Blue Core Week Forty-Two (Patreon)

Day 134 - Sienne

Classers manned the walls in pockets of three and four and five. Adventuring parties, the most basic unit of coordination. Duos like her and Giorn were unusual, and too small for something like this where they couldn’t pick their battles, so they’d ended up paired with a couple of solo Classers. Cheya herself had advised them they were reliable, since it was entirely possible one or the other of them would need to be deputized temporarily. As Crown Marshalls they had that much latitude.

“Wen Aren, level forty-two [Deadeye Archer],” said the first one to introduce himself. He was young for his level, which probably meant nobility or at least wealth. People with backing like that could just throw themselves into dungeons or mana springs for weeks on end, resupplied and cared for by one of the Classer groups that offered such services. Wen also looked nervous, all knees and elbows and restless energy, plus he kept putting his hand on a bow of glittering vermillion horn that was clearly some sort of heirloom.

“An Aren? Out of Tacharni?” Giorn asked, and Sienne glanced over at him when Wen nodded shyly. She hadn’t spotted anything familiar about the name or the features of the young man, but Giorn was actually far more well-traveled than she. She didn’t even recognize the name of the territory or kingdom Giorn named, but it seemed he’d gotten it right first try.

The summer-kin, on the other hand, she did recognize. At least the generalities. They hailed from the continent of Tekal, which was about as far away from Tarnil as it was possible to get, and at least by reputation didn’t much venture away from their crystal plains. Adventurers, though, ended up everywhere.

“I’m Krishma Ben,” the summer-kin introduced herself. “Level fifty-five [Druid of the Living Lands].” Sienne raised an eyebrow at that. The Class title was closer to fourth tier than third, but that was probably part of why Krishma was out here in the middle of this mess instead of among her people. Along with excess power came those who wanted to use it.

“Sienne Ell,” she replied. “Forty-nine, [Void Rapier Inheritor].” Aren flinched, but Krishma just looked blank. Maybe they didn’t have void Affinity out by the summer lands.

“Giorn Ell,” her husband added cheerfully. “Fifty one [Verun-Style Kinetic Champion].” This time it was Aren’s turn to look ignorant, as Krishma gave Giorn a respectful nod. The Verun style had a long and storied history, but not locally. She wasn’t too surprised a traveler from another continent recognized it.

“We’re Crown Marshalls,” Sienne showed her badge, glimmering silver light that it was. “So for the moment you’re operating directly under Iniri’s authority. We likely won’t have that much to do with the defense itself, but we are going to be keeping a close eye for any trouble inside the courtyard.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aren said, touching his bow by reflex.

“We’ll choose targets if necessary,” Giorn rumbled. “Kill or disable is at your discretion. If there are traitors we’d prefer to keep them alive, but not if we’re risking anything important.”

“Understood,” said Krishma with a little bow, her fingers trailing over the leafy ends of her shawl which, Sienne realized after a moment, was a whole living plant.

“I can lend you some punch for your bow,” Giorn added, to Aren. “But mostly I hit things.”

“And I’m anti-spell and last resort kills,” Sienne added. She preferred not to have to use her sword, but she might well need to. Giorn actually had a whole bandolier of rapiers, in addition to the three on her belt, just in case. None of her weapons survived more than one or two uses of her Skills.

It had been some time since the two of them had made these sorts of introductions, one Classer to another, discussing approaches and capabilities. Usually they were made with a status sigil around, for transparency and ease of discussion, but there weren’t any of those available. Aren was, of course, a sharpshooter, while Krishma’s plant control would be excellent for grappling. Of the four of them, only Aren might be useful in long-range combat, but considering the sheer scale of the approaching army the number of arrows he had were a limiting factor.

“Advance scouts have been spotted.” Iniri’s voice carried throughout the Fortress. “Ranged Classers, feel free to engage. Blue will be highlighting and engaging his own targets.”

“Well, that’s not us unless you want to take a trip,” Giorn said. Sienne chuckled. Their version of ranged was when he threw her into the air with his Skills. Between his Affinity, his brute strength, and the leverage of the trees he tended to use, that was actually pretty far.

Aren strung his bow, and the four of them stared out into the darkness. Sienne stretched her senses out, trying to locate the pockets of mana that might represent monsters, somewhere in the night. Amusingly enough, to her at least, she found one before any of the ranged Classers started firing, a hundred yards out and high in the air. Then there was a flare of light and the point of mana faded, a corpse dropping onto the lit ground outside the walls.

That was probably Blue’s doing. Shayma had mentioned a low-mana light weapon, and she surely didn’t feel any extra mana from whatever had put a hole in the monster. She squinted out at the blue-and-green striped body. It was absolutely the same sort of monster that they’d run into when trying to find Shayma after the invasion. The squad had been pretty damn rough to deal with, too. She’d had to spend two swords on them.

A sudden shock of purple light blazed outward from another Classer, homing in on a point in the air not far from the first kill. It illuminated a dark form for a brief moment, then dispersed without any effect that she could see. That didn’t much surprise her; level thirty-something monsters were no joke and a good number of Classers here were barely into their second tier. Whatever the spell was supposed to do, it apparently didn’t have enough power to manage it.

Then Aren loosed an arrow at something, a quick flash of movement and a soft hiss of displaced air. Somewhere far out it must have hit something, because he grunted in satisfaction. Other sounds and lights came from along the wall as people took potshots at things out in the dark, but soon enough the order came to cease fire.

Sienne could sense it. There were hundreds of points of monster-mana out there. Taking them on one at a time just wasted resources and mana, especially if Blue could attack them with his own resources.

“Illuminating,” Iniri’s voice came. “Mind your eyes.”

Since Iniri was a Queen it was easy to forget she was also a third-tier light mage. A fourth-tier probably could have turned night to day, but the ribbon of silver that darted through the sky was a good start on it. It flashed and cast brilliant light down on dozens of square miles of field and forest, and an uncountable number of monsters.

“We’ll be making an assault in a few minutes. Classers, be ready but do not leave the Fortress.”

Sienne wasn’t entirely certain what kind of assault could be carried out without sallying forth, though she wasn’t going to go out to confront that horde. It wasn’t just a swarm, which would have been chilling enough. Instead there were companies, regiments, battalions. Spellcasters and soldiers, not to mention a hovering swarm of airborne versions, darting this way and that overhead.

Then the entire fortress seemed to sway, and she realized it was lifting off the ground, flying toward the incoming column before the monsters were ready to actually fight. The fortress even smashed into them, sending bodies flying and snapping impromptu magical shields. Fire erupted on both sides, spells splashing down onto the packed ranks of mantis-things and splattering harmlessly against the protection of the Fortress.

Lava and water vomited forth from somewhere under the Fortress, and she knew that was Blue, since it didn’t carry any Affinity. In fact, it seemed to clear away some of the haze of hanging mana that clouded mana perceptions of all sorts, displacing lingering magic. Fire and water casters alike took advantage of the raw resources, blades of ice and whirlwinds of fire cutting into the massed monsters.

Aren and Krishma both took the chance to exercise their own Skills, with Aren’s bow firing in steady rhythm and Krishma’s hands flexing, trees in the distance coming to life and wreaking havoc behind the front lines. Neither Sienne nor her husband had anything they could do for the moment but watch, though she kept one hand on the sword at her hip and the other on the pouch at her side.

It was a one-sided slaughter for long, long minutes. The monsters couldn’t get through the boundaries of the fortress, so everyone was free to simply direct as much mana or stamina as they could at the crowds of monsters below. The ground churned, the air boiled, and explosions burst among the packed bodies.

Not that the monsters were mindless or even dumb. The enormous column in the distance halted and spread out, casters in the rear started projecting shields and counterspells while the melee types starting cutting down conjured beasts and summons. The occasional black or white bolt smashed into the sides of the Fortress, but it was clear that nothing was getting through it.

By the time they pulled back out of range, there were thousands of monsters dead. The land beyond the Fortress was a churned desert pocked with smouldering lava and boiling water, peppered strange sculptures of ice and haunted by forms of shadow. Yet, beyond that, thousands still remained, still appearing from the night.

The Fortress drifted back away from the battlefield, inviting the monsters to come closer. They didn’t. These weren’t the mindless things found in Great Dungeons, or even the clever beasts from Mana Springs. They were fully intelligent and, despite being taken by surprise, they did not panic or run or attack. They paused and assessed in good order, clearly digging in beyond the devastation.

For all their initial assault had killed, it didn’t seem to have made one bit of difference.

“Summoners, disruption.” It wasn’t Iniri’s voice but it carried the same ring. Krishma muttered something under her breath and waved a hand at the untouched grassy sward on this side of the devastation, one of the trees there growing enormous and uprooting itself before making for the battle line. Hers wasn’t the only construct either, stone and even air or dirt golems stumping forward to attack the blooming encampment. Sienne hopped back onto her husband’s shoulders, seeing that there was little she needed to be on her feet for. Besides, she was more mobile that way.

The brewing front wasn’t enough to stop the rest of the army from pouring left and right, moving through or mowing down trees. Some casters, whether by instruction or of their own accord, focused on those leading elements but only succeded in reducing the pressure on the encampment. There were just too many monsters.

The same voice cracked out at several points along the wall, lashing out against the Classers that had changed targets, and Sienne snorted. Adventurers weren’t soldiers and never would be, so it was frankly surprising they were taking orders as well as they were. It was a wonder nobody had left the walls yet, suicidal as that would be.

Her perception spread over the fortress as she tracked what was going on. She didn’t have mana sight and so couldn’t track every last strand of every casting in the fortress courtyard, but her sensitivity meant she could get a general idea of what was going on in a wide area, unencumbered by needing to actually see any of it.

The most potent sources of magic nearby, aside from the Fortress itself, were several rituals being conducted by groups of esoteric caster Classes. She didn’t know if they were direct attacks or meant to support the bombardment, but there was a remarkable amount of mana being poured into them. The natural mana density of Blue’s surroundings helped, providing that little bit of extra potency to everything.

She frowned. Among all the skills and spells and shifting mana, there was a note that felt off. Her mana perception was aimed at absence rather than presence, even though she didn’t use her void Affinity. It gave her a unique perspective that she’d learned to trust, and right now it was telling her something was wrong. Giorn noticed.

“What is it, love?” His voice was pitched low, under the distant noises of battle and closer noises of Skills being loosed. The distinct sounds of dozens of Skill became a chaotic burble of displaced air.

“There’s an offensive ritual that’s not aimed outward.” She twisted and peered down at the courtyard. “Somewhere down there.”

“Hang on,” Giorn said grimly, and launched himself off the wall, plummeting forty feet downward to land lightly in the middle of the casters. His Skills cushioned the movement, turning the leap into an easy stroll. Krishma and Aren landed a moment later, using their own Skills to make the jump. People looked up at them, but Sienne paid them no mind as she focused on the source of the hole she’d felt.

Then came the reek of mind magic, exploding over a group of third-tiers. Her hand dove into the pouch at her waist, grabbing a handful of ash and hurling it into the air. [Void Implement] crackled through the cloud, priming it for her Skills a fraction before the caster, whom she still hadn’t located, threw caution to the wind and ignited the almost-finished ritual.

Magic lanced out at the same time [Spellflayer] flared outward from the ash, shredding every fragment of mana. A cascade of spines wrought from utter emptiness bloomed into existence, a malevolent flower that everyone flinched away from. But the void was not aimed at flesh or matter, only mana, and left those unfortunates caught within whole. It was their rituals and half-formed Skills that were destroyed.

Unfortunately [Spellflayer] hadn’t gotten everything.

“Crown Marshall!” she said, holding up her badge in a no longer ash-smeared hand. “Mind magic!” Sienne was glad that Iniri had given them such obvious marks of authority, considering the variety of hostile expressions that turned her way. Most of them were just normal outrage from what she’d just done, but she’d caught the mind-magic ritual snagging several Classers. “Everyone, disable,” she added, pointing at the ones she knew were still under the influence.

Things seemed to move in slow motion. She launched herself off Giorn’s shoulder as he darted forward with unreasonable haste, aiming at some sort of fire caster while she targeted someone in heavy armor. Sienne would have much preferred to go after the source, but the traitor probably had little to no mana left and the target was already drawing his sword.

She didn’t know whether the mind magic was direct control or hallucination, but the poor man activated a Skill and gutted a neighboring caster who was still staring at Sienne. A crunch came from somewhere behind her as Giorn flattened his first target, and she knew he was probably already halfway to his second one. Her options for dealing with violent Classers were rather more limited, if she didn’t want to kill them.

Fortunately, she wasn’t alone.

Vines blasted past her, wrapping around the armored Classer and pinning him in place, keeping him from any further mischief before she cannoned into him. Sienne grabbed another handful of ash, slapping it against the struggling man’s cheek and smearing it over his skin. The ash flashed black as she activated her chain of Skills to purge the magic with [Curse Breaker].

It wasn’t a Skill she used on people that often. She had mostly trained it on items with unfortunate Affinities, or dangerous objects deep in dungeons or mana springs. But even without practice it was the work of a moment to hammer tendrils of void mana into the tangled magics inside him.

He shrieked and toppled, probably traumatized by having all his passive Skills disrupted, but at least he’d be free of the mind magic. She sprang back, glancing around to check her targets, and noticed a shadow rise from the floor to wrap around someone dressed in green and blue. The Queen’s hound. She could tell from the feel of the mana involved that Cheya had taken things in hand, and since the person wasn’t one of the ones the mind-magic had snapped into, he had to be the culprit.

Freed of that worry, she sprinted to the woman Giorn had crushed to the floor, who was fairly well unconscious, her clothes torn and covered in bark bits from one swat of Giorn’s weapon. This time she only needed to dip her finger in the ash, being able to mark the woman’s skin with it under less duress. She was glad the stuff worked for [Void Implement], since trying to interact with void mana directly meant someone was losing something important, and ash was both cheap and plentiful. The victim was too out of it to even react as the ash flashed black, void mana shattered the lingering bonds of external magic, and the ash vanished along with a chunk of skin as [Void Implement] consumed the last of it.

A concussion blew her hair away from her face and ruffled the fur of her tail as Giorn finally disarmed a third-tier that probably had a good ten levels on him. Not merely disarmed, but sending the unfortunate’s polearm somewhere into the night beyond the wall. That wasn’t coming back. She moved onto the next target, pinned to the ground with a number of Aren’s arrows and grappled by Krishma’s vine-cloak grown huge, wrapping around the man as he struggled against it. A white-robed girl rushed out to start attending people, someone that Sienne recognized as that Healer friend of Shayma’s.

Besides the man her first target had gutted and the victims themselves, another five Classers were sporting lacerations from whatever Giorn’s opponent had done and three were stretched out on the fortress floor a dozen feet away, looking scorched. At a glance all the injured parties were first or second tier, and the four affected Classers were all third tier or near it, but it was clear none of them had been expecting an attack from inside the fortress.

Sienne hurried over as Giorn pinned the man’s arms behind his back, listening to him spit incoherent threats to imaginary monsters, glad that she hadn’t needed to use any of her swords. She would have, if it were necessary, as much as it turned her stomach to use [Void Rapier] against a fellow Classer, but Giorn’s kinetic Affinity meant he was quite capable of punching people into submission instead. Broken bones and bruised flesh healed, what the void took did not.

Another two applications of [Curse Breaker] and she was feeling more or less spent. It was by far her most demanding Skill, and the newest one in the [Void Inheritor] Class, added to the Class line only three generations ago. It greedily guzzled down Stamina and strained mental faculties, but it was absolutely worth it though, for what it could do. Otherwise they would have needed to wait for the mind magic to run its course and for the affected Classers’ own mana to throw off the effects.

“What was he thinking?” Giorn asked, offering his arm for support as she straightened up from the last victim and making way for the other Classers helping the healer. “There was no way he could get away with it, or even do that much damage.”

“Distraction?” She shrugged. “I don’t know why anyone would support the mage-kings in the first place.”

“You know very well why,” he said dryly, and she grimaced. The house of Ell was a relatively recent cadet branch from a rather more illustrious family, far across the ocean. One of the reasons she’d stayed on this one was a distaste of the political maneuvering involved, especially for those who could safely wield void Affinity. Even from the perspective of the child she’d been at the time, the firshand view of what people would do for power had left a bad taste in her mouth.

A bone-jarring explosion made her flinch. It came not from the courtyard or another traitor, but from the transparent dome of the Fortress above, where some massive spellcasting from the monsters had impacted the defenses. To no apparently effect, other than the noise and a lingering cloud of bright-white haze.

She had no idea how the Fortress worked for it to not even flicker from such an assault, but she was glad. By the look and feel of things that would have been very unpleasant. Additional thumps and whines and one highly unpleasant high pitched ringing announced the interception of other spells, other assaults. Different Affinities began to hang thick in the air, making any scrying difficult and hampering mana-sight and mana-sense.

Nobody came to demand an accounting of their actions, aside from a few shocked lower-tier Classers that both she and Giorn ignored. Aren went to talk to them, and Krishma just hovered while Giorn prowled around. They all kept one eye on her for a cue if any other mischief was forthcoming, but the reduced number of rituals and Skill invocations seemed innocent enough.

For a time nothing particularly notable occured. Blue’s regeneration refilled the mana of those who had spent themselves during the earlier battles, as well as her own stamina reserves, as higher-tier magics clashed. The Fortress moved, now and again, but never reproducing that very first rush of carnage. Apparently the same trick wasn’t going to work twice.

As the night dragged on, the exchanges settled into a sort of rhythm. Casters would finish a ritual and call down lightning or fire or collapse the earth in the direction of one of the encampments, which the monsters would block with their own spellcasters, or in some cases they’d scatter. Whatever was going on behind enemy lines was obscured by a dark haze, which was only to be expected. She’d have done the same, given access to extra mages.

“It’s awful hard to tell with the Queen’s light, but I expect we’ll see false dawn soon,” Aren said, leaning on the parapet of their wall.

“I’ve been controlling these trees for hours,” Krishma said, tangling her fingers in the leaves of her shawl. “It’s been amazing for my Skills, but I’m exhausted. Even with this regeneration. Not to mention that those mantis-things are dug in now and I can’t get near them.” She sighed. “They uprooted my awakened forest too, though that’s not much of a surprise.”

Sienne sympathized. Even with stamina topped off she was still feeling the drain of being awake the whole night, which made her wonder how the Queen was holding up. Iniri was controlling the whole Fortress, not to mention still spotlighting the monster army with her magic. Already the lower-tier Classers were starting to take shifts, vanishing into the barracks buildings to catch some sleep between assaults.

Somewhere in the monster encampment they had set up bells, and the sounds drifted across to the Fortress at intervals, soft and high and sweet. The noise was eerie and out of place and spoke of nothing good, though she couldn’t sense any particular magic carried with the peals. She still disliked it.

Suddenly there was a surge of power from the open air behind her, somewhere out in the courtyard, and she spun fast enough that her hair whipped Giorn across the face. Cued to her senses, Aren and Krishma joined her at the inner rail, looking down over the open space that now held maybe a quarter of the Classers as it had earlier in the battle. Or siege, as it was now.

Unlike the first attempt at sabotage, there was no real feel of Affinity to what she sensed, simply a disturbance in the nearby mana. A potent one, though, like a chill mountain wind. Her hand went to the pouch of ash by habit, but there was no actual spellwork to disrupt, just the pressure of something changing.

“I don’t know what’s about to happen, but it’s going to be big,” she warned, drawing her sword. Some other Classers had noticed the disruption themselves, turned to face the vague area where pressure was mounting. The Fortress shifted, moving this way and that, but didn’t leave behind the disturbance.

“Beware,” Shayma’s voice came, amplified. “Blue has identified an incoming spell from Tor Kot himself. It is spatial in type, but he cannot discern any further details yet.” Hearing her daughter speak in such official and serious tones was more than a little surreal for Sienne. Especially since she was just as bright and cheerful as ever in private, with no evidence at all of being a Power’s voice.

There was a cracking, tearing noise, echoing strangely and with no regard for the actual physical surroundings, and a white crack tore itself open just above the Fortress floor. She and Giorn had seen Blue’s portals, and this was nothing like that. It was a thing of brute force, glowing and ragged-edged, with prismatic lightning crackling around the edges where it wrenched space asunder.

Walls slid up from the courtyard to try and contain it, but they twisted oddly. Solid sheets contorted, bent in impossible angles and slid through each other, a fractured constellation of two-dimensional slabs. The crack opened wider, making the useless fragments of the fortress flex and twist in response; then mantis-monsters started to pour through.

They didn’t need the announcement to leap into battle. She and Giorn were well polished as they launched themselves together with her getting an extra boost as she leapt from his shoulder, out into the instant melee. One of the mantises was jostled into a piece of protruding, distorted Fortress wall and split in half in a spray of mint-green ichor, making all the other monsters pause for a fraction of an instant. One that worked in the Classer’s favor, as in that fraction other people closed to even the numbers, now forewarned of the battlefield’s dangers.

It made the battlefield a little bit trickier, everyone a little more cautious as they slid around slowly shifting shards of infinite sharpness. She lost track of Krishma and Aren as they stayed on the edges of the fighting while she and Giorn headed inward. Giorn plied his tree trunk with a deftness that might be surprising to anyone else, sweeping aside thrown spears and deflecting wielded ones, parrying and counterthrusting with enough force to send his targets flying.

Flying, but never into another Classer. Giorn picked his targets carefully. She watched his back, plying her rapier with only [Anell Style Bladeplay: Expert]. Not that the Skill was anything to be disparaged, with a reach and speed most wouldn’t expect even from someone of her level. She parried one spear-thrust, piercing entirely through the mantis’ head on the riposte and then spun to catch a thrown weapon in her off-hand before it could pierce Giorn’s back. The return throw flowed into a leap to dodge a sizzling bolt of white energy and the dance continued on.

Some of the friendly fire was rather less than expertly aimed, forcing her to parry two incoming arrows, neither of which were Aren’s, at least. Giorn heaved them both out of the blast radius of a crystalline sphere of ice a moment later, and she bit off curses that nobody but her husband would hear over the sound of battle.

A quick glance showed a massively chaotic swirl. It was dense enough that spellcasters had issues with making sure they didn’t hit the wrong side, and that was true for the mantises as well as the Classers. That didn’t stop anyone from actually casting though, and more than one spell splattered off of the fractured parts of the Fortress with varying effects. There was a patch of strawberry-colored grass, clearly not as harmless as it looked with the way the limb of a mantis were slowly vanishing into it, several patches of fire in varying colors, a lingering cloud that sparked with white bolts, not to mention blood, gore, and viscera all over the Fortress floor.

She caught a glimpse of Shayma on the other side of the melee; or rather, three Shaymas. Even Sienne couldn’t tell which one was real, and seeing her daughter with awl-pikes instead of arms was disturbing on a visceral level, but some of Shayma’s movements were reminiscent of the Anell style. That spark of pride helped offset the unease at seeing Shayma’s shapeshifting in action, before the melee swept around her again.

There seemed no end to the monsters, and the tear itself was already being guarded by spellcasters. They’d had the effrontery to drop a rune plate on the ground and it was powering a semi-transparent shield that had no problem letting mantis warriors through. Though the Classers were holding their own for the moment, if they didn’t close it soon they’d be overrun.

“If we can get in there I can close it,” she shouted, mostly to Giorn but also to any nearby Classer that wanted to help. Then regretted as it seemed the monsters could understand her too, which wasn’t anything she was used to. Several of the spellcasters aimed things her way, and this time she had to resort to [Spellbreaker] because these weren’t nice and friendly energy bolts, but loops of miasmic danger that promised a very unpleasant future to anyone caught by them.

A man in heavy plate teleported ahead of her and Giorn, starting to shove monsters out of the way with the massive bulk of his shield, while out of the corner of her eye she saw Krishma appear on the edges of the fray, shawl grown into massive thorny vines. Sienne parried two spears with her blade, sending one wide and catching the other against the ground. A stomp tore it out of the monster’s grasp and she advanced on the hapless wielder to pierce it through, but the press was starting to make it difficult to maneuver. At least, until Iniri stepped out onto a balcony above, flanked by her Queensguard.

A blue glow hazed Iniri’s head and thin silver lines appeared, each one perfectly straight and very precisely intersecting one of the monsters while avoiding any Classers. A score of the monsters dropped, crippled or dead, and Sienne wondered why the Queen hadn’t done that before. At least, she did until she saw Iniri sag, just before the guards escorted her back into her tower. That was more than a little frightening; if Iniri lost control of the Artifact than it’d be far worse than this simple incursion. Thanks to the intervention, there was a clear path forward to the protective bubble and the tear, but it wouldn’t last long. Not that it needed to.

“Husband, launch.” She said, and hopped onto his tree as he swung it in her direction. He shifted, and she braced herself as everything blurred. Sienne extended he weapon forward as she was shot straight at the tear, activating the Skill that her Class was named for. [Void Rapier] turned her weapon black, and even over the wind of her passage she could hear the horrible ripping noise as it destroyed air, flesh, magic, and space itself where it passed.

One monster, by luck or foresight, managed to interpose itself between her and the shield, but [Void Rapier] erased its head as her weapon melted under the touch of the void, vanishing like ice in lava. She smashed into the protective bubble next, the runestone splitting asunder as she destroyed the weave of magic, and by the time she reached the tear her blade was barely more than a black line.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she was cutting, but [Void Rapier] had never cared about that before. The void Skill bit into the jagged white and then through it, burning her stamina at a prodigious rate, and the tear vanished. So did the blade, along with most of the skin on her hand. Half a heartbeat went by and then space snapped.

Her attempt at a landing turned into a smash against the Fortress floor hard enough to rebound over the heads of the remaining monsters, and nearly hard enough to stun despite her level. She caught herself on a Fortress wall, leaving a bloody smear from her injured hand. It took her a moment to realize it was the inside of the box Iniri had tried to make to capture the portal, suddenly in its proper place. A half dozen classers and three times that many mantises were trapped with them, but before the monsters could capitalize on it the box dropped.

She staggered, drained and exhausted from the use of the void Skill and fumbling for a sword with her off-hand, when Shayma herself appeared in front Sienne with a blink. With her normal arms this time, thank the gods.

“That was amazing, mom!” Shayma enthused, reaching out to grab her and, with another blink, moved Sienne back to where Giorn was pulping leftover monsters. For a moment Sienne had been given the impression of faded outlines and bright colors, but it was gone as soon as she blinked. Giorn swept aside another mantis before scooping both of them up in a crushing hug.

“The Ell family is the best!” He grinned down at them.

“Yeah!” Shayma grinned back, and Sienne had to laugh.

“Win the battle first, celebrate later,” she scolded them.

“Speaking of! Mom, let me get Keri for you, she’ll fix that hand right up.” Shayma fairly towed her out of the edge of the diminishing melee and waved at the healer. “Keri! Hey! Can you help my mom here?” The small woman bounced over, smiling cheerfully, which was a sight that might disturb anyone who hadn’t spent much time in Nivir.

“Hello, missus Ell!” Keri said cheerfully, lifting her hand and aiming it at Sienne. A wash of soothing warmth flowed through her, then shifted to focus on her hand. She’d received magical healing before, but it hadn’t been so effortlessly controlled. It was impressive, especially for someone maybe halfway tier two, to judge from Keri’s mana. At close range she looked vaguely familiar, but Sienne didn’t have time to pursue that thought as Shayma suddenly stiffened, tail going bushy and ears twitching.

“Tor Kot found Blue,” she said abruptly, and vanished.