Millennial Mage-Chapter 533: Disaster

Tala seized Rane’s aura—her husband's aura—and knew it to be her own.

With that knowledge, she flickered into the space beside him, Flow already out in void-sword form.

Meallain’s eyes widened, but everything had happened too fast—and in too close a space—for her to react even with her aura, which was concentrated around her protian weapon for what she’d hoped would be a killing strike.

Tala took the woman’s arm at the shoulder, severing more than just the physical connections between limb and torso. She cut the very reality node that was the basis for Meallain’s makeup, instantly making the arm and held weapon distinct from the woman they had previously been united to.

Knowing the versatility of protian weaponry—as well as the skill of the one before her—Tala didn’t want the separated weapon to come back and form a new arm for the elfin Eskau. She simply didn’t trust that severing the reality nodes would be enough.

That in mind, Tala slashed at the still falling arm, purposely feeding extra void-magic into Flow, causing it to practically slurp up the protian weapon—along with the elf arm—allowing the soul trapped within to move on, just as Flow’s void-magic had allowed for Io’s core so long ago. Just as it had for the other souls she’d sent on in the years since.

Meallain had sprung backward at Tala’s appearance, and only after her arm and secondary weapon were gone did her feet touch the ground once more.

Tala’s burgeoning soulsight perceived something trembling in the space that the protian weapon no longer occupied. More than anything, it felt like a child who had just dropped his treat in the dirt, deciding whether or not to throw a fit.

On the physical side, Tala’s initial stroke had inadvertently mirrored Meallain’s strike on Rane just moments earlier. Though the elf had explicitly not been given time to recover her weapon as Rane had.

Terry charged forward, forgoing his flickering to slash at Meallain, but the elf instinctively avoided the attack. Trilling in irritation, Terry did flicker then, reappearing on Tala’s shoulder.

Tala acknowledged Terry but didn’t take her eyes off of the other woman, a fierce rage burning within her, fighting back her trepidation, fear, and no small amount of hesitation based upon well-earned respect. “You will not take my husband from me.”

Tala’s very soul vibrated with how close that had come to disaster, the whole world around her trembling under the weight of her authority and the strength of her emotional response to what almost happened.

Everything told her that Rane should have died then and there, but she had been able to avert disaster.

Somehow, she’d been able to think clearly enough to find a way to interfere, and he was alive.

Blessedly alive.

Meallain still hadn’t moved from where she’d landed after the initial jump back. Even Terry’s attack had only forced her to shift slightly.

In the instant of stillness that had fallen, Tala took a moment to aspect-mirror her healing onto Rane—not needing to touch him, as he was already well within her authority—using her threefold sight and intimate knowledge of physiology and the healing arts to target only the worst damage.

Her type of healing was murder on the physicality of the unprepared, and so she couldn’t do anything as extreme as regrowing Rane’s arm at the moment. It would be the ultimate irony if she saved him only to cause his death by over-healing what his body could bear.

Regardless, they could have a face-stuffing session in which she should be able to augment his digestive system and healing at the same time.

…It was going to take a lot of eating if they went that route.

-First, Mistress Vanga is almost here, and she’ll take care of him in no time. Second, you are distracting yourself from what is literally right in front of you.- ṜÁ𐌽𝘖𐌱Еṩ

…Fine.

Meallain still hadn’t moved, though the blood had drained from her face. At that moment, however, the child-like tendril of soul-connection finally reacted, snapping back toward the elf with terrifying, non-physical force.

As it impacted, Meallain’s body didn’t react, initially, but her soul frayed and the woman screamed.

As she briefly considered it, Tala had actually heard a large number of screams in her life. She’d heard the screams of animals or monsters dying, of people losing limbs—That happens far more than it really should, now that I think about it.—screams of loss and screams of rage.

No scream she’d ever heard compared to this one in its raw, soul-searing agony.

Meallain collapsed to the ground, violently twitching and shuddering.

To Tala’s soulsight, the woman was a boiling cauldron, and only time would tell what the final concoction would be. Even whether or not it would be anything but a burnt, ruined mess was impossible to tell at that moment.

-And… they’re here!-

The flying construct that Tala herself had helped build zipped up from between nearby hills, having kept low to stay out of sight.

Tala moved her focus outward, and only then did the changes really register, mainly the changes in occupancy.

From every direction, as far as she could sense, magical signatures were closing in on them. It was not small groups, or lone sources either. It was an almost solid mass, contracting inward on their position.

The number and power far overmatched those that Tala had ever seen, and her and Rane’s Defender unit had arrived just in time to meet the tide and hopefully not their deaths.

-Well, you have about ten minutes if we’re being honest.-

…Fair.

Master Girt, Master Limmestare, and Master Clevnis jumped free and landed beside Rane and Tala even before the flying construct could land behind them.

Master Clevnis’ voice snapped out. “Mistress Tala, what is the situation? Is that elf still hostile?”

Tala pulled her focus back, regarding the woman writhing on the ground. “I… I don’t know.”

Master Girt grunted. “Well, let’s all get into that amazing space you have, and let her deal with this mess that’s incoming.”

Mistress Vanga rushed off the now landed vehicle, going straight to Rane and beginning to work her magics. The process was well-known to Tala, the limb regrowing one segment at a time, bones first, then the accompanying tissue from the inside out.

Mistress Cerna strode forward, off the platform, followed by a few people Tala didn’t know, all of whom had auras in the Paragon range. “We can’t do that, unfortunately. Even if she fought like a two or three of her rank, continuing unto death, the majority of these creatures would still live. At that point, they would be free to turn their attention to the closest source of disruption. Either that would be us—for those creatures capable of assaulting dimensional spaces—or it would be Alefast, waning.”

Mistress Cerna’s proclamation caused a wave of grimaces to pass over all those present, save Meallain, whose face was only now shifting away from the rictus of agony.

The elf did finally seem to be pulling herself back together. Her soul seemed unshattered, but something about it was raw.

Meallain forced herself to her feet, ignoring the others around them and focusing on Tala, directly. “No… you’re an illusion… Right? You have to be? How were the details pulled from my mind so perfectly?” She frowned, her centuries of experience clearly allowing her to operate despite the still obvious, soul-deep pain. “Why make a perfect illusion, then cover it in obscuring armor?”

The elf seemed as utterly uncaring of her missing arm—the wound having sealed almost immediately—as she was of the Defenders now arrayed beside Tala, Rane, and Terry.

The healing seemed to have been accomplished as her other healing had, the only evidence having come in the form of a small pulse of power that Tala couldn’t quite track.

They all stood in tense silence, two each missing an arm—though Mistress Vanga was well on the way to correcting that for Rane—and a third struggling to keep herself from trembling.

Tala’s unit was close at hand, but the Paragons who had come with them were spreading out, keeping a wary eye on Meallain while seemingly more focused on assessing what was coming.

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After what seemed like an eternity, Meallain spoke again, this time in a small voice, barely audible even to Tala’s enhanced senses. “Tali? …Tala? Is… Is that really you?”

Tala had no idea how to respond, but she knew—deep down in her soul—that trying to lie or dissemble would harm herself as well as being rather useless in that moment. So, she willed her faceplate away. “Yes, Eskau Meallain. I am Tala. It has been… a long time.”

Meallain took an involuntary step back, her one hand coming to her face. “You’re alive? How…?” She shook her head. “No, that can come later. It must be a tale for the ages.” She barked a laugh. “You’re alive!” Her eyes flicked to Rane, her mind seemingly finally processing what Tala had said. “And you’re married?”

Tala gave the barest of nods.

The elf grunted. “Well, he fights well enough. I’m sorry about the arm, but he wouldn’t let me see you.” Her eyes hardened. “You shouldn’t keep people from those they should see.”

Tala felt her anger rise up again, overcoming her trepidation and hesitation momentarily. “Yes, it would be awful if he had snatched me from my home and taken me hundreds of miles away to be isolated from all that I knew and loved.”

Meallain flinched back, but clearly felt like she needed to defend herself. “I didn’t know that you knew. I thought you were who little Be made you into—foolish and wrong though that was—and sending you back would have been exactly what you’re referring to. I see I was wrong. I didn’t understand the truth of the situation, and you either knew, or you know now…”

Her whole posture slumped, and her shoulders began to shake. Is she crying?

-It looks like it?-

Really?

Meallain wiped some tears from her face with her remaining hand. “I know you killed him… I know it now at least. I suspected it before. I… I want to hate you for doing it, but I can’t. I think that even if I had known then, I wouldn’t have blamed you. I thought we were making the best of his horrible choice, but we were just helping him keep you. I… I don’t know how I could have done it differently, but I wish I had.”

Rane spoke very softly, his voice strained with the remnants of pain. “Did she just completely snap? She seemed… unbalanced before, but this?”

Mistress Vanga tsked, shifting Rane slightly as she continued to work.

Terry let out a long, low trill.

Tala, for her part, gave a minute shrug, not letting her guard down. The elf’s soul was twisting and warping, still struggling under the damage that losing one of her protian weapons had caused.

Meallain laughed again, more self-deprecating this time. “You’re alive and well and have been this whole time. Meanwhile, I’ve been on the warpath to learn about who you were…” Her eyes widened in dawning horror, and she looked around them once again. “Oh… You’re alive… and here… What have I done?”

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As the elf looked around them, taking in the repercussions for her own flagrant, insane magical resonance that were about to come crashing down on all of them, she let out a softer cackling laugh. “I finally find a lead—I find you seemingly alive and well—and I bring down a calamity upon you that a City Lord would be hard pressed to handle cleanly.”

Tala growled, her deep-seated fear and anger combining to momentarily override her formerly, generally good opinion of the woman. “You and yours are good at that.”

Meallain’s head rocked back at the statement, but she didn’t argue.

One of the Paragons stepped forward, away from the others who were continuing their analysis and speaking quietly to each other. “I lack context for this conversation, but we need to deal with what is coming.” He locked gazes with Meallain. “Will you be a help or a liability in the coming clash?”

Meallain turned to Tala, “Will you talk with me after the fact without being forced to?”

Tala grimaced, and Rane touched her arm to get her attention for a suggestion. “In the hold?”

She hesitated an instant longer, then nodded. “I will, in my hold. Do you agree to that?”

Meallain nodded once, not seeing it for the concession it truly was. “I agree. With that settled, I will help with this disaster that I have instigated.”

The elf then paused, and Tala watched a disruptive ripple move through Meallain’s soul. The woman staggered slightly.

“Though, with one of my weapons taken,” There was heat in the woman’s voice. “I won’t be very useful for a while. My magic… my power is in turmoil.”

The Paragon who had been interacting with them gave her a searching look, then flinched back, clearly seeing something more concrete than Tala could, yet. “Any assistance would be appreciated, then.”

The man’s demeanor had radically changed. There was no longer any trepidation in his stance, and if anything, he seemed as if he no longer saw her as a threat in the least.

Tala heard him muttering under his breath, “In that state, even a new Refined might be able to take her.”

As if his quiet words had been the catalyst, Tala felt Meallain’s unshakable aura and authority over the area crack and begin to wash away, like sandstone before a raging flood.

The man shook his head. “She won’t be a true threat for days, if not weeks. That sadly means she won’t be too much help either.” He then glanced toward where Tala, Rane, and their unit waited. “Whatever you did to her, good job. You’ve effectively disabled her in the near-term. Who should I coordinate with for the defense, here? We’ll deploy our redoubts but that will only blunt the weaker of the incoming wave. If we hope to safeguard the city so near at hand, we need to work together.”

I suppose a couple of hundred miles is relatively near at hand? Tala pointed to Master Clevnis. “I’ll follow his lead.”

Master Clevnis snorted a laugh. “And I’ll send her and her husband to clash with the largest threats.”

Tala narrowed her eyes at the man, and he blanched.

“Assuming Mistress Vanga gives Master Rane a clean bill of health!” He held up his hands.

Mistress Vanga nodded. “I want him to fight beside others, but he should be good for this engagement.”

Master Girt stepped forward. “I’ll keep him safe.” He locked gazes with Tala. “You have my word.”

Tala gave him a single nod before turning to the Paragon who seemed to be in command. “I have shock troops available, those with only physical enhancements. They won’t be able to stay in combat long, but they can be used to shore up weaknesses.”

He frowned but didn’t argue. “Alright. How can I affect the disposition of those forces?”

“Do you have an Archive linked communication device of any kind?”

“Like a slate?” He frowned.

“That will work, yeah.”

He nodded, pulling one out.

“One moment.”

-I have his magical signature and… there.-

The man cocked an eyebrow. “A day of firsts it seems. I will try to use them wisely. I appreciate the summary of their capacities and limitations… and of yours.” He glanced at Master Clevnis. “It seems she has abilities beyond what you were aware.”

The Refined shrugged. “She has advanced since I saw her last.”

The Paragon nodded. “Very well.”

He then began issuing commands, and to Tala’s astonishment, battlements began appearing from unmoored dimensional portals.

Of course, they have defensive structures in their soulbound storages. That’s what he meant.

Tala regretted that hers weren’t done, but she’d purposely said there was no rush so that the end product could be better and less expensive.

Good, cheap, and quick, you can only pick two.

-And we picked good and cheap… relatively.-

Yeah, we definitely biased toward the good…

It looked like there were four different sets of walls that only mostly connected with one another.

-May I have the authority to move Talons in and out of Ironhold?-

Of course.

Nothing really changed with the utterance, but Tala could somehow feel that Kit was more receptive to Alat’s distinct will than she had been before. -I am coordinating with Lyn and Ron now. Everyone is fully healing, and those who were wounded are stuffing their faces to recover their spent reserves. Even so, everyone is ready for deployment at need.-

Handle that with him… whatever his name is.

-Master Meridius.-

Coordinate with Master Meridius. I don’t need to know the details, and I want to focus on my surroundings, not the whole battlefield. I won’t use Kit without talking with you, first.

-I appreciate the consideration, but I’ll monitor you and your usages. Plus, I don’t see any need for portals into the sanctum on my end. You need to be free with your dissolution breath at need… or more likely at directive.-

Tala grinned at that. Right. This would be a good time for that. Choose my best vector of attack.

-Good thought, the front of the wave will be here in less than a minute. I’ll coordinate.-

Tala pulled herself from her thoughts and found that she’d walked with her husband. At that moment, she was standing beside Rane on top of a red stone battlement.

He glanced her way. “Welcome back. Alat had a lot to say?”

“Apparently.”

Meallain was standing on her other side, still missing an arm. Thinking back on it, Tala could remember hearing the woman refuse healing, something about not wanting to accept a lesser replacement, whatever that meant.

Tala looked out and saw thousands of shapes nearly upon them. Alat’s timeline seemed to have been for engagement range not touch distance, thankfully. So there was still a few seconds before magics would begin to fly.

Her own dissolution breath wouldn’t be most effective until the bulk of incoming threats came much closer.

There were predators of every description and element all intermixed and swarming. One of the oddest parts was how none of them did any harm to those who would otherwise have been competitors and rivals.

In that moment, they were all Reality’s tools.

“Where did they all come from?”

Meallain huffed. “Your kind have neglected your education. Reality pulls their… centers from the Doman-Imithe at need, wrapping them in a cloak of power. These will not survive a week before Reality itself destroys them, but that is sufficient to cause chaos.”

“And why don’t we humans or you arcanes side do fly-bys and unleash this on the other?” Even their ballista-travel is so heavily mitigated that even using it as a gated didn’t cause too much of an issue…

Tala and Alat shared an internal stare and unified blink of realization. -We need to get a copy of those magics.-

Yeah… seriously… They’re rather protective of them, but yeah.

The elf shrugged, ignoring the pejorative and completely unaware of Tala’s internal dialogue. “Ancient treaties? The ire of Sovereigns?” She huffed a laugh. “I… I am not in my right mind it seems. I have no doubt that someone will come for me because of this. If these creatures do any real damage, there will be devastation wrought among the Major Houses in recompense in order to prevent this from being done again, or in retaliation.”

Tala shook her head, feeling a small smile tug at her lips. “No one likes Zeme being harmed.”

Meallain nodded. “No one likes Zeme being harmed.”

“Well… Let’s clean up this mess. Then,” Tala grimaced, finally coming to terms with one thing. “After, we’ll talk.”