Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3)

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Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3) Page 15

by Brian Wilkerson


  “I don’t get it,” the wolf head said.

  Gruffle sighed and ripped the head off with its former arm.

  “You’re an idiot. Even with my sapience, you’re an idiot.”

  Suddenly, he was staring at the ground with his tail high in the air. Someone was dangling him upside down. That person grabbed his arm next and spun him until he was dizzy. When it finally stopped, Gruffle was face-to-face with The Trickster.

  “I get it. Do you have any more jokes?”

  Eric did not go to bed that night. Instead, he sat at his desk to read another chapter from Introduction to Magecraft. Then he remembered that he still couldn’t read. In a rage, he threw the book at the wall.

  Nor was he able to sleep, so he went outside and practiced martial arts on the bridge above his house. He was so focused, angry, and despairing that he didn't look where he was swinging and brought his staff straight into someone's face. The human man nonchalantly dodged and counter-attacked with a punch to his stomach.

  "Oof!" Eric grunted. "Sorry, Rab."

  "Don't worry about it. We're even.” Noticing Eric’s distress, he added, “Is something bothering you?"

  It was an embarrassing walk for Eric as he blurted out his love life and its problems. Rab nodded and commented on their way to his tavern.

  The Full Mug was a small building a block away from Cutlass Bridge. As it sat on the border of Sailor Town, many of its customers were seafaring. The floorboards were constructed with a special kind of pine that resisted warping and held moisture. It was expensive but necessary for the tavern's staff and clientele, such as the family of dolphins at table three.

  Rab sat Eric down at the bar and said, "What you need is my patented taverncraft."

  "There's a branch of magic for tavern keepers?"

  Rab demonstrated by mixing up a drink. To Eric's surprise, he didn't reach for any of the alcoholic liquids but instead for bottles of chocolate syrup, jars of peanut butter, and other ingredients that he refused to identify but insisted were legal for minors. At the end, he placed both hands on either side of the drink and intoned, "Love can lead to joy divine/love can say 'please be mine.' But when the love says 'no'/ drink this down, yo ho! Heartbreak drink!"

  A stream of blue light poured from the human's hands and into the mixture. It glowed pink, then purple, and settled on grey. Rab pushed it to Eric and said, "On the house for a heartbroken man."

  Eric thanked him and took a sip. It was sweet and the aftertaste lifted his mood. He downed the thing in one gulp like mana juice. This took the edge off his pain. In fact, he felt like bouncing back. Jumping onto an empty table, he declared, “Ladies and gentleman! Your friendly tavern keeper has hired a magician for your enjoyment. Watch and be amazed!”

  He cast illusions of his previous opponents and “fought” them through the room. After several rounds, he would finish them with a technique called “Chaos Gold Eggs,” another illusion, that showered the room with rainbow light. After “winning” each bout, he bowed to applause.

  When he ran out of “enemies,” he showed them his latest tricks: walking through solid objects or turning those same objects into mana. Then, what truly impressed them, he pretended to read someone's mind with a card trick. Mages were common, but psychics were rare.

  Chaos breeds mages. Chaos breeds monsters. Must have mana; must have mana; must have mana.

  The voice echoed in his mind. Eric accepted it and moved on.

  This shameless showing off attracted attention, the first of which was a royal patrol investigating the strange lights. Eric laughed as he explained the truth. They mumbled, “Trickster's Choice” and sat down for a drink. He was not the only one to do so. Rab made so much extra business that he offered Eric additional free drinks and appetizers too.

  By now, it was early morning. Eric expected the pub to empty out, and it did, but more people came by and replaced them. To his delight, some were his fellow mercenaries like Kae the dog lady and her partner, Jet the black lab. The latter sniffed his rear.

  "You smell like a grendel."

  Eric gulped. It's now or never... "I am a grendel."

  Jet raised his hackles and Kae dropped her glass. Rab and his patrons stopped what they were doing to stare. Eric cringed and prepared for the worst. Then Jet licked his hand and said, "You have my sincerest condolences, Trickster's Choice."

  "The Trickster has gone too far this time!" Kae declared.

  "It wasn't Tasio's fault!" Eric protested. "It was mine."

  Tasio himself appeared next to him. "Don't bother, Eric. They blame me for everything."

  "That's because you're usually responsible," Rab said.

  Tasio shrugged and disappeared.

  More of his fellows came by and Jet told each one of them the news. Just as Eric feared, his fellows treated him differently, but instead of as a threat, it was as a victim and Tasio was the bad guy. The only exception was Culmus, who said that Prince Lunas was responsible. Then he ranted about how horrible the guy was and how he monopolized Kasile's time with his attempts to infiltrate her heart. Rab whipped up another batch of Heartbreak Drink and Culmus chugged it. Then he threw it to the ground and shouted, "ANOTHER!"

  "You're paying for that cup."

  Culmus' captain, Giji Mesh, also made an appearance with Lieutenant Aegis. She was one of Rab's regulars and so her favorite was prepared before she sat down. As she drank, she juggled and progressively upped the difficulty with each drink she finished. First, there were mugs, then swords, then chairs, and, finally, other drunkards. At that point, Rab walked around the bar and held Giji's next cup just out of her reach. In this way, he lured her to the exit, and once she was out the door, Aegis slammed it shut and dragged his smashed captain home.

  Basilard arrived with the rising sun for a specialty drink. The tavern keeper noted his harried and stressed appearance, and, like he did with Eric and Culmus, asked what was bothering him. Basilard talked about the upcoming formal introduction of his legal ward to his clan; all the necessary preparations and precautions, and how difficult she was making everything. Rab listened and nodded while doing his magic.

  “I’ve mentored preteen girls before. Why is raising one so much harder?”

  “She would be more affectionate if you treated her like a daughter instead of dung.”

  “I know! And I’m trying, but the rest of my clan is not so understanding.”

  Basilard drank and slammed the glass down.

  “Anyway, why is my student performing on a table?”

  At the far end of the room, Eric was levitating chairs while singing a square dance song one of the patrons taught him. Rab told him the whole story while cleaning a glass. At its conclusion, Basilard frowned and made his way to the stage. Pulling his student down, he chose his words carefully. Eric was in a fragile state of mind and might react violently if he didn't.

  "What did Rab say on the subject?"

  "'If I knew anything about romance, I wouldn't spend my nights serving winos.’"

  "Figures...I think you still have a shot."

  "I asked her out and she said no! How much clearer can it be!?"

  "She didn't say 'no.' She said ‘busy,’ which means—”

  "I ruined our friendship!"

  "No, you didn’t. It means she didn't want to hurt you."

  Eric's sorrow made him goofy. "She's so kind...and sweet...and beautiful...and..."

  Basilard chuckled softly. He remembered these days well; more Retina's than his own. The fighter turned into such a laughable fool around Sathel that Basilard himself had endless teasing material. Seeing the same behavior in his own student was an entirely different experience. As a mentor, he was supposed to guide and support instead of stage romantic hijinks.

  “…smells like strawberries...and..."

  "Give her time to think."

  "Huh?"

  "Girls are sensitive about this kind of thing. You can't decide, on a whim, to ask your friend for a serious romantic relation
ship in a monster lair where she has bad memories. You need to use baby steps. All you can do now is let her think on it."

  "Is there anything I can do in the meantime?"

  "Yes. Grab coffee or energy shots or whatever will keep you awake for the next twelve hours because Her Majesty and a dozen other people will want a piece of the Modern Demon."

  "Yes, Daylra... but, first…"

  Eric jumped back on top of his impromptu stage and announced his departure to his audience. They demanded one more act, so Eric obliged them by asking what they'd like for his grand finale. One of the more inebriated patrons bellowed, "SHOW US YOUR TRUE FORM!"

  Another one hiccupped and seconded, "Yeah! We wanna see the grendel!"

  The rest rallied behind the two and chanted, "Grendel, grendel, grendel!"

  "Okay! You asked for it!"

  His eyes slitted. His skin toughened into a metallic substance. He grew bigger, broader, and went through other changes besides until he looked less human and more like a humanoid monster. He reared back and roared. The sapients looked in awe; some fainted. Others took up weapons and stumbled to their feet. Eric's instincts said they were a threat and must be killed, but his human memories stated otherwise. His time with Kallen at the ICDMM concurred and he could only imagine how disappointed Annala would be if he killed an innocent.

  He jumped over them and the room itself to reach the exit. By the time his feet touched the ground, he was human again and crouched in a bow. Everyone clapped, cheered, hiccupped, or fell over. Eric exited stage left and Tasio spun into existence next to Basilard.

  "I hope you're enjoying this," the Bladi man remarked.

  "More than you can imagine," The Trickster replied.

  From the Full Mug, Eric ran to the Long Horn item shop. Warriors of all sorts required a boost now and then, so it carried a variety of energy drinks, energy tablets, nutrition bars, and the like. He strolled to the brand he preferred, picked out one, and sensed someone behind him.

  "Why am I not surprised?"

  "Because we're soul mates."

  Eric sighed and faced Kallen. "I'm going to be badgered all day today and likely every day up to the Mana Mutation Summit. I don't have time for your teasing and sarcasm."

  Kallen pouted. "You're mean.”

  Eric slouched. “Sorry. I’ve been up all night dealing with reapers, monsters, ordercrafters, and my own instincts. Then Annala said she was ‘too busy’ for a lunch date.”

  Kallen took his right hand in her left and said, “Wanna talk about it?”

  So they did. After receiving the recap, she withdrew her hand and, immediately, Eric felt cold and isolated. As always, physical contact with her triggered warmth and peace within him, but no matter how he pondered, he couldn't figure out why.

  She WAS joking when she said “soul mates,” right?

  You are aware that such a phenomenon exists, correct? Grey Dengel replied.

  You mean I could be!?

  It is possible. Of all the infinity of souls in the infinity of Noitearc, every one of them shares a special bond with one other and only one other. That Kallen is yours has the same chance as lightning striking the same person seven times on seven days in seven different places each, but it is possible because Ligol can be malicious when she wants to be.

  "Kallen, you joked about soulmates; do you believe in them?"

  The explorer browsed the aisle and compared energy shots. She looked at their nutrition information instead of Eric's face.

  "I think it's stuff that high school girls gossip about while reading horoscopes. Those things probably say nerds breed, like you and Annala."

  Eric blushed but then looked downcast.

  Kallen selected several of one brand. "Right, you’re in the doghouse..."

  Eric nodded, miserable.

  "Buy her something, like a book. A big thick one with tiny font and words that are five syllables long. She'll eat it up and have you for dessert."

  "Basilard told me to give her time alone...to sort out her feelings."

  Kallen flicked his forehead with her free hand. "Your mentor is a middle-aged man. I am a teenage girl. Who are you gonna believe when it comes to a teenage girl's heart?"

  "Touché."

  They paid for their liquid energy and discussed the merits of their respective brands on their way to the Dragon’s Lair. Kallen preferred hers with a kick that kept her on high volume for hours. Eric differed by selecting a milder formula that simply took away his fatigue and did not make him jittery. The one thing they agreed on was that both were preferable to Mana Juice; it was too expensive for the little effect it had on drowsiness.

  Kallen stopped at the door to the guild.

  "May you enjoy your new celebrity, Second Choice," she said. "It's not going anywhere."

  "I'll survive it somehow, First Choice," he said. "Do you have any plans?"

  "Emily's celebratory party for winning the Winter Blaze Festival sculpture contest."

  "She won?"

  “Yep!" She rattled her purchases. “I'll see you at the Summit."

  She pulled her staff out and then blew him a kiss. A bolt of lightning struck her and she was gone. Eric started to puzzle out how she did that but decided to shelf it for another day and entered the guild instead.

  "Good morning, Eric!" Mia said with her bright smile. "How's my favorite grendel?"

  It was hard not to smile back.

  "Good...Listen, Mia… I've got some girl trouble."

  She leaned forward. "Ooohhh! Do tell!"

  "Before I say anything, I want to make one thing clear—I don't want to see it on your blog."

  Mia held out her pinky and they pinky-promised.

  "It's a friend of mine from school. I asked her out and... it's complicated….”

  "You should write her a poem. That's what my fan club does and if I were interested in any of you, it would work."

  Eric slouched. "Do you have to put it like that?"

  Mia pulled a paper fan out of nowhere and smacked him with it. "You're interested in this schoolgirl, right? Then write her a poem. You can compose one while you wait for the others."

  Instead, Eric sat back and put out a call to Kasile.

  I don't trust words or shallow gifts, the queen replied. It has to be a grand act to win my affection. Siron and Culmus did so, but that snake Lunas...I would incinerate him if not for the international disaster it would cause.

  Does that mean slaying an A class monster or retrieving some priceless treasure?

  Yes, it would, if you lived in the 10th century. I'm sure you can think of something that hasn't been done a thousand times in medieval romances.

  When the team assembled, Mia delivered a handful of mission bills. As she said the previous night, all of them were interviews with information outlets. Some were historians asking about Dengel; others were talk shows asking about his mutation and still others were the tabloids Mia offered to cut up.

  "I've been out of the country for over a month, out of the continent," Eric said to the first professional gossiper. "What would I know about K—Her Majesty’s love life?"

  It was a coffee place known as Sun Coins. Three-fourths of Team Four sat at one table; Tiza was stuffing scones, Nolien sipped tea, and Basilard read his dirty book. Eric sat at another table with a columnist searching for dirt on the local rulers.

  There were all sorts of rumors flying about the presumed heir to the Bladi Clan, the working courtship of the Heir of Heleti with a mysterious commoner, and Kasile with the handsome Prince Lunas residing in her palace. All of these made Eric scowl.

  "There's a rumor that you have some kind of mythical-magical link with Her Majesty and it's why you're always near when she needs you."

  "No, that's just good planning on Tasio—The Trickster! I meant The Trickster!" he shouted helplessly when the writer smirked and wrote something down.

  As the columnist explained, Kasile had been displaying odd behavior in public lately. Lunas was often at he
r side when she spoke and, off camera, they had been walking suspiciously close to each other. Paparazzi even got a shot of him pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

  That snake has tarnished my image! To think he would exploit my pain to encourage weakness! He’s just the sort of scoundrel Father warned me about! I have to get back at him.

  Does that mean I can eat him?

  No. This must be subtle and unrelated. I will use the Mana Mutation Summit to shame him and discredit his country’s society. The information you provided and your presence will do nicely for this purpose. Also, engage him in childish arguments if you can so I can mediate.

  “Mr. Watley, is something wrong?”

  Eric slitted his eyes and the columnist flinched. “I felt a disturbance in the local leyline. I apologize for ignoring you.”

  “Th…that’s quite all right…”

  Repeat after me and I may forgive you for causing my humiliation.

  “If Her Majesty didn’t do something scandalous every week, you’d go out of business. I think Her Majesty is simply being a friendly host to a guest who is visiting a country that does not share his views. It’s possibly an attempt to repair the damage King Epidermis has done to the relationship between Ataidar and Latrot with his repeated land incursions and brainwashing of diplomats. After spending time with a successful teenage ruler, I think Loony Lunas will have a better idea of how to rule on his own, if his father ever lets him.”

  The columnist hurried to record everything. “Can I quote you on that?”

  Loony Lunas? Really? “Be my guest.” You know I’m gonna get flack for this.

  Better you than me.

  Another mission was a live TV show called Check Out! With Starven Michaels. Unlike the tabloid, all four members of Team Four appeared on camera. Tiza talked about her experience with monsanity, Nolien and Basilard about their family’s medical practices and Eric, the star, about his recovery. The host asked him about his identity as a demon, his mutation, and other things relating to his new life.

 

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