Kevin Curry
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Mage's Journey 4
🕑 Added 2025-07-01 14:00:13 +0000 UTCTanya made sure to school her features; situations like this were, for someone who had experienced multiple dimensions, particularly perilous. She had once more applied her understanding from previous lives to this one, and it failed. Therefore, she needed to assess the situation.
Her highest priority was to not offend L'Arachel. Not only was she rich and presumably influential, she also apparently was either some kind of psychopath, or simply experienced in the killing of men. Or Tanya could just be overreacting. Either way, she needed to figure out how to respond in a way that didn’t mark her as suspicious, or provoked the axe-wielding madwoman.
Still, there was some clean-up to do. “How many cuts, Sir Dozla?” Tanya asked, switching staves while calmly stepping over the corpse of Sand as she approached him. The bandit’s body gushed out rotten blood, her Harm staff necrotizing sizable portions of his body before he was executed. “I saw two…”
At first, Dozla had complained that she had asked about the injuries, as priestesses usually didn’t bother, but by now he was used to the slower, more academic approach. “Cut below my left arm, on my right shoulder, two on my left thigh, and a nick on my face.”
Good, he was well trained. Tanya directed the healing magic through his circulatory system, as was her usual mnemonic, and after seconds Dozla let out a sigh of relief as his most painful injuries were dealt with. After a few more, the rest were handled and he started taking off his armor to clean.
The aftermath of a pitched battle took a lot longer than the battles themselves, and after about half an hour of using the tiny stream to clean off the blood, sharpen the axes, heal the other injuries, they continued on. All throughout that period, Tanya kept an eye on L'Arachel, but not once did she seem to care about the presence of corpses, right up until they gathered all of the bodies in one place and set them ablaze.
Of course, Mennehl never skipped a chance to give a lesson. He used the pyreflame to call a stronger spirit of flame than he could summon in his fireplace, and bargained with it in the language used for such bargains, called Dragontongue.
Tanya understood it now, mostly. She wasn’t particularly conversational in it, but she memorized the chants for tomemaking, at least. “Great Spirit!” Mennehl shouted, “I offer you these lives,” He spoke another line here, but it wasn’t the normal one. An adjustment to reflect the fact that he was offering human lives, perhaps? She knew that the great fire spirits didn’t distinguish between living and dead bodies, they cared about how much of the body was left and the condition. They’d even accept the organs and bones of livestock, albeit it took a pretty big pile for them to accept such a thing. “ to burn at your pleasure. As the Sacred Compact demands, I ask in return a gift of your flame, to wield against my enemies!”
Flame flowed into Mennehl’s Elfire tome, refilling the pages he had used previously. Tanya counted the pages, and realized that he was being given multiple instances of magic, which was surprising. Was this also related to changing the tribute to human bodies? Interesting. She tried to repeat the phrase she heard, but it was always tricky to hear the subtleties when it was being used, the roaring flame tended to distract things. It sounded a bit like ‘mal-anth-omn’ or something like that. What she knew of dragontongue was irritatingly close to Latin, but she didn’t understand Latin much at all, so she wasn’t actually sure how accurate it was.
Once the bodies were finished being dealt with and all that remained was a pile of ash, Mennehl closed his Elfire tome and stood back up from his kneeling position, checking in with Dozla. “Is her-” He paused, catching himself. Suspicious… “Is the young lady ready to finish our journey? I’m sure she’s worked up quite the appetite.” He said calmly.
“Onward!” L'Arachel declared, pointing her axe forward as her pony obeyed, slowly walking in the indicated direction.
Dozla chuckled. “All right, you’re both welcome to join us at the Inn.”
Mennehl checked the sky. “I can’t, Genivere would be most wroth with me if I was to miss her home cooked supper. But if you could take Tanya with you and bring her to my house afterwards?”
Dozla smacked Mennehl’s back with his meaty palm. “Of course! I wouldn’t dream of denying a young couple time alone!” Mennehl flushed at the implication, but he didn’t dispute it. “I’ll make sure she makes it to the thunder shrine if the rain starts tonight, you enjoy your young wife’s company while you can, lad!”
The scholar laughed awkwardly. “Ah, I appreciate your support, Sir Dozla.” He said nervously.
It took only two more hours to reach the Inn, and Mennehl parted ways with them after receiving a fistful of gold from Dozla’s bulging coin pouch.
The Inn was the nicest one Tanya knew about; supper was a roast duck with spices sufficient that she couldn’t declare this fare as inferior to modern food. It was euphoric to finally eat well; sure, she was able to find some nice food in the Empire while she was testing for Schugel, but that was over eight years ago!
She still missed rice, though.
L'Arachel spent dinner talking about everything and nothing, each retelling of her adventures making them sound grander than they were. Tanya made polite sounds at the appropriate points, but primarily focused on eating the delicious food.
The room they had at the inn was the most expensive room, of course, richly appointed in what Tanya would call a ‘princess’ style, but was likely quite typical in this time period for nobility. One of the employees acted as a maid, not quite undressing L’Arachel for her but certainly taking away the clothes to be washed as they were removed. Tanya initially resisted the maid taking away her traveling clothes, as she might need them during the night, but L’Arachel revealed that she possessed a spare cloak, pristine and worth ten times as much as Tanya’s old one, for Tanya to borrow if needed.
There was a heated bath prepared, and L’Arachel insisted on Tanya joining her. “I must say, Miss Tanya, you comported yourself quite well on our adventure.” L’Arachel chatted after the actual washing was done and they were settling into the hot water.
Tanya was no stranger to proper heated baths, of course, so she was able to settle into it without hesitation. The fire beneath them crackled, with the occasional sound of wood shifting as the inn’s staff tended to the flame. “Ah…” Tanya practically moaned, letting the hot water soothe her muscles. “Well, it wasn’t exactly my first combat situation.” She admitted, “I’ve been helping out the local knight patrols with Mennehl for the last year or so.”
“Really?” L’Arachel said, surprised. “You’re younger than I am…”
“I don’t swing an axe like you do.” Tanya pointed out, waving off her awe. “I’d just hurt myself if I tried.” She lied; she was perfectly capable of swinging an axe or shovel to kill a man if needed. Her arms were fairly weak, true, but that was only because of her size and weight; she’s done plenty of physically demanding chores and it didn’t take that much force to split a skull, or to veto some brigand’s kneecap privileges. Needless to say, she knew how: she wouldn’t have passed the Empire’s military training if she couldn’t. “I just did as I did here; I patched up injuries, nothing more.”
L’Arachel’s eyes narrowed. “What about that other staff? The one you used on the swordsman.”
Ah. “...What do you know about staff magic?” Tanya asked, “Not the practical side, the theoretical. How they’re made.”
L’Arachel frowned. “...” She closed her mouth, thinking hard. “...They’re blessed by God?” She ventured, “The staffs are carved according to the designs of Saint Latona, to channel the blessings of God.” She said, revising her answer to what she was probably told in her first lesson about staff magic.
“While Latona,” If she actually existed instead of being apocryphal, “-may have created the designs, I’ve been learning how to make them.” Tanya said, “It’s part of being Mennehl’s apprentice.” She added, “A typical healing staff is created by condensing and crystallizing medicinal plants. You then magically convey that medicine directly into the injuries of your target, the specifics of which you know well.”
“Right, pray to God, firmly picturing the Holy Design, and allow his Love and Mercy to wash away the imperfections created by this mortal world.” L’Arachel recited, much more confident now that she actually knew the answer.
The Holy Design? Was that the anatomical Virtruvian-like pictures Mennehl showed her, or did the church use something different? “That’s one way.” Tanya acknowledged, “But my point is that a healing staff heals, at least in part, because it is made of medicine. My thinking was, what if you made a staff out of poison instead? Irritants, toxins, acids. That is the theory that is behind that other staff of mine. It is made not to Heal, but to Harm instead.”
L’Arachel hummed approvingly. “That’s so cool!” She said, “You could kill so many monsters with that…”
Tanya coughed. “Well, actually… I’m not quite sure if it would work on them.” She admitted, “I’d have to test it. It should work at least a little, but I suspect it would be significantly less effective.” She was unclear on how much the monsters obeyed normal biology, but the ones that were basically stereotypical undead would probably be highly resistant, to say the least.
“Oh.” L’Arachel said, disappointed. “We’ll have to try it next time.” She said firmly.
“So you’ll seek to continue to employ my Master as magical support for your patrols?” Tanya asked, “He is quite the busy man, you know.”
“You could come with us without him!” L’Arachel offered.
Urk. “It would be unwise of me to avoid continuing my education under Master Mennehl.” Tanya said nervously.
“When you’re not with him, obviously.” L’Arachel said dismissively. “You told me yourself that you only do apprentice stuff four times a week.”
Ah, trapped. “I suppose it would be similarly unwise to pass up such a lucrative opportunity.” Tanya replied, sinking deeper into the water. “Why…” She moaned to herself, letting the water absorb the sound of her sorrows.
“We’re going to have so much fun!” L’Arachel exclaimed, much happier now that she had gotten her way.
Still, as nice as a warm bath was, they eventually had to leave it, dry off, and change into bedclothes. As before, L’Arachel had a spare silk nightgown that Tanya could wear; it was a little big but apparently the girl extended her preference for shorter skirts to her nightclothes so the only real issue was the collar being a bit loose.
There were two beds, the curtained off one for L’arachel, and a more ordinary one, to Tanya’s modern sensibilities, for Dozla to sleep in. He had his axe ready at his side and had a cotton nightshirt that covered his large frame down to his shins.
Naturally, Tanya was invited to share L’Arachel’s bed, and as the orphanage was sufficiently crowded that Tanya hadn’t slept alone in this life… ever, to her recollection, this was a proposal that was easily accepted. Particularly due to how excited L’Arachel seemed to be of the concept.
It was, however, equally apparent that L’Arachel was not used to sleeping with other people in reach. She did calm down when Tanya decided to start humming a lullaby, one that the nuns liked to use and worked wonders when Tanya had needed to put Recca to bed.
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The storm that Mennehl had been waiting for took its time to arrive, but it eventually did: an hour after sunrise, to be specific. It meant that they were well rested and fed by the time the first peal of thunder resounded among the village.
Tanya had joined L’Arachel’s exercise routine, hauling wood that the girl chopped into pieces with powerful, well practiced strikes. She used an ordinary axe to do so, of course, instead of her enchanted hatchet.
So when the peal of thunder sounded out, Tanya looked in the distance towards where the sound came from, and noticed another lightning bolt. Counting the seconds before that thunder reached them, she estimated that it was three kilometers away. “I should go to the thunder shrine.” Tanya said, placing one last piece of wood on the stump that L’Arachel was using.
“I’ll come with you!” L’Arachel announced.
“Finish and pack up.” Dozla insisted, and with a fiercely determined look, L’Arachel split the piece of wood twice as fast as she usually did, and put the chopped wood with the rest of the cord underneath the awning that would keep the bulk of the rain off of it. The unchopped portions of the tree Dozla cut down, on the other hand, will just be soaked in the rain and dried out later.
Ten minutes after that first sound of thunder, and the group was wearing their waterproof cloaks and walking towards the hill with the “thunder shrine”.
The thunder shrine was basically an overly elaborate lightning rod; it was a hexagonal structure with a steel roof about four meters tall, lines of steel going all around it at the corners driven straight into the ground. The interior of the structure was built with stone, metal rivets holding everything up so that the stone did not touch the ground. It was technically a Faraday cage, but she did not trust those rivets…
Mennehl was there, of course, looking up at the storm clouds. “It’s too far away.” He groused, “It does look like it’s headed this way, though…”
“Master!” Tanya shouted, catching his attention.
“Tanya!” He shouted back. “Thank you, Sir Dozla, for bringing her here. You can return to shelter before the rain picks up.” The air was incredibly humid, but it didn’t seem to be forming actual raindrops yet. Tanya’s basic meteorological knowledge presumed that this was because the barometric pressure was still rather high in this area, so she did her best to measure it by taking even breaths. If the air suddenly became easier to breathe, then the rain would soon arrive.
“Monsters from the Darkling Woods love storms.” Dozla said seriously, “I’ll stand guard.”
“I’m not usually concerned about that, but… thank you anyway. Don’t look at the shrine.” Mennehl said. Wait, was staying on top of a hill next to a lightning rod in a storm… dangerous? Who could have thought?
Still, a nearby lightning rod was not a perfect defense. “Make sure you do not raise your axe above your head.” Tanya commanded sharply, “In fact, stick your axe in the ground until you need it.”
Mennehl and Dozla looked at her strangely. “...Have you been reading my library?” Mennehl asked, his eyes narrowing. “Some of those books are dangerous.”
Shit. “No, Master!” Tanya said, scrambling to find an alternative explanation. “I read ahead in the nature spirit book you had me study, it talked about things you should do to avoid thunder spirit’s wrath!” This was true. However, it recommended not having any metal at all, and said nothing about mitigation strategies if you had to have metal anyway.
Mennehl, fortunately, had apparently not read that particular book in a while, because he nodded slowly. He was probably already fabricating the passages in his mind, blending the memory of reading that book with reading the book that he had suspected Tanya had read without permission. “She’s right, you shouldn’t be holding a big metal axe in a storm if you can help it.”
“L’Arachel, stay at the bottom of the hill.” Dozla instructed, “That side. I will guard the other side.” Naturally, the side he picked was the one leading away from the village, the side that was more likely to actually be attacked. “Don’t look at the shrine.” He added, repeating Mennehl’s warning.
“We’ve still got some time.” Mennehl said once the warriors took their positions. “But…” He put the thunder tome, which had copper plated all around it, into the central chamber of the thunder shrine, opening it to the first page, already scribed out for the spirits, and then started speaking in dragontongue. Tanya could only pick out a few words, unfortunately. “...thunder spirits… call… I’ve come to bargain in accordance with the Sacred Compact…” And that was all she could understand, a third of his words at most.
Whatever he said, it worked; the air pressure suddenly plummeted, and the rain started to fall in great sheets. Interesting… could one use this power to call rain for crops? How close does natural rainfall have to be before it can be forcibly brought?
With the rain having been summoned, Mennehl used his staff to nudge Tanya into place beside him, with a good view of the shrine, then he took a step forward. In dragontongue, he started chanting the thunder spirit beckoning that she did recognize: “Spirits of Thunder! In accordance with the Sacred Compact, I have built for you safe passage back into the embrace of Mother Earth! I ask only for a small tithe of your magnificent power in consideration of this service, and nothing more!” As lightning did not strike the thunder shrine, he took a deep breath and repeated the chant.
This time, it worked: the lightning bolt struck the shrine, and Tanya was immediately deafened by the sound of the impact, and her eyes were blinded by the flash. They returned quickly, though, as the familiar sensations of healing surged through her head. “How did you withstand that?” Tanya shouted, wondering how he could still see.
“Every mage has to experience that at least once, Tanya!” Mennehl replied, opening the door of the thunder shrine and taking out the fully charged Thunder tome. He took out another from under his cloak and put it in the shrine. “Do you want to try it yourself?” He asked.
Tanya looked down at L’Arachel, who was on the ground, clutching her face in pain. “L’Arachel looked at the shrine!” She shouted to be heard over the rain.
Mennehl cursed. “You know the chant!” He said, “It’s just like the fire tome! I’ll probably be back before it works, just start it now.” He started making his way down the stone steps of the hill that held the fire shrine, walking carefully due to the rain.
Well… he was right. Tanya closed the thunder shrine and took a step back, and started to slowly chant. “Spirits of Thunder!” She began, shouting at the top of her lungs. “In accordance with the Sacred Compact, I have built for you safe passage back into the embrace of Mother Earth!” Tanya’s heart skipped a beat as the voice of her anxiety reminded her that she didn’t build the shrine. Mennehl didn’t either, so it was irrelevant and she forged on through. “I ask only for a small tithe of your magnificent power in consideration of this service, and nothing more!”
Once more, lightning struck the thunder shrine, but instead of the earth-shattering sound and all-encompassing light, the world froze. “Being X?” Tanya exclaimed, looking around for the self-proclaimed God while growling.
“I think you may have mistaken me for someone else.” An aristocratic, amused voice replied.
Seated atop the shrine, barely visible through the corona of time stopped lightning, was a man wearing a toga, as she had expected, but he was otherwise completely different: instead of an aged patriarch, he was compact, muscular without bulk, a narrow enough waist that despite his defined abdominals his hip bones were quite easily discerned. He had electric blue hair that went down to his lower back.
…If he was wearing a dress Tanya would absolutely mistake this boy for a girl.
“I apologize.” Tanya said in Dragontongue, before realizing that the presumed thunder spirit was speaking in… Japanese? Switching to that, she repeated herself: “I’m sorry, my Master did not warn me that I would be speaking to the spirit I had entreated.”
“You are forgiven.” The bishounen spirit said imperiously. “We don’t usually make a habit of speaking with the mages who entreat with us, so your master’s lapse in your education is understandable. Besides,” He looked Tanya over. “-you’ve been his student for how long? You’re the youngest apprentice I’ve ever seen, at least.”
“Ah, about two years.” Tanya said, “I started early, but we’ve been focusing more on staff magic. I find medicine a more appealing vocation than war.”
“Lie.” The spirit said chidingly. Tanya cringed in fear. “But it is a lie you tell yourself, so it is forgiven.” Tanya relaxed. This was so stressful… “What is your name?” The spirit asked.
“My name is Tanya, honored spirit.” Tanya said, being extra respectful. Fortunately, Japanese has a great depth of vocabulary for appeasing spirits. She’s not going to repeat her last mistake when confronted with a spirit and make sure they don’t get off on the wrong foot.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tanya.” The spirit said formally. “You may call me Raikyu.” Nine Bolts?
“I am honored by your visit, Lord Raikyu.” Tanya said deferentially, bowing deeply. “May I ask the purpose of this personal visit?”
“Your soul is interesting.” Raikyu said, looking her over some more with his penetrating gaze. He hopped down from the shrine and walked around her, and Tanya “I can’t quite figure out what I’m looking at.”
Tanya gulped. How honest should she be? He has some kind of lie detector, apparently, unless he was bluffing. Which was not impossible, ‘a lie you tell yourself’ is exactly the kind of wishy-washy backpedal that a cold reader would use to make themselves seem more insightful then they are. “I’m afraid I have no experience in assessing souls, Lord Raikyu.” Tanya decided to say, deflecting instead of lying. “I know not what to say to satisfy your curiosity.”
Raikyu frowned, but didn’t immediately call her out on her evasion. “Who is Being X?” He asked.
Ouch. How to phrase this… “Another spirit, who did not share his name. The title I call him by means ‘Unknown Entity’.” Tanya explained, once again framing a true statement in a somewhat deceptive manner. Being X didn’t say a name, just a title. “The only other one I have spoken with in this manner, with time standing still.” She paused, trying to figure out how to say this neutrally without possibly offending this other spirit. “It has been a long time since our last meeting, but appearing to laugh at my impending death would be something I expect from him.” There, nicely neutral. Enough to convey that Being X is no friend, but without yelling from the rooftops that torturing her could allow Raikyu to curry favor from Being X.
The effeminate man chuckled. “He sounds like a real piece of work.” He said, smiling warmly. “Still, you’re a natural at this: giving me just enough info to want more. I suppose I could pay for the full story…” He rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment. “I suppose I don’t really want to know that badly, and we are running out of time.” He pointed at her, and a spark of lightning crossed between them. “We should talk again, when you’re not quite so…” He gestured vaguely at all of her. “-terrified.”
Tanya’s eyes narrowed, but she took a deep breath and calmed down. She was scared of the thunder spirit. He was a representative of a powerful force of nature, and she sought to entreat with him for power. “Perhaps.” She allowed, “In the future.” She clarified, agreeing that they should speak in better circumstances.
“See you later!” Raikyu said, before time returned to its proper flow. Despite this, the sound of thunder seemed distant, and the flash of lightning was only as annoying as turning on her phone in the middle of the night.
Mennehl came back, opening the shrine again and examining the book. “You did it perfectly.” He said, surprised. “On the first try.”
“How many tomes do we seek to enchant?” Tanya shouted in question, the rain still drowning out most sounds.
“Five.” Mennehl replied, replacing the book with a third. “Go back down to L’Arachel, I think you’ve had enough for today. Keep her company.” He ordered firmly.
“Understood, Master!” Tanya shouted, saluting.
Comments
Eric Hicks
A pleasure to find a new chapter of yours as always, I enjoyed the read.
