Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3)

by Brian Wilkerson

  With a curtsy, she said, “Lord Eric, thank you for escorting me today.”

  He bowed and said, “My pleasure, Lady Annala, but before we go, allow me to add something to your beauty.”

  “Oh? What is it?”

  Eric retrieved the package from the pawnshop. “I was going to give you this later, but this is a better opportunity.” He opened the box and revealed the choker.

  Hands over her mouth, she exclaimed, “How in the world did you afford this!?!” Her hands moved to her hips. “Did you steal this one too?”

  “No. I exchanged it for one of greater value yet damaged condition and I assure you that I didn’t steal that one either. It was a gift that an ordercrafter prince gave to Her Majesty that she gave to me because she didn’t like it.”

  “Whatever you say. Help me put it on.”

  She took the queen’s collar off, then she turned her back to him and lifted her long hair. The sight distracted him until she cleared her throat. Sheepishly, he slipped the choker around her neck and fastened the clasp at her nape. Mine. Then he helped her into her coat and offered his arm. She accepted it and they walked out together.

  Waiting for them on the bridge was the rest of Team Four. Eric did a double take when he saw his mentor and suddenly realized what he must look like. Dressed up and with an equally formal girl on his arm could mean only one thing.

  “Going on a date instead of a mission, are we?”

  “No, Daylra,” Eric said with a straight face. “I was escorting the daughter of Dnnac Ledo’s ambassador to the castle for the Mana Mutation Summit at the request of Her Majesty.”

  Basilard raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Yes. I have a letter from the castle in my apartment that contained her invitation.”

  “Good. We do too.”

  “You what?”

  All three of them pulled out a ticket identical to the ones Eric and Annala possessed. Basilard was invited to represent the Bladi Clan, Nolien to represent the noble Heleti family of which he still insisted he wasn’t part, and Tiza because of her recovery.

  “I’m willing to let this one slide given recent events but don’t let it happen again.”

  “Understood, Daylra.”

  Roalt Castle's curtain wall was just as snow covered as everything else and the moat was frozen solid. Sculptors were using it as a gallery for the aftermath of the Winter Blaze Festival and as a post-Torch Day display. Annala and Nolien admired and discussed them while the guards looked over their invitations.

  “Her Majesty’s Pet and the ambassador’s daughter; this country is going to the elves.”

  He signaled his buddy on the other side to lower the wall's defenses. Most of the Summit’s attendees arrived via airship, and so passed different security. Team Four, members of the press, and other local guests were the only ones using the land entrance. Basilard assured Eric that Hasina was not one of those guests because of what she did at the last Summit.

  One of your soldiers just called me your “pet.”

  Does that bother you?

  No, but when I’m pushing one of your agendas, it makes me feel like your trickster.

  That would make me Lady Chaos. Eric, I'm flattered. You know, if you really wanted to work for me, the position of Royal Mage is open.

  First of all, no, and we’ve been through why as early as an hour ago. Second, I'm nowhere near qualified, and third, why's it open?

  Cicerone Sequitor quit. He said he couldn't stand working for a “little brat” and was going somewhere where his talents would be put to better use.

  He finally said it to your face, did he?

  It made him so happy.

  The five walked through Royal Town to the castle gates where their invitations were examined once more. Once inside the castle walls, they could shed a layer of clothing thanks to the heating system built into the castle's towers.

  As they took off their coats, Eric realized his teammates had dressed up as well. Basilard wore a masculine version of the formal wear he saw Zettai wear in Ceiha, but there was a key difference: the contrasting color was white instead of black. I bet it’s something involving plasma or white blood cells. Black blood is dead blood.

  Nolien wore something similar to Eric but in Heleti colors and with Heleti symbols, thus making his oft denials of belonging to that family all the flimsier. Tiza wore the blue dress she found in Dengel’s Lair because it was certainly the only formal clothing she owned. Before he said a word about it, she justified it.

  “I’m wearing this because it’s what I wore when I developed monsanity. The reason is purely scientific. It’s not because Tenderfoot said I look good in it.”

  Eric knew better than to contradict her.

  Annala hung off his arm as they approached the audience chamber, beaming the whole way and rattling off facts she'd only seen in books. Tiza and Nolien walked behind them completely platonic, although their hands brushed once or twice. They reacted as if burned and stepped apart, only to drift back together. Basilard read his dirty book while walking.

  At the audience chamber entrance, there was a line. Two members of Kasile’s Royal Ordercraft Security and Compliance team checked the IDs and invitations of each and every guest. Even visiting royalty had to indulge them, but they let Eric through without a fuss. Either I'm Her Majesty's pet, making it rude, or The Trickster's pet, making it moot.

  Their destination was the Hall of the Avatars. Instead of a celebration of Fiol alone, all ten gods received their accolades here. Forol bringing life to the Gaurmonian Desert decorated one wall. Waol’s conquest of the World Serpent was cast in bronze. Laol composed his History of the World with Eaol on another wall. A third housed a painting of Fiol’s Last Stand to halt the advance of the Divine Emperor.

  Before the Avatar Alliance, Tariatla was a harsh world to live in. Between an unstable environment, frequent warfare, and legendary monsters, mana mutation was the least of their worries. It was because of these ten godly avatars that the world enjoyed the peace it had for the last two thousand years. They quickly put an end to global conflicts and resolved the problems underlying them. They did not allow anything that threatened the world itself to exist.

  No doubt Kasile chose it because she descended from one of them and they did not.

  Over one hundred twenty nations gathered here; the sum total of the world. Considering the size of some of the visitors, fitting them all in was quite a trick. Grey Dengel suggested the elven infinite space technology known as Zerofinite.

  There were humans, orcs, dwarves, mermaids, dragons, mana-breeds, animals, demons, and beastfolk in one score varieties. All of them had their own place at the enormous round table with specially designed chairs to fit their culture and physical stature. Kasile's ancestors spared no expense because nowhere was it more prudent to show tact than here.

  In the center of the table and on a raised platform, Emily’s statue stood tall and proud. It was indeed in the likeness of Kallen, and in a partially transformed state. Her hair gathered around her neck and upper back like a mane and two wings came out of her mid-back. Her right hand held her staff and her left hand bore claws. From the waist down, the statue was human save for a snake tail emerging from her lower back. Some of the delegates were admiring it when Eric came in and one of them was an elf.

  He was as tall as Basilard and didn’t look a day over thirty but all this meant was that he was fully grown; he could have been thirty thousand. He wore a full-length robe that depicted heroic scenes tied together with the Flower of Chaos. At the hem were games of tic-tac-toe made from fresh charcoal. When he caught sight of Eric, his eyes narrowed, and that was when Eric noticed the resemblance to Annala.

  “Who are you?” he demanded. “Why is my baby girl on your arm?”

  Annala refused to fidget. Instead, she stood tall and said, "Dad, this is Eric Watley, my boyfriend. Eric, this is Ponix Enaz, my father."

  Ponix shifted his head into a gigantic blue form with red ey
es and a forked tongue. In a booming and sinister voice, he asked, “What is as big as a mountain and full of hot air?”

  Without thinking about it, Eric responded, “Dengel’s ego.”

  The elf diplomat hooted with laughter and his giant face deflated with each chuckle. Then, still laughing, he slapped Eric on the back.

  "Terrific answer! It is both metaphorically and literally accurate! Now, I’ve always wanted to ask this of a mana-born demon: what do you see me as?”

  “Honestly, sir? My instincts are screaming ‘threat.’”

  “Good.” He reached into his robe for a pouch of smoked beans. “Want some?”

  Annala was mortified. "DAD! You're not supposed to eat those in public!"

  “Oh yes, I thought I was forgetting something..." He turned in thought and the teens saw a horn poking out the back of his head and tail from under his robes. “Oh yes! Nunnal wanted me to give Kallen a care package.” He extended his neck above the crowd to scout the room and pinpointed her location. “There you are.” He walked forward and hit his head on a chandelier. Annala winced.

  “Your dad’s a flake.”

  “Yes, he is, but he’s a good ambassador.”

  Kallen sat at a small table in satellite to the larger main one. When she saw Ponix, she stood up and hugged him. She certainly didn't look like a field agent today. Like everyone else, she dressed up for the Summit.

  A sky blue dress decorated with clouds; it was a simple knee-length without any frills or ornaments. She didn’t wear jewels or even monster teeth or claws like Tiza, but her green hair shined and the golden-brown streaks sparkled. The last time he saw her this way was at Roalt's New Scepter Contest.

  Must be her standard formal wear.

  Emily stood at her side, similarly formal. She wore the same cocktail dress that she did when she arrived in this world, albeit tailored to her younger stature. It stirred memories in Eric of the time they dated. He had mixed feelings about them because they took place on Threa, and throughout the relationship, he could only think about Annala.

  “My dear Kallen, have you made friends?”

  “Yep!”

  There was a cat girl holding a fishbowl containing a piranha scaled with metal and cotton fringes. Sitting across from her was a human man with a jellyfish that looked like a dog with seaweed skin sitting on his head. Next to him was a bird woman holding a bunny that had electric sockets growing out of its skin, screens in its ears, and solid honey fur that attracted static electricity. Finally, there was an old dog-demon dude with a whale-insect half his size. These were all monsters, yet they looked tame.

  "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Eric Watley," Kallen said.

  The old dude invaded his personal space in order to smell him. As he was part dog, Eric took no offense. He was only thankful that the guy was sniffing his front.

  "Were you really a grendel?"

  "Technically, I still am a grendel."

  "You've pulled a 180..." The old dog dude petted the fuzzy head of his whale/insect/thing. "I wish my son could do that."

  "He seems docile enough..." Eric said.

  "Oh yes, he's much better than before. He can be around people without trying to eat them and even allows others to pet him. "

  "We're the lucky ones. That's why we're here," said the cat girl with the piranha. She stuck her hand into the jar and the piranha licked her fingers. She pulled the fish out and nuzzled it. "You're a good little mutant fishie sister, aren't chu?"

  Eric turned to the guy with the seaweed jelly-dog. “What’s this breed of monster called?"

  "Human," the seaweed jelly-dog said.

  "Oops...sorry."

  Tiza laughed at him. Basilard gave her a rap on the head so she laughed at the jelly-dog instead. Nolien face-palmed.

  "No problem," the jelly-dog said with what amounted to a shrug. "It happens."

  "That must have been a severe mutation to cause so much change.”

  "The real mutation's in his mind. Isn't that right, Cousin Fester?"

  "Fart lightbulb skateboard," the monster human said, completely serious. “Climb the moon and rinse the socks.”

  “That’s a non sequitur,” Annala said.

  “Yes, it is,” the jelly-dog replied forlornly.

  “No, I mean it’s a form of poetry. My grandfather writes them.”

  The jelly-dog narrowed his eyes. “Is this an elven prank?”

  Annala returned the stare. “No. I do not joke about my grandfather.”

  “Then…” The jelly-dog choked on the words. “You mean my cousin isn’t spouting random gibberish? There’s a thought process behind it!?”

  Annala closed her eyes and held up a gloved finger. “To quote the Bard of Avalon, ‘though this be madness, there is method in it.’”

  The jelly-dog jumped off his cousin’s head, onto Annala’s, and hugged it. “Thank you…Thank you…Thank you…”

  The others gathered around Annala, imploring her to determine whether their family member was more than a mindless beast. At first, she was scared by the attention and the nails of Eric’s right hand became claws. Then she calmed down and exuded a reassuring air as she reassured the desperate souls.

  “My mother is an expert on mana mutation and its applications in medical technology, so I see a lot of victims,” she said while looking over the piranha. “There’s always something left of their mind after the mutation.” She stepped around the whale-insect and minded the stinger. “Usually, it’s attachment to friends and family.” She skipped over to Eric and took his arm. “For instance, my Eric used to have trouble deciding who he could and could not eat, but myself and others helped him to find himself again.” She leaned into him and he laid his head against hers. “It’s possible that your loved ones can have the same success.”

  All of them cheered and thanked her, shaking her hand and clapping her back. At last it became too much and she deferred their praise to her adoptive sister, the real mana mutation agent. Kallen stepped in and provided the details Annala lacked to greater acclaim. Some nearby dignitaries overheard them and their spirits rose. Then Lunas entered the room.

  The Prince of Latrot cut his way through the pre-summit crowd. No one wanted to be too close to him for fear of his power. Latrot worshipped Order and its royalty practiced the art of Absolute Control. It was an invisible power that could dominate minds and crush souls. It scared anyone who could not fight him off, which was all but a handful of people in the room.

  He sat down on one side of the round table and folded his hands in his lap. Ten faceless guards stood behind him. Rumors stated that they were zombies whose souls Lunas ate to increase the power of his own. His opposition to Medical Mana Mutation was well known and thus he was unpopular with Kallen’s new friends.

  Kasile sat down gracefully at the other end of the table and arranged her skirts. Siron pushed her chair in and stood behind her with the rest of her guards. Each one of them was a different race or species and none of them wore helmets to emphasize this fact. One of her ordercrafters accompanied them to prove that Lunas did not have a mandate from Order for his opposition. Her support for Medical Mana Mutation (or rather her late mother’s) was well known and thus she was popular with Kallen’s new friends.

  The room continued to fill as more big wigs took their seats. An administrator from the Autocracy of Liclis sat next to Lunas, while a dwarf duke from the Republic of Acemo sat as far away as possible. Abbot Tolis from Our Lady of Benevolent Mischief in Rlawader sat next to Kasile without a word. A Support Beam from Mithra sat on her other side. Her demeanor was serenity itself, but Eric could feel her anxiety. Once everyone was seated, Siron pulled out her chair, and she stood up and said, "I thank you all for coming. May this meeting bring us closer to a full understanding and resolution of Mana Mutation. Before we begin discussion, allow me to introduce the artist of our centerpiece. Emily Tompson, please step forward.”

  Emily approached the main table and curtsied to the delegates.


  “Miss Tompson, please tell us about your work.”

  “Kallen Selios is among the few in the modern age to make a full recovery, and the first whose recovery was artificially induced. She is proof that a reliable treatment can be found. She inspires me and I hope this statue will inspire you.”

  “Thank you, Miss Tompson. You may sit.”

  Emily curtsied again to the delegates and returned to her seat.

  “The first item on our agenda is the introduction of another inspiring individual. Allow me to present Eric Watley, the Modern Demon.”

  Eric stepped forward and bowed to the assembled rulers. “Good day, ladies and gentlemen. How was your trip?”

  “Two and a half months ago, Mr. Watley mutated into a grendel and Ataidar’s branch of the ICDMM reversed his mutation in both mind and body. He stands before you now as neither human nor monster, but a demon. Mr. Watley, please give them a demonstration.”

  To his queen, he said, “Yes, Your Majesty.” To the other rulers he said, “What you are about to see may startle you; parental supervision is recommended.”

  His eyes slitted and his lips separated into a grin. His body rippled and his form extended and broadened. His skin became harder and his nails became claws. Other changes occurred until Eric stood before them as a true grendel. While the other rulers backed away or drew weapons, Kasile offered him her gloved hand. He gently took it and kissed the back of her palm.

  “Fear not. I remain Her Majesty’s loyal subject.”

  Just as easily as before, he returned to his smaller, meeker human state.

  “Appearance is an illusion because identity is all that matters. Regardless if I am human or grendel at the moment, I am always Eric Watley.”

  “Mr. Watley has provided groundbreaking data. Isn’t that right, Miss Selios?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. There was singing and kissing and celebratory wine.”

  “The ICDMM has not produced successful results in years,” Lunas drawled. “Forgive me if I am skeptical.”

  He stood up and gestured.

  “Eric Watley is the Trickster’s Choice. Shapeshifting is elven magic. How do we know that this is not a farce?”