[Hlaeth] Ch 9

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Holding that Note effortlessly, I guided her into the realm of her ancestral heritage, all those elves before her who’d touched mana in all ways, and who could guide her and help her on her own path of understanding and comprehension of this wonder of the world.

            Like using the magic thus and so.

            Slowly I drew her back out, hearing her call out names of people she recognized, and then we were out, power was swirling in her Matrix that had not been there a moment before, and I let the conduits of arcane energy fade away as I retreated from awareness of her Matrix and let her go.

            Her face was wet with tears as she looked at me in wonder and awe. “I-I saw my great-grandparents. They entered the cycle when I was a child…” she gasped at me.

            “When you wish to learn new spells, you’ll re-enter your ancestry to ask them for advice and guidance on how to proceed, Captain.” I told her gently, and waited until she nodded slowly to continue. “How your people manipulate magic is different from how mine do. You are much more in harmony with magic than we are, and so there are subtleties to your Casting that do not exist in the human style of the same. I could guide the choice of your first spells, but I could not teach you how to Cast them, if that makes sense.

            “As your soul grows stronger and your Matrix grows with it, you will find yourself able to Cast more spells and learn new ones, much as you slowly grew in power with your spells as a Ranger over time. The process is different as a Sorceress, and I am sure you can feel and see the differences between both the types of magic and the types of spells even now.”

            Her emerald eyes were focused inside her as she clutched at the chair excitedly. “Yes, yes I can feel the differences! Can, can they be used together?” she asked quickly.

            “Yes, but that is an advanced discipline, called Elemental Theurgy, and you are a beginner.” I impolitely reached out and tweaked her nose. “I think you know that junior students need to get good at the basics before attempting the expert, and not even think about the advanced until they grow up.”

            She blushed verdant on the tips of her ears, a truly cute sight. “Yes, Magos Aelryinth,” she agreed, fighting to regain some of her professionalism. “I will take note of that.”

            “Good. There is no reason to go slow, as such things go.” Load lowered to the ground, and she hopped off smoothly, reclaiming her weapons deftly and putting them back on. “You are already disciplined and have some training in general magical principles that apply to all spells, so your skill will increase quickly if you want it to, and if you practice.” I held up a hand. “The main rule of thumb is practice, practice, practice. Every day you should use your magic, spend it, wield it, practice with it, shape it.

            “With your years and wisdom, you will eventually become a powerful Sorceress, even if you are lucky enough not to have to wield your powers in conflict.”

            “Will I be as powerful as you?” she asked slyly, aware she could get away with the question.

            I sighed as I tilted my head to the sky. “Do you want to know how I became as powerful as I am?” I asked her.

            Something in my voice made her wary, and the other elves listening in heard it, too. “I… this does not sound like something done by merely Casting spells.”

            “I became this powerful because I needed to be this powerful. Consider the kinds and numbers of things I would be facing to need to be as strong as I am.”

            Even Commander Tellusian, about to say something, fell silent at that. Their eyes drifted out to the empty fields around us, rolling hills and craters covered by green, in the heart of an elder forest.

            I had stopped the force which had done this, and I had reduced all this dead forest to a green plain in less than a day.

            “I...I would like to know!” she finally said, lifting her chin and looking me in the eyes.

            I set Mortus Dius in front of me, and let go so he could stand alone. His laenwork glittered dully in the soft light, the Runes within him making his interior appear smokey and clouded, when in truth he was so crammed with Runework refracting the light it simply distorted his utter clarity and perfection.

            “My Staff is mnecromonic. Anyone can grasp it and see what I have slain with it,” I said quietly. “If you want to see how I got where I am, open your mind, do not fight it, and grasp my Staff.”

            Their eyes fell on my Staff, and suddenly all of them shuddered. The light seemed to dim, and a heavy weight fell on their souls as something fell away, something that had been concealed from them.

            The golden dragon behind them coughed and reared up alertly, gem-like eyes of verdant emerald looking at my Staff in wonder and horror mixed.

            Captain Fyanyl swallowed as she stared at it, trembling slightly. To her credit, she did not back away, taking a deep breath and calming herself, readying herself, even looking once at me and remembering the touch of my mind and spirit as I guided her through her Awakening.

            She reached out her right hand, and firmly grasped Mortus Dius.

            Her harsh gasp was instantaneous. Her already wide eyes bulged as she saw where I had been, what I had done… and all the things I had killed.

            Millions and millions of things that I had killed...

            Undead and Fiends dominated everything else, especially recently. But dragons flared violent and bright and malevolent in there, Cultivators cloaked in falsehood, humanoids of multiple species invading in their numbers (including elves caring only for the hunt and kill).

            Most recently, the orcs I had killed coming here. Yes, the death toll from the feedback of their Portal collapsing had been seven digits in size...

            Silver sprouted at her temples as she staggered and fell, staring but not letting go. There was a lot to view, and even at the speed of induced memory, this was neither a slow nor gentle process. The other elves whispered at this, drawing back instinctively at the sign of preliminary aging and stress.

            She finally bowed her head and let go of Mortus Dius, kneeling there in the grass. My Staff glided back to my hand, and I just looked at her.

            “How many orcs and… other things with them, did you kill before they could come here?” she whispered, not looking up.

            Indirect or no, the Spellflare had been directly responsible for their death, instigating the Dimensional Inversion on their end and eating them all with vivus. The psychomantic signature was full, recent, and a lot of very powerful orcs had perished in fear and horror… along with the rather distinctive presences of things that were not orcs, and even more powerful.

            “Looks like 4,323,514 separate sapient beings,” I answered her, after a glance at the numbers of the dead. “All of them going Down.”

            “Yes. I could feel their very spirits as they died, and I cannot say they did not earn their deaths…” she agreed, nodding slowly and looking up at me. “That was horrifying to see, Magos Aelryinth.”

            I inclined my head slightly. “It would be more horrifying if they had lived to do what they intended to do,” I responded grimly.

            “Why do you burden yourself with such a thing? Do you not remember them every time you lay hand to your Staff?” she protested, staring at me now in disbelief.

            My answer to that was a hard smile. “Captain Fyanyl, when I lay my hand to my Staff, I witness everything I have killed. I know that I killed them before, and I know that I can kill them again, and I know that they deserved to die and I did the right thing in sending them on to their fates. I also know that there are far, far more where they came from, that they are a tide that will never stop, and someone has to stand before them and do this deed.” I slowly leaned into my Staff, and the ruby Orb atop it glowed gently as it touched my forehead. “I gain strength from my Staff when I hold it, not fear, not terror. I know I have killed multitudes, and if I have to kill multitudes again, I need only look at the past and know I can do the deed once again, twice again, as many times as is needed, again and again and again...”

            The elves there all shuddered at the cold, cold edge of death dancing on the end of my words. I had killed oh, so many things, and now, they could feel those deaths hanging on me and around me, and they knew they had never, ever seen anything like me.

            “MAGOS.” I turned my head as the golden dragon stepped closer, emerald eyes gleaming. “I WOULD BEHOLD THE HORRORS OF YOUR STAFF.”

            There was not the slightest hesitation as I let Mortus Dius go, and he flashed over in front of the dragon, floating there with an air of absolute power and confidence. Somehow, the ancient dragon seemed small before him, shrinking before him without moving.

            The dragon’s tail twitched despite all his attempts at discipline, and he reached up with one great taloned claw to grasp the Staff basically daring him to grab him.

            The first inhalation was monumental, fires igniting in the belly of the golden dragon on pure reflex at what he was seeing. They began to billow out of his nostrils, then his jaws, building into a furnace, and even as the elves scattered, the dragon tilted his head back roared like thunder into the skies, spewing out a long and ferocious blast of dragon’s breath that blew upwards for quite some distance… and duration.

            When he was done and released Mortus Dius, his much-too-long blaze of flaming breath faded away, and his head dipped down, almost touching the ground.

            “Truly the glaus nûrg mönt,” the dragon whispered, before turning and almost slinking away.

            The elves looked at me, back at the retreating dragon, and wondered what was going on.

            White Death King didn’t apply just to the dragons I’d killed, although it was dragons who had given it to me for killing so many of their own.

            What was a dragon before some of the things I had killed? Only Fyanyl didn’t look confused and frightened at the implications. The raw numbers of Evil and the threat level of some of that Evil dwarfed that dragon… and I had killed dragons stronger than him.

            Multiple dragons!

            If they weren’t of the same bloodline, they were still dragons, and I had butchered so many of them on general principle.

            And Oni Demon Lords, Gargovian Mothers, and a Death Titan Demilich, too!

            “We can go see your High Mages now…”

---------

            The first thing I realized coming in on the new arrivals was that the High Mages were definitely Legendary in power.

            Post-Twenties.

            I could feel it on the mana field here, they way it was bending around them, even unconsciously. They were incredibly harmonized and in sync with the flow of magic, to the extent their magical presence was alternately overwhelming everything else around them, or vanishing entirely into the background if your senses weren’t developed enough.

            I thought it was pretty interesting as an opportunity. I doubted they’d see me as an equal, and given they were probably a thousand years old each, judging by what I was reading in the manafield, totally understandable. If I was an elf, I’d not even be considered an adult, let alone an equal.

            The flip side of that was pure power. These mages had built on the Tower, not the Pyramid. There was no Depth or Width to any of them.

            A telling sign of the Class System here? Was an elf who deviated from pure Classing more limited than those who stayed true to one? It wouldn’t be the first time I saw such a thing, as it was definitely true for Dragon Warriors. Using competing energies and skills limited how many paths of chi you could follow.

            Of course, my own road of Theurgy definitely put the lie to pure magical Classing, but I had no proof that such a road was viable or ‘better’ here, or even how the Theurgy Classes manifested themselves.

            I wondered how well they could sense me. If I wasn’t Singing, my effect on the weave of the mana field was basically non-existent. My Astral Ward was at IX+1, which trumped up to 11th level spells trying to find out anything about me magically. Until I Cast, they weren’t going to be able to discern anything magical about me.

            I still made an entrance, coming in while standing atop Feature, who basically hugged the ground as a normal flier or dragon totally could not do so, sinuous and dangerous in jet and silver, and certainly like no dragon they’d ever seen.

            The accompanying dragons and griffons flew overhead, keeping a respectful distance so as not to loom over the dragon of the very powerful spellcaster. Commander Tellusian’s gold dragon keeping behind and to the flank of Feature without being told.

            They’d erecting a stone wall around the area, partitioned it off, and set up cones bearing runework that was supporting some kind of spell formation that was twinging the manafield, some kind of enhanced sensory dweomer at work.

            I eyed the Formation, idly memorizing it even as I realized I didn’t understand the principles it was working on. I might or might not have been able to duplicate it, although I had my suspicions it was twinked to work on this island with its unique elf-affected manafield, and in other places would be changed.

            Without knowing the principles underneath, no way to know, and unimportant except as a future reference.

            Still, it was my first sight of Legendary magic that didn’t come from the Archmage himself…

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