Chapter 137- Shara Of Lordstone (Patreon)

Jiran spotted a trail of smoke snaking into the air at the edge of a nearby forest. He double-checked his map to confirm it was their party before flying Mayalyn and himself there. They touched down to find Niya laid out on the ground with her limbs spread wide. She was covered in sweat and taking deep, calming breaths. His aura found the cut-off trunks of several trees and two holes where very heavy boots had depressed into the ground. That, along with the still-vibrating framework, was all the confirmation he needed.

“You guys had a visitor as well?” Jiran stood beside Olive and began to help her cut up the delicious-smelling meat she had cooked.

Olive nodded, “Mhm. My father. It was… not the most pleasant conversation we've ever had.”

“Empress Mesalay found us on top of the mountain. She was all over the place with her questions and kept saying things that made no sense.”

“Truly? I’ve never met her. For her to actually leave her palace, I don’t think that’s happened in the last fifty years. I’m glad they’re taking the appearance of the Remalon so seriously, even if it is a waste of mana for them to be moving about so much. What did she say that confused you?”

Jiran relayed the conversation word for word, Olive’s brows lowering with each passing moment. When he finished with Mayalyn’s insights into her emotions, Olive snapped her fingers and nodded.

“She must have discovered your identity. Whoever she sends to keep an eye on you will certainly be someone she trusts to uncover more of your secrets. As for why she didn't simply force you to cooperate, and why she was scared, I have no idea. Could she have detected traces of the Remalon’s mana on you? Did it do something to you?”

“Nothing that I can feel or see. I’m pretty sure my aura would be able to tell if it left any mana on me. That’s a scary thought. What if it did and it can hear everything we’re saying? Not that it would be able to understand our language. What a pain in the ass,” Jiran grumbled while sliding a scalpel of mana between fresh meat and bristly, spiked fur.

“Chin up, big guy. It could have killed us all!” Cameron laughed as he poked the fire with a stick.

Jiran ignored him, continuing to talk with Olive. “How did the conversation with Emperor Dominus go?”

“Better than yours, honestly. He scolded us for putting ourselves in danger on purpose. Then, he wanted to confirm the details of the Remalon but it was all in the letter I sent them.  He asked about you, too. But I didn’t reveal anything.”

Niya’s snort caused Olive’s cheeks to color slightly before she continued in a rush, “I told him your name was Mortemer, though I’m pretty sure he knows the truth. When he realized I wouldn’t say more, he left. I-I do not believe he means you any harm, but my father can be unpredictable. I am sorry if our involvement brings you trouble. I swear I will do everything in my power to help you if needed.”

Jiran waved off her concern, “It’s fine. The emperors’ actions are just as out of our control as the remalons. If anything, you being here will protect us. Until something actually happens, don’t beat yourself up, okay?” She nodded, sending him a grateful smile before he spoke to the entire group. “I’m thinking we should move up the schedule. Let’s get to Lordstone as quickly as we can after eating. Then, we’ll leave the empire. I’ve only got four days on my timer. It’s going to end very badly for me if one of the emperors decides I’d be less trouble locked in a tower somewhere.”

Niya cringed, then her eyes flew wide as she realized what he was really saying. “Mother above you’re going to make me fly like that again, aren't you?” Seeing Jiran’s ear-to-ear grin, Niya’s head flopped back to the ground with a loud groan.

. . .

Lunch was finished in no time and the party gathered around Jiran, ready to leave. Niya wore a grim expression while grumbling to herself. “Hey, cheer up. This is a perfect opportunity to learn how to block wind and sound with your aura,” Olive and Cameron perked up instantly, eager to learn while Mayalyn puffed out her cheeks in an adorable pout.

“The way I do it is by forming a hard shell on the outside of my aura, like this," Jiran firmed a layer of his manabody inside each of theirs so they could feel it. “I use the image of stopping vibrations from moving through it.”

“Why vibrations?” Cameron wondered as he poked Jiran’s aura with his finger.

“Because that’s what sound is; vibrations passing through the air exactly as ripples would through a pond if you dropped in a stone. Okay, everyone got it? Great, let’s go!”

Niya’s eyes flew wide as Jiran suddenly grabbed them all and leaped into the air, “Wait, no I’m not reeeeeeady!”

Her plea fell on deaf ears as twin jets of compressed hydrogen and oxygen exploded beneath his feet. Cones of shaped aura directed the force, propelling them through the sky, and within seconds, they were traveling several thousand kilometers per hour toward the southwestern reaches of the empire. Each of them braced against the tremendous acceleration. Mayalyn released a giggle while watching their faces contort. She was safely tucked in close to his side where his aura at least protected her from the raging winds.

Olive was the first to figure out how to block the wind, her wildly billowing hair calmed to fall around her shoulders as the outer shell formed. She flashed Mayalyn a triumphant grin before laughing and pointing at Niya. The skin on Niya’s face was pulled down from the powerful wind as she shouted futilely for Jiran to stop. Mayalyn gave her a supportive thumbs-up before turning to Cameron with a nod of respect. The boy was howling with laughter, facing the wind head-on while throwing punches.

Once Niya and Cameron calmed down, they rapidly figured out the simple technique. The party crossed into the desert half an hour later, having crossed over half of the empire in a blazing blur. When Jiran saw they were near Lordstone, he slowed their flight and coasted on wings of aura over the sandy desert.

Sparse rock formations dotted the landscape, interspersed with skittering animals and beasts. Waving dunes gave way to flat, hard-packed ground that reminded him of the Outlands. In the distance, a short sunbleached wall appeared on the horizon. Beyond it, the tips of tall buildings could be seen stretching high into the air. They landed a few minutes walk from the eastern gate to the town, his last view from the air of bustling streets packed with people.

“Looks busy,” Jiran observed while lifting an eyebrow at Niya.

She scowled at him but answered with a nod, “The desert is not as hospitable as other parts of the empire. People are forced together into communities centered around natural resources. Also, a reminder that slavery is legal here, so don’t cause a scene!”

Some of those people are slaves? That almost happened to me now that I think about it. Would Markhiss really have dragged me all the way to the desert to sell me?

Cameron pulled him from his thoughts with a tug on his sleeve, “You’re going to have to show me how to make those blue flames,” He said while jumping lightly and shooting little blasts of orange fire from his feet that weren’t quite powerful enough to lift his tier five weight.

“At least use your aura to balance yourself, fool,” Niya turned her scowl on the noble.

Cameron snapped his fingers with a smile, “Hey, that’s a good idea! What’s your problem anyway? Sifflefly in your undies or something? We’re finally here to help your friend.”

Niya’s lips pursed and her eyes widened like she was about to explode in anger before she deflated with a sigh, “I’m fine. Let’s just go.”

Cameron and Jiran shared a look before Cameron turned to Olive and whispered out of the side of his mouth, “That was one of those 'I’m actually not fine at all' I’m fine’s, wasn’t it?” Olive rolled her eyes and trudged after Niya without responding.

Jiran brushed shoulders with Cameron and whispered in his ear on his way to follow after the girls, “I seriously feel sorry for the woman who falls for your ugly mug.”

“Rude! I’m gorgeous!”

“And single,” Cameron’s jaw fell open at Mayalyn’s sniped comment as she kept pace with Jiran, who cackled at his expense.

The rest of the walk to Lordstone was uneventful. Three guards stood at attention, only briefly extending courtesies to the few people coming and going through the gate. They recognized Niya and waved before the group arrived. They were about to bow to her when their eyes widened as they saw Mayalyn stepping out from behind Jiran. Two of them gasped, taking a step back while the third moved to lower his spear, only to find it stuck fast in Jiran’s aura.

“N-Niya, w-what is the meaning of this?” One of the guards stuttered, growing terrified as Jiran took a step forward and growled. A touch of mana laced with the sound while his aura became a palpable pressure on their shoulders.

“I’m surprised news hasn’t spread here yet. There is a new race that has joined the empire. If you see others like her, I suggest you don’t show such offense. Your empress has met this one personally and even welcomed her into her lands and home.”

“E-empress… Typhoon?” The man was in a daze, unable to take his eyes off Mayalyn’s ears. With a huff, Niya pushed roughly past the man who didn’t make any move to stop them as they entered. Likewise, the other guards gave them a wide berth, though their eyes were focused with fearful intensity on Jiran.

Tall buildings lined both sides of the main street that cut through the town. When the tightly packed people caught sight of Mayalyn, most gasped and reared back in alarm while others adapted more quickly, and usually with a conniving, greedy glint to their eyes that Jiran didn’t appreciate at all. Mana Confluence formed a bubble around her and Elemental Castigation warped light so it could no longer pass through. When Mayalyn's ears vanished, the annoying reactions ceased.

“Thank you, Jiran. But it is good for them to see my ancestry. They will not be so shocked the next time they encounter one of The People,” Seeing the determined glint in her eye, he nodded and absorbed the elemental light back into his manapool.

The group moved swiftly after that, none of them enjoying the constant shouts and pointed fingers. Despite keeping his senses spread across all the unfamiliar faces pressed in around them, Jiran didn’t miss that Niya grew more anxious with every step. By the time they reached Shara’s home, she was shaking from head to toe and looked ready to bolt away. The house was considerably nicer than its neighbors, sporting an additional floor and several meters of space in the back dedicated to a wide array of desert flowers.

Niya’s fists clenched and her eyes squeezed tight as she gently rapped on the wooden door. Jiran nudged her with his elbow and she jumped, hyperventilating by the time her feet hit the ground, “Nobody’s home. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Niya’s nostrils flared and the skin around the corners of her eyes crinkled on the verge of tears. Without responding, she boldly walked through the front door. The party watched her go and then shared a shrug before following her. Inside, they found signs of recent occupation in the form of dirty dishes, scattered clothing, and piles of pebbles and rock dust. Beside each of the piles were half-formed statuettes. Along the walls were long shelves filled with more statues, each an elegant rendition of a person.

Niya was already zipping around the large living room. After gathering the clothes and setting them aside, she swept the dust and brought the dishes into a kitchen in the back. The entire time, she was mumbling under her breath. “Jiran!” Her yell from the kitchen prompted him to snap out of his confused daze. “Unbelievable, is she starving herself now?” By the time they arrived in the kitchen, Niya had rummaged through the cupboards and was poking her head down a stairwell into a cold storage pantry. “Jiran, I need you to go to the market and get some meat and vegetables for dinner!”

“I, ahh, don’t have any money?”

“Of course you don’t, why would you have completely normal, totally mundane things that the rest of us have to worry about?”

“I’ll pay!” Olive stepped in and when they all looked at her with raised brows, her cheeks flushed.

“Mayalyn?” Jiran tilted his head her way.

“I will stay,” She moved past him to a cutting board overflowing with herbs and spices Niya had picked from a drying line.

Jiran and Olive turned around to find Cameron lying on the couch. His eyes were closed as he snored softly, clearly pretending to be asleep. “Guess it’s just you and me then.”

Olive nodded and set out ahead of him. It didn’t take them long to find the market after asking for directions once. Now that he didn't have to watch for threats, Jiran was able to observe each individual in more detail. For the most part, they were tanned and wore light, baggy clothing that looked comfortable beneath the hot suns. The slaves were just as well dressed as the average citizen, which was a pleasant surprise as he expected them to be downtrodden and abused. They talked excitedly and walked with straight posture as if the collars around their necks were a badge of honor. Tall buildings, capped with spires alluded to some individuals being wealthy beyond the norm. He even spotted a few groups of slaves led by individuals in exotic attire, decked with resplendent jewelry.

Olive’s light leather armor and Jiran’s casual shirt and jacket didn’t stand out much, allowing them to blend into the crowd. His attention was pulled to a particularly large group of slaves led by a man and woman. The slaves were well-fed, strong, and walked with a level of dignity that set them apart. The collars and chains binding them to one another shone with polished golden-sapphire luster in the fading evening light. The two leading them were both tier five, the first Jiran had seen since entering the town.

“I don’t understand why they look so proud. Or why they take slaves at all.” His question caused a nearby man to laugh. He would have made their conversation private except he didn’t want his hardened aura to bump into any of the people pressed around them, so he simply ignored the man as Olive responded.

“You wore a mana collar once as well so you understand their purpose. They are linked to one of the pieces of jewelry those two wear,” Olive found a place in the line of a stall with racks of hanging meat.

Oh. They’re using all of these slaves to boost their mana regeneration! That’s… actually not a bad idea. That explains why they take such good care of them. If they were hurt, their mana regeneration would naturally attempt to heal the injuries.

Jiran stood next to her in line, not bothering to keep his voice low, “Why isn’t that a more common practice? As bad as it is to take someone’s mana, it’s obviously smart to consolidate power into those most capable of defending the empire. In the village I grew up in, any of us would have donated our mana to the hunters in a heartbeat if it meant they were able to defend us when a higher-tier beast came.”

“The collars are difficult to produce and the conversion rate is terrible. They are not strong enough to drain mana of individuals above a certain tier, depending on the quality of the collar. Also, only so many collars can be linked to a single master-jewel. Considering all of the limitations, it’s not a suitable solution to the systemic lack of mana among higher tiers. If it were useful for anyone above the seventh, I’m sure more of the empire would have legalized slavery. Or at least employ vassals whose sole purpose is to generate mana.”

Is that why Reihnhardt made such a big deal out of me being able to charge his mana? Because he’s tier seven and that’s not something that even the collars can do? Hmm, now that I know how formations work, and with my understanding of the framework and mana, I wonder how strong of a collar I could make.

“Whatever you’re thinking about right now, don’t.” Olive narrowed her eyes, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

“What?” Jiran leaned back defensively.

“I’ve spent enough time around you to know that face. You were about to do something that would land us in a whole new heap of trouble. Just don’t. We have a task to do here then we must move on. Please, try not to disrupt their entire way of life in the single day we are here! One day, just one day without making trouble. Please.”

Jiran rolled his eyes, deep down knowing she was probably right. “Fine, fine. I’ll be good… and…” He trailed off, forgetting what he was saying as Mana Omnis caught sight of the most unusual mana he had ever seen. It belonged to a woman with stark white hair who was moving slower than the other tier three’s around her.

Her manapool was completely empty but occasionally shone with a violet radiance. It flickered to life with each breath she took, as density was absorbed and converted. Then, the fresh mana would immediately spend itself in a little pulse of dark energy that raced through her veins. On the outside, she was a fairly normal woman, but to Jiran, she was like a pulsing beacon in the night. The woman saw him staring and tilted her head in his direction. Something about the movement was incredibly familiar and sent a shiver racing up his back.

Have I met her before? No, I would recognize her face, it was something about the way she moved.

“I think we just found the woman we’re here to help,” Jiran nodded in the woman’s direction.

When Olive followed his motion and spotted the woman, she nodded, “I believe you are correct. Why don’t you let her know we’ve invaded her home while I finish up here.”

Jiran approached the oddly familiar woman who stood calmly waiting for him.

“You must be Shara,” Jiran dipped his head respectfully. “My name is Mortemer of, err. Just Mortemer is fine.”

Her voice didn’t match her apparent age, sounding more like Olive than a woman in her middle years, “I am indeed Shara of Lordstone. My apologies, but I do not recall how we are acquainted.”

“Oh, we aren't. Niya asked me to come buy some meat and vegetables for dinner.”

Shara’s eyes flew open and she gasped, “Niya? Niya of Feylon?! You know where she is?”

“Yes… She’s at your home, preparing din—” Shara took off in a mad sprint, pushing people aside as she rushed in the direction they came from. Jiran looked back at Olive who was watching the woman run. When her eyes narrowed at Jiran, he responded with an awkward smile and a nervous laugh.

Well crap, I guess she’s not getting her one day.