Mai didn’t need to tell me that, I wasn’t interested in risking becoming Lilith’s lab rat so I still answered both of them with, “I understand.”
‘Good,’ Mai sniffed.
“If it’s okay with you, I can run a quick scan to see if you have the necessary talent,” Lilith offered.
“Go ahead,” I nodded.
Lilith exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a few seconds. When she reopened them, her eyes were imbued with a pale blue halo. They were looking at me but it somehow felt as if they were looking beyond, as if she was looking at a part of me that existed beyond the traditional physical plane. A moment later, the glow faded. Her eyes peered into mine and she said simply, “Sorry, you don’t have any magical strength or mana. Not a lick of either.”
‘Humph, that’s not exactly surprising,’ mumbled Mai and I had to agree. I was quite familiar with my stat window and it clearly listed me with no magic or mana.
“Watch this,” I said back. “Status.”
Name
†Isaac N. Stein†
Level
28
Class
†Otherist†
Exp
353/5150
Health
250/250
Satiety
98/100
Stamina
350/360
Hydration
91/100
Mana
0/0
Status
Cocky
Vitality
25↑
Strength
24↑
Agility
28↑
Endurance
36↑
Magic
0↑
Dexterity
27↑
Energy
0↑
Defense
20↑ (+28)
Intelligence
40↑
Unspent
10
What interested me was the last line, the 10 points I had yet to assign. Each time I gained a level from killing monsters, I gained 5 unassigned points. This was one of the few essential differences between a person from Earth and the other residents of Tautellus. This world’s natural inhabitants’ abilities developed based on natural talent and effort. Instead, otherworlders received unassigned stat points.
I silently tapped the ‘Magic’ and ‘Energy’ tabs on the status screen, dividing those unused status points evenly between the two attributes. To Lilith these actions must have seemed strange, the mumbling commands and waving of hands. She obviously couldn’t see my stat screen. That was unique to me and I guess to Mai who saw it through me.
I waved the status screen away and met Lilith’s eyes with my own. A strange new energy shivered throughout my body. “Really? How about now?”
Lilith frowned at me and reactivated her eyes. It wasn’t long before she gasped.
“What the hell?” she swore as her glowing eyes faded. “You have magic now. It’s weak, but it’s definitely there.”
“Uh-huh,” I nodded.
“How?”
“I’m just awesome,” I boasted.
“Really?” Lilith doubted. “You know I’m just going to bug you all the way to Crystalpeak. So you might as well tell me now and save yourself some grief.”
‘It won’t hurt to tell her,’ Mai added. ‘It’s not a secret. She already knows you came from another world. Just be sure to keep ME a secret.’
“All otherworlders can do it,” I explained.
“All of you?” Lilith repeated.
“Is it really all that strange? We can come back from the dead, and you’re surprised that we can also use magic,” I commented.
“No it’s not that it’s that I didn’t sense any magical ability before,” said Lilith.
“I didn’t have any a moment ago,” I admitted. “I guess our power is best described as the ability to choose what our gifts are. I just added some magical ability instead of improving my strength or speed.”
“And all travelers can do this?” Lilith asked cautiously. Human mages were rare in this world so to learn that there was a whole bunch more out there was probably a shock.
“Yes,” I answered. “So can you teach me?”
“I guess I could,” said Lilith. “So long as you understand it’ll only be on the road. Once we get to Crystalpeak you’re on your own.”
“I understand. You have your own studies to worry about. Don’t worry about me. The city is magic central. I should have no problem finding another instructor. Even a better one,” I mused.
“Hey,” Lilith whined. “I’m way stronger than most of those pretenders in Crystalpeak. Most can barely modulate their sigils. Besides you’ll never find a teacher as captivating as me,” she finished as she gestured to her ample curves.
I turned away in an attempt to cover up the redness of my face and we started down the road. As we walked, Lilith went over the basics.
“I guess I should start with an explanation of sigils,” Lilith began.
“A mage casts a spell by releasing mana and shaping it into the form of a sigil. A sigil is a magical symbol that structures magic. Different sigils produce different effects, so much of magical learning is dedicated to the memorization of sigils,” said Lilith.
“You said something about modulating sigils,” I commented.
“Yes well, I guess the easiest way is to show you,” said Lilith.
She pulled out of her pack a sharpened coal rod and a blank sheet of parchment. She used the coal rod as a pencil to draw out a pair of symbols. One symbol was just a single blocky character, something in between a Nordic rune and Japanese character. The other was a circular ring of patterns around an empty space in the center.
“Sigils have two components: roots and restraints. This is a root,” she said pointing to the blocky symbol in the center. “While this is a restraint,” she continued indicating the patterned ring.
“A sigil is a composition of a root and any number of restraints. The root decides the type of effect the magic is going to have. While the restraint, as the name suggests, limits and directs the effects of the root. For example, this root creates a small flame and this restraint directs it straight ahead. So, when a mage casts this root encircled by this restraint, it creates a fireball that is hurled forward. All human magic is performed my mixing different roots and restraints. If you instead placed a root generating ice inside this restraint, it would launch a snowball instead of a fireball.”
“Can roots and restraints be used separately?” I asked.
“There always has to be a root because they create the effect. The restraints are technically optional, but without any direction the effect of roots alone tend to be quite limited. Roots and restraints come in all sorts of varieties.” Lilith continued her explanation going into all the different options and effects. She described how multiple restraints and roots could be tied together to produce grand effects.
“What decides how much mana a sigil uses?” I asked.
“Different roots and restraints require different levels of magic and mana. The more components in a sigil the greater the required power,” said Lilith.
“And if the mage doesn’t have enough power?” I asked.
“The magic won’t work and the mage will be drained of all mana,” Lilith explained.
“And you just slowly recover mana when you rest, like stamina?” I figured.
“Yes, but it’s more complicated than that. People regenerate mana by drawing it out from their surrounding environment. Some places have more mana than others. These places are most commonly referred to as ley lines. Ley lines are streams of naturally occurring mana that run near the surface. The closer a mage is to a ley line, the faster their mana regenerates. Crystalpeak is built on the intersection of several ley lines. So many mages congregate there because they can more freely use their magic at Crystalpeak than elsewhere,” said Lilith.
“Is that the only way to regenerate ma
na? In Mill Valley I saw magical devices that ran off of a crystal,” I said.
“There are mana crystals that can be used to power magical artifacts, but the mana crystals can only be made by a mage condensing his mana. And once formed, mana crystals can only be used by artifacts. A mage can’t then reabsorb it,” said Lilith.
“So what do I do to cast,” I said.
“Start with this as the sigil,” advised Lilith pointing at the fire root. “Hold its image in your mind and add mana to it.”
“But how-“
“There isn’t a way to explain,” Lilith interjected, predicting my question before I could ask it. “It’s like trying to explain how to move your arm. You can’t instruct someone how to draw out their mana. Just focus and practice, eventually you’ll find the way.”
“As you focus the sigil in your mind, hold this in front of you,” continued Lilith handing me the scrap of parchment inscribed with the fire root. “Many mages keep images of sigils on hand to help with the visualization process. That’s why many magical staffs have sigils plastered all over them.”
“So I just stare at the sigil and try to activate the magic?” I asked.
“No staring isn’t enough. You must clear your mind and focus the mana in the shape of the sigil. So get started. There is nothing else I can teach you until you learn how to tap into your magic. Don’t be surprised if it takes you a while. I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t have a single successful cast before we reach Crystalpeak and it could be weeks before you can call magic consistently.”
“Okay,” I mumbled as I turned to the sigil bearing parchment. Focus. Focus. I told myself, straining muscles from my face to abdomen, holding my breath as if the motion of air entering and exiting my lungs would disturb the attention required to access a power I had been entirely without just moments before. Instead, after a minute my focus was disrupted by the reptilian part of the brain whose drive to survive overrode all conscious control.
‘And breathe,’ said Mai as I let it all out and started gasping in fresh air. ‘She said focus not brown your pants.’
“Then what do you suggest?” I whispered.
‘Sshhh, as I’ve stated numerous times before, be silent. We can’t risk giving the witch any ideas,’ she warned.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were jealous,” I mocked.
Mai declined to comment, instead going back to my earlier query, ‘The witch is right about one thing there is no way to describe how to tap into your magic. You just do it.’
I gave up my chat with Mai, every word I whispered to her increased the chance of discovery. Lilith and I continued down the road, all the while I continued making strained faces as my eyes burned into the parchment. Lilith enjoyed silent laughter at the various forms my face took and wondering what other times such faces appeared. When the sun neared the horizon, we stopped to set up camp. I hadn’t made any visible progress towards casting magic, but I wasn’t too discouraged. Lilith had indicated it might take a while.
After several weeks journey, Izusa was finally home, or at least back in beastmen territory. The march had been painfully slow, especially considering it’d only been 200 miles. Typically, her company could push 70 miles a day but on this trek the human prisoners they were escorting bogged them down.
It was unfortunate, in Izusa’s mind, that craftsmanship was so underappreciated in Othan society. Their people were a warrior race. All Othans were masters in the arts of tracking, hunting, and battle. Any of the blood who would dare to practice a lesser art were mocked, ridiculed, and ultimately resigned to the lowest rungs of society, only a step above the Fallen. Because of this, nearly all Othan armor and weapons were liberated from other races then modified to serve their shapeshifting forms.
Othans also avoided the magical arts. It wasn’t from societal pressures or a lack of interest but from a lack of any magical ability. Other than their shapeshifting powers that let them transform into a single animal, no Othan possessed even the tiniest amount of magical ability. This didn’t mean they couldn’t take advantage of magic. They occasionally operated stolen magical devices, but without the means to refuel such devices their usefulness was short lived.
However, all these things were changing. For the first time in centuries, they were bringing outright war to their neighbors, enslaving members of the lesser races with useful skills while slaughtering all others.
The Othan encampment was set 15 miles north of the border and 30 miles south of the city of Dewpoint. The camp was organized in the typical beastmen manner. In the camp’s heart was the command tent, the largest tent covered in a patchwork of sewed together fine fur pelts draped over a solid wooden frame. The tent was built to serve as a general meeting place for all the high-ranking officers. The rest of the camp was unorganized; people set up and took down their own lodgings wherever space was available.
“Wait here,” Izusa commanded, bringing her group to a stop just outside the camp. She needed to report in and see what their next instructions were.
Her men nodded in agreement and Izusa moved west, weaving amongst the various burning fires and tents towards the camp’s center. It was the middle of the day. Most of the soldiers were already out running drills. The few who remained were back by their fires cooking a midday meal. The smell of roasting meat made Izusa’s stomach bark, but it wasn’t the time. Duty came first.
Izusa pulled aside the heavy fur canvas covering the command center’s entryway. Inside was Corsel Dragontail flanked by a bullman gensel and a birdman corsel. They were all hunched over a table looking at the large map spread across its surface. The map displayed a part of the southwestern Othan territory and the northern half of Xebrya. A spattering of small figurines representing troop positions sat atop the map. Most of the figures were concentrated at their present location, just north of Monstone Pass, but a few solitary icons were in the northernmost parts of Xebrya and in several of the southernmost cities of the Othal Confederation.
“Capsain Wolfclaw reporting for duty,” announced Izusa placing a fist across her chest in a formal salute. Beastmen tend not to care much for ceremony but in this circumstance, in front of unfamiliar officers of considerably higher rank the salute seemed like the safer bet. From her brief meeting with Corsel Dragontail in the human town, he seemed to be the sort of man who would take umbrage with any sign of disrespect.
“Capsain,” Dragontail answered as he shifted a wolf figurine on the map to join the cluster. “Took a bit longer than anticipated, glad could finally join us.”
“Yes, well the human prisoners slowed us down quite a bit,” Izusa tried to explain.
“We don’t have time for excuses, Capsain. This is Gensel Hoofed, high commander of the entire human war effort,” said Dragontail indicating the man in the bullman armor. “And this is Corsel Eagleeye, the head of our intelligence division.”
“Nice to meet both,” said Izusa. “Just wanted to see what wanted to do with the supplies and human prisoners.”
“Bring the supplies to the logistics division on the northern side of camp,” Dragontail declared. “Will know where to best use. As for the human prisoners, have a small group of men escort to Dewpoint. All the human captives are organized there. Meanwhile, rest of company will begin large scale battle drills. We won’t be operating in some paltry sized groups anymore. We must be prepared.”
“Understand, sir,” Izusa replied.
“As know, our raids have taken an uptick in severity as of late,” Dragontail continued. “Thanks to the efforts of Eagleeye’s scouts we’ve carefully taken out all the frontier settlements isolated enough that the humans won’t realize they’re gone until after the spring thaw. With these training drills and the human craftsmen, by then, we will be properly prepared to take on the humans. Sunrise tomorrow, the southern edge of the camp, be there. For now are dismissed.” Dragontail waved Izusa off dismissively.
Izusa left the command tent and rejoined her men. She directed t
he supplies to the logistics division and ordered her men to set their tents on the eastern edge of the camp. Then she told Bullseye and four others that they’d only be staying the night and in the morning, they’d escort the human prisoners to Dewpoint.
Then Izusa pulled Talia aside. “Need to do something,” she began.
“What is it?” Talia asked.
“While the others are gone, need to relay this note to father.”
Chapter 19: Trap
“Grrrrr, there has to be some secret to this,” I groaned at my umpteenth failed attempt at casting the supposedly simple fire sigil. “There has to be something more you can tell me.”
“No can do,” Lilith replied. “You must learn to access mana on your own. Like moving a muscle, there is no way to explain.”
‘No can do,’ Mai repeated as she appeared beside Lilith and waggled a finger mockingly.
“Not you too,” I grimaced. The last thing I needed was the pair of them double-teaming me. I didn’t have the fortitude to withstand that.
“Too?” Lilith questioned as Mai vanished again from my sight. She had been doing that a lot lately, popping in and out erratically ever since Lilith joined us. It was as if she was trying to reduce the chance that I’d accidently reveal her existence by keeping herself scarce, but every now and then she’d have some joke or comment, usually belittling towards me, and she’d pop up to blab it to the only person capable of hearing her.
“Nothing,” I said, trying to cover up my mistake. “I meant, ‘Not you again.’ You know because you’re always telling me that there’s nothing else I can do.”
“Well, if you want you can try this sigil instead,” Lilith offered, handing me a sheet with another sigil traced on it. “It makes ice instead of fire.”
Arrival Page 19
