The tension is becoming unbearable. We’re waiting on the grounds of Tiria’s tower, inside the wards so we’re not visible from outside.Tiria has promised that we could be sitting here in plain view, and yet the person won’t be able to see us. Of course, I’m also prepared for it to be a trap of some sort – we’re not only relying on her wards.
She seemed rather relieved that when I talked about staying at her tower, I didn’t necessarily mean staying inside it. To be fair, unless we went down to the basement, there wouldn’t really be the space for everyone to be comfortable. Even the ground floor room is only the size of my sitting room back on Earth.
The basement is significantly bigger, a large workroom that extends far more out to the sides than the tower itself. Like the basement in which I found my companions when they were being held by Dexil and his gang, magic must have been used in the construction of this place. It just wouldn’t work according to normal architecture – the weight of the tower itself would have destroyed the basement.
Unfortunately, it has other reminders of that particular basement – cages line the walls and dangle from the ceiling, and there’s an aura of misery and distress. Fortunately, only two of the cages were filled, one with a Tier one helven, the other with a Tier two mila.
After checking that the two of them were uninjured, I convinced Tiria to set them free outside the wards. She responded to the reasoning that if she is coming on the expedition with us, she won’t be able to continue her experiments here. I suspect that was because she took my words as a good sign that her ‘trial period’ is over.
Of course, it’s not, but if she does prove to be trustworthy, I would be foolish to turn her away. While her laser-like focus on her research makes her rather scatter-brained and inconsiderate of anyone else, she’s proven herself to have an excellent grasp on theoretical magic and at least some combat ability.
The freeing of her prisoners – test subjects – reduced some of the aura of misery in her basement, but it still didn’t make my companions desire to wait down there, even if it’s a bit cold. Dusk fell half an hour ago and as the sun sank in the almost cloudless sky, so did the temperature. Not that it affects me – fire affinity means I barely even feel the chill. But my scaled Bonded are definitely a little uncomfortable.
I feel movement in the shadows, Lathani hisses in our Bond network, her tone excited.
A human is there, Kalanthia agrees, sending us all a vague indication of where she feels the disturbance on the earth. We all train our eyes in the direction – I engage Darkvision and an outline comes into view, cloaked just as Tiria indicated they would be.
“Incoming,” I murmur for those not part of our Bond network. I feel more than see the tension increase among Dragon team and Tiria. We’ve discussed various approaches – we’ll see how the figure responds and then adapt from there.
I wish that the five humans could be part of our network too, but Nicholas advised being wary about using any type of Bond on another noble. I’m erring on the side of caution and choosing not to Bond with even Dragon team because of Tiria’s presence.
The cloaked figure comes closer. I begrudgingly give Tiria a bit of credit – I can’t tell any more about the figure than she described earlier. I actually wonder whether there’s a sort of concealment on the cloak that makes it impossible to tell whether they are man or woman. Without Kalanthia’s confirmation, I couldn’t even be sure they’re human.
When I send out a subtle Inspect and it comes back indicating that the person isn’t even there, I become even more convinced that there’s magic in play.
The cloaked figure is passing by the tower. It’s time.
Concerned that sound may not be concealed as well as appearance is, I use a hand gesture to start things.
I feel a buzz as the wards drop. Unfortunately, the wards on this place aren’t the kind that allow us to attack from safety.
The figure reacts more quickly than I was expecting, but they’re still not fast enough to avoid the lightning net that settles around their shoulders or the thorny vines that creep around their body – Sorya and my new owlbear companion, Artio, are working together to form them.
The figure struggles silently for a moment and then stills as the thorny vines tighten further.
I stand up straight and stride towards the figure.
“Identify yourself!” I order. The figure stays silent. “I am Lord Markus Titanbend, and I order you to identify yourself and explain your business here or be arrested and taken in for questioning."
It’s always possible that this person has nothing to do with the rift, even if it’s not probable.
The figure remains silent, not indicating any pain despite the current that runs through the capture net Tiria is using, or the thorns that dig into their body from the brambles.
Instead, I trigger my tattoo shield instinctively as I feel magic spike in the target.
Just in time – water and pieces of bramble splatter against the surface. I drop the shield, only to see the previously caught figure running for the concealed area ahead. They’ve even managed to shrug off the net from Tiria somehow.
“Get them!” I shout, starting to run. Kalanthia, Altio, try to get something in their path! We can’t let them escape into the concealed area!
The nunda and owlbear send me grim acknowledgement and both surge forwards, their magic extending far beyond their bodies.
I do the same, pressing magic into the earth. I can’t do the same wonders as Kalanthia can – I have neither her deft paw nor her mana pool – but I can raise stumbling blocks in the figure’s path and create tenuous footing with irregular ground or earth that abruptly gives way when they stand on it.
It’s enough. By the time the figure steps on the path where many have gone before them, there’s a wall of earth and brambles blocking their path. The figure stops and I see their hands clench into fists.
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Then they turn and finally speak.
“You couldn’t just keep your nose out of other people's business, could you?” the figure asks with irritation. I don’t recognise the voice, nor does it seem particularly masculine or feminine. I briefly wonder if it’s the assassin again…but no. Something tells me that this is someone completely different. It must be enchantments that make identification so difficult.
“A beast wave attacking Zlona is very much my business,” I counter. The figure jerks and I tense, but they were only showing their own disagreement.
“An alien summoned from another world? Hardly. This affair began long before you were drawn here and does not concern you in the slightest.”
My eyes narrow.
“Really. It certainly doesn’t seem that way when you kidnapped my companions and had them imprisoned and tortured in order to blackmail me. Please explain how that doesn’t concern me…Lord Torrent.”
Several gasps meet my ears as my companions react to my accusation. It’s a guess, but an informed one. I might not be able to identify the speaker, but that condescending tone of voice? Those vaguely threatening words? They’re far too reminiscent of the last conversation we had. And then there’s his identification of me as an ‘alien’.
The figure freezes but doesn’t answer. Instead, in one move, he pulls out a truly massive container from his Inventory. It must have some sort of lightening enchantment on it as he handles something the size of a small swimming pool with a single hand and no apparent strain.
A moment later, the container has disappeared leaving its contents behind – a swimming-pool’s worth of water hanging above the figure’s head. Apprehension coils in my belly. Control over that much water? Further proof this is Torrent or one of his family.
“Arrow Rain!” the lord cries, levelling his hand dramatically at us.
“Damn!” I swear as I pull up my shield to protect against the water projectiles suddenly shooting at us.
Most of my Bonded do the same, but cries and hisses of pain ring out as those who weren’t quite fast enough to avoid the arrow-like rain are pierced. My stomach clenches and I can’t resist flicking a glance backwards just to check they’re weathering it well enough.
“Quicksilt!” Torrent’s voice barely makes it through the battering of the rain on my shield and its whine as it struggles to hold the forceful projectiles back.
The moment the rain lets up, I release my tattoo shield – almost out of charge already – and run forwards, summoning fire to envelope me like a cloak. I only make it two steps before the mud begins to cling to me, slowing me. Within two more steps, I’m in up to my knees.
I look down incredulously – the forest floor that had previously been perfectly solid and mostly dry is now a quagmire. Glancing backwards, I see that everyone is in the same situation – only Sirocco has escaped. Even Noir is grounded.
The sound of roaring and flashes of moonlight bring my attention back to Torrent. Wielding two large rotating sawblades of water, he is attacking the wall that stands between him and the concealment field. Kalanthia’s earth is standing firm, but the brambles are quickly giving way.
Noticing that, the nunda expands her panels of earth and traps him entirely. For a long moment, nothing happens. I continue slogging through the mire but hope rises in me. Water is notoriously weak against earth – maybe we’ve managed to trap him?
A moment later, that hope is dashed on the jagged rocks that come flying towards my head as Torrent somehow causes the walls around him to explode. I duck, and by the time I’m looking up, the lord is stepping through the remains of the wall.
I throw a fireball at Torrent, my instinctive reaction to seeing him getting away, but a swirling wave of water rises up and deflects the fireball with nonchalant ease.
Torrent then pulls something out of his Inventory or a pocket and breaks it. Abruptly, I find myself frozen from my neck down. I can still breathe, but my magic freezes in my veins and my muscles will not respond to my urging. From the distress that ripples out from my companions, I’m not the only one affected. Torrent has got us pinned.
“You’re just going to run away, are you? Coward!” I shout at the lord as he steps towards the rift, nonchalance returning to his posture. I fight against the constricting magic, its bindings giving just a little more every time I press against them.
He pauses and half-turns back. Even with the concealing cloak, I can sense the malice he directs at me.
“Are you not eager to find out what lies behind this concealment? I thought you’d like to satisfy your curiosity.”
And a moment later, the concealment field drops. Little changes about the trees, but suddenly I can see a red-hued split in space that can only be a rift. It’s like a tear in the fabric of the world, a ragged slice into the very entrails of the universe that gapes open and allows a view into another world. It feels instinctually wrong.
My stomach rises and I force my eyes away from that awful sight to see something that’s almost as horrifying, though in a different way.
The rift isn’t alone in space. As I sensed, eleven beasts stand before it, but they’re only the tip of the iceberg – far more stand on the other side.
They’re large rat-like beings: long bodies with even longer whip-like tails and rows of shark-like teeth. They’re sitting on their back paws, the sharp talons on the end of their curled-down front digits gleaming in the unnatural light on their side of the rift.
All of those on this side of the rift are Tier twos. The smallest is the size of a labrador; the biggest, the size of a pony. And though my Inspect rebounds off the rift without giving me any information about those waiting on the other side, I’m almost certain that two of them have to be Tier threes. Though their sizes are quite different – one is twice the size of the other – the intelligence in their eyes is evident. They’re called ithans, apparently, and their description perfectly matches the main type of beast assaulting Zlona. There can be no doubt that this is all tied up with the beast wave. That Torrent is responsible for it all.
Torrent strides over to the rift, passing through the mass of guard beasts without fear.
The cloaked figure pulls out something that glints with metal and crystals and presses it to something in space that flexes, sending nausea through my stomach.
A moment later, the beasts on the other side of the rift boil forwards, pressing through the rift membrane, the almost-translucent fabric of reality flexing sickeningly over their bodies – though that might also be my rising apprehension about this fight. We haven’t even managed to capture Torrent alone – how are we going to deal with all these beasts too?
The number of beasts outside the rift doubles, then triples. Last of all, the two Tier threes step through. Now on this side of the rift, I can confirm their strength.
I can’t see Torrent’s expression, but I get the impression that he’s grinning with malicious satisfaction at us.
“I would wish you luck but…well, you know how it is.”
With that parting thrust, he pulls out something like a carpet that floats in midair. It can only be his escape route.
I should be relieved that he’s not planning on fighting, but instead fire burns within me at the thought of him getting away with this. My emotions lend me the strength to break through the last of the bindings and I reach forward with the earth.
I sense Kalanthia’s presence there too and both of us move together of one accord. Earth sweeps up on either side of Torrent, our mana pouring out to hasten the speed of its movement. A rock fist reaches up to crush the carpet and to grip Torrent all in one motion. The metal and crystal device he had been holding drops to the ground in fragments.
But, as water twists around Torrent, finding every crack in the rock to wear away at his imprisonment, and the ithans boil forwards, I know the battle has only begun.
Nicholas! We need you!
here!
here!
here!
here!
here

