“Someone get the Spell Warden! He’ll set this right!” Yelled one of the handfuls of elves who were just arriving on the scene. I saw a few of the more fleet elves take off in different directions trying to find whoever this Spell Warden was.
I kept up my steady barrage of attacks, aiming them so if they broke through the barrier they wouldn’t hit anyone lethally. After the third or fourth bolt did virtually nothing, I tried changing the shape of the bolts, modeling them into different augmentations, but I was just too weak. I even gained skill levels in Force magic, but it seemed to do nothing.
“Congratulations! You have leveled up your skill Force Magic. Current rank, 2.
Congratulations! You have leveled up your skill Force Magic. Current rank, 3.
Congratulations! You have leveled up your skill Force Magic. Current rank, 4.
Congratulations! You have leveled up your skill Force Magic. Current rank, 5.”
The cheerful female voice who read them aloud in my mind was silenced as quickly as I could mentally give the command. After the second notification, my mute setting having reset some time ago, I set them to auto-minimize with a frustrated thought.
The murderous ex-lover picked the woman I had taken to thinking of as the fire marshal up and pushed her against the tree his bubble spell encased them beside, and I got my first good clean look at her since the altercation began. She was spitting up blood, she couldn’t stand on her own, and she was holding her arms around her abdomen as if trying to keep her shattered ribs in place.
The handful of elves around the barrier shouted at him, attempted to distract him, promised to help him fix this, told him he hadn’t gone too far that he could turn back now and everything would be okay. What they were trying to do was admirable I knew somewhere back in my mind, but anger had outstripped purely rational thought.
All I could think to do was hurt him. Taunt him, say things that would force him to turn and face me if he found me such a threat. But I knew better. I was the subject of this man's mad rage. If I were to taunt him, or even talk with him, he might escalate and kill her. I had seen it before, during the doldrums suicide had been the largest killer, but spousal abuse and murder-suicide were also major concerns. I have seen more than one man taunted into first killing his family, and then himself by online bullies, trolls, and bastards.
I was growing far more frustrated and angry then was good for the situation. I needed to bring it to a close and quickly. “Everyone get back from the barrier!” After everyone moved away, I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I reopened them I saw the world in red. I reached my hand out, pointing at the barrier at an angle that wouldn’t hit anyone, about the same spot I had been shooting with my force bolts. The elves, seeing what I was about to do, all ran out of the line of fire, and I let loose.
The torrent of flame that leapt from my finger struck the shield. I poured my mana into the fire and it continued. After nearly a minute of casting, the clearing began to reek of brimstone. After a few more seconds the spell shield flickered, and then broke. Just before It did I released the spell. I looked at my mana pool, it read 21,90/44,671. I was only about halfway to empty. Where did that mana pool come from! I stood there shocked for a moment, as Ailsa charged in.
Shaking myself back to the situation I was in, I walked through the fire, which didn’t seem to bother me. The man was cringing away from the heat of my flames, huddling at the base of the tree. “Come here you little piece of crap!” I said as I grabbed and dragged him around the still-burning coals. It took me a few seconds to drag him to the other elves, but when I did they met him with thick rope and a gag.
Once that was done and his crazy ass was arrested by a half dozen concerned citizens, I turned and saw Ailsa casting healing spells frantically, though not as fast as I had seen her cast on me before and that gave me some hope.
I joined in and added my meager Cure Light Wounds to the mix, but it did little. I laid the fire warden on her back from where she had fallen over, and that allowed Ailsa’s magic to push her ribs and organs back into their proper places with sickening sounds. The woman let out a bone-chilling scream that sent chills up my spine, before going silent. “She's fainted from the pain again.” Was all Ailsa could say as she concentrated on her work.
“The Spell Warden is here!” Shouted someone from the back of the crowd who where still beating on and wrestling with the offender. The crowd parted, and the man stood all by himself, standing between the pool of fire that was still burning itself out that I had just dragged him past kicking and screaming, and an elf that exuded menace and the threat of violence. If I were him, I would take the fire, I thought. That guy is almost as scary as Tol’geth!
The high elf just kneeled and blubbered instead, crying and saying some nonsense that sounded like an attempted justification. I didn’t much care about the specifics. I looked back over at Ailsa, and she was starting to flounder. I stepped closer and put my arm on her back, I didn’t know if this would work, but it was worth a shot.
I willed my mana to be at her disposal, and she gasped as I did. I gasped, as an alien mind touched mine through a small tether that connected us both to deep pools of, power?
Is that you meathead? Did you just give me access to your mana?
Yup, sure did. Don’t want you passing out on me again. We have somewhere to be tomorrow morning!
Alright fine, I just hope you have a large enough mana pool to make this… Holy freaking toledo, how did that happen?!
First, you really have got to stop watching That Seventies Show, you’re picking up all their bad lingo. Second, I have no idea, but I plan on looking through the math as soon as we get done with this. Now, do you want the giant pool of mana to play with? Or not?
Yeah, sure, alright fine. Cool. Just stop talking.
I did as instructed, and I felt a massive pull on my mana pool as Ailsa accessed it and drank deeply of the energy there to fuel her healing spells. I watched as the woman's heart was both healed, and the bone that had pierced it was moved and then fused back directly onto what remained of her intact rib cage.
The other ribs, one by one, were moved back into position and fused. Then the internal organs they punctured, the lower intestine, both lungs, though the left one was punctured twice by different bones, and then finally an organ I didn’t know the purpose of, but apparently went directly between the lungs just on top of the first stomach chamber, where all healed as if new.
An interesting thing I learned while watching Ailsa work was that elves have three chambers to their stomachs. Each one of those had a bone fragment sticking out of it in some way and had to be carefully healed to avoid contaminating other parts of the body.
Lastly, once the body was structurally sound and the organs were held in the right places and healed, the only thing to do was to attempt to ease the bruising. That was by far the most tricky, though less power consuming portion of the process.
Once Aila was finished with one particularly difficult ruptured ventricle, she told me I could let go, and I did. I immediately looked at my mana, 38 / 44,671. I felt as drained as emotionally and intellectually as my mana pool, and I began to stumble away only to realize it was pitch blackout, the fire had gone out, the crowd had gone home. Save for a handful of people who looked on, and the scary auraed man who was the “Spell Warden” the clearing was empty.
I stumbled in the dark, staff in hand doing little to no good to help steady men, and the spell warden caught me. “Don’t worry, I got you.” He said in a deep growling voice, that sounded like an avalanche of rock and snow. He lifted me up back to my feet, and set me straight, and then let me lean on him while I got feeling back in my feet. “You shouldn’t have locked your knees. Rookie mistake of long term spellcasting.”
“That and choir.” I quipped back, I was so tired I didn’t really have a filter anymore. “You’re scary you now that? You put off this vibe dude, a really scary, I’m going to beat you with your own dismembered limb, kind of
vibe.” To my surprise the man laughed. It sounded like the laughter of wolves in the middle of a hunt as its prey tries to hide from them in the den. Which didn’t really help with the whole “I’m going to rip off your leg and beat you to death” vibe. “I only know one guy who's scarier.”
“Tol’geth?” The man asked knowingly, and I nodded.
“Exactly. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” I said as blood returned to my legs and the feeling of stabbing knives crescendoed quickly. I honestly rarely swear, and when I do it's usually when I'm really tired, really pissed off, or very surprised.
“You and she,” The Spell Warden said pointing at Ailsa. “Have done a kind thing this day. I and my people find ourselves in your debt once again.” I bowed or rather tried to while still leaning on him for support, my legs were still numb.
“I am in your people's debt. Thanks to them, I now actually have a chance to do what I came here to do.” And possibly get home. “Help me over there, we can wait for Ailsa to finish while we talk,” I said pointing to a small trio of boulders that seemed to ring a particularly beautiful tree with white bark, that was slowly losing its pink blossom flowers as it prepared to hibernate for the winter.
I sat on the rock with a sigh after the Spellwarden helped me hop over. The Spellwarden sat next to me as we watched Ailsa finish her work. Now that I had sat down and had the opportunity to really appreciate the seemingly random trees leaves and pink blossoms, the spot felt almost sacred.
Like walking into an empty church late at night, with the moon and starlight cascading through the stained glass windows. I often got the same feeling when looking at a pristinely quiet forest clearing, or a crystal clear and perfectly still pond. Instinctively you know to be reverent, you know that it's a place of peace and stillness, even if you don’t agree with the sermons being preached there during the day.
My attention turned to what Ailsa was doing as we sat there. The bruising along the woman's face and arms seemed to lessen. The bruising we could see on her midriff where her green and gold tunic with the red stripe down its center had been ripped and torn, was receiving as well. Lightning even as the moon began to shine more brightly overhead.
“So, what's your name, and what exactly is a Spell Warden?” I asked, too tired to banter back and forth as the elves liked to do.
He chuckled “Humans, Wizards in particular. Always so straight forward, cutting right to the heart of the matter. I suppose it only makes sense with how short your lives are.”
“Look, I don’t mean to be rude. But I'm exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and magically. I have a very important day tomorrow, and I would really like to get to bed before I have to leave in the morning. Is it alright if we skip the banter and get right to the heart of it? As you say?”
The man nodded “Fair enough. My name is Sin’tell. I am the Spellwarden of all of the Lo’sar colony.” He said it as if it were a single word, not two different words as I had been thinking of it. “A Spellwarden is an elf who is particularly gifted at magical nullification or the mana manipulation arts of unraveling spells.” Sin’tell looked back at the woman, then over to the man who had started all of this. He was tied up and gagged next to another tree a few feet away. Unconscious, sleeping, or dead, I couldn’t tell.
“They also have to be pretty skilled with a blade, fair and even-handed, and brutally forceful if needed. They are also expected to know when and how to employ that brute force, and when not to.”
“So, you're the magical law-man of Lo’sar?” Sin’tell only nodded sadly at the thought. “Fair enough. I take it you’re not really popular with the rest of the elves of the colony.”
“How did you come to that conclusion, wizard?” He asked, smirking sadly.
“Well, first of all, I haven't met you yet. And I’ve damned well met nearly everyone in this blasted colony, at least in passing. Which means you where probably not at the celebrations yesterday, or the ceremony this morning. This means one of two things, either you where on assignment somewhere, or you are a social pariah. Given the disposition of these elves, and their distinct lack of ubiquitous martial prowess among even their leadership” I said thinking of the drunken catfight between Elmer Keeb’larch, and Lisander. “That more than likely takes a long term assignment off the table. I doubt any of this bunch” I motioned to the city as a whole. “Would cause you much trouble.”
He nodded and smiled slightly as I raised a finger as if giving a lecture to no one in particular. “If you remove the impossible, then whatever is left, no matter how improbable, is the truth.” I motioned towards him “Social pariah.”
“Wise words, even by wizard standards. And correct.”
“Don’t be impressed, I stole it from a book I read one time.”
“That means even more. It means you read a book or two, and that you have the humility to recognize the correctness in another's words. A rare trait among elves, though perhaps less so among the Wizards that populate our lore.”
I looked back at Ailsa, her work was nearly finished. “Is there anything you need from me about this situation? A testimony, or deposition of some kind?” I asked hoping that he wouldn’t need any of that. He shook his head and relief filled my aching body.
“This was a clear cut case of jealousy run amok. A common enough ailment among my people, but one that most of my kind have the social graces to at least hide. This kind of raw and public barbarity is rare, especially here among the Green-Elves.” The older elf shook his head sadly. As he did, I noticed the beginnings of grey in his hair that clearly reflected the silver light of the moons above us.
“The young man has already confessed to his crime, and seeks redemption even now from the council.” I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything about how the guy needed to be boiled in hot tar, the Spellwarden cut me off.
“Do not worry, he will be punished for his crimes, rest assured. The council will simply seek to ensure that his punishments are designed in such a way as to both properly convey our displeasure and lack of tolerance for such poor behavior, and to change his behavior to better fit within society. This will involve healing for both parties, the victim, and the perpetrator. I know many human laws involve the chopping off of valuable body parts, but elves have more…” He paused as if looking for the right words. “... delicate sensibilities, particularly the peace-loving creatures of Lo’sar.
Ailsa finished her work and drifted over to me, as the woman, still nameless to me, curled up contentedly in the grass under her. I stood up, shook the Spellwardens hand and gestured towards the woman hopefully, not knowing if I had the strength to do anything but curl up beside her on the invitingly cool looking grass. “I will make sure she gets home safely.” The Spellwarden really smiled then shaking his head a little as he did.
“You have done many works of both good and ill for the forest today.” The Spellwarden looked at the burnt patch of green grass, that was already turning into mud puddles as dewdrops formed all over the forest. “Though the balance, as is almost always with Wizards, is far in the greater for the good. Mayhap, in the long run, all these things shall be for the forests good.” He said sadly looking at first the nearly burnt patch, and then the field coals visible from where we stood.
“Ah, yes the…” I hesitated for a moment. “... Product, of my earlier religious devotions.” I winced slightly. They were all more gestures of gratitude, really, I thought trying to justify it to myself. “Sorry about that.” The Spellwarden shrugged his shoulders, a distinctly human gesture that felt out of place here among the otherwise serene and at times seemingly bipolar elves of Lo’sar.
“Oh yes, we’re all aware. That little glade you lit on fire was a rather popular mediation spot.” I visibly winced. “Don’t worry, the Green elves are very forgiving of foreigners. Give it a few weeks and the coals will be broken up into fertile soil for new flowers.
“You humans are a form of destruction that paves the way for far greater things
to come. Or so teaches Tyre’lin. She likes you all, you know. One of the few Elven Gods in the High Patheon who does. She is also one of the few that is worshiped just as faithfully by the Green as by the High elves. So, you have won many hearts by making that small prayer pool.”
“Oh? Prayer pool?”
“Yes, a prayer pool. Tyre’lin does not like typical shrines, instead, she prefers small clear still bonds or fountains with small water fixtures that people can deposit coins into. In High elven lands, it's a common practice to put one such pool in front of every home and to deposit a coin before you enter the home so you are a bringer of good luck to whomever you are visiting. So, by giving us one directly next too what many believe will become one of the most wondrous mediation glades in all of the forest, you have earned the affection of many an elf.”
“That's good to hear,” I said, not really knowing what to say to the fact that I accidentally just created a shrine to another God I had not even met yet. Is this going to be a regular thing with these people? I thought to more than just myself. If it is, it's not my fault. Remember, you sent me here. I went quiet for a few seconds, fighting sleep as I stood there, leaning on my staff trying to keep my feet.
Shaking myself awake, I couldn’t remember what we had been talking about, best make my escape now while I can. “I have a request before I go, can you tell me her name? I have interacted with her in three ways today, first as a patient, then as perpetrator, though an accidental one.” I said hastily at a glare from the magical lawman. “And then, now, as… uh… a deputy?” I could tell he was fighting an eye roll. “And yet” I soldiered on “in all those interactions I never learned her name.”
The man laughed quietly, shoulders shaking for a good few seconds before he spoke again. “Her name is Telli’mier, she is the mother of the young child Telli, she is my daughter and my apprentice.”
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