Trapped in Another World With No Magic

Ecklevon rolls his shoulders as he approaches the interrogation room. Zuzia is being ‘held for questioning’, but in actuality, it’s a resting area for her, in case they fail to free her from Yaulander. Given the orders that the gatonine knight just received, he’s going to have to pray that it goes as planned. They have several things to attempt, since Sundenelle immediately asked the question Daniel expected her to when she learned about the convenient magic void bags the western races have access to. They’re actually not as common as the force Daniel defeated would make it seem, but they are common enough that many demon-kin have at least small-capacity ones. Neith, in his disguise as Sir Larven, has one that can supposedly contain a large monster’s body.
The problem is the person they will be attempting to use it on. Zuzia will likely cooperate, but she is resistant to magic passively. It’s believed by Larven to be part of the reason she is able to distort her orders as much as she can, taking advantage of the translations that occur in her brain to avoid as much pain as possible and passively resist Yaulander.
Similarly, a normal magically-bound slave would never be able to do what she did in order to reach the Imperial palace in just a single day. She directly put him into immediate danger, but because of her own confidence in her abilities, she was able to carry out the reckless behavior when a slave collar would normally restrain its wearer from doing so.
Ecklevon knocks on the door, and he enters.
When he does, his eyes are met with a scene he would absolutely never have been prepared for.
And, he has seen the dungeons of bandit fortresses, cruel and corrupt lords, and even the Imperial dungeon during times of particularly tasteless matters.
Zuzia has the female interrogator’s back to the wall, her arm blocking the woman in a classic courtship tactic as their faces linger close together. Whatever was being said has the interrogator’s face red with embarrassment, compounded with the Chief Imperial Knight entering.
Zuzia also looks to Ecklevon, sizing him up briefly, but she doesn’t react in embarrassment. In fact, it’s the interrogator who panics and tries to push Zuzia away, gaining no ground on the superhuman otherworlder.
“S-S-Sir Ecklevon!?” exclaims the interrogator, only now realizing she’s not able to budge Zuzia. “I-I-It’s not what it looks like!”
Zuzia finally relaxes her posture, facing the knight casually and without fear.
“Seems I interrupted some… important questioning.”
“Sir, forgive me,” urges the interrogator. “Miss Spolskia w-was just acting out the answer to one of my questions. F-For ‘clarity’.”
‘Clarity’ is, of course, the excuse they’re using for dragging out the interrogation for such a relatively small matter where the facts are all pretty easy to corroborate. The damage Zuzia did to the capital was surprisingly minimal, since the carriage spent most of the time in the air. And, because it was Yaulander’s orders that she was following, she can’t be held directly responsible.
That said, Sundenelle is working against the clock to try to find precedents to seize ownership of Zuzia from Yaulander, but she can’t dedicate any meaningful time or resources to it, since everyone is focused on the mana fire.
Ecklevon clears his throat, saying, “Well, all of your clothes are still on, so I suppose I saw nothing of consequence either way…”
The interrogator hides her face in embarrassment, while Zuzia simply shrugs. “I mean, if she went all the way along with it, I wouldn’t mind…”
“Wh-What!?” gasps both of the knights.
“Forget about that. What did you need, Sir Ecklevon?”
The gatonine knight is deadlocked for a moment, but he manages to snap out of it. He shakes his head, flicking his triangular ears briefly for a sort of mental reset. “Of course. I came to escort Zuzia Spolskia to her quarters for the night.”
This surprises the interrogator, who replies, “Sir? I was under the impression that the interrogation…”
“The pretense needs to continue, yes. All will be made clear soon enough. All you need to do is follow orders.” Ecklevon presents a scroll from the Empress, and the interrogator nods. “Very well. I relinquish custody of suspect Zuzia Spolskia to the custody of Imperial Knight Ecklevon.”
“I accept custody of Zuzia Spolskia,” replies the gatonine knight. He then says, “Miss Spolskia, if you’ll come with me.”
Zuzia shrugs and follows along, and the two pass by several guards as they leave the detention center in the Imperial Palace. It’s not as grim as the dungeons themselves, and the primary goal is to simply keep Zuzia away from Yaulander.
Of course, that point is moot given the orders he was able to give via telepathy.
Once he’s on the path pre-established by his trusted subordinates, Ecklevon says without looking directly at Zuzia, “We’re aware of your most recent orders.”
“What?” asks the brunette.
“Please stay calm.” Ecklevon presents the small flag that Larven gave him, glancing at the otherworlder. “We’re doing our best to keep you out of hands that wish to misuse you, but the time limit is obviously approaching.”
Zuzia sighs. “Sir Larven seemed rather nice. I’d really hate to hurt him.”
“He’s prepared to do what is necessary, so I hope you are as well.”
“What does that mean?”
The gatonine smirks at her. “We’re aware of one advantage that you’ve already made use of so far. Typical slavery is illegal in the Empire, for the most part, but there are a few caveats. That said, it’s clear Yaulander is not used to having a magic-bound slave. Let alone one capable of twisting or resisting his orders.”
Ecklevon leads Zuzia to an open garden, which would be suspiciously clear of both guests and guards, if Zuzia knew any better.
“Do you know how much time is left before you’re compelled to return to the Grand Prince?”
“I only know that when he gave me the order, he said four hours. I assume it coincides with dinner, which would be the time Larven is least likely to be right next to her Majesty.”
Ecklevon nods. “That makes sense, but it is a little inconvenient. It means we won’t be able to go with the first version of the plan.”
“Am I allowed in on the plan?” asks Zuzia. She’s the same height as Ecklevon, who is not short for his age, and is actually on the taller side for a gatonine. That said, he does admire her charged and ready attitude.
“There’s not much to know, fortunately. Sir Larven only asked me,... No, Sir Neith asked me to request that you put your trust in him.”
“That’s a little difficult while being kept in the dark.”
“True, but he’s personally willing to put his life on the line because he trusts you. The plan is simple; all you have to do is try not to kill him.”
“Huh?” asks Zuzia, making a skeptical face.
“In order to get you away and keep you away from the Grand Prince, Neith will need to subdue you. And, we’re well aware that won’t be easy. However, one of your orders is to try to assassinate him, correct?”
“Th-... That’s correct,” murmurs Zuzia softly. She glances around, seeming suddenly fearful. Ecklevon can’t help but smile.
“Neith will have to get rough with you, but in a worst case scenario, the Citadel supposedly has a revival potation as a backup plan. If we could simply ask you to lay down and go asleep, we would.”
Zuzia sighs. She obviously knows the contract would wake her up, so it’s not something she wants to try. The brunette clenches her fists as she closes her eyes. “I don’t want to fight him. I could and probably will kill him.”
“He’s aware of that, and he won’t blame you. But… Even knowing the risks, he is willing to try.”
“Why? I’m nothing to him.”
“Because Daniel is willing to start a war that could irrevocably reshape this continent, and millions of people will die. Because it’s not Daniel’s harem, but Neith’s that you would be added to. I don’t honestly know for sure, but having met him a few times, I believe that you will be in far better hands with him than anything that stands in your future now.”
Zuzia sighs. “If he tries to make me his harem member, I’ll enjoy killing him.” She grins wickedly, adding in a dark tone, “And, I’ll enjoy finding out what dragon meat tastes like grilled, stewed, and pattied into burgers. Each. Many times.”
Ecklevon chuckles. “Understood. Just say the words if you’re willing to trust him for now.”
Zuzia sighs. “Yes. I trust Sir Neith about as well as I can in this world. So, let’s get this plan…”
Ecklevon suddenly dives away from Zuzia. He calls out, “Brace yourself!”
The hairs rise on the back of her neck. She whirls to find a humongous figure swooping down on her, and before she can react, she is slammed by a titanic impact, and a massive gust swoops across the gatonine like a brief, instantaneous gale that ends as quickly as it arrived. During the moment that the hurricane-like wind roars by, rocks and debris seemingly explode in every direction away from where Zuzia was standing. Pings and pinches strike the knight’s armor and skin from the particulate flung by the terrifying gust.
Afterwards, the only evidence of the existence of either Zuzia or the gale is a sweeping path of dust tumbling away from Ecklevon.
The gatonine sits up as knights rush in to ‘investigate the anomaly’. “Commander!”
The feline knight massages his head near his right ear, which felt the roar of the wind the most directly.
“Good luck, Sir Neith, Miss Zuzia.” He looks to the north, where the gust of wind is swirling away from them. The dragon is already a speck in the distance, having used wind magic to fly at unbelievable speeds without needing to use his wings.
The battle that is about to unfold is Zuzia’s first and possibly only chance to avoid Yaulander’s wrath.
That is a problem for the dragon, though. Ecklevon needs to return to his Liege and make sure she remains safe.
Or at least, the illusion of her safety continues.
***
Shortly before, Daniel rehearses the contract modification that the group is planning. He can’t afford to waste even a second while Serrentuk does everything in his power to resist the urges of his contract to return to his master or to fend off any attempts to modify the slavery spell on him.
Another problem is the Lurker. Because it has been making more and more regular appearances over Daniel, particularly when he’s exposed to powerful magic, he can’t afford to keep ignoring it.
He can tell the Lurker has a long running conspiracy deep in the works, and Daniel is just a pawn in its schemes. Though, the chessboard the eldritch being is playing on is thousands of squares across, piled high with various pieces, and obscured by a video-game-like ‘fog of war’ that hides the parts of the board Daniel has yet to interact with, which is most of the ‘board’ even now.
Senn, Xyreko, Arachne, Treia, Doephluev, Yaulwembor, Kera’tai, Vaergraes, Illianna, Aoloan, Magnir, and Roetta are gathered alongside Amalaskae and Ryukana, who are prepared to defend against any possible contract demons. Meanwhile, Hekate and Wenlianna have gone with the dragons to the hatching room as invited guests, and Aramellianna, Gwenesphia, Veiranoei, and Byleathea are watching from the Control Room lounge, where they can be ready to command defense if something happens.
Serrentuk adjusts his new glasses a bit, admiring his improved eyesight as he observes everything around him. “It may be a bit inconvenient for me to fight like this, but it is quite nice to be able to see again.”
“If Zuzia is able to approach you, Father, then Sir Neith and I will have failed.”
“Please be careful,” insists Amalaskae nervously as she fidgets. “Zuzia is a gentle girl from a small town, so she’s not used to violence. But, if she’s forced to fight…”
“We’ll handle it, my Lady,” replies Daniel, looking at Serrentuk for reassurance.
The elven sages both nod in agreement.
“First, let’s take care of this,” replies the more ancient sorcerer. “You won’t have to worry about Zuzia if I defeat you all here.”
“As soon as I stow Nemaisol, you have to resist.”
“I will. But, if the pain lasts too long, I fear I may be useless to aid Sir Neith.”
Daniel nods. Everyone knows the stakes, and protecting Zuzia will mean extreme danger for everyone involved. “If you have to abort the mission to survive, do what you have to do. We’ll redirect after the fire. There’s more than one way to stall for time against Yaulander.”
“I’ll be evacuating Sundenelle in a few moments,” states Xyreko. “It seems Neith is about to make his move.”
“Understood. Ready, Sir?” asks the mechanic towards the elven sage.
“Yes. Take your time and do it right.” Serrentuk smiles at Senn, adding, “And, be patient Senn. I have already died far more than once. I can take a little pain in exchange for freedom.” His eyes glisten, and he tilts his head back as he closes them in order to resist the tears forming and falling.
Serrentuk rolls his robes down from his shoulders, showing his back to Daniel. It’s unclear if he needs to specifically touch the contract mark or not, but they decide to play it safe.
“Ooo…” murmurs Daniel, and Doephluev approaches him.
“What is it?” asks Senn worriedly.
Daniel’s expression doesn’t match what he answers with, since it’s far, far worse, but he decides it’s better not to say. “The, uh,... contract mark is more elaborate than the ones on the dragons.”
“That’s similar to the one used on Hekate,” replies Doephluev. Daniel has seen Hekate’s as well, though it was only during their early days together, and he wasn’t studying every inch of her body, since he was more worried about trying to preserve her modesty as much as possible. It is on her back, like Serrentuk’s, but that’s all Daniel can really remember.
He is thankful that the archoneldwyn picked up what he was trying to keep hidden, and Serrentuk says quietly, “It should be fine. Whenever you’re ready, let’s finish quickly.”
“Right,” replies Daniel. He feels bad touching the elf’s back, but it’s clear that it’s far beyond the point of mattering now.
After all, there aren’t any especially fresh wounds on Serrentuk’s back, since they were healed with the potations and magic used to revive and heal him when he was delivered by Amalaskae.
Instead, his entire back is riddled with the scars of a whip or some other similar tool of regular punishment, some having faded from centuries, and others scarred further by newer scars.
“Focus on the spell, Daniel,” states Ryukana. “I won’t allow him to leave the room, if need be.”
“Thank you, my Lady,” replies the elf thankfully, as Daniel gives her a respectful dip of his head in appreciation.
Xyreko projects the words of the spell on the wall, and Daniel flexes his fingers on Nemaisol’s hilt.
Daniel counts down, “On the word ‘go’. Three, two, one, go.” With this, he sheathes Nemaisol, and Serrentuk flinches slightly forward. Expecting something, Daniel keeps his hand on his back. He can’t waste time, so he immediately starts reading the spell out loud. As with the dragons, he is reading a bunch of phonetic gibberish that has no meaning to him, but is laid out exactly as he needs to say it on the board.
Serrentuk groans as the contract starts to impose its compulsion more and more strongly.
Doephluev immediately starts casting her own spell, and Daniel can see and feel the static tingle of the energy pass over his shoulder to reach the elven sorcerer.
“Remember to keep your interference to a minimum, Doephluev,” warns Vaergraes. “This isn’t performed very often.”
“It’s no good if he keeps trying to double over,” retorts Doephluev.
Serrentuk is breathing with a sort of relief, but he is still tense. “That helped a lot, thank you… I clearly wasn’t as ready as I thought…”
“Father?”
“Stay calm, Senn. I… urgghh… I can… do this… much…”
Even with Doephluev’s spell to nullify the pain, he is still struggling. The contract mark is starting to glow more vibrantly, and Daniel can feel the heat coming from it. It’s even starting to illuminate vein-like patterns extending away from it under the elven sage’s skin. Daniel keeps his focus on reading. His leather gloves will resist the heat for a bit, but if it keeps getting more intense, it might not be Serrentuk who is driven to escape the pain. It’s not the spell that’s hurting him, after all; it’s the compulsion from the contract mark.
Doephluev calls out, “I think we should use something to bind him. He’s pretty tense.”
Serrentuk’s hand is locked tightly in an open, curved shape like he’s trying to not form a fist, but his fingers are flexing inwards, similar to the playful “claw” a parent might do with their children.
But, of course, this is no children’s game.
“Do it…!” grunts out Serrentuk. “I don’t think I can… Gaahh!”
“Father!” exclaims Senn, but everyone flinches as an object materializes in the elder elven sage’s hand.
Sensing the danger, the fastest one to react is Yaulwembor. With a violent click that immediately starts a crackling low roar like a butane torch, the Faormyr ignites her pilot flame.
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Serrentuk calls out, “I’m sorry…! Run!”
His hand moves against his will, and magic starts to coalesce around the crystal matrix of a magical staff that, in spite of being detached for possibly hundreds of years, has small leaves and twigs growing as if the staff is completely alive.
Senn summons her own staff, but she’s already behind her father, who is a far older magician, even if he has been a slave for a long time. And, unlike her, he doesn’t seem to need to chant
of his spells, which makes it almost impossible to predict what spell he’s about to use.
thinks Daniel to himself, struggling to keep his focus and read the words that he has to speak. His hand is feeling the heat now, and he’s pretty sure his glove is starting to cook from the smell of smoke. But, given what’s about to happen, it could be coming from any number of individuals around him right now.
Magnir shouts for Roetta to evacuate Treia while he rushes to Aoloan and Kera’tai. They are powerful mages in their own right, but they won’t be able to evacuate quickly enough, and they won’t be able to withstand Serrentuk, let alone Yaulwembor if she attacks without regard to collateral.
Daniel wants to ask how, though in a more frustrated, vulgar way. He’s barely able to keep the spell he’s reading going, and Serrentuk is an ancient and powerful sorcerer. Even now, Daniel can feel his body starting to power up as he unleashes his mana.
Vaergraes manages to create a barrier in the nick of time that intercepts Serrentuk’s first spell, which only works on the first of a laser-like blast. However, Yaulwembor manages to copy it effortlessly, and it becomes a hellish barrage of shrieking laser-blasts that explode and flash through the room. Because of her ability to defend, and her slow approach towards the elven sorcerer, his compelled body focuses on trying to eliminate the greatest threat.
Doephluev tries to cast a binding spell, but a second, ghostly apparition of Serrentuk appears, tethered to his body but focused on her. She gasps and flinches back. Even the ghostly version is struggling to avoid looking at Daniel, and the mechanic realizes that even now, the elven sorcerer is dedicating his entire willpower to protecting the defenseless human, regardless of what it costs him as a second and third ghostly presence of himself emerges from his own body; multiple separate ‘minds’ able to independently cast spells. One focuses on Senn, another on Vaergraes, and the third on Doephluev as his real body keeps trading fire with Yaulwembor, who snarls at him while maintaining her pilot flame and her fearless approach to try to reach Daniel.
“Daniel… Hurry…” call out all four voices of Serrentuk together. He tries to stop his attacks, which Doephluev uses teleportation to evacuate from, and Senn is deperately trying to intercept his attacks with nullification or other counterspells, but she can’t keep up with him.
Daniel is just starting to say the elven sorcerer’s true name, meaning he’s getting close to the end, “Calliodel…!”
Even so, Serrentuk is losing more and more of his resistance as the burning starts to sear into Daniel’s hand, which is causing him to wince and struggle to keep hold. “Venjurun…!”
Daniel can feel the pain fighting for dominion over Daniel’s mind. His insticts scream at him to retreat his hand, but he forces himself to endure. He’s running out of time.
“Serrentuk!”
Just two more sentences of gibberish. Daniel can do that.
Maybe.
Tears start to fall from Daniel’s eyes, and his hand is screaming at him. He can’t lose control now, so he is forced to make a gamble, particularly when the alter-mind Serrentuk turns its focus against his own resistance, and it makes eye contact with Daniel. Meanwhile, several multi-layer spells are forming, and it actually stops Yaulwembor with sudden fear.
Whatever the spell is, aimed in three directions by three of the four Serrentuk ‘minds’, it has the most powerful and gifted sorceress present frightened for even a moment.
The mechanic has no choice. He has to chance it.
Daniel throws his free left hand over Serrentuk’s shoulder and around his neck, pulling the elf backwards as the human throws his legs around the sorcerer’s waist, using his body weight to topple Serrentuk.
The elven sage, so focused on fighting himself as the compelled parts of his body prepare to annihilate everything in the room, has absolutely no footing against Daniel’s 180+ pounds (~82+ kg) with his gear acting as an uncentered weight on the rigid sorcerer’s unprepared stance.
The mechanic’s back slams onto the floor as he does his best to shout the words over all of the noise, grappling Serrentuk while trying to find the wall again to keep reading the spell.
One sentence to go.
“Separate him from his staff!” shouts Ryukana, since the dopplegangers are stumbled, but still able to launch attacks.
Yaulwembor, having gained a moment, makes a yelping sound that Daniel believes is her “Are you alright!?” type of cry meant for him. Regardless, the others do their best to try to target Serrentuk’s staff, which is flattened on the ground with him as he tries to maneuver it to use it.
Daniel can only focus on the spell. Each word feels like it takes forever, and he nearly loses it all when his heart stops. The end of Serrentuk’s staff aims directly at his face from his right side, and for a moment, Daniel’s life flashes before his eyes.
Daniel shouts as he looks away from the staff, which starts to glow, ignoring the cries of his own name. “Fol-woll-gatta, Masztjaff, Blue-vollk!”
Scree-crah-oooooom!
This sound blasts Daniel’s ears as he’s all but screaming the last two syllables of the final word of the spell, praying it takes hold and hijacks Serrentuk, if only to free him from the Contarro family.
The mechanic isn’t sure what he feels in the next moments, since everything seems to go dark and silent. He feels like Serrentuk shifts in his arms, but he can’t tell what’s going on.
Daniel can’t see or hear anything, but he can tell the weight leaves his chest, only to be replaced by grasping, almost clawing hands.
He tries to speak, but he can’t even tell if words are coming out.
thinks the mechanic to the only person he can communicate with right now.
Daniel’s heart starts pounding, and he runs through everything it could possibly be. Cancer, instant-AIDS, acute mana or radiation poisoning, and the obvious of permanent blindness, deafness, and muteness are all options that immediately plague him.
But then, the way she avoided the answer makes it all fall into place.
Something about her hesitation is more reassuring than not. He can tell he’s alive, since he can somewhat feel his muscles, though his hand is in immense pain, with someone grappling his wrist and trying to look at his fingers.
Daniel sighs internally, since he doesn’t seem to be able to really control himself much. He’s not sure if his eyes are ‘dead’, or if he’s somehow partially concussed. He remembers a movie that the main character was in a similar state, where he was supposed to be put under for surgery, but was actually conscious the whole time. Daniel feels like that, right now. He can’t see, and in his case, he can’t hear, but he is conscious and can tell what’s happening to his body.
And, from what he can tell, there is a disagreement about what to do.
***
Moments before the instant death spell, Treia is remaining near the door. She would likely only get in the way normally, but Serrentuk is doing his best to restrain himself. The uncontrolled part of him that’s fighting everyone has to prioritize the more powerful mages in the room, meaning Vaergraes, Kera’tai, and Aoloan can try to defend the others if their own defenses falter. Arachne is forced to stay back as well, since she doesn’t have much magical skill yet, in spite of her growing mana, according to the others. Worse, she is the largest target, meaning she is the most in danger if Serrentuk targets her. Illianna’s priority is protecting Vaergraes, even if that means she has to dive in front of her Archpriestess and Empress.
Treia’s thoughts narrow in on Daniel, though. He uses his own body weight to disrupt Serrentuk’s apparent powerful attack, which gave Yaulwembor pause. It works, though the ghostly versions of the elven sorcerer remain standing, halted from casting the big spell, but able to fire off the attack spells.
Their attention is split, and they’re all ignoring the weaker mages.
“Separate him from his staff!” calls out Ryukana. The goddesses would likely be able to end the fight instantly, but they are
to avoid direct intervention in most matters. Treia doesn’t understand why, necessarily, but after what happened to Amalaskae, it may be for the best. One wouldn’t think that a goddess can be killed, but the clumsy ‘younger’ goddess was pushed right up to the line if not.
Treia looks at the staff. It’s not the first handheld superweapon she has had to deal with. She did everything she could to get to Daniel in order to help him draw Nemaisol while he was being bombarded by the clash between Byleathea’s divine spell and the Lurker’s curse that is bound to Daniel.
Now, a staff is the source of a powerful mage’s attacks, or at least, helps channel and boost them with greater precision than what Yaulwembor can do.
The faormyr is pretty much single-handedly parrying every one of the powerful ranged attacks Serrentuk is launching, but the most important thing Treia notices is what Daniel has made use of many, many times so far.
As far as the cataclysmic powerhouses are concerned, Treia doesn’t exist.
She isn’t worth paying attention to as long as she’s at range, because she doesn’t have
talent with magic, and at best, can perform basic survival spells like igniting a fire or signalling the troops with the flare spell.
The problem would be reaching it.
Treia looks around. It would be suicide for her to approach on the ground, no matter how low she can keep her body and run. Unlike humans, gatonines, especially ones that stay fit, can “belly-slide”, as humans call it, where their run keeps their torso inches from the ground. It’s difficult, but can be effective for sneaking up swiftly on an enemy.
More than likely, when Bellstram ambushed Daniel what feels like forever ago, she did exactly that. But, even doing so, Treia won’t be able to close the distance without being noticed. Not with so many chaotic spells exploding all around trying to overwhelm Yaulwembor’s and Senn’s mana.
That’s when Treia looks at Arachne.
“Arachne! Throw me!”
“What?” asks the giant, multi-legged woman.
“I have to get close! Throw me across the ground! Belly slide!” Treia runs towards Arachne, and though the Death Knight hesitates, she reacts with appropriate haste. She spins as she catches Treia’s hands, swooping the gatonine around with increasing speed and force. If it were to continue, Treia is certain she would lose her stomach contents from dizziness, but Arachne only does a single revolution before launching the feline former sergeant on her belly across the ground. Her buttons, belt buckle, and other metallic pieces on her jacket and pants outfit screech on the floor as she keeps her elbows up and hands ready. She can hear the others crying out as a flash of dark energy seems to be directed at Daniel, “Daniel!” “Daniel!”
Even Yaulwembor ‘barks’ with a loud, fast sound rather than her usual growls or the powerful roars she used in battle before.
She uses her agility to spring herself up off of her belly, essentially flopping like a sliding fish, but sailing through the air more like a cat’s surprised bounce. She is only a few inches off of the floor with her forward arc, and her eyes are locked onto the wooden tool of magic.
She doesn’t realize the dopplegangers are already stumbling, and Yaulwembor is already closing in behind her.
The gatonine passes over the two men locked in grapple, and her hands spring forward, snatching the staff. She yanks as hard as she can, praying that there isn’t some sort of magical defense or curse on the object. She realizes only as she’s twisting her body weight in midair to forcibly seize the wooden bough that what she’s doing could be extremely dangerous. Serrentuk is an ancient sage and could likely electrocute her.
Regardless, she manages to separate the staff from him, and she tumbles across the ground with the staff. She finishes her tumble in a tight, low slide on her free right hand and feet, using her superior gatonine agility and flexibility to stay in a movement-ready position.
Yaulwembor, Doephluev, Senn, and Vaergraes have all closed the distance, with the faormyr dragging the elven sorcerer off of Daniel. He coughs as he holds his hands up diplomatically in surrender, and Kera’tai and Aoloan rush in to try to keep her from hurting him. Daniel did his best to prepare her for the goal of this moment, and he hoped that no one possessing firearms would help reaffirm that they know Serrentuk will be dangerous, but they need him alive.
Fortunately, Yaulwembor is satisfied that the ancient sorcerer is no longer a threat. She drops him, and though his feet land, he falls backwards into Illianna’s arms, who had approached as well.
“Daniel!” exclaim the three who focused on him. “Daniel wake up! Daniel!”
Treia jogs close, still holding Serrentuk’s staff and keeping as many allies between herself and him as possible. “What’s wrong? Did the spell land?”
Daniel’s face looks alright, so it can’t have been a direct-effect spell, like fire or the laser blasts.
“He’s breathing, but he’s not responding!” exclaims Doephluev. “This can’t be!”
“Stay with us, Daniel!” adds Vaergraes urgently.
Senn starts casting a spell, but it doesn’t seem to have much effect.
Treia looks around, and Illianna is the one to answer her worried gaze. “It carried heavy dark elemental magic. It’s a powerful spell.”
“Instant Death…” murmurs Serrentuk. “I tried, but…”
Treia looks at the human. He’s still breathing, and his eyes are open, but they don’t seem to be moving around or seeing anything.
Doephluev screams, “Whoever keeps trying to talk to me, shut up!” She’s crying as she tries to cast her own healing spells, but it’s odd. Though she’s worrying as well, Treia notices that no one was talking to her, other than Treia trying to find out information from whoever speaks.
“Is there some sort of dispel!?” asks Kera’tai as she approaches Daniel.
“No…” replies Serrentuk. “It’s exactly what it sounds like…”
“But, he’s not dead…” retorts Treia. “So, is it ‘instant death’ or not?”
Serrentuk is silent for a moment.
A female voice seems to enter Treia’s mind, rather than her ears. She’s not completely unfamiliar with telepathy, but most people don’t use it on her, since she doesn’t have enough mana to really respond.
But, this feels different. She looks at Ryukana and Amalaskae, who are jogging closer, but neither of them are focused on her.
Treia whispers, “Who are you?”
“Treia?” asks Aoloan.
She glances at the succubus, but the voice returns.
“Sorry, thinking out loud,” replies Treia to Aoloan, who still hadn’t received an answer. She then says loudly, “We need Yaulwembor to help heal him. She should have enough mana, since he’s still alive.”
“The curse made him immune again, didn’t it?” asks Illianna.
“No,” replies Kera’tai, realizing that Treia might be right. “She was able to use hypnosis magic on him through sheer mana-power.” She then says to everyone, “Get ready to use a synchronized healing spell!” She looks at Serrentuk. “Lord Serrentuk, are you able to use healing magic?”
“I can. It’s definitely worth a try. But, if I burn through all of my mana now…”
“Worry about that after we recover Daniel!” snaps Kera’tai. “You’re effectively free now, thanks to him!”
“Of course.”
Serrentuk wearily approaches Treia, and she grips the staff for a moment. “Are we sure you’re no longer under that contract?”
The elven sorcerer smiles gently, glancing at Daniel briefly. He turns around, showing his back to the gatonine as he says calmly, “You tell me.”
Treia gasps and drops the staff. There is only one new wound on his back; a hand-print that is burned into his flesh like a brand, and she snaps her gaze to Daniel’s hand. Both are smoking faintly, and the flesh of Daniel’s hand is pale white and pink, and it’s oozing clear fluids with black charring.
“Wh-What are we…?” asks Senn as she looks towards the small group seeming to have a plan, and she gasps when she sees Serrentuk’s back.
The scarring is extensive, layered, and brutal, given the scattered patterns of the marks. In the center behind where his heart would be, whatever mark was there has been replaced by a palm print that is burned into his skin with the same severe damage that has marked Daniel’s hand, but the magic contract emblem is even more readily recognizable. Even now, Ryuogriar bears it primarily on her left breast over her heart, though the magic version of it has long-since been removed.
It is a delicate, infinite knot-like shape with four ‘leaves’ formed by the shape, and a non-Zenkon writing of Daniel’s name across the mark.
Naturally, the shock isn’t the contract mark, but the scarring on Serrentuk’s back. Everyone’s trances are broken when the elven sage pulls his robe back up. He winces a little as the fabric touches the burn.
Without complaint, Serrentuk simply adjusts his new glasses on his face and reclaims his staff, which began hovering nearby him since Treia dropped it.
“Before you begin,” cuts in Xyreko. She’s crouching next to Daniel to monitor him as well, and her golem form gives no indications of her thoughts. “Neith just reported that he has engaged Zuzia. Lord Serrentuk will need to be deployed immediately.”
“What!?” hisses Doephluev.
“Lord Serrentuk is right,” replies the golem as she stands up. “He needs his mana to fend off Zuzia and capture her when she’s weak enough. Daniel is alive, so…”
The talking seems to irritate Yaulwembor, and she steps up, somewhat gracelessly shoving her way to Daniel. She leans over him and kisses him, though it looks a little odd with her more reptilian muzzle. Dozens of magic circles fill the room, surprising everyone, including Serrentuk.
The elder elven sage asks distantly, “I remember legends about the faormyrs, but… How have you befriended one?”
Golden light descends on the room, momentarily blinding the group.
When they can see, Daniel is coughing himself back to life.
“Hooooly hell!” coughs out the human.
“Daniel!” exclaim the others.
“What did she do?” asks Treia.
The faormyr looks rather smug, and she makes a purring noise as she glomps onto him.
Serrentuk chuckles, “She seems to have used every spell she knows for
recovery, as well as spells to transfer self-targeting spells to someone else.”
“She couldn’t just use healing?” asks Kera’tai.
“She probably doesn’t know many healing spells,” replies Vaergraes softly, though her own expression is tender as she checks on Daniel.
The ancient elven sorcerer smiles tenderly as he watches everyone check on Daniel, including his own daughter. He says seriously, “Senn, I’m going on ahead.”
“Father, I’ll…”
“Stay and make sure everything here stabilizes. Neith and I should be able to fend off Zuzia.” He adds softly, “And,... I don’t want anyone else to be put at risk.”
“But…” starts the younger elf. She still likely has more years than everyone present other than Serrentuk combined, but she only just got her father back after a very long time.
“We’ll watch over the battle,” replies Ryukana seriously, gesturing to Amalaskae. “We’ll do what we need to in order to keep everyone alive, at least.”
Senn is hesitant, but Daniel manages to sit up. “I have no objections either way. There are advantages and disadvantages to both sides. If either of you know how to fight a mana fire, Neith will understand.” He then adds seriously, “I promised Serrentuk a chance to help Zuzia, though. He’s probably the only one with a ranged void spell that can capture her.”
“Daniel, you need to rest,” insists Doephluev as she tries to pull him onto her lap. But, he resists her for a change, saying, “No, no. Listen, we’re all better off never letting the First Four know about this, and I feel fine again. Just a momentary blindness from a bright light.”
They all scowl at him, and the mechanic adds, “Serrentuk obviously chose a spell he knew I would survive, deep down. If he used that laser blast again, my face would have been melted off.”
“He probably didn’t want to melt his own face,” retorts Treia bitterly.
Daniel scratches his cheek, but he tries to force the subject back off of him. “Regardless, the priority is to keep Zuzia away from Yaulander until we can get her back here. If we can, anti-magic rounds to keep telepathy from working on her would be nice, but… It’s a little different for civilians who may or may not have ever been around firearms to begin with. We know from a young age, typically, how dangerous they are.”
The mechanic climbs wearily to his feet, though Yaulwembor’s powerful magic has pretty well cleared him of all of his recent injuries, bruises, and ailments. He pets the draconid-woman’s head, saying gently, “Thank you, Yaulwembor. I feel great.”
Whether or not she understands his words, she is fine with his gently touch, and she coos approvingly.
“Daniel…” urges Kera’tai softly. “You don’t have to
proving how strong you are to us…”
Daniel scoffs. “It’s not that. This went alright, overall. We all used our strengths or, in my case, weaponized weakness, in order to free Serrentuk.” Daniel hands over a bag from within his void bag, saying, “There’s a pile of potations in there. Use them as heavily as you need them.”
The elven sorcerer nods, and Daniel says, “Zuzia needs our help, and only two people right now are unassociated with the Fievegal, both of whom are in this room.” He gestures at Serrentuk and Senn. True enough, though she’s in the visible form that is known to be a Fievegal Empress now, Senn herself is widely known as a free-agent and neutral entity on the world stage. “So, we have only two people we can readily deploy right now. The rest of us will be deploying very soon as well.”
Daniel gets a few sighs of exasperation and irritation from his friends and family, but they know who he is by now. He is making an effort to be more careful, but even when he does, there are still precarious elements.
“I promise I’ll remove the contract from you as soon as possible, Lord Serrentuk.”
The elven sorcerer nods, since it has been the agreement all along, and Daniel has given him no reason to doubt it. The elder man then says to Senn as he cups her cheek, “Senn, stay and help everyone here, please. I trust you to handle any issue where I cannot presently be, and I trust you to contact me if you need help, as I will if Neith and I cannot keep her off balance.”
Senn finally agrees softly. She hugs him, saying, “Be careful, Father. If I tell Daniel to punish you, he will.”
Everyone shares a laugh, and the group leaves the contract room. Daniel has to go check on the dragons, which will turn into a whole debacle. From the looks of things via the illusion magic Xyreko is using to project the event to the Citadel, though, Jeavana has joined the three Empresses, since her own egg is hatching already, which is early, but seems fitting given how certain Jeavana was that it
happen so soon.
They see Serrentuk and a handful of disposable golems off at the hangar before Daniel rushes to the hatching room.
It’s strange for Daniel, to a degree, to have to focus on something so ‘
like the hatching, since the fire is an ominous state of being. But, as he has said himself, they need to have some level of patience, and as long as they engage it long before it reaches the maximum range of a nuke’s blast, which is a few days away, then the most certain, but most double-edged method Daniel can use is still available to them.
The next few days are going to be messy, and he hopes that the hatching will be a nice shot of adrenaline in everyone’s arms to get them through.
***