CLEO – Between Mossfell and Ashenshore

  The road split into two: one path continuing into Mossfell, and the other hugging close to the village on the way to, presumably, Ashenshore. The well-maintained paved road had long ago turned to deeply rutted dirt when they’d left the main road on their way to Ashenshore.

  As the carrion-glutted birds scattered from their path and from the nearby corpses, Cleo sympathized with the guard who’d first discovered the slaughter and had investigated the town. And she envied the teamsters and merchants, who, unlike the guards and the carded, weren’t likely to be drawn into this mess.

  Being carded, for all its positives, had some drawbacks.

  Neridur, although she was apparently open and affable, wasn’t too forthcoming with information about wands—she either gave vague answers or changed the subject. Cleo grew more and more annoyed, and had the feeling that the Witch Healer thought she either should already know, or it was knowledge that wasn’t easily given away. Perhaps that made sense, given how a wand gave someone an extra edge. Dealing damage without using your own mana was a valuable ability.

  “So, rearguard,” Cleo said. “Cool… I mean good.” She couldn’t help her eyes flicking to the wands at Neridur’s belt. Patience, Cleo. When you get to Lethanas and find out how much your beads and jewelry are worth, then you might be able to afford one. Unless the Institution’s fees bankrupted her.

  “Keep your eyes on the forest, and the tall grass,” Aldrikur said, giving Cleo a stern look. He was overdoing the serious, hardened adventurer act, but she swallowed a quick retort that came to mind and did as he said. After all, there was an entire slaughtered village behind them, and whatever did it was still running loose. Reluctantly, Cleo decided that maybe Aldrikur’s attitude was warranted.

  They walked a few dozen paces behind the last wagon and on the side of the road in order to avoid most of the dust stirred up by the caravan’s passage, and the dung from the plains-elk, ovis, and pack-goats. She definitely didn’t want to get any of that on her new boots.

  “Will do, boss.”

  The Dark-iron Duelist’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her.

  “Err… I wasn’t being facetious.”

  Aldrikur frowned, and his eyes narrowed even further.

  “Flippant,” Cleo said. “Silly.”

  “I know what you meant.”

  Cleo wasn’t so sure, but she merely smiled and nodded.

  All three of them were sweating from the heat and the punishing pace the caravan traveled at. Rivett was taking no chances, and obviously wanted to leave the cursed village behind and reach the safety of Ashenshore as quickly as possible.

  Aldrikur didn’t look tired and maintained a focused concentration on the grasslands and trees that Cleo envied, though his leather armor must be heavy. His sister, the witch, was similar, and she also looked like she could keep up this punishing pace for days. Cleo, on the other hand, decided that she would have to take another half a lozenge soon, since her feet and legs ached horribly.

  Once she could get her lupus symptoms under control somehow, she definitely needed to exercise to improve her fitness. She didn’t think she’d ever be the sword-swinging type, but some strength training wouldn’t go astray either.

  “So, Neridur,” Cleo said to the Witch Healer, who always seemed to be a few paces behind her brother, and between him and the last wagon in the caravan, “you just pump mana into a wand and it charges?”

  Neridur let out an exasperated sigh. “If you want it to possibly break or explode, then yes.”

  Cleo tried another tack. “I know a mage whose wand blasted fire at undead, and they kind of exploded.” Her gorge rose as she remembered the stench of burning flesh and severed limbs. She forced it back down and swallowed. “It wasn’t pleasant.”

  “Ha!” Neridur exclaimed. “That’s a decent wand, from the sounds of it. Crude but effective. When did you fight undead, girl?”

  I’m not an immature girl… but it’s best I keep a low profile and don’t mention the Silent Legion… “In the Blighted Lands.”

  Aldrikur glanced back at her and sniffed. “What were you doing in the Blighted Lands?”

  “None of your business.”

  The Duelist snorted. “No need to be secretive, girl. There’s only a few reasons you’d be in the Blighted Lands. Killing undead for loot and experience, killing goblins for loot and experience, or you’re an idiot and got lost and wandered in there. My guess is it’s the latter.”

  “Now, now, Aldrik,” Neridur said. “It’s more likely she was in a party as support. Isn’t that right, Cleo?”

  She realized they had a good-cop, bad-cop routine going on, but they had no idea that Cleo had watched a great many police tv-series when she was in hospital and sick at home, and she knew exactly what they were trying to do. She decided to pretend she was fairly clueless, as that was the persona she’d been cultivating and it was the one that would keep her uninteresting.

  “Something like that. We Aura Mages are quite in demand, don’t you know?”

  Neridur turned her face away from Cleo, no doubt hiding a smile, while Aldrikur mumbled something under his breath and then went back to scanning the forest and grass.

  “How much further is it?” Cleo asked. Peppering them with questions was a good way to maintain her ignorant fa?ade. Which, when she thought about it, wasn’t actually a fa?ade… “Do either of you know?” She took out the remaining half of a lozenge and began to chew it, grimacing at the disgusting ‘sweaty-boot’ taste.

  Neridur shaded her eyes from the sun. “We’ve been rushing for a few hours, so it won’t be much longer. If you look ahead, you can see the sun glinting off water. That’s the lake Ashenshore is on the edge of.”

  Cleo tilted her head so that the brim of her hat shaded her own eyes, and moved another ten or so paces to the side until she could see around the wagon train, and spotted the sheen of water up ahead. The lake was massive, and she could see a few smaller lakes far to the right of it. She figured this was lake and forest country, and that meant humidity, a lot of rivers and fish, and probably bears. Or whatever the equivalent was here.

  The road curved around a small hill topped with boulders, and as they lost sight of the lead wagons Aldrikur held up a fist and motioned for them to stop.

  “What is it?” Cleo said.

  “Shhh,” Neridur hissed from beside her.

  Aldrikur’s gaze was focused on the trees nearby. The Dark-iron Duelist drew his oddly long sword with his right hand, and she noticed that near the crossguard, the first hand-span or so of the blade had blunt edges. Cleo checked to make sure her auras were active—which they were—and did her best to be ready in case anything eventuated.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  From the forest of trees came the creaking of wood and a splintering sound. An unnatural dread seeped into Cleo’s limbs like icy water. She tried to shake the feeling off as she embraced her mana and prepared herself to cast her curse. Power swept into her, chasing away the cold fear, and she straightened, her aching body and exhaustion all but forgotten.

  There was another loud wooden creak, and a frigid wind roiled over them. A few of the nearby trees shuddered, leaves rustling, and then they exploded outwards as if hit by a mortar shell.

  Frak! thought Cleo, as she was instantly pounded by splinters and chunks of wood and thigh-thick branches, which were buffeted aside by her energy shield. She felt a portion of her shield’s reserved mana drain, and then, as she clutched her arms above her head in a vain attempt to protect herself, a slow trickle as her mana regeneration began to replenish the displaced portion.

  “Well done, girl!” shouted Neridur.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Both the witch and her brother looked surprised that the debris hadn’t injured them.

  Cleo glanced up the road to see the end wagon careening up the road as the plains-elk bolted in terror, the animals screeching in a high-pitched bugling sound. Both wands were in the witch’s hands, as she screamed and sent gouts of lightning at… what the frak was that?!

  A towering, lanky being emerged from the splintered wreckage of the trees. Its slim torso and long limbs were clad in silvery armor, while its face was hidden behind a dull-ash gray mask attached to a misshapen crown, except for two eyes like shiny black coal. At least a dozen twisted, black horns grew on its head instead of hair, and its torso was bent forward as if it couldn’t stand straight. In both hands it held wicked, wavy edged curved swords that trailed a crimson haze.

  Cleo had a sneaking suspicion that those blades had killed the villagers.

  The creature's power surged over Cleo like a wave, causing her to gasp. It stood still, almost unconcerned, as Neridur’s lightning scoured its armor. The witch seemed to realize her wands had no effect, and she backed away as Aldrikur streaked toward the creature.

  Cleo clenched her jaw and began to cast.

  Despair… Despair…

  As Aldrikur slammed into the creature, she layered her curses upon it, and plum-colored mist rose from its body.

  Despair… Despair…

  If she’d thought Kalak was fast, the Dark-iron Duelist was a maniacal blur compared to him. The creature ducked and weaved, its movements almost sluggish and yet smooth and blades always there when it needed to parry Aldrikur’s sword, as the duelist peppered the thing with slashes—sometimes one-handed, others with his leather glove covered left hand gripping the dull-edged base of his blade.

  And then he let out a loud grunt as a lightning-quick kick from the creature sent him sailing through the air to land in a jumbled heap.

  “Aldrik!” Neridur shouted as she scrambled toward her motionless brother.

  Shit… thought Cleo. The witch was going to focus on healing Aldrik, and that left…

  The creature froze, and its head swung around to her, as if it noticed her for the first time or had figured out who was cursing it.

  Oh, double shit… With a thought, Cleo stripped her energy shield from everyone in the party except her, Aldrikur, and Neridur. On the witch and duelist, she left it as the thin covering over them. Come on, she urged herself, you’ve done this before with Rosalia and Kalak.

  Cleo envisioned a hemisphere surrounding her, five paces in diameter, and willed her energy shield to respond. A glowing blue barrier sprang up around her.

  The creature’s coal-black eyes seemed to glow brightly as it took a step in Cleo’s direction. And then it charged.

  The attack was so swift that Cleo was unable to move before the creature was upon her. Twin blades hammered her domed energy shield, which met the assault like a stone wall. Swords trailing crimson haze whirled and pummeled with strike after strike after strike.

  She felt the mana sustaining her shield drop drastically, and what felt, in her mind, like cracks spreading outwards, deep fissures that reached from where the blades met her shield to all the way around her. Dust puffed into the air from the creature’s swirling movements, and the fragments of splintered and crushed trees scattered across the ground.

  Despair… Despair… Despair… cast Cleo, as she clenched her jaw harder and frantically glanced at the witch and duelist. An emerald glow surrounded Neridur, and a wrist-thick rope of the same light extended from her hands and into Aldrikur. The duelist had staggered to his feet, but leaned heavily on his sword.

  No help there, yet… damn it…

  Cleo grimaced as more and more of her mana drained from her energy shield as it absorbed a string of brutal attacks. But already, she wasn’t the same person who’d popped out of nowhere and into the Blighted Lands. She’d already experienced fighting and was harder, and she had friends here now, whose world was in danger.

  She spoke:

  “Retribution.”

  All at once, a portion of her unreserved mana drained, and a vibration filled the air, droning like a swarm of bees or wasps. A wave of indigo void-energy lashed from Cleo and into the creature, as part of the damage her energy shield had absorbed was unleashed in a coruscating torrent.

  The creature twisted and jerked backward, as if slashed by an immense invisible sword blade. But unlike the Silent Legion, whose bones cracked and limbs were severed, the creature weathered her wave of retribution. Shallow grooves gouged into its silvery armor, but not deep enough to score its flesh or bone.

  It backed away a step, and then a few to the side, and tilted its head as if it regarded Cleo as an unwanted and soon to be crushed bug. A low keening came from the creature, the first sound it had made.

  “Curse Strike,” Cleo whispered, triggering her curse’s secondary ability.

  Points of violet light coalesced above the creature. Dazzling beams glimmered as her curses were consumed and altered. The purple glares merged into blinding lights which outlined the creature with scintillating brilliance. Thunder cracked around Cleo as dazzling, vitriolic flares limned the area, dispelling all shadow.

  A screeching wail came from the creature. It backed away, its form hissing and steaming, and its swords no longer trailing crimson.

  Out of nowhere, Aldrikur screamed in rage, and his longsword’s point flashed as he extended into a lunge. His blade cracked the silver armor and sank into the creature’s stomach. The duelist leaped back, even as he twisted his weapon as it came clear.

  The creature howled, then, a terrifying screech drawn from the depths of its throat. It staggered to the side, one hand, still gripping its sword, pressed into the wound gushing dark-purple blood.

  Aldrikur shouted again and jumped forward to stab the creature. He struck an invisible barrier and careened off it, his sword tumbling from his grasp.

  As they looked on, the dark blood flow eased and then stopped, the wound closed as if stitched up by an invisible thread, and the metal armor flowed like mercury until the gash in the metal sealed.

  A crack of thunder rent the air, and a coal-black rift rent reality beside the thing with the sound of tearing cloth. It glared at them, then whirled and lurched into the thickening shadow. And then the rent zippered closed and was gone, leaving a shimmering gloom and a rime of frosted ground in its wake.

  “What the frak was that?” Neridur shouted.

  Cleo slumped to the ground, exhaustion and stress sapping the strength from her limbs. She could taste blood in her mouth where she’d bitten her tongue, like a warning or an omen of things to come.

  And notifications flashed in her vision.

  [Processing experience. Assessing understanding. Assessing stressors.]

  [Calculating.]

  [Tier up requirements met!]

  [Legend card upgraded to F tier!]

  [Aura Guardian card upgraded to F tier!]

  There was a brief golden flash as her skin lit up from within for a moment, and a surge of energy jolted through her body, leaving her tingling and brimming with vigor. The sensation was slightly uncomfortable, and she felt like a great weight pressed on her from every angle, as if she was deep underwater, except it wasn’t a physical one. Cleo felt that, somehow, her inner being, her soul, had become denser.

  What the… finally! Nothing for my skill cards though… and I suppose I haven’t used Hole at all so it’s probably lagging way behind.

  Cleo eyed the splintered trees where the creature had emerged, and decided that it was gone and there must not be any others like it nearby, or they would have seen them already. Plus, Neridur was fussing over her brother again, and both looked unconcerned there might be another attack.

  She quickly made a mental note to use her Hole ability as much as possible in the future, ignored the witch and duelist as they worried over each other, and with a thought her Class Cards’ descriptions appeared in her mind’s eye.

  Legend

  Legendary F tier

  Class/heart card

  +550% mana

  +20% mana regeneration

  +20% mana reservation efficiency

  +1 Dominion

  +1 card slot (hidden)

  Class titles can be customized

  Aura Guardian

  Rare F tier

  Class card

  1st Ability: Energy Shield – 50% of mana reserved – Aura that grants an energy shield to you and allies.

  Supplementary ability: Retribution – 20% of damage absorbed is unleashed as a wave dealing area damage in a circle around the caster. Void damage.

  2nd Ability: Regeneration – 10% of mana reserved – Regenerates mana and health to you and allies.

  3rd Ability: Malice – 40% of mana reserved – adds void damage to all spells and attacks.

  Ahh… a boost in mana and mana regeneration, and mana reservation efficiency at least it was something. She paused for a moment to consider the implications… her overall mana level—thaums—determined the effectiveness of her energy shield, basically how much damage it could absorb; while mana regeneration also governed how quickly her shield recharged… which meant she’d received a significant increase to how well her energy shield performed. Now, it could take more damage and recharge faster.

  But wait a second… what’s a Dominion?!

  She had no idea—not unusual—but it was something she would have to look into, it seemed, along with everything else she didn’t know.

  But what caused her to grin with uncontrolled delight was the upgrade to a 3rd Aura Guardian ability: a new aura, Malice!

  She almost activated it then and there, but at the last instant stopped herself. There was no reason to demonstrate her new ability to Neridur and Aldrikur, and if she was wise, she’d keep it to herself and only use Malice when needed.

  Cleo quickly brought forth her other cards one by one and scanned them for changes just in case, but there were no alterations that she could see—she knew what her card descriptions had said before, she’d gawked at them in wonder often enough their descriptions were etched into her mind.

  When she looked towards the siblings, Neridur had finished healing her brother, and he sat in an exhausted slump, sweat dripping from his chin. She sidled up to Cleo, her brow furrowed, and flicked a glance at Aldrikur.

  “I saw the glow when you tiered up,” the witch said. “Congratulations, I suppose.”

  “Thank you. Just my class card though—” don’t mention you have two… “—my other cards didn’t tier up, is that usual?”

  “You really have no idea, do you? Where are you from, some backwater village where they marry their cousins? Classes tier up first, and they drag up skill cards behind them, but only if you’ve been using them.”

  Which meant it shouldn’t be long before her other cards tiered up!

  “Excellent! Thank you, Neridur.”

  Hopefully there would be another fight soon and… wait… did she really just think that?!

  “Well, instead of a shitty F minus Aura Mage you’re now a shitty F tier Aura Mage from defeating whatever Scourgeling that was.”

  Cleo frowned. “Was it from the Corrupted Scourge?”

  “What the frak else would it be?”

  “We didn’t defeat it, though, did we? It fled.”

  “Listen up girlie, and listen good. You’ve tiered up, and you should be happy with that. We’ll handle questions about what happened here, and deal with the Legion when we’re in Ashenshore.”

  Cleo nodded slowly, sure she was missing something important, but at the same time she couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d tiered up both of her class cards, and she’d come out of it with significant boosts to her mana and power!