Alexa Drey- Hero Hunting

by Ember Lane

  “Not my first magician,” he said, his grin now firmly etched on his face. His staff rose again.

  I let it come to me, but at the last minute whipped my own staff up, holding it across. His cracked onto mine, and his grin faltered. Absorbing his staff’s momentum, I let mine fall, and jumped up to one side, watching as Mezzerain overbalanced and lurched forward. I cast Zombie Claws again, but this time aimed it at his trailing foot. Again, a feeble root slithered from the ground grabbing at his ankle and tripping him up.

  Congratulations! You have upended a warrior using Zombie Claws. You have leveled up. You will now be able to summon more roots and trap up to 2 targets.

  Mezzerain stumbled forward, snapping the root in two, and managed to break into a roll, coming up ready, his staff primed. He was breathing heavily now, and he had a cut on his chiseled forehead. I cast Stitch and Stem and moved forward. The cut on his forehead instantly closed. He raised his eyebrows and growled his thanks. Within moments he was on me, a fury of blows that I countered one after the other.

  Casting Arcane Shield right in the midst of my chaotic defense, an egg-shaped shell of glimmering silver surrounded me, but Mezzerain’s staff bullied its way through it.

  “That’s a magical defense,” he grunted, as I continued to block his vicious strikes.

  Sneakily casting Stone Mirror right underneath him, I watched as his jaw fell open in surprise and he tumbled face forward. Standing, I raised my staff for the killing blow, but Mezzerain swiped out with his gauntlet-clad arm and upended me. So much for my gloating, I thought, as I crashed onto the rocky ground.

  “That was cheating,” he said, pushing himself up. “And lucky we weren’t sparring with swords else I might have just lunged.”

  “But I’ve got to practice casting on the fly,” I protested.

  “You seem to be doing just fine,” he muttered, jumping up and offering me his hand.

  We fought for another ten minutes. I tried to keep my Arcane Shield in place the whole time—though I knew it would offer no protection. I decided I needed to make it like a second skin and let it have 10 mana a minute to sustain itself. I cast Stone Mirror, Zombie Claws, and Solid Soul over and over, ignoring the notifications as they started to level.

  Noticing my mana reserves were running low, I tried Mana Transfer and was stunned when my pool refilled a bit.

  Congratulations! You have tapped into Mezzerain’s mana pool. You have leveled up Mana Transfer.

  “Now that was just plain rude,” Mezzerain shouted at me and lurched forward with a final blur of staff. Backing away, I cast Stone Mirror and Zombie Claws, but Mezzerain’s momentum backed me into a boulder, and his agility meant he could just skip out of the way. We ended the session how we always ended it, me in submission and him the victor.

  “That was the closest yet,” he said, his face close to mine, gasping for breath. “Keep on with that magic, and you’ll best me soon.” He pushed himself away, and trudged back to the cave.

  “What about swords?” I shouted after him.

  “I’ll send Star out,” he said. “I’m done for now."

  I leaned against the boulder, gasping for air myself. I’d leveled up all three defensive skills and gained one in Staff Fighting too. Mana Transfer was at level 5 now as well. I desperately wanted to try the attack skills, but wondered who I could direct them at.

  Star came out, and we practiced blades. Her nimbleness and incredible agility meant my early attempts at casting my Stone Mirror or Zombie Claws were futile, though I did notice the square of ground that became slippery had trebled in size and grew by a bit more when I leveled it to 4. I kept my Arcane Shield in place the whole time, and Star even teased it with a few low-level spells she had. Arcane Shield leveled fast and was soon at 6.

  “Do you have any spells you don’t want?” I asked her while we had a break, and when she asked why, I told her about the Acquire subskill. She sighed at the explanation, and I could tell it was a thing she desperately wanted.

  “The only way for me to have that is for you to have it and me to watch,” she moaned, after a moment’s consideration.

  We then spent a half hour picking each other’s pockets and trying to break into the other’s sack. I learned the most important trick wasn’t the actual pickpocketing, but having the guts to do it—not dithering, just going straight in. Distraction was also important, not a “Hello” or a cry of some kind, but a real thing that completely took the victim’s focus from you. This was almost certainly what I needed to do when I used Acquire. I had to distract the wizard I was going to steal from, and then go straight in and swipe the spell.

  “That’s why you can’t try and pickpocket me. It just wouldn’t work because I’d be on my guard.”

  I settled for just practicing, and before the end I had successfully relieved Star of a dagger from her sleeve holster without her feeling it too much. Sedge called from the cave’s entrance, and we both walked back up to it. Another watery broth awaited, but it was food, and I was starving.

  Midway through, I noticed Cathelina looking my stats up and down. “Not bad,” she said. “Has no one told you how to organize your stats so they aren’t a mess of information?”

  I told her no, and she just flashed her hand out and clawed at my brain. At least that’s what it felt like.

  “There,” she said. “Now look.”

  I pulled up my board.

  Name: Alexa Drey. Race: Human. Type: Chancer.

  Age: 24. Alignment: None. XP: 18,250.

  Level: 8. Profession: None. Un/Al pts: 0.

  Reputation: Known.

  Health Points: 550/550 Energy: 170/170

  Mana: 260/260 Shadow Mana: 0/750

  HP Regen: 55/Min EN Regen: 17/Min

  MA Regen: 19/Min SMA Regen: NA

  Attributes: Select to reveal

  Skills: Select to reveal

  Magic tree: Select to reveal

  Talents: Select to reveal

  Quests: Select to reveal

  I selected my Magic tree.

  Magic Tree

  Magic: (8, 5, 0, ∞), Spell Casting (8, 12, 0, ∞)

  Mana pool available : 260

  Shadow Mana allowed 750

  Healing branch: Level 5

  Subskill – Poultices and potions: (6, 44, 24)

  Subskill – Heal over Time: (6,10,10)

  Subskill – Group Heal: (5,85,10)

  Subskill – Solid soul: (4,60,10)

  Subskill – Mana Drain: (5,23,10)

  Subskill – Mana Transfer: (5,0,10)

  Subskill – Stitch and Stem: (6,55,10)

  Defensive branch: Level 4

  Subskill – Stone Mirror: (4, 15, 50)

  Subskill – Arcane Shield: (6,9,100)

  Subskill – Zombie Claws: (4,28,30)

  Attack branch: Level 1

  Subskill – Flame of Demon: (1, 0, 25)

  Subskill – Fork of Lightning: (1,0,60)

  Subskill – Quazede’s Trident: (1,0,50)

  Stealth branch: Level 1

  Subskill – Acquire: (1, 0, 50)

  “Better?” Cathelina asked.

  “Better,” I agreed, finishing up my broth.

  “Walk with me again?” Cathelina asked, and she got up, walking back toward the passageway. This time she vanished into the rock wall about halfway down. Taking a leap of faith, I followed her. My skin tingled as I passed through the rocky illusion and into a chamber beyond. It was a similar size and shape to the book room, except this had a single bed to one side, a desk pushed up against its opposite wall, and a mirror above.

  “We have these retreats,” Cathelina explained. “As Loremasters, much of our time must be spent in study, and study cannot be undertaken when distracted. Very much a part of the reason Marista holes up in that vale of hers is to research the ways of Lamerell—she has a room similar to this hidden within that wreck she calls a home. The wizards think she is always traveling, so it all works well.” Then Cathelina turned to me, and she pu
lled out a chair tucked under the desk. “We still communicate, all of us Loremasters. When I sensed she’d meddled with your mind, I…contacted her. She wants a word with you. In fact, she was most insistent.”

  “How?”

  Cathelina pointed at the mirror. “It’s a version of a mirror pool. Touch it, say her name, and if she can, she will answer.”

  Nerves suddenly took hold of me again. Why did Marista want me? Was it to scold me for running off? Or was it to scold me for fighting the demon, or the wizards, or the troll, banshees, or black cat? Yep, I was in trouble again, no doubt about it. I wanted to cast Solid Soul on myself, but just jabbed my hand out and touched the mirror quickly as if it was red hot. “Marista Fenwalker.”

  The mirror misted over into a fog resembling a billowing cloud of gray. Its wisps slowly separated, the tendrils vanishing and leaving behind a picture of a room. A large double bed took up its center with a scenic painting above. The bed was part made, with a tan blanket crumpled on its top. Clothes lay discarded all over the room, hung on the bed’s headboard, draped over a chair, and clinging to the edge of the bed.

  “Hold on!” a shout came from the room, but I couldn’t see anyone. I tried looking around the edge of the mirror but could see no more than was plain from the front. “Two ticks,” Marista’s voice rang out. “Just getting myself decent.”

  I took a deep breath, then jerked back as she suddenly came into view, clearly sitting at the table in front of her mirror. Marista leaned right in, and I half expected her head to poke through. She appeared to sniff the air.

  “Before you start making excuses, I’m not annoyed,” Marista said, sitting back. “Krakus is well and here with me in Brokenford, as is Shylan, Aezal, and Greman. I’m glad you called.” I did a double take at that. “Now,” Marista continued, “I’ll still need you to come to Beggle—no matter what—but this is important.” She cocked her head. “Are you listening?”

  “Yes,” I said, stiffly. Marista made me feel like I was back at school.

  “I wanted to check out that Lincoln Hart man that the old fools have put so much faith in, and I found out a couple of things. Did you know you were supposed to spawn in Brokenford?”

  “Yes, I…Lincoln told me.”

  “Then you’ll know that little mess up altered your fate significantly. In trying to cover his tracks, the clerk that messed it all up in the first place deleted your profile from the records. In short, you exist but you don’t.”

  “Oh…”

  “So, you’d best not die, as we don’t know if you’d come back.”

  I smiled at that. I knew something she didn’t. “It’s okay. I died twice and still came back fine.”

  Marista gasped. “When? The demon?”

  Nodding, I told her yes.

  “Did you feel any…ill effects?”

  “A bit groggy. Why? Isn’t that normal?”

  “Not in the slightest. It’s my understanding that when you players die, you do your penance on the slab, and take further punishment in the clepsydra.” She furrowed her brow and stroked her chin. “The fogginess is probably the land trying to recreate you and then finding out that you’re not supposed to be here. I wouldn’t be in a hurry to die again.”

  “Or I might die-die?”

  “Indeed, but that isn’t what I wanted to talk about. When Cathelina told me she’d teamed up with you, I’d just wrung out a little morsel of information about another player and the arbiter, Finequill. This Finequill is quite the nasty piece of work.”

  “Finequill?” I asked, then instantly thought; Wait, hang on! What part about me die-dying wasn’t the most important piece of this conversation? “Hold on, let’s get back to me dying…”

  “This is more important. It concerns a young lad called Pog.”

  My heart stopped, and my mouth sagged open. “Pog?”

  “Yes. We’ve heard you mention him, and it seems his path is linked to yours. Pog was sold by this Finequill character.”

  “Sold?” I was going to run to Brokenford and kill this Finequill—over and over if he was a player like me.

  “It’s a common practice in some lands. Immortals such as yourself fetch a pretty penny in the slave markets of Thrillian. Let’s be honest, you can be used and abused and you never die. Anyway, we’re getting off track.”

  “Off track! You just told me Pog’s a slave.”

  “I see you are still highly strung.” She leaned across the mirror as if she were trying to see around me and toward Cathelina. “You need to watch that. Sometimes she even stamps her feet.” Marista chuckled. Cathelina chuckled. I went to stamp my feet but thought better of it. “Your friend, Pog, was sold to a mountain family. According to Finequill’s ‘Under-the-counter’ ledger, he fetched a decent price. It seems they were desperate to get an undying, but wouldn’t tell Finequill why. Anyway, I scared the living daylights out of Finequill, and he ran. What I can’t work out though, is why a remote farmer would want one and be so desperate that he’d raise the gold and travel all the way to Brokenford to get it. Either way, does the name Tunpeg ring a bell?”

  For the second time, my heart stopped. “The third bed,” I whispered.

  “Third?”

  “Tunpeg is dead, and so is the whole family.” Cathelina butted in while I did my best to find my words.

  “Then we can only assume that the boy, Pog, did whatever they wanted, and it’s not unreasonable to assume he retrieved something that they couldn’t,” Marista mused.

  “Which means?”

  “It’s a stretch,” Marista told me, “but I think this thief and your little Pog are one and the same.”

  My heart stopped for the third time.

  23

  Cathelina’s Gifts

  A numb feeling crawled through me. I knew Marista was right. The name Tunpeg, the third bed, and the need to use one of us to search out something all pointed to Pog. Pog: I remembered his sweet little face smiling up at me when we were aboard the Grav Buster. “It’s got dwarves, goblins, wizards, and dragons!” he’d said, his eyes beaming at me, so full of hope, so full of life.

  What had this damned land done to him? It had sold him into slavery the minute he’d gotten here. I didn’t know this Finequill—I’d never met him, but in that room, I vowed to exact Pog’s revenge on him. The mirror clouded over, Marista vanished, and I felt Cathelina’s hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

  “Must be hard to take,” she whispered.

  I felt my anger boiling, gathering, and I felt my shadow mana rushing into its empty pool. I crackled with power; my vengeance having nowhere to go. Cathelina began massaging my shoulders, clearly trying to get me to relax. She whispered in my ear, but I heard none of her words.

  My shadow mana threatened to spill over. I tried to contain it, imagining a bowl and trying to keep it steady. Breathing evenly, I visualized the bowl emptying, dissipating back into my body. I understood that this black mana, this black magic was just a product of my anger. Yet didn’t this land deserve my ire? Didn’t it deserve to be cracked again, to have its valleys laid waste, its city’s flattened? Slowly, I absorbed the dark mana.

  Congratulations! You have mastered your darker side. Shadow mana is a complex part of your balance, but needs to be controlled. You have shown it who is the master, and who is the slave. You are granted Magic – Level 9. The mastery of your mana is an important step to becoming who you can be. You will now be able to martial your mana better. You are also granted Spell Casting – Level 9.

  “Here,” Cathelina said, and threw me a towel.

  Sweat was dripping from my brow, and my energy had plunged. I toweled myself dry. “They sold him.”

  “It’s not a perfect world, none of it is, but he escaped.”

  “Did he? How did he know to go to Shyantium? Or did he escape just for someone to take him again?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see. I saw him from a distance, but that was all.”

  “Wait. What? You saw Pog?”


  Cathelina pulled me up and led me to her bed. “I saw a boy watching his grandma burn. At the time that’s all I thought I’d seen. I’d been away and only returned for Grandma Lumin’s pyre. I should have seen it. He was watching from the pigpen, hiding.”

  I glared at her. “Yes, you should have.”

  “He must have found the bane.”

  I nodded, wondering and knowing at the same time that Crags’ words had been true. Pog, The Thief, he had found something of great importance, and it was, most likely, leading him to Shyantium.

  “But is he free?” I asked again.

  “That we don’t know. We can only carry on as we planned. We’re still pursuing The Thief…”

  “But it’s Pog now,” I whispered. “It’s even more important.”

  Cathelina reached forward and plucked a small wooden box from the table. She teased its lid open. Though I could hardly make out what was inside, I felt creeping power coming from it.

  “I should have gone to the little boy—should have seen if he was all right, but…”

  “But? But what?” I spat, my anger at the injustice of it all boiling up again.

  “Loremasters—we aren’t allowed to interfere. Guide—yes, we can do that. We can coax, and we can instruct, but we aren’t allowed to directly intervene. It is Lamerell’s way.”

  “Is that why Marista just bosses from afar?”

  Cathelina shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Then what use are you?”

  She dipped her fingers in the box. “A time will come. Lamerell will change our path. In the meantime, we will help all that walk it.”