POV Natalia Talios

  There was peace to be found amid frenetic combat. Within its hallowed conflict, Natalia didn’t need to worry about what others thought or the worries and cares of the day. In battle, there was only time to react, the only thoughts in her head being what she needed to do to survive and no others. Such was the case in conflicts between higher tiers.

  Her team darted around her, the tank Gisham making sure to draw the majority of the attention with his roars and posturing. Her friend, Aliria, stayed back a ways from the melee to shoot her bow. The rhythmic thunk of well-placed arrows rang out rapidly as they found their mark. Boris, their combat magus, darted in and out of melee range, his arms wreathed in flames that he used to devastating effect.

  The only other member was one that Natalia couldn’t see apart from momentary flashes as the rogue dipped in and out of shadows. Korim was like a ghost, flitting from place to place with a lithe grace that never ceased to impress her. Natalia herself was both the leader of the merry band and their healer. This did not mean she played a purely supporting role, however. With a strong Life Affinity, she was less reliant on ambient Aether to sustain her spells, and as a Silver-Core, she could take almost as much punishment as their tank could and with less armor.

  She was a physical healer by definition, with little in the way of ranged healing. Almost every spell in her repertoire required her to be touching her target, which was made incredibly more dangerous by the type of monster they were facing. Like a mad splicing of bear and ape, the Abigu was a true monster. Even as they darted in and around its ten-foot frame, she could feel the hungry pull of its core.

  This one must have crystallized relatively recently because there was no other reason why it wouldn’t be stronger than this. Not that it being a high silver was weak by any means. But a normal Abigu was only low silver, possibly even high bronze. With a monster’s capability to consume Aether, it would have been gold within a few weeks, especially in the Sylcyne Forest, where life was plentiful. It wasn’t a stretch, therefore, to say they had caught it at a good time.

  She darted under a swing of the Abigu’s eight-foot arm to slam her mace into the creature’s knee with a satisfying crunch. It howled in agony and the pull of its core intensified, causing a small patch of grass to wither away around its stomping feet. With an ease born of intense practice, Natalia kept her Aether tightly held within her Crystalline Core, her Silver Rank more than enough to keep the monster’s Aether Gravitation at bay.

  That was the danger you faced when fighting real monsters. Depending on the strength of the monster, you could find yourself subject to Withering, your natural Aether reserves being ripped from you violently. The stronger the monster, the faster it occurred. There were legends of Platinum Rank monsters who could wither entire cities in a matter of minutes. The only defense was having a core of your own. Even then, strict Aether discipline was necessary. It was the reason they trained that skill above every other.

  A pained grunt from Grisham had her ducking around the creature and deflecting one of its arms upward even as she clasped arms with the tank in a familiar, well-practiced movement. Life Affinitied Aether flooded from her and into Grisham, topping him off and snapping his dislocated shoulder back into place. Just in time for him to catch another smashing blow on his shield.

  The creature was almost finished. High silver though it was, Natalia and her team were mid-silver and more than its match. An arrow from Aliria spelled the beginning of the end. With a wet squelch, it sank into the creature’s eye. A dagger toss from Korim and the shaft of the arrow shattered, leaving the arrowhead within the monster’s cranium.

  With impressive fortitude, the creature kept on fighting, but it was clear that something internal had been severely damaged. Without the ability to remove the offending metal of the arrow, there was no way for the Abigu to utilize its monstrous healing as it had for the more surface area wounds. It slowed, and the team ripped it apart with Boris closing in to set it aflame and Korim ending it with a well-placed dagger to the back of its head.

  The Abigu collapsed like a tree being felled, its bulk causing the ground to shudder. The team stood for a moment, taking deep breaths to recover. They didn’t immediately move toward the corpse and followed protocol. It wasn’t the first time a Delver team had killed a monster only to have another one charge out after they had finished with the first.

  After a moment, Korim gave Natalia a nod, and she motioned for Boris to collect the core. Nine times out of ten, the monster’s core shattered, but this time it seemed they had been in luck. An intact core meant they could save the meditation for after they had secured a place to sleep for the night. A shattered core would have meant mediating in shifts to make sure they collected what Aether remained, even as it dissipated into the surrounding air.

  As Boris finished excavating the crystal from the creature’s chest, the group closed in on him to see the results. It was large, but they had expected it to be the case. Roughly a foot in length, tall and a third of that wide, it was an impressive specimen. Like all monster cores, it was a jagged and barbaric thing with the remnants of the Spark still in place as protrusions of the main crystal, like lightning had been frozen in time.

  Grisham whistled, seemingly impressed. “That there will fetch a pretty penny when we get back, even after it’s been drained.” The others nodded.

  “Boris,” Natalia said, watching the man’s gaze flick to her, “Go ahead and sever the Spark ends. We’ll turn them into Chits.”

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  “You got it, boss,” the man nodded in understanding, giving a mock salute.

  Natalia just smirked at him, rolling her eyes. As Aliria came over to get her own view of the core, Natalia made her way over to where Korim was observing the surrounding woodland. She gave him a raised eyebrow, and he answered the unspoken question as he had for the past few days.

  “We’re getting closer.” When that answer didn’t lower the eyebrow, he sighed. “Natalia, it takes time to travel in a forest of this size and age. The Sylcyne is ancient and full of Aether. I can’t get a read on the exact distance, and the deeper we get, the harder it is becoming.”

  Natalia frowned. They were getting closer; she could feel it. “Could it be a dampening array?” She asked, some of her frustration coming out with the question. Korim turned his head casually to crack his neck, something he did when he was thinking.

  “Perhaps,” He said after a moment. “To be honest, I’ve never had to test my senses against one, so I wouldn’t know. Most dungeons never use them, so I haven’t been trained to seek them or anything in one. The forest is making this hard enough without wizardry being added to it. ” He turned to her and took in her expression. “Why?” He asked, suddenly serious. “What are you thinking about?”

  Natalia didn’t answer for a moment. Eventually, “I don’t know. Just a hunch, something my grandfather let slip a long time ago. He had always wanted to see the Far North Reaches, claiming they held secrets the rest of the world and academia had forgotten.” She sighed and gave Korim a fake smile she knew he would see through. “Just jumping to conclusions, as usual. Let me know if you sense anything or if it gets more difficult.”

  Without waiting for his reply, she called back over her shoulder to the rest of her group. “Half an hour's rest and then we move. Korim says we’re getting closer.” She ignored the shared looks between them and dove into her pack for her canteen. Taking a long drink, she fought a sudden pang of loss, fighting to keep it from showing.

  Soon, Grandpa, soon. I’ll find out what happened to you and clear your name. And mine.

  POV Cormac Torgir

  “Cormac Torgir!” The stern and loud voice of Dialgar of the Slua Sidhe echoed in the open chamber deep in the heart of the Mother Tree. The Fae towered over his lesser brethren, glaring down at the Leprechaun bound before him. For his part, Cormac was subdued, as he had been since leaving the dungeon and after having bound himself to one of the Tall-Folk gods. His eyes were hollow as he lifted his eyes to meet the greatest member of their dwindling community.

  “You are accused of antagonizing a local dungeon with the intention of claiming it for yourself, leading dozens of your fellow Fae to death in said dungeon, and thus enacting treason against this community and Mother Tree. How do you plead?” The Fae continued before Cormac had even opened his mouth. “Know that any plea you give forth will not stay our judgment of you, but if you have any information you wish to give to this council to soothe the ache of the pain you have caused, do so now.

  Cormac simply shook his head, too weary of soul to muster the energy to respond. He was broken and he knew it. Not even the pulsing power dwelling within his chest was enough to bring him out of his state of mind. His ambitions were spent except for one. His gaze found his fiancée Fiona, and he gave her a sad smile that matched the tears streaming down her face. His last remaining ambition flared at seeing her, and he once again swore that if he somehow survived his sentence, he would be marrying that woman.

  “Then we sentence you to Reclamation and Dissolution.” Dialgar’s words brought a tide of chatter that echoed through the chamber, though Cormac only had ears for the choked sob that sprang unbidden from Fiona’s mouth. He couldn’t blame her, as even his heart had frozen over at the words. Reclamation and Dissolution. The capital punishment left over from the Fae Courts of the Other.

  Reclamation was when a Fae’s Inheritances were stripped away and absorbed by the Mother Tree. It left the Fae in question without their legacy, effectively stripping them of their place in Fae society and the Path of Ascension. Banishment was a lesser punishment in comparison. At least then, they were still Fae and not a hollow shell. Dissolution was even worse. After being Reclaimed, the Fae individual would be forcefully subjected to the Mother Tree’s central Aether Heart. There, they would be overcome by the Aether content and gradually dissolve back into the Dust from which their seeds were born.

  Cormac had little time to react at all before the seed of power within his chest flared with power, sending a ripple through the chamber. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” He heard his voice state with calm indifference. “This vessel is one I have spent a good deal of Potential on. I would hate to lose it so soon.” What Cormac couldn’t see and what the other Fae had a front-seat view of was the change that took over the Leprechaun.

  Green light erupted from his eyes to mix with golden light that gradually formed horns above the bearded little man. His threadbare clothes shifted into green robes with gold and black accents. A black shirt and soft, deep green pants completed the ensemble. Knee-high boots formed around his naked feet before forming golden buckles in the shape of two curved horns. The chains around his hands melted into gold dust that then formed golden clasps that clamped themselves around his forearms.

  Dialgar was before Cormac immediately in a flash of red-black energy, sword raised to strike. The Slua Sidhe’s face was twisted in a rage Cormac had never before seen. Not even when he had been declaring Cormac a traitor. Cormac didn’t feel his arm flash upward, but he saw it when it stopped the blade mid-swing. His other arm caught the Fae before him in a backhand that catapulted the Stage 4 into the Mother Tree’s wood with a crunch that shook the inner chamber.

  “Now, now, none of that. The adults are going to talk for a while.” It was strange to hear his voice take on that cold, imperious tone. Cormac was still bewildered, but he gradually began recovering even as his mouth spoke. “To those of you who don’t know, let me introduce myself.” He felt his mouth twist into a sardonic smile and his body bowed with a flamboyant air. “I am Trik’Weri, High Spirit of Mischief and Promises that Bind.” He felt himself rise from the bow and give a rakish wink that made Cormac cringe inwardly. “Now, how about we have a little talk, Alu’Mira? It’s been a long time.”

  Cormac watched, stunned, as the wood in front of them split, revealing a golden light. Motes of golden Dust coalesced into a feminine form that caused the Fae gathered in the chamber to fall to their knees in awe and respect. The tone of the words that emanated from the Voice of the Mother was tired. “Trik’Weri,” it acknowledged. “The Mother will speak to you. There is much to speak of, not the least of which is the claiming of one of her children as a High Priest.”

  Cormac felt his mouth go metaphorically dry even as his voice answered the Voice. “Yes, yes, that will be explained. All will be settled. Let’s be off.” His hands slipped into the pockets of his robes as his body strolled into the golden slit that had opened in the wood of the Mother Tree’s trunk. In a flash, they were gone from the room and the stunned Fae who were gathered there.