The Horns

The next morning, after a breakfast of mystery porridge and ale, we began the next leg of our journey. The sun had barely begun to rise on the horizon as we stepped out into the dry, morning air. The quiet streets were all but empty, with little disturbing the peaceful stroll aside from the few horse-drawn carts making early morning deliveries and the occasional guard that casually walked their beat. Nearing the middle of town, I slowed my pace to eye an oddity that I had hoped to see at least once before the war. 

"Hey, one second," I announced to my companions as I directed our group closer to the single-story structure I had spotted. "I want to see this."

Approaching the feat of arcano-engineering, a shrill whistle blew, and I marvelled at the Shimmer Train that began to pull out of the station. Having written the vehicle to resemble early locomotives, I couldn't help but feel giddy with excitement upon seeing it. I had always loved trains growing up, and to see a fantasy one I had designed firsthand filled me with joy.

I had decided to keep steam engines out of the mix when designing this vehicle since most nations in this world had yet to hit their industrial revolution. That being said, as a replacement, Anak'hati Magilancers had removed the clunkier mechanical parts of the train with a special type of ley stone known as shimmer crystals. These magical gems powered the locomotion, levitated the cars, and gave the trains their shimmering underglow as they propelled forward across the unforgiving landscape. All it took was a triop of casters maintaining a constant flow of magic to the crystal, and the vehicle could move faster than any other form of transportation available across all Esseria.

With a smile crossing my face, I turned to examine the joy on my companions. But, this was once again something I was marvelling over alone while my fellow triop remained uninterested. What they had found more intriguing were the posters announcing a Winter Solstice Concert in the City of Anak’Hati. The headliner was a very familiar character, DJ Demilich, with Lich House’s very own rising stars, Power Word Thrill, opening the show. What they couldn’t have known was that the second band was being managed by Giovanni Galilei and assisted by Maren and Lemon, who were using the experience as credit for their Solstice Quest.

This magical energy pooled during the concert would be used to establish the Anak’hati portal to Dwindlefyre and, unknown to everyone involved, consequently trigger a landslide of geopolitical issues. A single night would trigger the tumbling of dominoes, leading to the next great war and the destruction of Sutin'eli.

“Oooh, can we go if we finish the dungeon quickly?” Aesandoral begged her triop. “Both Squalls Crossing and Anak’hati are ends of the line, so we could get a direct train and be there in two days!”

“No!” I snapped before anyone could add more.

My sudden, curt response on the subject immediately drew their attention. I felt the piercing stares of three women who would have loved to attend a concert become suddenly laser-focused on me. Clearing my throat and taking a breath, I tried to calm myself down

“J-just—sorry, trust me. We don’t want to be there.”

“But whyyy?” Aesandoral pleaded as she approached me. "I want to gooo—"

I looked around cautiously, easily noticing the various Anak guards that strolled with hands hovering over the magical weapons meant to enhance their spells. They eyed the area suspiciously as they patrolled around the building and trains, which I knew to be considered inviolable territories ruled by Anak'hati, even though it was deep within Ter’aquit borders

“Let’s start our walk,” I nodded away from the station. “And I can explain.”

Moving away, we continued our march out of the town. As we did, I looked over my shoulder constantly, watching the Anak guards that followed us for a short while before turning down a side street and disappearing. It was only after making enough distance to feel confident we weren’t being tailed that I tapped my temple and whispered into the minds of my companions.

“I’m sorry," I apologized to them, also saddened by the fact that I wouldn't be able to attend the show of the century. "The concert is going to be an absolute rager, but it’s also going to trigger a riot. Shatter is going to use the opportunity to make their move, bombing several of the policing stations across the fascist capital. There’re going to be a lot of arrests, and I don't want that for us.”

“We should do something to stop it,” Rionriv whispered back. "Like, warn someone or something."

“We can’t. I may not be a true oracle, but I do know every significant upcoming event. We can’t alter the foretold outcomes. If we do, we jeopardize the peaceful future that comes after.”

“And you know this because—Kalish things?”

“Essentially. Sorry, but we have to keep our distance from Power Word Thrill and DJ Demilich for the time being.”

“And DJ Demilich!” Aesandoral cried out, her voice echoing through the early morning streets, drawing the attention of a few passersby.

“Shhh!” Everyone quieted her.

“Sorry,” She whispered. “Why not DJ? Is she a terrorist, too?”

“The Shatter group aren’t terrorists.” I insisted quietly into their minds. “Don’t believe the false geopolitical narratives being taught in the Al'magi curriculum. They’re a freedom-fighting regiment left over from the Two-Generation War. They’re looking to free the mages of Moal’aw from the mandatory conscription and governmental tracking of Al’magi graduates.”

"They track magical students,"  Sharzin now asked."Why?"

Shit, I thought, having revealed too much. Conscription was a well-known thing that the Moal'aw governments openly did, but the tracking was different. How much do I want to say? I can't tell them that Anak'hati put it into place, so when the war starts, they can easily target any magic caster of threat and exterminate them.

"Can't be surprised when you know everything," I responded as softly as I was cryptic. "That's why Shatter aren't as bad as everyone makes them out to be. They actually want to help people."

"Terrorists?" Rionriv whispered

"They're not—" I shouted before calming myself back down to a whisper. "They're not terrorists."

After this, we had a long conversation about Shatter, which lagged on well after leaving Squalls Crossing and venturing along the foothills leading to Talir’sahn. I took the opportunity to clear up some of the Anak disinformation that had been successfully spread for the last two decades concerning the group. It was easy to tell that I was introducing new lore to the triop and they appeared to be eating it up.

Since none of the three were originally from Moal’aw and were only present for school, their knowledge of the subject was limited to what they had heard from history courses and around campus. The claims they had come to believe, like how Shatter ‘targeted helpless mundanes’ or ‘sacrificed underaged mages to fuel dangerous magic’, were complete fabrications raised by the nations Shatter sought to tear down. I explained that their faction had arisen as a direct result of both an ancient prophecy and Anak’hati’s aggressive nationalist agenda. 

"Eventually," I came to a comfortable conclusion. "Once the next great war begins, Shatter will go on to form their own nation, becoming a major player for freedom and justice across Esseria."

Which was exactly why I wanted to befriend them as early on as possible. I added in my head.

"Okay, so," Rionriv asked, once again taking on the role of devil's advocate. "Why does Shatter use their bottle bombs and blow up entire public squares. How is that a just and lawful decision? Doesn't it affect those free people, too? Can't they—"

"Shh," Aesandoral suddenly cut off both her question and my answer. "Quiet. Movement ahead."

I watched as she crouched low to the ground, nocking an arrow as her ears twitched. Immediately following her lead, I got myself low and began scanning the area. We had wandered far enough from the town and farm lands to find ourselves at the foothills at the very base of the ridge we marched towards. Around us, the dried grasslands had transitioned into brush that had become thick and tough to see through, making it the perfect place for an ambush by predators and bandits alike.

“I thought I heard something,” The archer whispered aloud. “Towards the ridge. And it’s fast.”

“Okay, heads on a swivel, everyone,” I replied, slowly stepping in the direction Aesandoral had motioned to act as a shield. "This S-O-B could come out from anywhere."

“You’re so weird,” Rionriv whispered back, her attention turning away from the shrubs for a second to address me. "You say strange—"

“Ri!” I shouted, still a few feet from her, when it happened.

The attack happened so fast, I barely saw the beast as it charged through the brush at our side, instead of the direction Aesandoral had thought. I rushed, stretching an arm out to touch her before the creature did, with my hand reaching Rionriv moments before the hulking figure did. I flexed my fingers, channelling enough magic to give her a forceful shove and watching as she tumbled out of the way.

With half a second to react, I pivoted, narrowly dodging back the way I came and away from the beast's thick head and protruding horns. Unfortunately, what I didn’t escape was the force of being body-checked by two thousand pounds of bull. The hooves of the beast trampled over my body, fracturing my leg in an instant, breaking several ribs, and most certainly causing internal bleeding.

“Iz—Ri!” The others collectively yelped as arrows began to release.

From my crumpled position on the ground, I weakly placed a hand on my chest and released a burst of healing energy. The bones began shifting around within my body as they fit back into place like a horrific jigsaw puzzle. Feeling everything as it popped back into sockets and fractures snapped into place, I cried out in pain, coughing up blood as my body healed. But I wouldn't have time to suffer. After all, I was raised to take a hit and keep going. I was Captain Meat Shield. And my team needed me.

It's not tuberculosis. I reassured myself. Just an internal injury. It's fine.

I stumbled to my feet and centred myself with a deep breath. Gripping the quarterstaff I had been using as a walking stick, I charged forward with a bellowing roar. With a locked gaze on the sickly-looking bull, which I now noticed had a thick black and purple hide, I readied a swing. But, before I could land a blow, an arrow covered in green energy sailed close enough to nick my ear. As it struck the foe, the overgrown thicket nearest the beast came to life, binding the bull into place as I prepared to finish my charge.

“Thanks, Aes!” I yelled out as I leapt forward with a heavy swing of my staff.

One—Two— I thought as three heavy blows landed across the creature’s skull as it staggered from the impact. Three!

“Now die!”

The beast attempted to pull from the vines, but the thick thorns tightened their grip. More arrows arrived, courtesy of Sharzin and Aesandoral, before my own heavy swings ended the conflict. With a putrid squelch, the beast collapsed under its corrupted flesh, and I watched in horror as bloody tears rolled from its eyes before its body fell limp.

“Great job, everyone,” I said, observing as the horrid body began to liquify. “Aes, Zin, outstanding. Ri you—”

Turning to face the inactive sorceress, my heart began to race as terror set in. Rionriv was lying unconscious on the ground in a pool of blood, a sight that caused the mental dam to flex and threaten to break. It was a sight that, for some reason, tore into my very essence more than any before it. I could feel my mind beginning to slip as anxiety took over, and a panic attack settled into my consciousness. That was before Aesandoral noticed the carnage and screamed, luckily, drawing me back from the edge. 

“Ri!” I cried out, racing over to her and looking at the wound. “Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die!”

I-I thought I had saved her. I attempted to rationalize. But judging by the splatter, the creature’s horn had caught her in the gut and thrown her an additional thirty feet. Damn it, why didn't I just push a little harder? Why couldn't I have done a little better? This is my fault. This is all my fault. Stupid. Stupid. Worthless.

Placing a hand atop the hole in her gut, I could feel her weak pulse at the tip of my fingers and see a black and purple blight beginning to spread out from the site. Reaching into my bag, I withdrew a potion and quickly ripped the cork out with my blood-soaked fingers. I watched as the liquid drained from the bottle, passing her lips and disappearing from view. But the stubborn wound refused to heal.

"Shit! Fug!" I cried out, throwing the defunct potion into the bushes before reaching for another.

"Iz!" Sharzin slid to me, grabbing one of her potions. "It's not just the potion. That—That's frangulnoa poison. That bull was infected...it's infecting her. Even if we heal her, the poison will take her."

Frangul-fuggers? I thought, touching my body and cursing more. Crap! Antidotes! Why didn't we buy antidotes?

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Wait—!" I reached up and grabbed the amulet that hung from my neck. "Don't let me down now, Stüssy. Zin! Potion her!” 

Reaching a free hand forward, I inhaled a deep breath and felt the magic pooling in my palm. The tips of my fingers grew brighter as radiant light emanated from the wound, and I felt the warming sensation of the magic reaching its maximum potential. The pleasurable feeling flooded my body like a warm, sensual hug that enveloped every inch of me. And while it wasn't something I was great with, I had to attempt to overcharge the detoxifying spell that I had learned from Rionriv's books.

As I gooned the magic within me, Sharzin slid into position over the sorceress, where she uncorked a potion and began to pour it into Rionriv’s mouth. At the same moment, I released the wave of healing magic and watched as the grievous wound began to heal over. The contamination flared brightly under her skin, retreating from her body and spilling out as a thick ichor across the ground.

“That’s a good sign!” I exclaimed as Rionriv gasped and sat up, ready to fire off her own magic. “Whoa, hey! Breathe, you’re okay now.”

She panicked for a moment, grabbing her side and looking at the wound. Rionriv's breathing gradually slowed before her gaze glanced my way.

“You—" The sorceress muttered. "Healed me?”

“Well, yeah?” Nodding to Sharzin and the empty potion bottle. “I mean, she helped too.”

Rionriv smiled, looking to Sharzin and then me for a moment before glancing down at her wound once more.

“Thanks.” She spoke softly before delivering a hard punch to my chest. “But next time, maybe prevent me from almost dying, ‘kay?”

"Sure thing," I replied, watching as she glanced at the blood in my hand and then back to me. "Oh, don't worry. It's not tuberculosis. Just internal bleeding."