"The daughter of the God of family and honor," he sighed. "How difficult it must be for you to try and keep those you cherish most from harm, knowing you're doomed to failure."
Am not, she shot back.
"We all are, Ramora," he smiled as he stood, also placing a gentle kiss on her head. "We're just mortals. Failure is inevitable."
She watched him go, thinking about that. Her rumination about life among the Ascended returned to haunt her, as she admitted he was right again. All of that aside, she asked her Father only for the strength to protect her little family. If she could do that, then she could never fail.
Much to Ramora's chagrin, her two friends took to their roles with the capability she'd known they had, even if she hadn't wanted to admit it. The concept of herself as the shield, keeping the horrors of the Demon Gods at bay, was hard to let go of, even as Chara took to organizing the Blessed more effectively than Rick or Leto had managed.
Chara had settled in at the table, studying the information Collette died for, as well as examining the miniature model Bit had made from bottles while Esteban familiarized himself with the Blessed's attack patterns, and Rills’ defensive postures, as well as helping refine Ramora's sign language into a quick, easy-to-remember shorthand.
By afternoon, the young woman from Rheumer had taken complete charge of the training, restructuring the team and altering their battle plan considerably. As evening fell, they’d still not overcome Rills defensive strategy, but they had managed to make significant inroads, gaining more ground under Chara's commanding eye.
Pleased with their progress, Rick had effectively named the young woman their strategist, and to no one's surprise, Chara took her work home with her, spending dinner going over the stronghold layout, as well as making a guess that Draco would've reinforced his security after the last team had successfully infiltrated it.
While Ramora doubted the young woman's assumption that the Dark Blessed would've doubled his forces, she said nothing. It was better to err on the side of caution, after all. Besides, it was good to see Chara throwing herself into something she was clearly good at. The Blessed of Ramor couldn't help but feel that the tiny nation of Fival had lost out by not allowing women into their military, this girl in particular.
The next day came with a complete change of plan again, Chara rearranging their attack patterns, forcing them all to keep up with her nimble way of thinking. Rills, most of all, had trouble adjusting to the on-the-fly alterations the young woman made, relayed via Rick, who was starting to smile at her quick and decisive orders to Bit's eternal shock.
Likewise, Esteban's shorthand began to really flow naturally, allowing fast, precise communication between the team members. Tanna, despite being blind, was able to pick up on the subtle shifts in the others’ auras she quickly associated with the bare bones information being exchanged. As the day wore on, all of the Blessed began to feel like a team, and their grand plan started feeling like it had a real chance at success.
Ramora had never expected to find so many fellow agents of the Divine to help her in what she'd long thought of as her personal cause, but as they made their final push for the day, surrounding the startled Rills, and claiming victory, she was thankful to Heaven for each of them.
With her new friends at her side, she believed for the first time since learning the name of the man who'd murdered her family that she stood a chance of delivering justice not just for them, but the entire village she'd called home. It made her proud to call them brothers and sisters, these brave mortals who stood at her side.
In Paradise, she knew, her family was smiling. Soon, the crimes committed against them would be answered for. Soon, she would be able to put the nightmares to rest. Soon, Draco would meet his end.
Pleased with what she'd taken to calling her Blessed, Chara gave them the next day off, claiming that she had an appointment. Feeling flushed with their victory, the small group of heroes made plans of their own.
One week down, two to go, and they were feeling more than ready.
Chapter Thirty-Three
CHARA STARED UP at the sign, feeling both excited, and full of dread as it swung in the cold morning breeze. Rayne's Shop Of Sorcery. Either her weapons were ready, or they would never be. Steeling herself, she shoved the door open, and plunged into the gloom. She was greeted by the smell of dust, mold, wood and metal, a mixture that was oddly enticing.
"Rayne?" she called out. "It's Chara. Are you there?"
There was a long moment of silence. "Where else would I be? I live upstairs, you know."
Shaking her head, Chara gave the darkness a tired smile. "Think you could turn some lights on?"
"Oh, dragon winkies!" Rayne fussed. "Yeah! Hang on a second! Be right there! Don't move! I'm coming! I think!"
The young woman rested her hands on her hips, waiting patiently as she heard clattering from the back, mild cursing, the sound of something heavy falling, a shrill scream, what sounded like cats fighting, another crash, more cursing, a cow, something in Elven, and finally, lights.
Rayne stood at the back of her shop, panting, in a leather vest and pants, both a rich blue under the dust and grime that covered them, her goggles askew on her head. One of her ponytails had come loose, the other fine, making Chara wonder how the Spellweaver managed to even take care of herself enough to not be dead.
"Hi," Rayne beamed. "Welcome to Rayne's Shop Of Sorcery! I'm Rayne! What can I do for you?"
Chara gave her a withering glare. "I'm Chara. I'm here for my weapons."
Rayne stared at her for a long time, pulled her goggles down, stared at her for a long time again, and then pushed them back up. "Sorry. No idea what you're talking about."
"Yeah, I sort of figured you'd say something like that," the young woman sighed. "I guess Esteban was right. You aren't to be trusted. I'll just go fetch the authorities, and tell the sorcerers in Kormack's Tower that you're here."
Rayne gaped. "Hold on! I was just kidding! I totally know who you are, of course I do, don't be silly, it's not like I could forget a pretty face like yours, now is it, though I do seem to recall you had a big Cat with you last time, not that it matters, you seem a smart, talented and capable young woman who really wants her toys back, so I'll just go get them for you, in a minute, cause something seems different, and did you cut your hair?"
"Rayne, focus," Chara chided.
"Focus!" she declared pointing at the ceiling for some reason. "Uh, wait, what am I focusing on?"
"Me?" Chara suggested.
Rayne was against her in a heartbeat. "That I could do all night."
Chara calmly reached up and snapped her goggles. "As a customer."
The Half Elf fell to her knees, rubbing her face. "Right. Naturally. Sorry. I get carried away sometimes. Costumer, that's what you are, can I interest you in a clock?"
Rolling her eyes, Chara crouched down, asking, "Are you familiar with a Blessed named Izra Tallamora?"
To her surprise, Rayne blinked, a wide grin spreading across her face as she seized Chara by the shoulders. "You know Izzy?"
"Izra," she corrected.
"Tomato, potato," Rayne dismissed.
"Yes, I know her," Chara groaned, the dread she'd felt manifesting fully. "I take it you do too, then?"
The Half Elf nudged her with an elbow, winking broadly. "You could say that we're familiar with each other. Intimately. If you catch my meaning. You do, right? Cause I'm not being very subtle here. Or at least I'm trying not to be. Sometimes it's hard for me to tell. Am I being too subtle? We've been intimate. How was that? Too indirect? We've fucked! No, wait, that was too crass. Wasn't it? I can't ever tell."
Chara snapped her goggles again, making her grimace, but at least she stopped rambling. "Are you with me?"
"I really wish you'd stop doing that," the Spellweaver groaned. "It smarts on my smarts."
"Stop acting like an idiot, then," the young woman replied. "Izra told me you do that to throw people off."
Rayne sighed, giving Chara a sidelong look. "So, you do know her, then."
"We hung out for a while the other day," Chara nodded. "Nice woman, Izra. I told her about you while we were getting a manicure. She laughed, and told me all about how you like to keep people off balance by acting crazy."
Giving her a sour look, Rayne crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not all an act. I really am a little crazy, though I prefer to think of it as eccentric. I tried going with mad genius for a while, but that didn't look good on my business cards."
"Rayne," Chara warned.
"Yeah, yeah," she said, pulling herself to her feet. "Damn Izzy, ruining all my fun."
"If it helps," Chara replied as she stood. "I think she only told me because she was hoping to get me in bed."
Rayne gave her another sidelong glare. "Did she?"
"No," Chara snorted. "I have a boyfriend, remember?"
Rayne made an elaborate gesture of her shrug. "Maybe he played along. Izzy likes that sometimes."
Chara blinked. "Did not need to know that."
"Anyway, I got your toys ready," the Half Elf said, waving her to follow. "I know where you got those, by the way, and don't think for a second I'm not curious what you were doing wandering around in the Savage Realm."
"I wasn't," Chara told her as she trailed after her. "I picked them up from someone who did, though."
Leading her behind the counter and back into her workshop, Rayne looked over her shoulder with a grin. "Imicot, yeah. I know."
Chara paused at the door. "How could you know that?"
"I told you before, Chara," the Half Elf replied with a wink. "I know a lot of things."
Frowning, Chara followed her through the door, muttering, "You're not crazy, you're just plain creepy."
"Energetic," Rayne told her, holding up a finger. "With a side of enigmatic."
"Whatever," Chara sighed.
"Oh, hey!" the tiny woman gasped suddenly. "Welcome to my workshop! This is where I make all the magic happen!"
Snapping her fingers, the room burst into light. It was remarkably cluttered, piles of this and that and other things scattered all over the place, none of which Chara could identify, but at least one of which was moving. Off to one side, some sort of machine was huffing and grinding, billowing steam at frequent intervals, while on the other, the wall was covered with half-finished drawings of more things Chara couldn't guess at. In the middle, brightly lit, was a small table and stool, scattered with papers, tools, a small statue of some sorts, and Chara's mystic handguns.
"Uh," Chara said slowly, pointing discreetly at the moving pile of debris. "What's going on with that?"
"What? That?" Rayne asked. "That's just Guido. Don't mind him."
"Rayne, it's a pile of crap that's moving."
"Yeah," she grinned, going over and patting it as it slid around her. "I think I may've dropped a few elixirs on him or something at some point. Maybe it was just over-exposure to the raw, naked, pulsating, power of magic. Or sex. It could be either. I'm good at both. Anyway, one day he gained sentience, so I named him Guido and let him clean the shop."
Chara looked at the piles of dust that had gathered in the corners, beneath heavy cobwebs. "Nice job he does, too."
The Half Elf shrugged. "He's a pile of junk named Guido. What do you expect?"
"Is he safe?"
"Doesn't have a mouth, so yeah."
"Right."
Rayne patted the pile of junk again, getting a weird, clattering shiver from it, before marching over to the worktable, waving Chara over. Skirting the odd mound as it continued shivering, Chara joined her, beginning to think Izra was just being polite, and Rayne was truly mad after all.
"Now these, they’re just cool," the Spellweaver said, holding up the mystic weapons. "I mean, I know stuff from the Savage Realm is way beyond anything we can do here, since their grasp of mystic energies is so far ahead of ours, but let me tell you, getting to really look at the enchantment weaving up close, it was something else. I'm serious. I wet my panties. Like, have to go change so I don't catch a cold, take a cold shower, put some cold ice between my legs and other things that involve cold just to be able to pull the lattice out and have a good look at it wet my panties."
Chara rubbed her eye. "Really?"
"No," Rayne laughed, giving her a playful shove. "I don't wear panties, silly!"
"I feel I should tell you that I understand only about a quarter of the things you say," Chara replied.
"Yeah, it's the curse of being misunderstood," the Half Elf sighed heavily. "Honestly, I only understand most of what I say myself. Some of it goes right over my head."
The young woman stared at her in annoyance. Rayne stared back in excitement. When Chara's expression didn't change, the Spellweaver tried sultry. Chara snapped her goggles again.
"Right, so, about your little toys," the Half Elf said after rubbing her forehead for a moment. "I noticed a few things while I was studying the mystic weave, like how it channels energy to fire, and it wasn't very efficient for a human to use, so I added my own bit of tweaking, as you can see."
"All I can see is that you added a piece of metal to the grip," Chara said.
Rayne looked at that for a minute. "You can't see the lattice?"
"No, Rayne, I can't," Chara snapped. "I'm not a mage."
"Oh, right!" she laughed. "I keep forgetting you're still you."
Chara cocked an eyebrow, realized she was emulating Ramora, and got annoyed for no reason she could name. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," the Spellweaver told her, waving it off. "Since you can't see the lattice of enchantments, I'll explain it using small words."
"I'm going to punch you in a second," the other woman warned her.
Rayne stuck her tongue out before continuing. "The manner in which mystic energy is converted from the charging crystal, through the lattice weave, and out the barrel here was inefficient, like I said, for a human to use, which makes sense, since these were designed to be used by Werefolk, which you aren't, and is why you have to use two hands, because it kicks like a horse in heat, so I added a trellis to the lattice that captures the kinetic energy of the discharge and feeds it back into the charging crystal, making the stored energy last longer, and reducing the kick to pretty much nothing."
Chara stared at her for a long moment. "I think I got most of that, but I have no idea how that works."
"All magic is energy," Rayne said. "Just like all energy is magic. Grannax wove all of creation from the energy that flowed through the Void, meaning all things that are solid are a form of energy trapped in a stable form. What it means, Chara, my pretty, is that all things come from the mystic energies of the Void, and all things return to the mystic energies of the Void. Once you understand that, you can channel any kind of energy, any way you want."
"Hold on," the young woman said, lifting a hand to keep the Half Elf from rambling. "If that's the case, then any mage could capture the energy another mage put into a spell, and use it to recharge their own Avatar."
Rayne gave her an impressed look. "In theory, yes, but that's a pretty advanced form of thinking coming from someone who isn't a spellcaster."
Chara shrugged. "My best friend is a Cleric, so I've picked up a little bit about mystic theory from talking to her."
"Excellent!" Rayne cried, waving her hands over her head. "As you said, a mage could capture the mystic energy of a spell and channel it into their own Avatar, at least, in theory. Much like with solid objects, once that energy has been channeled into a spell, it's, technically, being given form and function. Mystic energy is without either of these things until it's channeled, so while the theory holds, no mage has ever successfully managed it, because they would have to render the spell back into its base form of mystic energy first, which isn't something that is accomplished easily, or on the fly."
"Okay," Chara nodded, understanding for the most part. "So, tell me how this new trellis thing is going to make the weapon
kick less.”
"It's not breaking the kinetic energy back down into mystic energy on the fly," Rayne said, tapping the grip with her finger. "It's doing it through a series of enchantments I added to the lattice as a whole."
"I think I get it," the other woman nodded. "Though, now I'm back to wondering if you’re insane, or a genius."
"Bit of both," Rayne replied with a maniacal grin.
"Right," Chara sighed. "So, what's with the metal bits?"
"Ah, yes!" the Half Elf cried, sliding her hand around the grip, her forefinger passing through a loop of steel, while the rest of her fingers fit under the brace that ran from it to the base of the grip, leaving her thumb clear to press the firing rune. "It just makes it harder for someone to knock it out of your hand while giving you a better grip. I call it a handguard!"
"Ingenious," Chara deadpanned.
"I thought so," the Spellweaver said, using the mystic handgun to scratch her ear.
"So, they work now?"
"Yup!"
"Anyplace I can test fire them to be sure?"
"Out back."
"Let's go."
"Sure," Rayne nodded, then stopped. "No! Wait!"
Chara sighed. "What now?"
"I forgot something," the tiny Half Elf replied, gallivanting about the room as Guido chased her, clattering merrily. "It's here somewhere. Give me a second. I know I tossed it in this general direction. Or that one. I may have left it in my bed. Run up, get naked, and check for me, will you?"
"No," Chara said flatly.
"Fine, be a spoil sport," Rayne pouted. "You're the one missing out."
"Can we just go test them?" Chara pleaded.
Rayne reached down and stuck her hand in Guido, who shivered in what was either delight, or horror, and pulled out a belt. "There it is!"
"What is it?" Chara asked, feeling exhausted.
"Duh, a belt," Rayne told her as she slid over and pressed into Chara, slapping it around her waist and fastening it quickly. "How's that? Too tight?"
"No, it's fine," she said slowly.
"You look uncomfortable," the Spellweaver told her. "Figured I'd check."
Rise (War Witch Book 1) Page 39