20demayo Chapter 140: Kezda
Chapter 140: Kezda
Evanna Quillmore the Scribe
Aliandra
Ali surveyed the damage in the library, annoyed to find one of the couches burned beyond repair and a table sliced cleanly in two by the random beams of light magic that had left scorch marks everywhere.
She checked in a sudden panic, but the pile of borrowed books Ryn had left out for her on the larger table had been spared, as had the bookcase with their library’s modest collection of books. The tea set was undamaged too, and Lira busied herself brewing a pot while they chatted quietly about monsters and incursions.
“Here you go, dear,” Lira said, handing her a cup of tea. “And don’t forget to eat something, it’s well past dinner time.”
As she inhaled the delightful combination of steam and aroma from the tea, she retrieved an apple picked by Mato from her trees in the Forest Cavern to serve as her dinner, a little chagrined that she had needed Lira – a person who sustained herself entirely on photosynthesis or mana absorption – to remind her to feed herself. she thought. It was strange to be alone – the library was quiet, now, with only her and Lira – she missed Mato’s delicious cooking and his rough-and-ready sense of humor.
Calen was off somewhere with Lyeneru, and she just hoped he was safe, and while she knew Malika was out of danger, she still missed her, and hoped her health returned to normal quickly.
Sipping at her tea and munching a delicious apple, she sat at the still-intact table and duplicated the books Ryn had left for her. She had found a practical nature magic reference which gave Ali a couple of immediate ideas for improving her runic circles, and the third book in a delightful series they had both enjoyed. With both the libraries of Myrin’s Keep and Vertias to draw from, the stack of books was twice the size, but Ali finished them far too quickly. Sometimes she wished her Reading skill was just a little slower, so she had more time to savor the stories.
She wrote a short note for Ryn, asking to check with the bank tomorrow and see if her cut from the sale of mana-purified water had been deposited, and if so, to buy a replacement for the couch.
It was by far the most valuable thing she could make, even considering the fact that the nature-affinity magicite was nowhere near the most useful to crafters and enchanters. She had made gold coins to purchase the library membership at Vertias, but she far preferred to make a raw material and sell it instead – at least that way a useful item would be created, and one of the crafters might be able to earn experience.
While Lira puttered about, Ali plopped herself down on the good couch and pulled out – Lyeneru’s book detailing her dungeon delves and exploration experiences – and began to read.
She waded her way through the account of the first delve. She struggled, but not because it was particularly difficult to read. Lyeneru had written it as both a caution to – and an educational resource for – adventurers and delvers and Ali had to infer the intent and function of the dungeon from the outside perspective. She needed to know the dungeon made bosses, traps, and the like, and the text only described what they did and how they had been defeated.
The first dungeon had been known simply as ‘by the adventurers who had plumbed its depths because of its penchant for continuously spewing monsters into the countryside, scouring the land for many kilometers in all directions for anything not nailed down – and quite a lot that was. Everything was returned and fed to the dungeon, and when there was nothing to find, the dungeon simply ejected monsters in a continuous stream of dungeon-breaks.
When the dungeon grew large enough to begin impacting the nearby cities, the Pathfinder Guild had been contracted to take care of the problem.
Lyeneru described as deranged or unhinged. It was a dungeon that was filled with a chaotic reflection of everything it had collected, all thrown together in a haphazard, chaotic mess that followed no rhyme or reason. It had made a collection of couches at the bottom of a lake, caves filled with teacups, and bedroom armoires lined the boss room. There were chests that would come alive and bite the unwary, and each thing was equally as likely to be trapped or not.
Even the traps followed no clear pattern – some being of such devious construction that they had required days of planning to disarm and others presenting a fresh flower when triggered.
“I despise lies and excuses,” Rezan chided. “What did you ”
It was frustrating to be overwhelmed by someone so much slower than her, but Malika focused her thoughts on the fight. “I can’t see his rock abilities; they must be mana.” She considered her struggles for a few more moments, “I can see the energy of his punches and I was able to hit him if I attacked from the air.”
“Good,” Rezan said. “At least you were paying attention. Basir’s sight works through the earth. It is both a strength and a weakness. The fact that you were able to figure it out and test it in battle is the only good thing about your fight.”
Malika’s eyes dropped to the floor at his harsh feedback.
“Malika,” Rezan said, taking an annoyingly sagely tone. “One of the most important lessons for a warrior who cares about getting stronger is to objectively assess one’s own skill. Basir is not faster than you. Nor did you lose because he is more powerful. He is simply better than you. He has had more training and he’s a lot more experienced. He uses his skills better. Once you accept the truth of this, you can step forward and become stronger.”
Malika looked up at Rezan but found no contempt in his gaze. It was a brutal assessment, but one which had been honestly given. She nodded, not really trusting herself to speak.
“Basir, what is your assessment?” Rezan asked.
He paused in thought for a moment before answering, “I spent too much time evaluating her at the start. She is much stronger than I expected. She takes an enormous amount of damage and just keeps coming back. I almost ran out of mana and stamina.” He looked at Malika, “How do you have so much mana to keep healing and fighting?”
Malika had no idea the fight had been close. Basir had seemed such an unstoppable force, that she had never considered she might outlast him.
Seeing no reason to hide her abilities from the Elder and his disciple, she explained, “I have a Relentless aptitude that improves stamina regeneration and lets me spend stamina instead of mana for any skill. Also, Clarity lets me meditate in combat. Oh, and I can exchange mana for stamina with my Second Wind skill.”
“Relentless is a good word for what that was,” Basir told her.
Rezan nodded sagely. “Clarity will serve you well. From now on, Malika, you will concede any bout that lasts longer than ten minutes. That will be your handicap.”
“Why do I get a handicap?” Malika asked.
“You rely on your skills too much,” Rezan said. “You need training in how to use your skills more effectively, and strategically. If your only strategy is punching and dodging until your opponent runs out of mana or stamina, you will always lose to smarter or better-trained opponents. Learning to be a more intelligent fighter will help you more than a few thousand points of extra stamina or some skill levels.”
Malika realized Rezan’s intentions were far from the superficial pettiness that she had childishly assumed. She had noticed that both Basir and Hala’s respect for him did not seem in any way forced. “I understand, Elder,” she said.
“When you both recover your stamina, you will fight again,” Rezan said. “I expect you to learn something new.”
“Against Basir again?” Malika asked.
“Yes, you are not ready to face Hala yet,” Rezan said. “She faster and more powerful than you.”
“She’s stronger than Basir?” Malika asked, looking at the slender, quiet girl.
“Stronger than you,” Rezan repeated. “Basir has learned to win two out of five bouts with Hala, through strategy, training, and hard work. His rock storm and accuracy with his rock armor are the result of training regularly with a faster opponent.”
“I see,” Malika said, her eyes taking in Hala with new curiosity.
“While we wait, Malika, you will study this chapter,” Rezan told her, retrieving one of the books of Ahn Khen. “Get a pen and paper, I will translate it for you. This book is called ‘The Path of the Fist’. It and ‘The Path of the Soul’ will be the most useful for you.”
The rest of the day was spent studying under Rezan’s tutelage, punctuated by brutal sparring matches against Basir. Rezan allowed her to try one match against Hala, but Malika had found herself on her back staring at the clouds before she had even seen Hala move.
Rezan expected her to apply the material from the book immediately to her matches, but when she struggled, he was quick to demonstrate the proper technique and application. She felt her understanding of her skills and their application to combat growing in leaps and bounds, and even her actual skill levels grew significantly. But in one way, she had made frustratingly little progress.
“Why can I not get through Basir’s armor?” she asked, letting some of her frustration creep into her voice. “Nothing in the book is helping with that.”
“You are simply too weak, Malika,” Rezan said patiently. He must have noticed the frustration because he elaborated. “Your strength attribute is very low.”
“But my class and skills use dexterity?”
“Dexterity is speed and accuracy,” Rezan said. “Your class rewards you for investing heavily in dexterity, but what good is a high-speed, perfectly placed attack if you’re hitting with a feather? Think of your dexterity directing your power to the most effective spot. Your power is multiplied by your accuracy. You won’t need a lot, but do not neglect strength, it’s the other side of the power equation.”
As she sat and waited for her mana and stamina to regenerate, she considered all she had learned in one day. She could already tell Soul Sight would become an incredible combat tool, allowing her to predict the movement of her opponents once she became proficient with it – it would simply be a matter of practice and training.
Off to the side, near the edge of her range, she suddenly saw the energy of a small person, hovering there, as if uncertain. She turned her head to see the girl who had been watching her bouts. The sun was sinking low in the sky and the day, fading to the chill of the evening in the mountains. Beneath the grime, torn dress, and gauntness of frame that bordered on unhealthy, Malika saw a surprisingly intense energy and intelligence behind curious blue eyes.
“Thank you for showing your skills,” the girl said, stepping forward shyly to offer a small ring of peacebloom flowers. The thanks were traditionally offered for friendship or sharing, but Malika got the distinct impression that it was more personal for her.
“I’m Malika,” she said, taking the offered peacebloom necklace and putting it on.
“I’m Sabri,” she replied. “You’re strong – I wish I could fight like you.”
Malika chuckled wryly. “I lost every match today.”
“Nobody lasts more than a minute against Basir, that’s not very exciting,” Sabri answered. “You were fun to watch, and you made him use all his abilities.” And then she bowed and sprinted off.
Malika wasn’t sure what that was all about, other than the girl seemed shy. But her gesture was sweet, and it made her smile.
“You have an admirer,” Basir observed from where he sat. “Sabri is always watching the bouts in the ring, but I’ve never seen her interact with anyone like that before.”
“She has a really powerful energy,” Malika said. “I think she would make a great fighter.” She couldn’t help but notice the complex emotions that flickered across Rezan’s face at her words.
“Your energy has changed; did you earn an advancement?” Rezan asked, conspicuously changing the subject.
Malika decided not to pursue it, instead sharing the advances she had earned from her day of sparring and studying.
and then, as if the mere act of reading her advances was the trigger, a new notification popped up. She sucked in her lips.
Enlightened Evasion – level 25
Requires: No body armor or shield equipped.
Your ability to dodge is supernatural, you are even able to dodge area, magical, and explosion damage.
Stamina: Your martial arts grants insight into avoiding attacks. While unencumbered by armor, your Evasion is increased by +685 Reserve: 10%
Physical, Melee, Defense, Dexterity
Coming out of her brief introspection, she realized Rezan was waiting patiently for her. Malika immediately shared her potential advancement.
“That is strong, I recommend taking it,” Rezan said, offering his opinion after taking a little time to reflect upon it. “You did well today.”
After all the harsh critique and lost bouts, the advancement and his praise felt well earned. She nodded briefly. “Thank you.”
“However, your unlock requirements seem rather extreme, perhaps we should talk about what you did to earn those,” he added.
Malika grimaced at his tone. “Ali has a habit of continuously shooting fireballs at our tank to get rid of monster hordes,” she replied. In fact, it seemed to be her favorite strategy now.
“Hmm. Tell me more?”
As she described their evolving strategy to the stoic monk, she realized that the rest of her achievements contributing to unlocking the skill advancement were rather telling. Both Alexander Gray’s blight aura and the Death Wight’s aura had been critical to the skill advancing, and in both cases, she had spent significant time immersed in the continuous damage they emitted.
She assumed Rezan’s mentorship enchantment, and the strenuous training today had played a large part in earning the advancement too, and it was curious that he hadn’t mentioned it. She knew he wanted her as a student, and she still had a decision to make. But he seemed to be sincere about not pushing her.
Suddenly, she noticed the second change to her skill, and she stared, scarcely believing her eyes. In addition to dodging area and magic damage, her skill also now provided two points of evasion per point of dexterity.
She accepted the advancement, growing excited for the opportunity to test it out against Basir’s storm of stones, and maybe even have another go at Hala’s lightning.
Mato
It was late afternoon when Mato arrived at Sigurd’s farm. He stopped and surveyed the blackened, dead fields with a grimace – the damage was far more extensive than he had expected or imagined. No crops were growing, and most of the trees seemed to be dead or dying – the damage to the natural ecosystem was clearly extensive. In fact, could he see a single fresh green shoot or bud anywhere?
If all the farms were like this, there was no way they would be able to grow enough for everyone.
When he knocked on the door, Sigurd answered quickly.
“Oh, I’m so glad you came!” he said, and quickly showed him around, pointing out the most important areas and fields where the blight was the worst. It was clear that the man was frustrated and at his wits end and there was evidence of many different attempts to circumvent the magical plague and get his farm back into some semblance of shape.
“So, I saw your battle with that bloody Necromancer,” he said, hope laid out plainly on his face. “They told me your tree pushed back the blight – do you think it can work on my fields? I’ve tried everything.”
“I’m fairly certain I can clean up the blight,” he said, estimating the size of the farm and his aura. “It will probably take all night, though.”
Sigurd’s face shone at the news. “That’s fantastic!”
“I’ll get started then.” Mato found a spot where his aura would cover most of the blight and began his transformation. Left unchecked, the undead blight had the potential to expand indefinitely, consuming everything that lived. He extended his roots down into the tilled earth and the rotting decay of the blight and stretched his branches towards the sky. He immediately connected with the calm serenity of the tree as his vision faded and he was left with just his senses of plants and animals, his sanctuary, and his survival instinct. His awareness stretched outward expanding across the fields, connecting with the seeds waiting underground, the plants struggling near the blight, and even the earth itself. The wrongness of the blight gnawed at him as it destroyed life across the farm.
With a rush, his aura expanded to the full extent of his now 845-foot range. His regeneration took hold, and his mana and life energy surged through his trunk and branches, spilling over into the farmland. His sanctuary began to dismantle the deep hold that the blight had on the land, as his life energy attacked it through his aura. There was a sense of rightness to his labors – as the blight dissolved, nature would be restored to balance, and it would be able to recover.
He reached out with his Rampant Growth to the few seeds that were near the slowly receding edge of the blight and delicately encouraged them to grow. He watched with joy as the wheat plants began to sprout under the careful influence of his mana.
Once the blight was eradicated here, he would relocate to the other side of the farm and repeat the process there. As he mused and laid plans in the slow-paced heart of his Tree Form, a notification caught him by surprise.