Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3)

by Brian Wilkerson

  In terms of his hunger, Eric could survive on mana. His teammates and Professor Haburt testified that he lived on “the dew of the universe” while in Ceiha thanks to the enlightenment he experienced inside Dengel’s Lair. After nine days without eating anything, Nolien took photographs of Eric’s emaciated body because, as a healer, he couldn’t believe it. Thus, there was no fear of him feeding his fellow sapients, nor was there any fear of sexual assault.

  Eric was not sexually interested in his fellow sapients. They scientifically measured his state of arousal to women (and men for good measure) and confirmed this to be the case. They even hired a prostitute to seduce him. He yawned and said, “I’m not interested in a long string of pussy jokes. Besides, you might have anthrax.” Talbot chuckled a bit at that but then covered it with a cough. The only times Eric experienced a heightened state of sexual arousal was when Kallen herself was involved.

  “Really?” Talbot asked.

  Kallen flipped her hair. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

  To further strength their argument, she brought up her own record of good behavior. Since the Siduban Chaos Explosion, the only things she had killed were monsters and rogues. Aside from the “Ice Cream Incident,” she had a clean criminal history. Her mutation was more severe because she was mutated by genuine chaotic energy, while Eric’s mutation was in a lesser Fog cloud. If she could do it, then so could Eric.

  For a sixth point, Tasio appeared.

  “If he causes any trouble, you can blame it on me because I’ll be the one truly responsible.”

  Talbot was silent for sixty seconds.

  “You all make good points, especially him,” he pointed to Tasio, who beamed. “Frankly, I’ve been considering his release for some time now. The costs of keeping him here are adding up and he’s been behaving well since the Radio Incident. The general public is pressing for his freedom as well. Ever since the Winter Blaze Festival, mana mutation advocates have been demanding his release. The only thing that concerns me is that Eric has not demonstrated full control in his full grendel form.”

  “Then I won’t take my full grendel form. I don’t like it any more than you do.”

  Talbot nodded. He did the paperwork and notified the ICDMM council. With his recommendation, along with that of the leading scientists and department heads, they approved Eric’s release. Talbot himself handed him a photocopy of the certificate. Eric grasped it and shouted for joy in his grendel voice. Then he ran to the teleportation room.

  As soon as he arrived, the guard turned him away. He showed his certificate and politely asked him to stand aside. Talbot, standing behind Eric, gave the guard the nod. Eric passed and the teleport arch started up. Never had he been so happy to vomit from teleportation sickness.

  Aside from those trickling to or from pubs, the streets of Roalt were empty. The ground was slick and the air was frigid. Snow had fallen in earnest and it blanketed both the streets and the rooftops. Torch Day, the major winter holiday in Ataidar, was coming. At that time, every street and roof would be decorated in Fire’s motifs. Until then, the streets were barren.

  Eric raced out of Scholar Town and passed the statues marking the entrance to Royal Town. His goal was the castle.

  Kas, I’ve been released from the ICDMM containment wing and I’m on my way to see you. Will the guards give me trouble?

  Yes.

  He stopped. That wasn’t what he expected, neither in word nor in tone. It was awfully cold and borderline hostile.

  Say again?

  I am queen and I cannot have male visitors at this hour, and certainly not mercenary monsters. Not at any hour are those things appropriate.

  Kas? What’s wrong?

  Do NOT address me with so familiar a name! I am Queen Kasile Landros Ataidar VII, but you must address me as “Your Majesty.”

  Sirens went off in Eric’s mind. Something was wrong. If his Kas wanted him to call her “Your Majesty,” then something was seriously wrong indeed.

  Is Lunas there with you?

  Did you not hear me about “male visitors at this hour”? Has mutation compromised your memory? Lunas is not in my room and giving me advice at this very moment. Such a thing would not be proper. Go back to your lair, Grendel!

  If the streets weren't deserted before, they were now. Eric emitted a low-level killing intent in all directions that scared off every sapient for three square blocks. His hands remained a grendel's all the way to the castle. His slitted eyes watched for threats and obstacles. When the moat guards blocked his path, he decided they qualified.

  "Stand aside or suffer my wrath."

  "Wha-how did—”

  The guards switched from crossing their weapons to brandishing them.

  "No one is allowed inside the castle after dark."

  They were obstructing the path to his little sister! Eric raised the right arm of the grendel. It struck the barrier and created eight holes from seven claws. The guard gritted her teeth and repelled him while her partner jabbed his spear butt into Eric's gut, knocking him on his own.

  "Eric Watley, do you think you're dealing with city folk?" the woman asked. "We kill monsters like you for practice."

  "Her Majesty stationed us here in case you tried to force your way in," the man said. "You've grown too comfortable in her castle."

  I want to see you in person right now!

  ...Kas?

  Yes, it’s Kas, I need y...No, it's not necessary, mongrel....Please come right away! Don't listen! Stay away, you monster...Let go! I'm sorry, Lunas—No! I'm not sorry! Eric! Help me!

  Eric snarled and charged mana bolts in both hands. He fired them from a spirit charged with a monster’s savageness, and both of them were deflected into the sky. He roared and fired dual mana beams. The guards raised their barriers, set their stances, and negated both of them. Neither of them were straining or breathing hard.

  “We can do this all night if you want,” the man said.

  “We could use the entertainment,” the woman said.

  “Now scamper away before we call the Justice Station and have you arrested.”

  Eric considered attacking them again, perhaps with his spear, but then he reconsidered. He didn’t attack again and that unnerved the guards more than anything he’d done so far. Then he did something even scarier. His monster's grimace shifted into a trickster's grin.

  "You're absolutely right. Her Majesty is fortunate to have such wonderful guards. I'll come back tomorrow morning and request an appointment like everyone else."

  His body became perfectly human. He turned his back on them and then walked away. The guards didn't relax until he turned a corner. Then one of them shuddered.

  "I think I wet myself."

  "Wuss."

  Once out of sight, he contemplated ways to get inside. His early ideas all boiled down to brute force: biting, charging, offensive spells. He threw them all out with disgust.

  Don’t think like a grendel! I’m human! What would I have done before mutating?

  He remembered sneaking around in Mr. 15’s lair, avoiding fights when possible and befuddling his enemies when it wasn’t (he also remembered killing the befuddled guards without remorse). He remembered the indirect way he saved Zettai from the gallows. It wasn’t by killing everyone but sneaking her out under their noses. He remembered the mix of illusions and darkness he used to move unnoticed at a baseball game on Threa.

  I used darkness most often, so I’ll go with that.

  However, he couldn’t remember the chants. All the darkness spells he’d ever learned were gone from his memory. Nor could he use the wordless Shadow Cloak he acquired recently.

  Illusions it is, then.

  That, too, was a dead end. Illusions were light-based magic, and for someone as drenched in darkness as himself, they were mere parlor tricks. Royal soldiers weren’t going to fall for them. They likely had enchanted armor to see through them anyway.

  My magic’s not strong enough…No, it’s not power. Th
at’s the grendel talking. Eric Watley uses guile. What I am saying? I use guile, because I’m Eric Watley. I don’t use third person.

  He sat down and began to meditate. By controlling his breathing, venerating his personal idols, and focusing on their core tenants, he could regain the Razor Spirit he used to defeat Mr. 15. A second time, he created the spiritual fire necessary for the task. He reformed his spirit into that of the archetypal mage as represented by Grey Dengel and the ideal mercenary as represented by the Mother Dragon.

  Knowledge came and, with it, understanding. He moved from the primitive problem solving of the grendel and into a state of greater critical thinking. This led to wisdom. He was about to plunge into the deeper mysteries of magic when he heard a desperate cry.

  ERIC! WHERE ARE YOU!?

  His eyes snapped open and he stood up, empowered and enlightened, to answer it.

  Stay where you are. My soldiers will definitely attack you. You’re a grendel and dangerous….be careful! I can’t keep him from… helping me because I need his guidance. Asshole! Get the abyss out of….Filthy language. I shouldn’t use it. Nor should I allow monsters in my castle. Lunas is the real mons—

  I’ll be there soon, Kas.

  At the edge of the moat circling Royal Town, Eric did not stop to create an Air Disk. He walked over the thin air without it. Thanks to his meditation and Razor Spirit, he realized the truth. There was no moat and there was no drop. The ground was the same mana as the air above it and the water beneath it. He was tempted to do the notice-the-lack-of-ground-and-run-back thing like in cartoons, but he had something more important to do.

  When he reached the other side, he stopped only momentarily at the curtain wall. It was no thicker than the air on either side of it because all three of them were fundamentally mana. He placed his hands against it, inhaled, and then stepped through it on the exhale.

  By turning it back into mana as he moved through it, he became like a stone dropped into a river. The waterline breaks as the stone touches its surface and then slips back into place when the stone is gone. As all of reality is a river, so was he the stone.

  He moved unseen in Royal Town proper. It was dark with only the moon, stars, and occasional street lamps for light. The only people awake were guards and only the most dedicated were not drowsy. Seeing these less disciplined soldiers gave Eric an idea. Creeping next to one, he stuck his staff out and tripped her. She stumbled and grabbed her partner’s arm.

  “Finally succumb to my charms, have you?”

  “In your dreams! I tripped on something.”

  “We cleared the area this morning. You just can’t accept that you’re crazy about me.”

  “Patrolling with you is driving me crazy!”

  Seeing their lovers’ spat, Eric realized that there was a lot of petty mischief to be had at night. The opportunities were endless.

  I could spoil the mort at the brewery so the alcohol doesn’t develop right. I could sneak into a maiden’s room and give her a scare. I could find a night owl and mislead him into some place dreadful. Even if they notice an invisible person, they’ll think a trickster is responsible, and they’d be correct; just not about which trickster.

  Darkness gathered around him as a light bulb went off in his head. He made no further attempts to sneak or hide because that would tell others that he didn’t think he belonged here. By hiding in plain sight, no one that glanced his way or saw him at a distance would think anything of him. He deliberately crossed the path of another pair of guards and they paid him no attention. His innate darkness convinced them he wasn’t worth paying attention to.

  Mental obfuscation that causes others to dismiss the user, as long as they don’t look too closely. It doesn’t require mana or spiritual presence, so it’ll be cost-effective. Since I’m human and not a grendel, no one will see me as a threat. I’ll call it Concealing Cape.

  The castle gate was locked and all the windows within five floors were closed, but that wasn't going to stop him. All the entrances and indeed the castle itself were nothing but mana in the shape of stones, wood, and other materials. It was no different from the curtain wall. He put his hands against the main door, inhaled, and then stepped forward on the exhale.

  He was inside.

  There were nobles, servants, officials, and guards about and none of them noticed him. They had their own business to attend to, possibly something as secretive as he himself. They didn’t have time to pay heed to the nondescript boy they saw out of the corner of their eyes. Given his age, it was easy to encourage the idea that he was a new recruit on a lover’s tryst.

  Would a grendel have such self-control? Of course not.

  Two guards stood at attention at Kasile’s door. It was here that Eric finally met an impasse. He was out of sight of the guards, but there was no way to enter the hallway without revealing himself and no way to distract them without making them suspicious.

  These are her personal guards. The standards of discipline they adhere to are tremendous. I don’t have enough practice to run through the wall. I’ll need a few seconds at least….

  To confirm his idea, he whispered the spell for Magic Hearing.

  "—bring in the necessary revenue without the need for approval by either the Noble or Common Council."

  "Thank you so much. The Knight of Taxes issued a report of so much Gromece, I didn't know what to do. When you leave out how it adversely affects civilians, it becomes much easier to understand. This must be why you brainwashed your subjects."

  For a moment, the room was silent.

  "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you. I appreciate your advice and—”

  Eric heard a feminine gasp.

  "It's all right. I understand how hard it must be to rule alone at such a young age. I'd be overwhelmed with emotion if my father died before my twenties."

  "I miss him, but I can manage..." Kasile's voice broke on the last word.

  "Go ahead and cry. You don't have to be so brave. I'll always be here to keep you steady."

  "I miss him so much!"

  Lunas infringed on his territory! He should smash the door down and rip his head off!

  Am I a sapient or a monster? Hope or despair? What have I done; what will I do? The Trickster grins. The Trickster grins. The Trickster grins.

  Eric reined in his temper and considered other options. The first one that jumped out at him was Eat them! He shook his head. Kill them! He clenched his fists and took deep breaths. Crush their throats and cripple them! He hit himself on the head. That’s not how Eric…how I do things. I’m sneaky and clever. Based on my memories, I would look for other applications of my power. Like that time I used a spell meant to light up a tunnel to blind monsters. Let’s see…if Concealing Cape makes people ignore me, can I project a given image onto them?

  He focused on the Concealing Cape portraying a mildly attractive and harmless maid. As long as it would get past their guard long enough for him to slip through the wall, then the details wouldn’t matter. After thinking it through further, he put extra focus on the “harmless” part. Knowing Kasile, she would only allow servants within fifty feet of her room during specific periods of the day to prevent precisely this sort of thing.

  It would be easier to just kill them…He hit himself on the head several times.

  Putting all his faith into his magic (not his grendel strength) he stepped forward and into the hall. The guards noticed him instantly, but only one followed his movements. The other watched for anyone else in case this one was a distraction from the real threat. Eric walked by them, shyly and slowly, until he was against the wall separating him from his little sister. Only then did he register enough as a threat for them to ask,

  “Halt! What are you doing here?”

  In the time it took them to say that, Eric passed through the wall. Out of sight is out of mind. As soon as he was on the other side, he concealed himself behind a dresser.

  Inside the royal room, Kasile sat at the table in the cente
r. She wore a less cumbersome version of her royal splendor along with two differences. The first was that she wasn't wearing a crown of any kind and, instead, a plain headband that kept her hair out of her face. The second was a non-Ataidar piece of jewelry. It was a silver silk choker that enclosed her throat completely. Set within was a ruby. Three bars ran across the top and sides to hold it in place.

  Sitting opposite from her was a boy of similar age. His eyes were a violet shade of purple but greyness formed a circle in each iris. Surrounding them was a regal face further surrounded by purple-grey hair, which was in turn surrounded by an orichalcum circlet. His clothing was simple, like hers, but still opulent enough for a prince. On the middle finger of his right hand was a metal ring. It displayed Order’s crest, the Piercing Eye, with a pair of hands flanking a single eye. He carried no weapon, but Eric knew this was because he didn’t need a handheld weapon. A silver tongue and ordercrafter were more than sufficient for Lunas Latrot.

  "Please tell me if Your Majesty wishes to discuss anything else."

  Kasile leaned back and played with a hair braid. “I...I don't want to trouble you..."

  Lunas leaned forward and grasped her hand, taking it away from her hair and pulling her forward. "It's no trouble. I want you to tell me, right now, what is on your mind."

  “It...It's about the Mana Mutation Summit."

  "Yes?"

  Kasile averted her eyes in embarrassment. "I believe that...No, you'll think it's stupid."

  Lunas grabbed her chin lightly with his other hand and used it as a handle to direct her head and resume eye contact. It reminded Eric of Evil Eye.