Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3)

by Brian Wilkerson

  "You really shouldn't space out with Waol's power," Kallen admonished. "Humans and elves are two-thirds water; you might do something nasty on accident."

  "Sorry...just thinking about something..."

  "Shapeshifting?"

  "How'd you know?"

  "It’s not hard with the way you touched your hair just now. It'll happen. Trust me; it will."

  "How do you know?"

  Kallen grabbed several strands of hair and made sure they belonged to the streaks of golden-brown. “Did you really think this happened in a mana storm?” She flipped it and collapsed her staff. “Let's stop for today. We can take up your training again tomorrow."

  “Sure.” Eric collapsed his own staff. “It’s about time for the vanguard to arrive anyway.”

  “What!?” Kallen pulled out her scry to check the time. “Abyss! You’re right!” She pulled her staff back out. “I’m not gonna have time to change!”

  Lightning flashed and she was gone. Eric chuckled and left their training area the old-fashioned away; one foot in front of the other.

  This area was a small space outside the village. By now, it was dotted with craters, mounds, lava pools, ice fields, and a micro jungle. If one scrubbed the grass or snow, they could quickly generate enough static electricity to power an oven. Much of it was charred, flooded, or overgrown and then frozen. Eric felt confident in his new abilities, but, as powerful as they were, they still wouldn’t be enough to kill someone empowered by Order himself. He needed the final light, but Wiol hadn’t answered his bi-daily prayers for an audience.

  On his way back, he spotted a crowd of elves walking towards the Universal Embassy. They were not dressed formally. In contrast, they were dressed for battle. This briefly registered as a threat until he saw that their weapons were signs and banners instead of swords and spears.

  As long as none of them shouts “KUAKI!” I don’t care.

  The front door to the Enaz house was ajar and a scorch mark could be seen two feet away from it; Kallen didn’t stop to close it after teleporting. At the dining room table, Forge was dressed in formal blacksmith robes and playing with a handheld.

  “Is anyone else done?”

  Forge spared him a glance before returning to his game.

  “Right. Stupid question.”

  He ran up the stairs to his room, where his own formal wear was waiting in his pack. When he stepped through the door, he found a package on his bed. Opening it up, he found a traditional elven robe. He'd read about them just the other day; male formal wear during special ceremonies and inter-village meetings. This particular one had a traveler's hood and a brooch marking the wearer as mage. He choked up at the second; most elves were mages but only special ones got the brooch. That Nunnal would make this showed her faith in his abilities.

  A dragon standing in a cave was stitched over the front and back while a pair of crossed black staves could be seen on the sleeves. The Flower Chaos was here too; its place was over the wearer's heart and along the skirt.

  The cuffs and hems were embroidered, and the fabric was very soft. Eric couldn't believe Nunnal spent this much on him. It made him feel guilty. He was still a novice mage; a novice human mage because elven magic still eluded him. Suddenly, he didn't feel comfortable putting the robe on. He didn't feel like he deserved it.

  He was just about to fold the robe and return it to its box when another thought occurred to him. If he put on his own formal clothes, from his human culture, when Nunnal had gone to so much trouble...It was too insulting to consider. So he stood in the room, robe in his arms, frozen.

  Nunnal knocked on the door. "Eric, are you ready?"

  "Ahhh...ummm..."

  "Are you dressed?"

  "Ahhh...yes?"

  The door opened. "How are you not sure you're...oh. Have you decided not to come?”

  "No!... It’s about the dress, I mean, the robe…it doesn’t suit me. Not that it’s a bad article, it’s great but…” He manually shut his mouth with his hand.

  Nunnal smiled kindly. "This is about the decorations, isn't it?" Eric nodded meekly. "Don't worry about the cost, Vanquisher of Dengel." Eric's head shot up, mouth agape. "Yes, we know all about that. I take you know about the Fallen One Festival?"

  Eric nodded. "It’s about shaming Dengel's memory. You burn his effigies. You throw dung on his statue. You tell how his hubris killed him when he would otherwise live forever. There's a dance to demonstrate proper courtship, and a feast to celebrate the fact that he's gone."

  "That's right," Nunnal said with a nod, "and you prevented his return."

  "I caused it in the first place!"

  "Didn't you fix that right away?"

  "Well...with help from Kasile...yes..."

  "That's right, you also foiled that coup."

  "For the last time, I didn't do anything!"

  "You protected my daughter's virginity and her future. That's more important to me."

  Eric blushed again. He did do that, and all by himself too. He couldn't argue that one.

  "Think of the robe as a token of my appreciation," Nunnal said. "Or, if you prefer to put this in mercenary terms, as a reward and payment."

  Ponix walked in, fumbling with the high collar of his own robe. It was similar in style, but the symbols were different, such as the hand of diplomacy. In addition to these, there was one decoration in his personal style and it wasn't stitched; a game of tic-tac-toe.

  "Eric, why aren't you ready? Oh, I bet it doesn't fit right, right? But that won't be a problem, not for us elves. By the power of Lady Chaos, our bodies can shrink, twist, and sculpt in the slightest or greatest degrees so as to fit any piece of clothing regardless of other factors. Why, when we were dating, Nunnal made me a sweater with the head and sleeves in the wrong places, so I transformed to make her feel better!"

  Nunnal turned a shade of red but smiled all the same.

  "However, this is not the case with females, as they bear a deep aversion to shapeshifting into clothes. I think it might be because they are vai-EHP!" Ponix gasped as his wife secured his collar, tightly. "They already look gorgeous in whatever they wear!" he choked out.

  Nunnal loosened his collar accordingly.

  "Eric, we'll be leaving soon. If you want to come, you have to get dressed now," Nunnal said. "Annala's waiting."

  That was all Eric needed. He used water avatarcraft to cleanse himself and fire to quickly dry. Then he changed into the robe and tied the sash around his waist, securing it tight. He noted that the hem was wide enough to allow fancy footwork, then he chortled at himself. Here he was going to an international vanguard meeting as a guest and yet he thought of himself as a guard. He took a breath to dissolve his nerves. As a guest, he'd have to mind his manners.

  Four-fifths of the Enazes were waiting for him at the front entrance, but all he saw was Annala. Clad in a pink evening gown, she looked radiant.

  The bodice flowed snugly down to her waist and then to a clingy skirt around her ankles. Flowers made to resemble the Flower of Chaos decorated it. There were no sleeves, only elbow length gloves. Her hair was now over half grey, which created the impression that the tips were dyed golden-brown. It was up in a chignon with a braided tulip behind each ear. Looking at her, Eric forgot to breathe.

  Annala herself was at a loss for words. She didn't realize how handsome he would look in her culture's formal wear. Nunnal couldn't resist “aww”ing and imagining grandkids. Sharing the thought, Ponix was looking forward to passing on his love of puzzles. Eric descended the stairs and offered his arm to Annala. She accepted and stood as close as she politely could. It was only then that Kallen emerged from her room.

  Her hair was still damp from her shower and pulled into a messy bun. She didn’t have time for make-up or flowers. She was wearing the same sky pattern dress from the last Summit and the New Scepter Competition. It was a little small on her and in need of ironing. When she saw her sister, splendid and hanging on Eric’s arm, she slouched and dimmed.
/>
  Emily slid a lily behind her ear and said, “Don’t worry, Boss. You look great.”

  Kallen smiled. “Thanks.”

  Their walk to the Universal Embassy was uneventful until they arrived. Some elves, like themselves, wanted to co-exist with humans and met them on the way. Others, while they had nothing personal against humans, still didn't like them and stayed as far away as possible. Still others had stronger feelings and wanted to be close enough to protest.

  They marched back and forth across the front lawn with posters of a crossed-out human face. They recited the atrocities humans had committed against them and each other with history books in hand. Above them flew a banner proclaiming, “Temps Are Trouble.” However, Eric noticed that they stayed outside of the tree guards' striking range.

  “Here's the traitors now!" Meza jeered. "And they’re bringing their powerless spawn and Dengel's mortal coil with him! Even The Trickster’s Joke is coming!"

  Annala stepped closer to Eric and his eyes slitted. He hid a compressed mana bolt in his free hand. The moment they made a move against his lady, he would blast them to pieces and feast on their remains. Forge stood on Annala’s other side and palmed a dagger. Kallen fearlessly blew a raspberry at Meza and Emily followed her lead. Nunnal and Ponix took point.

  “The Scatterbrained Schmoozer and the Witch of Dnnac Ledo, off to play with the Decayed Darwoss,” Meza continued. “Never has a human family been more pathetic in their jealousy of the Favored Race!”

  The protestors simultaneously shouted derogatory language while listing off more war crimes with second mouths.

  "Hear this, traitors? This is your history! The history of your parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents! Thousands of years of bigotry and evil! The people who were tortured and raped and enslaved by the filth you're meeting with!"

  Ponix stepped forward and snapped. A tiny wave rippled from his fingers and cancelled the noise of the protestors. Irresistibly, it drew their attention away from the Universal Embassy and towards the man in charge of it.

  “You’re absolutely right. Humans did everything you say, but these humans in particular did not. In fact, they’re rallying like you’re doing in protest of this meeting and saying many of the same things you are. You have a lot more in common than you think.”

  He extended his arms in welcome.

  "The Conversion War ended over four hundred years ago. The great-grandchildren of those humans aren't alive anymore. I invite you all to come with me and meet them for yourself.”

  They hesitated.

  “What’s this I see? It couldn’t possibly be fear. The Favored Race has nothing to fear from puny humans, right? Surely you want to show off, if nothing else.”

  One elf stepped out of the crowd. It was Nilo, and she was decked in light magical armor. With her hair tied back and the light of battle on her face, she looked like a guardian herself.

  “Legend says that Muags the Hoarder hired humans because of their simple-minded greed. Decayed Darwoss will make a perfect character study. Besides,” she struck a pose, “they deserve to see what a real elf girl looks like.”

  Meza smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “That’s my little warrior. Ralm, get over here.” The boy was at his elbow in an instant. “That Darwoss spawn won’t be able to control himself around my great niece. Make sure he keeps his hands to himself.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll stay here and direct an offensive if necessary.”

  “You know, Meza,” Ponix said, “other villages have moved on and live in peace with humans. The total is some fifty percent of Avalon."

  "Then they're traitors too!"

  “The Supreme Council authorized this meeting to extend the reach of our Grandmother, Lady Chaos, and beat back our evil uncle. Meza, you approved it to release our enslaved brethren. Why are you protesting this?”

  Meza marched forward. His posture promised retribution against the diplomat while Ponix remained calm yet steadfast. Then a short little boy ran past him and jumped up to Ponix’s eye level. Hovering there with hummingbird wings, he began his declaration.

  “Because humans are evil and primitive worms that cannot conceive a higher thought than base self-gratification nor hold true to a promise greater than the memory of goldfish and the highest ambition and ultimate goal of such debased creatures is the subjugation of all things into a sitcom for their petty, commercialized, amusement.”

  The younger members of the mob immediately echoed this sentiment, and thereby forgot their previous grudges in light of this new one. The older members, Meza included, groaned at the shame they brought upon the group. Emily and Eric laughed. While the hate mongers paused at the humans laughing at themselves, the one who had spoken up winked at Eric and vanished.

  Several more elves joined Nilo. Most were goaded by Ponix’s words, but some were genuinely interested in seeing a real life human. It was a scholarly interest, like bird watching. Then there were a couple who wanted to play with their goldfish-like memory.

  The Enaz family and their guests entered the protection of the tree sentinels and more verbal abuse followed them in. From the back, Annala’s hair was more visible and the Subjugation Collar as well. One of the mob took notice and shouted, “Static Elf! Hair-Dyed Human! I’m glad that treacherous human collared you!”

  Eric was about to release the compressed bolt when Annala tightened her grip.

  “Don't,” she whispered. “They're right.”

  “Annala!”

  “They are,” she continued. "Without my powers, without...” She cut off and gulped. “I am nothing but a human with hair dye.”

  “Annala....”

  Inside the Universal Embassy, the atmosphere had changed since Eric’s arrival. No elf was lounging about or slacking off; all of them were busy with last-minute preparations. There were still banners to hang, flowers to place, food to set out, tables to set up, and rooms to prepare. Guardians patrolled every hallway looking for trouble and they, in turn, were watched to make sure they weren’t causing any themselves and even these watchers were watched by Ponix to make sure they didn’t “accidentally” miss anything.

  Inside the Arch of Kresnik’s chamber, a red carpet had been rolled out from the Arch itself to the exit. Elves in uniform lined each side of it; men as butlers and women as maids. This struck Eric as extreme for a town whose people didn’t like visitors, but then he remembered Annala’s deal. The price for medical mana mutation was the freedom of elven slaves.

  They want this to happen as much as Norej and for similar reasons.

  “I hear Tiza spent a week in the land of tents, getting to know her not-boyfriend’s family,” Kallen remarked. “Either she’s all polished and proper by now, or she’s gone mad.”

  “As we say on my home world, ‘you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.’”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kallen said. “The power of love can make people do bizarre and extreme things; things that were not thought to be possible. This is all the more the case in a world where is love is equivalent with chaos.”

  “Alright, alright, if she walks through the teleport wearing a dress, then I will give you ten gold Ataidar coins. Otherwise, you have to give me ten.”

  Kallen spat on her bare hand. “Deal.”

  Eric spat on his own bare hand and they shook.

  The Arch of Kresnik hummed to life and a screen of light filled it. The elves in attendance tensed, and Eric’s monster instincts yelled “ambush.” Then someone stepped through the light and set foot on the pedestal.

  It was a tall man with cropped silver hair. He had a delicately featured face that was twisted by an expression of disgust. He wore a red suit with orange flame engraving and the royal seal in many places. His own family crest (a crossed trident and sword over a blue sea background) was placed over his heart, but it was small and nowhere else.

  “Hello, elves. I am Lord Isuna Darwoss, First Baron of Darwoss. Your Arch of Kresnik is so
amazing it made me sick, but I won’t throw up because I don’t want to offend you.”

  Norej followed behind him and immediately said, “My father hates Dengel more than he hates any of you. I want to make sure that’s clear.”

  “Absolutely,” Isuna said. “The only thing worse than an arrogant elf is an arrogant elf that betrays his family or his community.”

  The room filled with scowls, frowns, and glares. Norej laughed nervously.

  “He’s trying, he really is. I’m sure once he gets to know you, we’ll get along better.”

  Next through the portal was a well-dressed man with slicked blue hair. He wore a fine long-sleeved dress tunic with a coat of arms stitched over the heart. There were emblems and medals for healers and warriors attached to his tunic and a few more on his dress pants.

  It was the coat of arms that grabbed Eric's attention: two creatures, a griffin and another winged beast that looked vaguely lupine, standing back to back on a battlefield. Each one held a white staff in their left hand and black sword in their right hand. Facing the sword was a gaggle of monsters and facing the staff was a huddle of injured sapients. This was the crest of the Noble House of Heleti. This man must be Nolien’s father.

  The man grinned gregariously at the crowd awaiting them and stepped forward.

  “Good day, people of Dnnac Ledo! I am Lord Mebalos Yani, First Duke of Heleti. I’m honored to be here.” He bowed and stepped off the platform.

  Next to step through was a woman with shining black hair. It fell long and straight down her back while the bangs were clipped and moderate forelocks touched her shoulders. Her bodice shared the same healer crests as Mebalos, but slender dragons soared on her dress instead of griffins. Her smile was more subdued but no less friendly. Nolien’s mother…

  “I am Lady Kurami Yani, First Duchess of Heleti. I thank you for your invitation.” She curtsied and joined her husband.

  Next through the portal was a teenage girl who Eric presumed was Nolien’s younger sister. She had the same black hair as her mother and the glossy strands were held in a bun by silver pins while two ringlets framed her face. Her ankle-length gown was meticulously tailored. A square neckline showed off her necklace and other assets, then led to long and wide sleeves, ending with gold wrist cuffs. The heels on her feet looked more expensive than some light armor. She was beautiful in a haughty way.