Chapter 7 (Patreon)

1

“Get your asses back here!” Kory screamed as he rode his horse after the group of Newen that were roaming the mountain’s foothills. The mottled brown and green skinned lizard-humanoid creatures, once foot soldiers and grunts in the Demonic Dragon’s army, had remained in the region due to their ridiculous breeding speed. Kory felt the rush of adrenaline as they began to turn and form a very well-put-together shield wall with bristling spears.

That’s not going to help you one bit, he thought as he incanted a spell, shouting his intent – as if these peons could even understand. "En ethiel an le / thalion min / dautho nin helw / a bartho hain dagor." The Berserker hero’s signature spell did not manifest outwardly. It was an internal spell that used his mana to reinforce his skin, turning it to steel and preventing all harm. He pulled his feet from the stirrups and crouched on the saddle.

Tapping the horse on the left flank with his enormous battle hammer – Krak’il’to – the steed turned sharply as he launched himself with a massive jump. He ascended into the sky before slamming down onto the formation from above – their spears doing absolutely nothing save bouncing off of or shattering on his body. The hammer struck three and instantly obliterated them – crushing them into flat, gory discs of viscera as blood fountained around him. Kory grinned manically as he twisted the hilt of the artifact – one he had spent considerable time acquiring – as arcing electricity jolted out from the head, stunning and locking the Newen’s muscles in place.

He swung in wide, sweeping arcs that crushed his opponents, obliterating them entirely. Only when the last fell did he finally feel the battle-rage start to fade. He was covered in gore, and licked his lips as he laughed. “Alright men! Get the ears!” He shouted in Triskol – the language of one of the non-primacy kingdoms of Ghomar.

He put Krak’il’to onto his back-clasp and pulled a knife, setting to the grisly but very enjoyable task of carving the Newen’s ears off. Several Humans dressed in similar studded-leather armor came over on horses – with Kory’s in tow – as a few dismounted to help with the butchery.

Kory stood up and panted slightly as he looked to see a very peculiar sight – one of his men had someone else mounted up behind him. He pointed his dagger, “Who is that?”

His man saluted – clasping his fist to his chest. “It is a scavenger, your grace. Who delved into the Demonic Dragon’s dread fortress.”

The name of that place sent chills down Kory’s spine. He had almost died there. They had fled, but Lyn had somehow killed the fucker. They never did find her body, though. Just her spear that could survive the intense heat. Misty had performed a spell to see the recent past in the area, and confirmed Lyn’s death. The experience still left him chilled to the core, and the heroes had agreed to keep the fortress completely off limits, along with other agreements, like Jason taking the credit for the killing blow. And omitting their cowardice of course. We need people to stay away. If someone else went there, and did the same spell Misty had done…the truth might come out. “Does he know the sentence for scavenging is death?”

“Ye, M’lord,” The man replied. “But, ye naed to har this…”

2

Lyn woke up several times in what she learned was the night as the necklace had become full of her excess mana. Thankfully, Gael and Vael were taking turns keeping watch over her as she rested. They had brought over a large, obsidian tub, and Lyn would direct the excess mana as slowly as she could whilst they used a water spell to cool it. On the plus side, they’re getting good at turning this into more obsidian. She chuckled slightly at the thought of creating an industry based around the substance.

Channeling the mana became easier with the magical necklace as well. She could empty it, open her mana channel – focusing all of her will and mental control on simply controlling the rate of flow – and whatever she didn’t want to actually go through the mana channel, she could divert to the storage device. A few days of this, and I should have good control over my channels themselves. Then I will just need to vent it.

Eventually, morning arrived and she felt her stomach grumbling. “Gael? I need food.”

The fraternal twin of Vael bowed his head. “Of course, your lordship.” He left the room and returned several minutes later with a Duskari whose head was covered. Ah, right…they have a servant caste. Some of the Ari treated everyone equally, but in Duskari culture, those who were not suited to combat or spellcraft were delegated to subservient support roles. It was a two-tier system of existence. Sucky, but hey – some folks are born into privilege. Something I can look at fixing way down the line.

They seemed to be treated well despite being second-class citizens. Almost like the Spartans and the Helots, minus the torture and rape. At least, she hoped that those atrocities weren’t happening to this servant caste. The idea of having servants that tended to her every whim left a mixed feeling in her mind. On one hand, being waited on hand and foot would make life much easier and more pleasurable. But, on the other hand, it was treating these people the exact same as her father had treated her at home. I’ll let it persist, temporarily. But once I’ve solidified my position and there isn’t any doubt that I’m in control…I’ll fix it.

For now, she was starving, and devoured the repast – some type of eggs that had been fried up in butter, an odd, fuzz-covered bacon that tickled her mouth but tasted exactly like prosciutto, and toast of some black-colored bread with a scrumptious jam. After eating her fill and sending the servant away, Velenna entered the room, shooing Gael out as she carried in several books. “Are you ready, your lordship?”

Lyn nodded and sat up, gingerly stepping on still-tender legs. Her recovery had been quite rapid. Normally, expanding mana channels was done slowly to prevent this exact problem. It was the difference between doing aerobic exercise and running until your heart stopped. The way she went about it was not healthy, and the pain should have been excruciating – but this body was tolerating it very well. The natural rate of recovery was rapid, as well. Maybe I have some of the Demon Dragon’s regeneration as part of the Destroyer mana core. She threw on a robe made of spider silk and sat down at the small table. Velenna sat opposite her. “What do you wish to start with? Written Arinol, or the histories?”

“Let’s start with the history.”

Velenna cracked open an ancient, wood-covered tome that was also bound with extremely fine leather. “Well, let’s start here…”

3

The first wielder of the Destroyer mana core was named Raevan, and she was simply known as “The Destroyer,” with no other fancy title. It was she who took the Ari – created by Aelor, the creator deity – and asked them to serve her will.

Those who took service with her became the Duskari, and moved to Raevan’s fortress built into the enormous mountain that sat in the center of Ghomar’s landmass. It was ringed on all sides by smaller mountain ranges, and a raging volcano sat atop the highest peaks – constantly in a state of freezing and burning.

The heroes arrived – twenty of them – each with their own mana cores that were quite powerful. They assaulted Raevan’s fortress – and failed before even making it past the Duskari forces. Their mana cores vanished upon their deaths, rather than being left in the corpse – which is what occurred when any other creature died.

More heroes came, year after year, and then lengthening into five-to-twenty-year spans. Raevan’s scouts had learned that, in one of these instances, heroes were being summoned from other worlds to be used in the hopes that their unique talents and perspectives would allow for Raevan’s defeat. And, there would always be twenty summoned. Not all of them would arrive for the final confrontation, having died in their travels, training, and other conflicts they were dragged into. Just like my group, she thought.

That was the First Age. A time when all nations were aligned against a common foe and struggled mightily to defeat it.

Eventually, the one who would be renamed to the Paragon hero, the man who would create the Kingdom called Khrelarda, slew Raevan using a divine sword that he– as the legends said – was gifted by Aelor. Thus, the first Destroyer died. The Destroyer mana core vanished from Raevan’s corpse, just like the hero mana cores did from their bodies.

And thus, the Victory Age came to be.

After recovering from the centuries of conflict, the various kingdoms and cultures went to war with each other. Until a new Destroyer arose. Yheron, the Demonic Dragon, who claimed to be Raevan reborn. Wielding the Destroyer mana core and manipulating lava left no doubt in anyone’s mind.

And thus, the Demon Age came into being.

The Demonic Dragon ruled the Duskari for almost two-thousand years – longer than Raevan’s own rule – and it was during his rule that Velenna and her twin, Vehenna, were born and came into his service. There were dozens of waves of heroes who were summoned from other worlds, sent against Yheron, and were crushed by his overwhelming power.

4

“And then, he was slain by the Paragon hero once more, and a new age began. The hero Age.” Velenna reached the end of the book and closed it gently. “You came back to us, my lord, very rapidly compared to before. The gap between Raevan and Yheron was some five hundred years. It has only been ten years since your last incarnation, Yheron, was slain.”

Lyn felt her heart stop for a beat. Ten years? I was gone for ten years? She hadn’t checked the time when she left the school and went to the skate park, but it was only a thirty-minute ride. She shook her head, “That is quite a tale of my past. As for why I came back so soon this time, well, I couldn’t stay away.”

But panic washed over her, and she felt herself hyperventilating like when she was younger and hid in the closet from her dad to avoid his belt. Or when she hid under the cupboard from her mom’s hair curler. The same fear and anxiety built up within her, and she felt the mana core sizzling and bubbling inside her torso in response to the rising fear and anxiety. So much could have happened in ten years. The world advancing without her…and worse…forgetting her. She knew she had been wiped from visual memory, and therefore written record, of the Duskari. What if I’ve been left out of everyone’s memory? All her hard work, five years of her life spent in constant toil – wasted. She felt faint.

“My lord? You look pale.”

Lyn shook her head and forced the memories back. I can deal with them later once I get a therapist – or whatever the equivalent is here. She knew the best way to repress those memories was to keep herself busy. Shift her focus. “Let’s get started on learning the written language…”

5

Hours passed as Lyn sat with Velenna. Food and drink were brought to them, and to her satisfaction, Lyn could easily pick up the information that was being presented. After a few hours, she dismissed everyone. “Send Vael in, and then leave us.”

Vael arrived shortly after and bowed, “You summoned me, Lord Rivers?”

“Yes. I want to try something. Just in case, have your water spell ready.” Lyn went to the new obsidian bucket and held her hand over it. Time to test my theory. The way the words came to her so easily, and her ludicrously fast comprehension and fluency in written Duskari, led her to one conclusion. She took a deep breath, and opened the mana channel in her right arm, making the aperture as small as she could.

The mana was soothing and warm. No longer burning her as long as she didn’t let it build up too much in her mana core. Make it safe. The more elaborate, the better. “En ethiel an le / thalion min / togo lin gweal / sui lhewig vagol / a tiriol sui garn / erin bâr / a then bartha / na i gwilith.”

The mana streamed down her arm and into her palm. A small gust of air blew out in a steady flow, swirling in a light-green-tinged crimson flurry around the bottom of the obsidian bucket, before flying up past her and flowing by her hair. The wind became like a breeze in the desert, or the warmth of a hair dryer. She didn’t feel the same amount of relief from the mana-build-up as shooting lava, but her heart fluttered, and she giggled with delight. I still have my Scout mana core!

That also brought a small amount of disappointment, as it also meant all the mana cores she had gone dungeon-diving with Trish, Misty, and Ben to obtain were no longer present. The Destroyer mana core must have become my primary core.

When they had first started to adventure and journey to find other mana cores to empower their own, Thomas had warned them. “If you find a core stronger than your own, don’t consume it immediately – because it will override your current core, and while it may be stronger in the short term, you’ll lose all of your growth and development.”

Lyn sighed in frustration. I have to start from square one with my Scout hero core. But, the silver lining, was that the passive abilities of that core were intact. The ability to acclimate to cultures, societies, and languages with ease and grace would certainly be invaluable as she re-explored this world that had aged ten years in her absence. I can be fully ingratiated into their society. Perfect blending.

Vael’s eyes went wide, “You are powerful, my lord.”

“I am,” Lyn nodded in agreement. I won’t have the same speed, and my control is fucked.

“Remember,” she recalled Thomas saying, “Even if you find a mana core that, say, gives you the ability to use poison spells more effectively, you’ll still have to familiarize your mana channel to be used to that type of spell.”

Just because she had the core didn’t mean that she could start throwing around hurricanes anytime soon. Despite her enormous mana channels enabling her to do so…she would need to train with the spell type once more.

Vael nodded, “Anything else, my lord?”

Lyn nodded and looked at the remarkably attractive woman with her tight and toned body, chiseled cheekbones, and intense, red eyes. She had always liked guys and girls and had not been laid in a long time. She felt like celebrating her not-lost mana core. And, she wanted to forget. Forget about the past and the fact that all of her accomplishments were seemingly blocked from the memories of those on Ghomar. She needed to feel good. “Feel like having a bit of fun?”

Vael’s eyes went wide, but she nodded with enthusiasm, “Yes, ma’am!”

Lyn pointed to the bed, “Then if you’re willing. Strip down.”

Vael giggled and nodded, “As you command.”

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