Transcending Limitations

by Brian Wilkerson

  Sagart looked to Annala.

  “What do you have in mind?” the younger cleric asked.

  “Latrot is weak right now. Epideus lost many enforcers and his latest queen when he attacked Roalt, and then many more enforcers and a high-grade ordercrafter when he attacked us. Now is the perfect time to raid it.”

  Chapter 5 A Class X Chaotic Zone

  The declaration sent the crowd into an uproar. Part of it cheered his courage and heroism and part of it denounced his recklessness and lack of concern for the village. A third part tried to physically stop him and a fourth part helped him by physically stopping them. Eight words and sixty seconds was all it took to turn Annala’s ordination into a brawl. Meza only needed one of each to change it back.

  “SILENCE!”

  With the crowd pacified, he gestured to Sagart that he wished to hear her answer.

  “Ambitious as always,” she remarked. “Yet you make a good argument. You will have my support as a holy woman of Chaos.”

  These words wiped away any and all resistance to the proposed raid. While Meza was well known as a war hawk and extremist, Sister Sagart was a voice of reason and a spiritual advisor. If she supported it, then the plan had merit.

  “Thank you, Sister Sagart.” Meza bowed to her and then addressed Annala. “What about you, Acolyte Annala?”

  Annala put a hand over her chest. “You would accept my help?”

  “Why would I refuse? You were taught by Sagart and you have twice her chaotic power.” He extended his hand to her. “I’d be a fool to refuse your help.”

  She grabbed his hand. “Then I’m coming with you. After experiencing Order’s enslavement first hand, I want to save as many as I can from it.”

  Meza grinned. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” Then he looked over into the crowd and said, “I appreciate your offers, but this holy mission should be left to the professionals.” His gaze settled on one person in particular. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Watley?”

  Eric raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking a temp for help?”

  “I’m asking The Trickster’s Choice. Don’t worry, you’ll be paid. I’ve already cleared it with that receptionist of yours. She’s so friendly and energetic, it’s a pity that she’s not an elf.”

  Eric smiled. Mia’s so cute and sweet that even a racial supremacist like Meza can’t help but like her. Resistance is futile.

  “Does that mean my team is coming along?”

  Meza had a mighty laugh at that and his entire corps joined him. “Trickster no,” he said at last. “Anyone without chaotic power is liable to be enthralled by Order as soon as they cross the border. You’ll be safe because Tasio’s hand is on your head.”

  Eric looked at The Trickster himself. “Are you coming?”

  “You can hardly sneak in with someone as magnificent as me in your party.” Then he put his literal hand on Eric’s literal head. “But if you truly need my help, then I will be there, as I always am and always will be.”

  “Eric Watley,” Meza said, “what is your answer?”

  Illegally crossing the border into Latrot in order to free slaves could get him into legal trouble that Reywall couldn’t get him out of. More importantly, it would be a direct attack on Order. It would be a personal declaration of war.

  Annala’s definitely worth going to war.

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Excellent. Kallen can tell you what you’ll need. I bet she’s been waiting years for this.”

  “Hardly,” Kallen replied. “I have bigger goals in mind, but this will do for now.”

  “Thatta girl.” Meza turned his back on them and returned from where he came. “Make your preparations immediately. My corps and I will meditate until you are ready.”

  Sagart left for her rectory to replace her ceremonial robe with something more practical. Kallen grabbed Annala’s hand and darted towards Hariana Inquires. She said she would pick up something for Eric over her shoulder. This left Eric the task of convincing Tiza why she had to stay behind.

  “You’re being species-ist!”

  She stomped around her room at the Universal Embassy in a foul temper. She too was dressed for battle and with new stock as well. This wasn’t the standard mortal fare made by Ax’s Arsenal but something elven. There was even a second sword across her back under a new shield. Eric would have to ask her how she paid for it all later.

  “No, I’m not,” he said. “It’s a fact of your biology.”

  Tiza punched through the wall next to her with a gauntleted hand. “That’s what all the species-ists say! How does being a grendel make you any better for raiding Order than a human?”

  “I am a grendel who has been radiated by Chaos. I traveled through the Veins of Noitearc four times, I achieved chaotic enlightenment that involved genuine chaotic energy, and I used to have a Seed of Chaos inside me. You don’t have any of that.”

  “I have the next best thing!” She spun in place. “Look at all this! Everything elves make is anti-order. It’s like having a chaotic shell!”

  “It’s not enough,” Nolien said. “You’ll be vulnerable if someone takes it off.”

  “It can’t be taken off by someone else! Need Filler guaranteed it!”

  “‘Need Filler’?” Eric asked. “You mean Kaiba Gunrai?”

  “Yeah. Nice guy. He gave me all this stuff for free so I could help beat down the guy who invaded his home.”

  Suddenly, Nolien grabbed Tiza’s arm and scanned her armor with his magic horn. Tiza pulled her arm free and found her waist in Eric’s grendel grip.

  “Hey! What are you guys doing?!”

  “Beware strange elves bearing gifts,” they replied.

  “In all the fairy tales I read growing up,” Eric said, “when an elf gives free stuff to a human stranger, it is never truly free.”

  “It’s the same on this side,” Nolien said, still scanning. “Didn’t Sathel teach you not to accept candy from fair folk?”

  “Now you’re definitely being species-ist,” Tiza said while squirming in Eric’s metallic hands. “There’s nothing wrong with this armor; now let me go!”

  “Nolien?” Eric asked, ignoring Tiza.

  “Almost done...Trickster!” He stopped scanning the armor and started looking for latches. “This armor is designed to meld with the wearer’s spirit to amplify their spiritual abilities; certainly a plus for a mercenary tank, but...”

  Tiza swatted his hands away. “See! It’s great!”

  Nolien continued tracing the armor as if she had held still. “The end result will be the wearer’s spirit leaving their body for the armor and getting stuck there. You’ll be a walking suit of armor with nothing in it!”

  “See? It’s great!” Tiza repeated.

  Eric and Nolien stared at her in silence. She looked back defiantly.

  “The both of you are demons and Bloody Daylra’s a mana breed. How long can I keep up as a human? Right now, it’s just the control freak field in Latrot, but what’s next? What other missions will I be excluded from just because I’m a puny human? What if I get shunted off into some office position at the guild, and have to wear heels to work? A suit of magic armor would make for a better mercenary.”

  She crossed her arms over her cuirass.

  “If you try to remove this armor and expect me to docilely accept it, then I’m changing your nicknames to ‘Siegfried’ and ‘Gunther.’” She snorted as the shock on their faces deepened. “Yes, Adrenaline Junkie knows how to read. I would much rather be called that than ‘Secretary’ or ‘My Lady,’ even if I have to hear it with magical doohickeys instead of my own ears.”

  Nolien groaned. “You’re still mad about that? I value you as a teammate.”

  “Bullshit.” The word was so intensely spoken that Eric removed his hands from her waist because his instincts said he might lose them if he didn’t. “Ever since we met, you’ve treated me like some damsel you have to take care of.”

  “I’m the team’s healer! T
aking care of you is my job!”

  Tiza cleared her throat and jerked her thumb at Eric. Nolien face palmed.

  “And Eric. Taking care of you and Eric is my job.”

  “Admit it; you’d rather see me in an evening gown than plate mail.”

  Nolien grabbed both of her arms at the shoulder and locked eyes with her through her visor. “I don’t want you to be arm candy or a living weapon. I like you just the way you are!”

  “Then why did you...!”

  Eric didn’t hear the rest because he tuned it out. It could go on for a while. In fact, he was banking on it taking until he came back from the mission. He tiptoed out of the room without them noticing his departure.

  Ten minutes later, he was puking on Mithra’s western border. Annala was at his side, rubbing his back and, when he was finished, wiping his mouth. There was little to clean because he hadn’t eaten yet, but she did so anyways. Teleportation always did this to him, and the greater the distance, the more he heaved. For all he knew, Dnnac Ledo was on the other side of the world from Mithra.

  After everyone was ready for the raid, they gathered at Hariana Inquires for teleportation. Unlike the Arch of Kresnik at the Universal Embassy, this device only operated in one direction. It basically fired the contents of its magic circle at a given location instead of creating a gate that could be crossed from either side. Even this was difficult, magically complicated, and required a good deal of energy. It was called an Oswald Arrow and it dropped them on the east bank of the Sussano River. This was about two miles away from Latrot’s eastern border.

  Teleporting directly into Latrot was impossible. A barrier known as the Order Grand Domination Field prevented such a thing. It surrounded the entire country and dipped into both the sky and ground to create a perfect sphere against invaders. It was similar to the Chaotic Curtain protecting Dnnac Ledo, and like the Chaotic Curtain, it was projected by a towering structure at its center, the Grand Obelisk.

  To the east of Latrot was the Sussano River separating the country from Mithra. It was considered neutral territory. To the west of it was the Latlis Ocean and the Grand Obelisk extended its power as far as the country’s territorial waters. To the north and south was ten miles of bare plain. Ataidar, Anich, and Mithra protected their side with ditches, walls, towers, and patrols from both the country’s military and Noitearc monks. On the Latrot side, there were no walls, no ditches, no towers, nor patrols, but no one could mistake it as being unguarded.

  The Grand Obelisk cast Order’s gaze over the entire country, and everything it saw was under its domination. The intensity of this control created distortions in reality and they shimmered constantly. The interior was largely calm, but the border was volatile.

  It was like a door to other worlds that was both flung open and jammed shut at the same time. Strange things happened to people who traveled it, and ghosts or other abstract creatures wandered it in place of monsters. Physical things like dirt and water existed side by side with the more astral aspects of other planes of existence. Special arches and tunnels had to be constructed to enable safe travel in or out of the country. World Fruit Scholars designated it a “Class X Chaotic Zone” because there was nothing else like it in the world. It was the last thing Eric wanted to see after looking up from his vomit.

  The little food paste he ejected was already frozen on the ground. A dozen yards away from him, the Sussano River slowly flowed with ice and snow.

  “We have to cross this tundra in order to cross that no man’s land, don’t we?”

  “There’s no other way,” Meza said. “Don’t worry your little mortal head about it. Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine.”

  Then Meza considered his raiding party. They ranged from young to old and male to female, and one who insisted on being all four simultaneously. The old veterans stood at attention, oblivious to the chill and ready to follow their leader into righteous action once again. The younger were shivery, distracted, and swiftly regretting leaving the village. To them, Meza addressed this speech:

  “A cold and dark season is nothing to us! Our hearts burn hotter and our souls shine brighter. However, as the great sage J.R.T. once said, ‘One does not simply walk into Pox.’”

  He strolled amongst them without a care. He flashed encouraging smiles, clapped shoulders, and shook hands as he moved through the group. As their leader, he felt their confidence strengthen and spirits fortify.

  “The very air is a barrier, and if you break through, Order will know. He is everywhere and controls everything. His legions of ordercrafters and enforcers are more powerful here than anywhere in the entire world. Not with ten million human soldiers could you invade it.”

  He stopped in front of them and sighed theatrically.

  “I guess I’ll have to make do with only ten elven ones.”

  His followers chuckled. One of them elbowed Eric, who, at the moment, looked like a human. He smiled to humor her.

  “Check your equipment one more time before we set off. Despite its weakened state, it is still dangerous. If anyone screws up here, I’ll sit them down and recite my best poetry until Alexis rescues them.”

  His followers chuckled again while they conducted their check. Each of them had an Order Negator Gauntlet, command code cheat sheet, numerous chiem in various places, and sleek black body suits to ward off Order’s influence. Over these suits, each of them wore a grey poncho that would hide them from Order’s sight.

  Eric, Kallen, Annala, and Sagart also checked their equipment. Theirs was less organized and uniform, being an eclectic mix based on their profession. Eric, the mercenary, carried his staff, a chiem given to him by Forge, and a couple gadgets from Nunnal, such as a Spiritual Automatic Vengeance Enabler. Kallen, the mana mutation field agent, had her staff and devices that she created for her work in addition to gifts from her adoptive brother and mother. She also wore a SAVE over her chest. As the only two mortals on this mission, they needed such devices in case they were lethally injured.

  Sagart, the veteran priestess, wore a paidrin on her neck and carried a crosier in her hands. A copy of the Elven Tome was strapped on her back. Annala, the novice priestess, copied her in terms of holy items, but for weapons, she carried her personal bow Deathkiller, its quiver, and a pair of chiem in dagger and short sword varieties.

  An unnerving wail rang out across the emptiness and a wave of grey mist followed in its wake. From the border, it raced toward the raiding party. Hateful faces grew out of its bulk only to sink back in and be replaced with others. Meza and his followers took up warding stances while Sagart and her disciple prepared holy circles, but the wave of souls ignored them. Their targets were Eric and Kallen.

  The spirits engulfed them with their mass and their moaning. Their extra-dimensional presence oozed through Eric’s barrier and his body to reach his soul. Their pain and malice crashed into him, and their confusion and madness bewildered him. He could barely stay conscious, much less fight them off.

  “Give up,” whispered a voice from beyond the din of souls. “Embrace peace and you will find salvation.” The voice was familiar to Eric, but he couldn’t place it. “Life is pain and death is...I can’t read this crap. Just quit already, stinking mortal! You can’t escape Lesson Four!”

  A clear and precise strike dislodged the spirits. A clean breeze like those of spring swept his soul. A holy presence replaced the malevolence and he came back to his senses.

  “Eric! Master Eric! Are you okay?! You shouldn’t be here, you’re mortal and...!”

  Eric pressed a hand over her mouth. “I’m fine, thanks to you. What happened?”

  “Hostile spirits,” Sagart said. She was supporting Kallen. “You and Kallen drove them mad with Chaotic Starlight while simultaneously sucking them into our world before they were ready. All they have is a grudge against you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?” Eric demanded. “I promised Priestess that I would stay away from areas heavy in spirits. She’s convin
ced they’ll be the death of me because the local reapers don’t like me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?” Annala smacked him on the head. “I could have told you that Meza’s raiding party would have to travel through an area infested with spirits!” She smacked him a second time, then herself three times. “I’m sorry, Master Eric! Please punish me for my misbehavior in any way you see fit.”

  “Annala!”

  Annala jumped to attention. “Yes, Sister Sagart?”

  “I will now instruct you in spirit repulsion. By the time Meza calls the march, I believe you will be able to protect Eric and Kallen from whatever lies ahead in the spiritual marshes.”

  “I will do my best!”

  Thus the emergency lessons began. Wearily, Eric sat on a rock nearby and stared at the reason for them. The flashes of golden-brown underneath the shimmering silver-grey were rapid and violent. The mist between them and him was immense and agitated. Here he was, about to march straight through it all.

  “Point of no return,” he muttered to himself.

  Kallen sat down next to him. “Nervous?”

  Eric snorted. “I haven’t been this scared since I marched into the Yacian Caverns with apprentice level magic and a soggy spirit.”

  “You don’t you have to go, you know. No one’s going to force you.”

  “No way. I stopped running away from things when I saw Tahart abusing Annala.”

  Kallen’s eyes narrowed. “Then how fitting it is that you are here now.”

  Eric tilted his head to look at her. “What do you mean?”

  Kallen pointed to the border and the towns beyond it. “Over there, a bunch of people are being abused by bullies. The fundamental nature of what you’re doing has not changed; only the scale of it.” She leaned into him slightly. “You have not changed either; you’re still the heroic mercenary who values golden hair more than golden coins.”

  “When you put it that way,” Eric said self-consciously, “it seems silly to be scared.” He shook his head. “This is different. If I wasn’t in Order’s crosshairs before, I definitely will be now. He’ll hunt me for the rest of my life.”