Arrival

by William Dickey

  You have ingested a delicious treat.

  For the next three hours you have triple health and mana regeneration.

  Maximum stamina increased by 50%.

  “This food is amazing,” I said. “It even improves your stats.” I was quite impressed with the stat boost. So far I had only come across a few potions that held such an effect and they could only increase a stat or two by 10-15%. A 50% stamina boost, triple health and mana regeneration, I had never seen anything with such a profound effect.

  “Of courze it is delicious,” said Alfred.

  “What time does this place open?” I asked gulping down another slice of sausage. If I ate here every day, it could seriously help me out. The coming days were going to be busy. I had a tournament to prepare for and with food like this, I could work far harder and longer than normal.

  “Ve open mid-afdernoon. Vy? Planning to come back zometime?” he said.

  “With food like this, probably sometime tomorrow,” I answered.

  “I zee I haffe made another fan,” said Albert.

  “Yes,” I conceded. “This is way better than I could have imagined. I kind of feel bad I didn’t come by months ago.”

  I was cutting another slice when my hand slipped. The knife cut across one of my fingers drawing a fair amount of blood.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  “Is it deep?” Albert asked.

  “No, I was complaining about the food. It’s ruined,” I said trying to salvage what I could from the blood.

  Albert had a good laugh at that. “Hang on ein zecond, I’ll get the firsht aid kit.”

  Albert went back to the kitchen for a second and came back with the kit. He cleaned the wound and bandaged it like with an ease that suggested a great deal of experience.

  Bandages applied successfully.

  Wound will heal twice as fast.

  90% less chance of infection.

  “Where did you learn how to do that?” I asked.

  “Army. Bazic Training. I haffe kept up vith it offer the years dough. Accitents in the kitchen, you knov,” said Albert.

  I thanked Albert for the food and promised to return soon. Then I went back to my room at the inn to get started on my real task.

  I took out the artificer tool kit I had just purchased as well as a portable furnace and blacksmith tools. The blacksmith tools hadn’t been a recent acquisition. I had taken them from Kanis’ shop when I had left Mill Valley. In all the hubbub, traveling to the city, dealing with Mai, and learning magic, I had neglected my blacksmith training. Well, no more. It was time to get back to work.

  “Status.”

  Name

  †Isaac N. Stein†

  Level

  33

  Class

  †Otherist†

  Exp

  1259/6550

  Health

  300/300

  Satiety

  85/100

  Stamina

  320/360

  Hydration

  71/100

  Mana

  67/100

  Status

  None

  Vitality

  30

  Strength

  24

  Agility

  30

  Endurance

  36

  Magic

  5

  Dexterity

  30

  Energy

  10

  Defense

  30 (+47)

  Intelligence

  40

  †Skills†

  †Cooking Lvl. 5 (23.9%)†

  †Skinning Lvl. 4 (12.1%)†

  †Blacksmithing Lvl. 15 (29.1%)†

  †Leatherworking Lvl. 4 (13.4%)†

  †Carpentry Lvl. 2 (93.1%)†

  †Otheristry Lvl. 5 (15.2%)†

  †Sigil Mastery Lvl. 4 (5.0%)†

  †Mana Recovery Lvl. 3 (14.8%)†

  †Sewing Lvl. 8 (0.3%)†

  †Artificing Lvl. 7 (62.8%)†

  The morning of the tournament arrived. All the artifacts and other gear I’d cobbled together the past month lay sprawled out on my bed in the inn as I gave my stats and the items I’d crafted one last check before I headed towards the arena.

  “Do you think it will be enough,” I said.

  ‘The tests showed your device worked,’ said Mai. ‘But there’s a big difference between your magic and that of Deimos.’

  “Can’t you say something optimistic in these trying times,” I said.

  ‘Never.’

  Chapter 27: Competition

  You have acquired a new quest: †Path to Glory†

  The Millenius Tournament is a yearly competition in the Crystalpeak to test the valor of the nation’s young generation.

  Difficulty: *****

  Reward: Grand Prize: 100,000§ and 1 item from the city treasury of the victor’s choice.

  Other participants will earn rewards appropriate for their achievement.

  I was nervous. I could feel a tingle in my toes as the enthusiastic roars of the crowd shook the soft sandy ground beneath my feet. I hoped this was why I was worried, stage fright, and not because of the other competitors. Memories of Lilith with the siren and Deimos with me were deeply imbedded in my memory. Magic was a frightening thing, making its users even more so. I had gotten a better handle on my own capabilities, even came up with a few tricks of my own, but against all of magic’s possibility did it matter?

  I was standing at the edge of a large arena along with the other 57 competitors. A battalion of mages created the arena just last week, moving and shaping thousands of tons of earth into a great big bowl encircled by dozens of rings of benches to seat the 100,000 people in attendance. Both a hemispheric iron cage and a dozen sagemeisters separated the audience from the stage to insure fighting couldn’t leave the arena.

  As for my competitors, the contest was open to anyone under 25 years of age but only six of them weren’t mages. Two looked to be hunters. They wore light leather garments and carried small compound bows. They were probably hoping to get through a round or two with a couple quick shots before a mage could cast a sigil. That was the best they could hope to do, in the tournament’s three hundred years of history only mages had ever won.

  The other four were clearly knights with weapons and heavy plate armor that gleamed in the sunlight. Three of them were men. The fourth was a woman.

  “Hey, so you’re in this thing too,” I said, walking up to the armored woman. I couldn’t see her through the helmet and visor but I knew it was Titania, the knight who advised me in the artificer shop. No other woman was that tall.

  “Yes,” Titania replied, giving me an odd look. “Guy from the artifact shop?”

  “So you do remember me,” I said.

  “Of course,” she said. “Attire made it difficult to recognize.”

  “Like it?” I asked.

  I was in a dark heavy trench coat that ran down to the point where the fabric lightly dragged across the ground whenever I walked. Under the coat, I concealed several weapons. Most were store bought artifacts, but a few were of my own creation. They were my aces in the hole, things I’m sure no one could be expecting. Other than the coat, the only thing people could see was a set of grey tinted goggles that only served to prevent any dirt or sand from getting in my eyes. All in all, I looked like a post-apocalyptic desert survivor, ready for anything while revealing nothing.

  “Don’t know who looks more ridiculous,” Titania answered, nodding towards the fifty mages huddled together.

  Rather than armor, the mages were decked out in iridescent finery that would put a peacock to shame. To them this was a special occasion, where the eyes of the city would be upon them, so they spared no expense in the competition for attention.

  “I don’t think you’re much better. Look how shiny that armor is,” I defended myself.

  “It’s shiny because it’s made of silver,” Titania countered.

  “So you went all fancy,
” I said.

  “No, silver can absorb and deflect mana,” Titania explained. “It can’t do much, but it’s something.”

  “Take every advantage you can get,” I agreed.

  †Sense Jeopardy†

  “So the coward finally shows his face,” Deimos sneered as he approached with a couple cronies in tow.

  “Be patient,” I said, pulling out a boom tube from beneath the folds of my coat and threatening him with it. “We’ll fight soon enough.”

  Deimos eyed the grey cylindrical artifact and burst into laughter. His buddies quickly followed suit.

  “Sure, I can’t wait,” chuckled Deimos, as he returned to the mages.

  “See didn’t heed warning,” Titania commented. She referred to the fact that artifacts were useless against a mage.

  “And I told you then not to worry about it,” I said.

  “But-”

  “Shhhh. It’s starting,” I said.

  The Archlord stepped out from his shady alcove just above the arena to address the masses.

  “Today we have gathered to hold this year’s Millenius tournament, a competition to test the nation’s youth in all manner of battle. For those who are unaware, the competitors come from all walks of life, the only restriction being that they are under 25 years of age. Lethal force is of course prohibited, but otherwise all skills and tools are allowed. The competition will be held as a set of single elimination one-on-one matches, continuing until we have a single ultimate victor. As always, along with all the fame and glory victory brings, the winner of the tournament will be allowed a single item from the Crystalpeak treasury, a collection containing loads of rare weapons and unidentifiable artifacts from bygone eras. So with that, I hereby announce the start of the 273rd Annual Millenius Tournament.”

  The Archlord took a seat and the general announcer to his left took over. “Decided by random drawing the first match of the first round is Menardi of the House Vitruvian, a recent graduate of the Academy, completing her mastery of battle magic vs Isaac Stein, the doomsayer and a recent addition to our city.”

  People started laughing at the prospects for the first fight. As the famous herald who warned of the coming beastmen invasion, everyone was familiar with my story. I was one of the arrivals from a manaless world. At best, I could have only practiced magic since I arrived 8 months ago.

  My opponent, Menardi, was someone I was vaguely familiar with. She was one of Deimos’ cronies, the girl with purple hair and glasses. As a recent graduate of the academy, she was a fully qualified battle mage who’d spent years honing her craft. Most of the crowd was certain this fight would be over quick.

  We both took our places on opposite sides of the cage and waited for the signal to start.

  ‘Let me know if you need any help on this one,’ said Mai.

  “Thanks, but I think I can handle this one myself,” I smirked.

  “Surrender now and spare yourself some embarrassment,” said Menardi. “You know you don’t stand a chance against me.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” I replied, reaching for the boom tube beneath my cloak. The grey cylinder was one of the most common artifacts. All the city guards carried them. They were named after the characteristic boom they made when launching a small lightning bolt. The bolt was strong enough to knock someone unconscious but not so powerful to be lethal.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” said Menardi, noting my boom tube and pulling out a violet sigil emblazoned staff in response.

  Another horn sounded, starting the fight. I immediately felt the light waves of nausea that came with the presence of interference magic. I tightened my grip on the boom tube and pointed it towards Menardi.

  The interference was simply ripples of mana being sent out into the world. These ripples supercharged then starved spells and artifacts of mana, rendering them unusable. A skilled mage could counter this by fluctuating the mana he was channeling into his spells in accordance with the interference to negate its effects, but there was no way to do that with an artifact. At least there wasn’t before.

  “Wow, you are an idiot,” said Menardi. “Are you even a mage? Can you not sense my interference? Or are you too thick to even realize-”

  Menardi was cut off by a blast of lightning to her face. She never knew what hit her. Just a wave of my hand and she was done. She had been so confident in her interference magic she hadn’t even bothered with a shield. She collapsed to the ground and that was it. The first match of the tournament was over.

  Everyone watching was stunned. As expected, the fight had been brief, but the result was inverted. The novice using artifacts won. The mages in the audience were shocked the most. They had felt the presence of interference magic. A boom tube shouldn’t have been able to activate. Did the otherworlder find a way to negate interference magic in artifacts? Impossible, the boom tube must have simply been a trick, concealing a true casting underneath. Menardi had been tricked, she was so confident the novice couldn’t be a threat she hadn’t even bothered putting up her shield. It was her mistake not any special talent. A basic lightning spell was something simple enough that even a mage with less than a year of practice could have done it. At least that’s what everyone watching thought. They would all be wrong.

  I called it the MIC, mana interference canceller. It was an artifact, imbedded in my chest plate, designed to negate interference.

  The MIC worked on the same principle as noise cancelling headphones. It detected the incoming mana fluctuations and produced a counter wave to negate their effects. So long as they remained within a few feet of the MIC, artifacts were capable of operating normally regardless of interference.

  ‘Well, that was quick,’ said Mai.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “But that was always going to be the case. She didn’t even bother defending herself. I doubt the rest of my opponents will be the same.”

  ‘Who’s the pessimist now,’ said Mai, getting me back for earlier.

  “There’s a fine line between pessimism and realism,” I said.

  ‘And there’s a fine line between being a liar and a hypocrite,’ Mai countered.

  After the fight, I was led back out of the gate I’d entered and past my other competitors. Their faces were a mix of concern and disbelief. It was a nice start. Menardi was still unconscious so a couple tournament overseers had to carry her out. They were on a schedule after all. Each match eliminated a single competitor. This year there was 58 competitors, so 1 match down 56 to go. Even if each match only lasted a few minutes, that meant hours of battle. The tournament would take all day.

  The early rounds went by quickly. In his matches, Deimos proved he had his reputation for a reason. In each bout, he was quick and efficient, only using one or two spells to dispatch his opponents. Efficiency was important. With so little time between matches, no one was able to recover completely in between. As the rounds went on, most of the mages showed signs of fatigue, but Deimos never did.

  My own matches went as planned. No one made the same mistake as Menardi. They all kept up a shield. Without interference magic, my fights all devolved into a slugfest. We just exchanged blasts of magic. In some ways, my artifacts still put me at a disadvantage. They lacked the flexibility of proper magic so all the bolts from my boom tube or fireballs from my fire stick traveled at a predictable speed and path. This let my opponents only raise a smaller point shield to defend rather than a complete surrounding one like the one I had. Essentially, my opponents could be more efficient with their mana.

  On the other hand, my efficiency didn’t really matter. Artifacts ran off mana crystals and I had an inventory full of them. Whenever one of my artifacts ran low on juice I popped the old one out and popped in a replacement. I wasted a lot of mana, but I had a hundred times more than everyone else to begin with.

  My basic strategy was to hit until my opponent couldn’t block anymore. My fights went longer than most. My early opponents tried to conserve power for the later rounds so they took things slo
w, poking and prodding, trying to find a hole in my defenses. Anyone who tried to do this ultimately failed, I wore them out and won. The smart ones caught on to my strategy and took a different tactic. Rather than try to find a hole in my defenses, they tried to overwhelm them. They threw everything they had at once. With enough power any shield would break. Fortunately, the shield was one artifact I splurged on and it wouldn’t fall easily.

  After a long day of fighting, the tournament was finally nearing its conclusion. I’d already qualified for the final and watched from the sidelines, as my opponent was decided. The match was between Titania and Deimos.

  Titania was nearly as much a dark horse in this tournament as I was. Knights rarely got far in the competition, sword and shield being a poor match to magic, but Titania was the exception. In match after match, she showed stunning strength and endurance, forcing her was through all form of magic to bash her opponent with her blade.

  Even though she was aided by the mana absorption effects of silver-plated sword and armor, this was no different than any knight in the competition. Yet none of the others had come nearly this far. In fact, it had been over a decade since any knight made it to the semi-finals.

  Their names were called, signaling Titania and Deimos to enter the arena. The cheers of the crowd quieted down to excited whispers as people discussed the unusual matchup. On one side, there was the proud noble son of Crystalpeak fully decked out in resplendent emerald robes and a two-foot pompadour, completely unmarred by his previous matches. On the other side was Titania, her once iridescent gear covered in dents, scratches, and soot from numerous hard fights so recently waged.

  ‘David vs. Goliath?’ Mai suggested.

  “Maybe, but I thought David was supposed to be smaller than Goliath,” I said.

  The horn sounded and both immediately acted. Deimos launched an oversized fireball to which Titania casually swept her broadsword, cleaving the fireball in two as she charged forward.