Draugnoa spent their days remodeling the temple. It was once a medium-sized building worshiping the teachings of a great prophet. Most of the furniture was sold off, the tapestries included, and several new tapestries and statuary were commissioned to replace them. When they went to clear away the area near the altar where the sarcophagus would be placed, they discovered something shocking.

Behind where the trio of tapestries depicting the mountain of Balator and the barbarians achieving great victories had hung, were three stone reliefs in the walls. Each one depicted one of the Fjallar in their greatest state. It looked like the three apocalypse birds were midair, clutching a single thread that spread between them. That alone was strangely appropriate, but it only became more uncanny when they moved the altar so they could measure the dais for Endrance’s resting place.

The altar had a secret hollow beneath it. In it, they found a metal plate, supposedly carved by the prophet themself. Bridget lifted the plate with her only hand, frowning as she worked through the words.

“The fates are an inde… inde… cipher-able sort.” she read aloud, struggling through the harder words she hadn’t had time to learn during their journey. “Their ploys and plays cross the destinies of all men, human or otherwise.”

The others gathered near her and Giselle, ever curious, clambered up behind Bridget to read over her shoulder. “To them, time and life are but threads they weave together. They hold the strings; they know when certain threads weave, and when all strings are cut.”

“Of those strings, there are the ones who are considered heroes. They are beacons of light to those who live in darkness. Where their threads travel, others weave around them to form powerful cords which alter the flow of hundreds, if not thousands of lives.” Giselle read out loud, having an easier time than Bridget.

“The cord of Heroes can go farther than most, but even they must inevitably come to an end. Sometimes it reaches its desired destination… and sometimes it too is cut. Regardless of how it happens, all threads come to an end. Only gods…” By the time she finished, Giselle’s eyes were watering again.

Bridget held up the tablet, looking frustrated. “What the hells.” she murmured. “Who put this here? How?”

Anna shook her head. “There’s something on the back.”

Flipping it over, Bridget was able to read the rest. “There has never been a moment when man transcends his thread of fate. But I have seen that beyond my time, such a thread exists. It will happen here, where my humble temple stands. Those who have faith in the ascended will be rewarded.”

“Do you think…?” Selene asked, looking over at the three Fjallar on the relief. “They were waiting for him?”

Tanya sniffed. “If so, then what are we doing?” she asked. “Are we really going to bury him?”

“No.” Bridget declared, tossing the plate to Anna and turning to the doors. “We’re going to put him to rest. He’ll wake up when he’s ready.”

“Endrance always did things at his own pace.” Selene replied, grabbing the altar and hefting the heavy stone object easily. “I’ll go throw this out. We’ll need a big bed… thing. With a crystal case.”

****

Balator treated the finalization of the tomb as a funeral. People came from around the world for the ceremony, including a surprising number of Ironsoul citizens and even a dozen elves. Of course Valzoa and Jalyin were among them. Jalyin expressed her regret over refusing to join in their journey, and placed her own daggers to rest alongside the hero.

Valzoa somehow managed to both ingratiate himself with the barbarian king and in the same hour fight him in a duel. Somehow despite Thorald’s advanced age, Valzoa lost, though it looked like a close thing. Fellinbursti did not participate in the event, though a small falcon was seen throughout the days surrounding the funeral.

Joseph, Endrance’s adoptive father, was also there for the funeral. While his role in the events were minimal at best, he was given high treatment from Balator as the acknowledged father of Endrance. Even knowing he hadn’t fathered him directly, the barbarians didn’t even recognize Malchoir or Valeria as legitimate parents of one of their national heroes. After the funeral, he was offered a place to live the rest of his days where he would want for nothing. He accepted, reluctantly.

Even Zadrah showed up, though mostly it was to complain about the damage his ship accrued from the journey. He was given a few hundred pounds of black iron to take home for his troubles. Since he had come alone, it was just as much of a nuisance as it was a boon. Zadrah eventually made it home, but in the months that he had been gone from Ironsoul, someone else had risen to take over his place among thieves. It was all the retirement that Zadrah could have asked for.

When all was said and done, Endrance’s tomb was closed up, with only the Draugnoa able to tend it. The abundance of gifts filled the space around the glass-enclosed space, further enhancing the regal appearance of the renovated temple. Swords, spears, suits of armor, and statuary of his appearance crowded around the sarcophagus, with candelabra flanking at the head and foot. Fitting for a hero laid in state. The staff that had been Pentarch had been laid besides Endrancee’s body, as well as an amulet crafted of Aurichalcum left by Leona rested on his chest.

Months passed, then years.

Life continued on. No Mercanians appeared in the space after, and collectively the Draugnoa had to assume that Endrance had successfully prevented their escape. Those who knew breathed a sigh of relief, while the ignorant were able to live their lives free from the worry of what a Mercanian return would mean for them.

The groups of the wolf-men living in Balator proper swelled, until they were a common sight in the city. Giselle had much to do with it, since she was both the daughter of a hero and someone with magical skills. King Thorald introduced the idea, and eventually it was declared that Giselle could be the next Spengur, should she wish for it. She accepted the offer, but deferred for a few years while she finished studying the collection of spell books that Endrance had left behind.

When she eventually did take her position as Spengur, she only took on one Draugnoa. Her skills in combat outmatched all but the most skilled barbarians, and she specialized in body-enhancing magic. That, and no one dared fight a wolf who would set herself on fire without taking harm during a battle. She fought duels to defend her position when challenged, and always won, untouched by her foe.

Joven had to leave again, to finish his oath to Meryl. He returned only a few weeks later, bruised and badly injured, but happy. It took him six months, but Gwen eventually forgave him for leaving her like he did.

Effectively retired from duty, Joven took over his mother’s business, learning smithing techniques and picking up the craft. Occasionally, he would go to the berserker’s refuge. There had been some terrifying sounds coming from within, but it was only a matter of time before he succeeded in freeing the first from the grip of the Furie. His brother Talen saw the outside world for the first time in a decade because of Joven’s efforts.

Tanya eventually slipped away from Balator to return to live near her home village. Occasionally she would visit in disguise where she was able to speak with her family directly. Otherwise, she kept to herself, practiced her archery, and watched over her family on their hunts. Eventually, rumors of a snow ghost began to spread through the area. This ghost was able to fell even the largest, magically empowered prey with only a few white-feathered arrows.

Bridget left Balator after a particularly frustrating brawl in which she almost lost because of her missing arm. She went south, heading across the stone curtain and further across occupied Ironsoul until she reached the Sea of Glass. A squad of elves were waiting for her, and she was escorted across the desert into their territory. She did not return for two years, but when she did, she had both of her flesh and blood arms again.

Her reading had also improved significantly.

Despite being in a Mercanian body, Anna had difficulties. Her ability to respire Quintessence was weak at best, and without Endrance’s guidance her strength slowly waned. Giselle had never been taught how the Mercanian body worked, and Endrance hadn’t left anything behind that could help. She eventually became chair-bound, and spent all her days in the tomb, sitting alongside her husband’s resting space.

She said she didn’t mind; she had already died once. He had given her a chance to see everyone again and fade away gracefully after. It seemed like a fine reward for everything they accomplished, and she wanted nothing more than to be put to rest alongside her Spengur.

The city of Balator experienced a sudden rash of deaths in the years after the funeral. People of malicious deeds but no punishable evidence were found dead on a regular basis. All of them had been somehow drained of their life energy and were withered away to almost nothing. Rumors of a curly-haired demoness flying the night sky hunting the wicked became popular among youths.

Selene was dedicated to keeping her slumbering husband safe. The streak of deaths had started when a corrupt religious leader among the king’s court tried to have Endrance’s tomb relocated somewhere smaller and out of the way. She investigated, and things only went downhill from there. She took every advantage of her Draugnoa status, as the barbarians on watch wouldn’t even consider trying to arrest her; even if she confessed, admitting to hearing the confession could get them exiled or worse.

Until the end of her days, she would insist it was the only choice, and that any of the Draugnoa would have made it in an instant.

****

Time continued to march forwards. Endrance remained untouched by rot or the passage of years.

Anna leaned against the side of the sarcophagus, resting her head on the glass casing she had spent so many years keeping clean. Her hair had grayed, and her features had prematurely aged as she was slowly fading away. It had finally gotten to the point where her legs had gone numb, and she knew that there wasn’t much time left for her.

Touching the crystal with a cold hand, Anna gave the man a smile.

“I hope this doesn’t get in the way.” she whispered. “Because I think it’s time for me to return to you, love.”

A soft, silken voice cut through the silence of the tomb. “Why? You’ve never left.”

Gasping, Anna slowly turned her head up. Sitting on the top of the sarcophagus, Endrance let his legs hang off the side while he propped his weight up on one arm. He seemed to be surrounded with a softly diffused glow, a dim halo of light that didn’t illuminate the area around him. Both of his eyes shone green, without the metal eye he once owned. Endrance looked down, where his body was still lying where it had been for years.

Anna looked from the body to the glowing man, her eyes welling with tears. “Endrance…” she whispered. “What?”

He leaned forwards, his hand touching the top of her head and ruffling her hair. “It’s taking me longer than I expected to process all of these people. I had a tiny bit of freedom to project an image.” he replied. “Oh, your hair…”

He kept his hand on her head, and Anna felt a consciousness touch hers. With casual effort, he placed the proper methods of respiration into her memories, as if she had spent her entire life as a Mercanian. Instantly, the numbness in her body started to recede, and tingling spread through the limbs she had thought were lost forever.

“That will take a little bit to recover.” Endrance assured her. “But I have gone through so many Mercanian memories that I could spare a few of them for you.”

“Are you going to be back soon?” Anna asked. “It’s been so very long.”

Endrance frowned at her. “Well, no,” he replied, “I’d say I’m only three, maybe four percent through all of them. There’s, well, a few hundred thousand left.”

He tilted his head, looking around the chamber and noting the dust build up in the edges. “How long has it been?” Endrance asked, his tone still soft but with a hint of fear over the answer.

Anna took his hand and held it to her. It felt like she was holding a hand made of metal, which had no warmth or pliability to it. It was a projection, after all. “It’s been seven years.” Anna said, closing her eyes. “Soon to be eight.”

“That’s…” Endrance’s projection did the math. “Even if I could rush, it would take me over a hundred years before I could even regain control of my body. Maybe even two hundred to finish all these imprints.”

Anna felt hot tears pouring down her face. “I know.” she said. “I expect that by the time you wake, everyone you’ve ever known will have passed.”

Endrance’s projection started to fade. Looking at himself, Endrance looked at her tearfully. “I’m sorry, everyone.” he murmured. “I wish I could have done more—”

“You’ve done more than enough!” Anna interrupted. “Don’t worry about us.”

“Tell everyone… that I love them.” he said. “I hope Giselle doesn’t hate me.”

“She doesn’t. We all know you did everything you could to come back.” Anna assured him.

“Thank you.” Endrance’s voice came a whisper. Then, he was gone again, his projection completely faded from view.

Anna started practicing the respiration, regaining her strength. It would take her a few weeks to get back to her peak condition, but she knew now what she needed to do.

She had somewhere to go. There were people who would want to know.

****

Endrance opened his eyes. Around him, the maelstrom whirled.

“That’s odd.” he said aloud. “I should have been able to maintain that projection indefinitely. What happened?”

A familiar voice caught his attention. Behind him stood the elf Meryl. She serenely hovered in the air on the same level as him. “I believe that is my fault.” she addressed him.

Endrance turned to face her, frowning. “You’re in my head?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t die, but I could have missed that. There’s a lot of people rummaging around in here.”

Meryl smiled, spreading her hands. As she did, her appearance seemed to melt away, revealing a gloriously beautiful elven female dressed in strips of green gauze and living vines. Her eyes were radiant suns, and her golden hair flowed on invisible winds. Her presence expanded exponentially in his perception, and while she hadn’t grown in size she seemed to be tremendous.

“The fact of the matter, young one,” Meryl replied, “Is that this isn’t happening in your head. That… well, it’s down there.”

She pointed down to the ruined architecture that was the library of his mind. The swirling souls and mental imprints made it hard to make out all but the basic foundations and the faintest glimmer where the silver pool had been.

“So… where is up here?” Endrance asked. “And are you a god? I’ve never seen a god before.”

The elf he knew as Meryl nodded. “A goddess, it’s true.” she said. “And here… we’re in the aether. The formless power that lies between realms. It is the stuff of which we gods had spun the worlds into being.”

Endrance surveyed the space around, which felt like a whole lot of nothing at the moment, but he could feel it. There was a potential in the space that he sensed he could change just by exerting his will on it.

“So I guess I’m really dead now, huh?” Endrance asked. “No chance you could, I dunno, revive me like you did Joven?”

Meryl shook her head. “You’re not dead.” she stated plainly.

“I’m… not?” Endrance asked.

“No.” Meryl continued. “And I didn’t revive Joven; he hadn’t quite expired by the time I rescued him. No, you have something much greater going on.”

Endrance looked back down at the ruined library, then around him at the Aether that had been just outside his consciousness. He wasn’t an idiot, and the clues were plentiful. He looked back at her. “Are you saying that I’m… like you?”

Meryl laughed, sounding like the purest, sweetest laughter in the world. “Oh, not quite yet.” she replied, gesturing to the maelstrom. “However, you’re pretty much there. You reached the comprehension of the universe necessary to ascend, but your mind is out of order.” she looked to the side, crossing her arms. “The other gods sent me to give you ‘the talk’ because you knew my mortal guise.”

“Oh I see.” Endrance paused, thinking. “If I qualified now, with only some of these imprints processed, how much more will I be capable of?”

Meryl smiled. “There’s a reason that I, the sun goddess Suo, came to see you. The others urged me to meet you because I am one of the few who could actually suppress you if you were insane.” She took a steadying breath. “Looking at all this power you’re accumulating, hundreds of thousands of years of progress and magical study, I feel that you’ve managed to do the impossible, even for us divinities.”

“Oh?” Endrance asked. While he was talking he was still filing through and processing everything, one imprint at a time. Still, finding out she was the goddess of the sun elves was a strange revelation. Why did she have a shop in Ironsoul? “But since you came so early I’m pretty weak, right?”

Meryl fixed him with a burning gaze. “They sent me because right now, I’m able to suppress you.” she said. “If you actually got all of this—” she gestured to the maelstrom. “Under your control, and made it a part of you, we’re facing the possibility of you being practically omnipotent. With your will, and the ability to shape the world on a whim, most of the gods that really exist cannot face you without expecting great losses.”

“I’m guessing…” Endrance asked, crestfallen. “That means that I’m not able to go back, huh?”

Goddess Suo shook her head. “Not your true self, at least.”

“I see.” Endrance murmured. “That a rule?”

“Sort of an agreement between us.” Suo answered.

Endrance looked down at his mental body, thinking. He looked back up at Suo. “I’m going to start making some changes around here. Thank you for letting me know. When I’m done, I’ll come talk to you.”

“Do you need me to teach you how to find us?” she asked.

Endrance shook his head, grinning. “Nah, I like figuring things out.” he said. Goddess Suo nodded in understanding.

“Then, I guess we’re done here.” she said, drifting back and away from him. A sort of gateway opened in the space behind her, revealing a tree-city growing out of an island floating in the aether. “Please come visit when you’re, well, you again.”

With Meryl-Suo gone, Endrance looked at himself and at the maelstrom of souls he was tending.

Endrance closed his eyes, using his power to not only manipulate the souls trapped inside him, but alter his own body and mind as well. His new understanding, gained from even a small percentage of the Mercanian race, was more than enough to allow him to make drastic improvements.

“What I need is not a library anymore,” Endrance declared, “But a grand archive.”

The library of his mind began to rise from below, reassembling and reconstructing along the way. Bricks, mortar, fabric and wood manifested out of thin air as the library expanded, becoming something far larger, far more powerful. The library became a grand archive, a multi-tiered pentagonal building with five domes capping each of the five wings. Each dome assembled as shards of colored glass glittered as they spun into existence. New, far grander stained glass murals spanned each dome, depicting one of his beloved companions. Anna, Selene, Bridget, Tanya, and Joven each stood as avatars of different aspects of his life.

In those wings of the archives he ensured a place for their souls to reside, should they come to stay.

“Let’s see,” he whispered as his archives continued to construct themselves below him. “Two-hundred years?”

Endrance smiled. “If I’m becoming a god, I bet I could do this much faster than that.”

He willed it, and so it was.

Afterword

Hey everyone! It was a heck of a ride getting here. Spellscribed was a labor of love, but also a labor of pain, sweat, blood, and tears. Basically all those ingredients of a good story… and a good spell, at that.

I wanted to say thank you, to all my readers and fans who had patience with me throughout the whole series. Spellscribed was my debut series, something that I ended up putting myself on the map with, which was kind of surprising for me. I had very little positive things going on in life when I started writing the first book, but since I released it things had begun to improve! Bit by bit, I was able to move up in life. I even got married, had two kids, and had many more amazingly positive events since I started.

I also learned quite a bit along the way about the whole writing process! As well as, understandably, learned a lot about things you shouldn’t do writing books! I appreciated the negative reviews just as much as the positive ones; you were able to help me grow as an author and I think I wouldn’t have improved as much without you.

I will be forever grateful to all of you who took the chance to enjoy a book by a no-name author and supported me. Without you, much of this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Spellscribed is now over. Endrance’s story is, well, ended, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t be writing stories in the same universe later. As of the time of publication, though, I have other projects that I want to work on. If you haven't seen it, my series ‘The Otherworld Saga’ is a fun romp through a completely different fantasy world with some sci-fi elements in it. If you like stories about more classical monsters and dungeons with a twist of pop culture references and bad dad joke humor, then you might enjoy that series.

Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go give my brain a rest.

Thank you one last time,

Kristopher Cruz