Ends of Magic

Nathan eyed Eolinne, well aware they didn’t have time for an extended conversation. They were still in middle of Litcliff, and it was very likely that the Oligarchs were in the process of mobilizing their forces to attack Nathan and the Heirs. Their covert assassination had failed, after all. The Heirs might be able to win that fight, but it wasn’t a fight they needed to have in the first place.

Eolinne still had that faint smile still on her face, as if she knew something he didn’t. She didn’t even seem to be breathing, and Nathan tentatively scanned her with his magical senses, finding nothing but a mess of intricate enchantments that dripped with both mana and wizardry. Everything she wore was magical, from the snow-white dress to the crown of blackened branches and the flute made from bone-white wood.

He’d been warned that she worked for Questors, but he didn’t know whom. She’d likely saved Sarah’s life from the assassin’s strike. But that wasn’t enough to completely earn his trust. He was the target, and it was possible that all of this was a ploy to get him somewhere where she could kill him.

Like the deep ocean. I’ve got a lot of skills, but if she kicks me off a boat a thousand miles from land I might be in trouble.

“Who do you work for?” Nathan asked guardedly.

Eolinne’s red-painted lips quirked, though Nathan couldn’t tell if it was humor or derision. “Can you guess? Would the name truly hold significance to you?” Her voice was polite and polished. It made Nathan feel like a country oaf.

Nathan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I was told the name of one I should seek out. Tell it to me, so I can start trusting you.” He nodded to Khachi.

The wolfman's took that as his cue, but then he spoke out a quick prayer. "As comrades in battle, I invoke honesty in our dealings. By the blood we have shed together, we will not lie in this moment." The golden light that bloomed around the entire group was more subtle than what Khachi had been wielding a moment before, but it was no less profound.

“Ah,” Eolinne responded, revaluating. She held hand to her chest and blinking her eyes closed in a gesture that seemed apologetic. “I bear the shame of my assumption.” Then she opened her eyes and met Nathan’s suspicious expression. “I am an agent of the Questor Sarya Pamaris, the Queen of Keihona.”

Nathan exhaled a breath of relief. "Finally. Are you ready to sail? I’ve had enough of being attacked by Badud’s catspaws.”

Eolinne's lips curved up into a triumphant smile at his response. “Harmonious. Let us depart. Since you cannot fly, we must take the streets.”

“We can fly,” Stella broke in, already casting the spell on herself before replicating it on Aarl and Sarah. “It just seemed like a bad idea when everybody could shoot us.”

“I shall cover our passage with my mist,” Eolinne said in an unhurried tone, as if this was an everyday conversation. But her feet were already lifting off the ground as her dress blended into the mist around them. She drifted in the wind instead of flying in a straight line like the Heirs did. It was surprisingly fast, as well as looking effortless and elegant.

Nathan rose in her wake, finding that his upgraded class skill made it easier to ride the wind alongside her. It felt like he could make himself lighter to let the wind catch him and blow him around.

A dense bank of fog swallowed them as soon as they rose above the houses. The damp whiteness covered the world in all directions, and Nathan couldn’t tell how far his vision went, but it wasn’t far. He followed Eolinne with his magical senses as she drifted in the general direction of the docks. He could tell that the fog was magically conjured, but he allowed it to remain within his aura. It still burned away from contacting his skin.

I have control over my aura, but my body is still anathema to magic. No magic items for me anytime soon.

The Heirs flew close behind him. Sarah looked around like a hawk as she gazed into the obscuring mist. “They’re mobilizing, but everybody seems confused. More ballista there. Soldiers on the walls with crossbows. Archer…” She trailed off and swapped pistols for her rifle, aiming down the sights. A muted shot boomed out a moment later. “She was tracking us. Must have had skills to see through fog like I do.”

Nathan could feel more groups of soldiers barricading the streets below them, several of them carrying potent enchanted siege weapons. Nobody seemed to know what they were doing and two groups of soldiers were setting up barricades facing each other just a block apart.

Probably a casualty of me blocking communications, and the mist cutting sightlines.

He considered disenchanting some of the magical siege engines as he passed overhead but dismissed the idea. Instead he blocked the detection magic that the soldiers were using to look for targets. He didn’t want to give his enemies any clues as to their locations.

As they approached the docks Eiolinne came to a stop and waited for them. She hovered serenely in midair, blending into the mist except for the black ribbon around her waist and the blackened crown. She turned to face him and he saw her eyes glowing a flickering red and her lips pressed into a scowl. “A foul note indeed. They have boarded the Grace of the Mists.”

“Is that a problem?” Nathan asked. “Is your crew safe?”

The reply was swift and sharp. “I have no crew, and the Grace of the Mists will consume those who dare sully its decks. But the statement is clear. The Oligarchs have decided to openly oppose me.” She paused and seemed to consider. “That is a decision they must be forced to regret.”

Then she turned and flew down towards where Nathan could vaguely feel the mix of wizardry and mana that was her ship. It was more agitated than the last time Nathan had felt it, and as he followed her he could sense clusters of guards holding position on the decks. They had detection magic going, but Eiolinne slipped through like a wisp of the fog she floated within. Nathan's approach was blunter, tearing a hole in the detection web to prevent the guards from picking up the approaching Heirs.

The mist was even denser here, thick enough that Nathan couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Sarah was guiding the other Heirs through the fog, following Nathan’s lead.

His eyes were useless, but Nathan’s magical senses picked out the moment that Eiolinne set foot on the deck of her ship. The magic laced through the entire hull awoke and lashed out at the trespassers in response to her command. Twists of illusion and dream mana spun around the trespassers and they drifted apart from each other, lost in a world of whiteness. One by one isolated guards vanished, sucked away to a dimensional space tethered to the ship.

Well shit. That’s some serious magic right there. Not the kind of thing you could fight your way out of, though I bet Stella and Khachi could bust out with magical might. And it couldn't grab me in the first place.

He descended, hovering a foot above the white wood of the ship as he felt the last of the Litcliff soldiers disappear. The swirling magic came for him next, not seeming to know or care that they were Eiolinne’s allies. He shut it down hard, absorbing every scrap of the befuddling spell that stretched towards him.

The magic of the ship jerked back as if stung. But just moments later it returned, this time reaching out with wizardry to twist and distort the world around the Heirs. He smashed those tendrils with his aura and snarled towards where Eiolinne stood nearby. “Control your ship.”

She let out a demure laugh that was barely audible to Nathan’s ears and patted the railing affectionately. The ship’s magic calmed down and the mist lifted to reveal the spotless white deck of the Grace of the Mists. The vapor still held in every direction, making it feel like they were within a cavern with walls of water vapor.

Eiolinne gave them a coy smile and dipped her head slightly to the Heirs. “I acknowledge your virtuosity. Befitting those who frustrated Badud’s ambitions and sent him fleeing in death.”

“That was Nathan’s deed,” Khachi said proudly. “We are his team, but it was his hand that struck down Giantsrest and its Questor.”

“In single combat?” Eiolinne asked, one eyebrow arching nearly to her hairline.

Nathan shrugged dismissively. “He’s a mage. Breaking mages is kind of my thing.” Then he gestured towards the front of the boat. “Shouldn't we get going?”

Eiolinne spent a second longer studying him as if to discern his secret. Then she turned and began walking to the aftercastle, where a throne-like chair of white wood sat at the highest point of the deck. “I would enjoy that narrative, and Sarya will enjoy it more. But first we will conclude our time in Litcliff.”

The Heirs followed the captain up the stairs to the aftercastle, the higher vantage point providing an equally bland view of the fog. The raised area looked like it was designed to be a fighting platform, with gates on the stairs and wooden crenelations rising up from the outer hull to offer cover.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The moment Eiolinne sat in the chair the ship shivered, the magic within stretching like a cat waking up from a nap. With a snap of her fingers the gangplanks retracted and the ropes untied themselves from the dock. A breeze started blowing from behind them, caught by sails of solid-locking mist that materialized on each of the masts.

Nathan rolled his eyes at the theatrics. It seemed like it would be easier to propel the ship by magic instead of using magic to conjure a wind and then catch that wind in magical sails. But what did he know? Maybe the symbolism was important. Regardless of the method, the ship surged forward with surprising speed and Nathan had to set his stance to avoid falling over. The bubble of clear space moved with them, and the fog on all sides showed no sign of abating.

“We will reach the waves soon, as the sun emerges. Then it will be time to navigate the rough seas of the southern coast.” Eiolinne spoke absently, her attention on the ship she was guiding out of harbor. “You have some minutes to rest while the water is calm.”

As if to contradict her words, the fog all around them suddenly streamed downwards like it was being sucked into the ocean by the world’s largest vacuum. Within moments the night was crystal-clear, with a picturesque view of the city of Litcliff stretching on the surrounding slopes and cliffs.

“That can’t be good,” Nathan observed as he looked towards the city. The palace of the Oligarchs especially drew his attention, with the siege weapons atop the various platforms dotted up the cliffs turning in their direction.

Eiolinne cursed. “By the cracked bells!” She put her flute to her lips once more and started playing a haunting melody. Mist washed out from her and from the bone-white wood of the ship, but it was immediately pulled into the water they sailed upon.

Now that it was active, Nathan could feel the subtle wizardry suffusing the water around Litcliff. It had been there the whole time, calming the sea around the port. Up until now he hadn’t really noticed it because of how gentle the effect was. But now it was awake and active, reaching upwards to ensure the sky was clear. The source was also fairly obvious, the wizardry flowing out from the direction of the Oligarch’s palace. “I think whatever artifact is keeping the sea calm is breaking your mist,” He observed, moving to the back of the ship. “Sarah and Stella, see if you can stop them from firing.”

He watched as the first trio of tree-sized bolts was launched in their direction, homing in on the Grace of the Mists. “Khachi and Aarl. We need this ship intact.” He stepped into the air, angling upwards to intercept the rapidly-approaching projectiles.

Eolinne's song changed from a haunting ballad to a rapid jig, and the Grace of the Mists accelerated out from underneath Nathan as he stretched out his aura to catch the descending missiles. Each was a massive wooden bolt with metal spikes hammered into their lengths to hold the enchantments. The magic would make the weapons home in on their target and penetrate magical shielding. Their payloads differed - one carried a straight explosive, while another conjured broad force blades to slice their way through the ship, and the last held a double-dose of shield penetrating enchantments.

By spending Stamina he was able to extend his aura and catch the weapons a few hundred feet away. They flashed across the intervening gap in moments and he just had time to disable the destructive payloads before the tree-sized bolts reached him. He tried to divert the one in the center but wasn’t properly positioned to do more than let it whizz by him.

Not even sure what I could have done. It’s a flying tree big enough to stake the Statue of Liberty if she got turned into a vampire. What am I gonna do, punch it?

To his left Aarl brought down the absurdly sized club he’d taken from Jaus right on the center of one shaft, bashing it off course and into the water. To his right was a resounding clang as the last projectile impacted Khachi’s magic-enhanced shield and deflected away, though the impact staggered Khachi and left a scrape along the metal of his shield.

A gunshot sounded behind Nathan, but he didn’t get the chance to look back. The next set of siege engines had already fired, though not in a coordinated salvo. Khachi and Aarl positioned themselves behind and below Nathan, ready to deflect the physical projectiles once he was done stripping the magic off of them.

What followed was a frantic minute of Nathan lashing out with his aura to disenchant projectiles while Aarl and Khachi blocked and bashed the weapons out of the sky before they could reach the Grace of the Mists. Nathan was spending more Stamina than he was gaining between stretching out his aura and running across the sky to keep up with the ship as it gained distance from Litcliff.

Aura Control 4 achieved!

A few attacks got through, but Nathan didn’t dare take his eyes off the sky long enough to look down. They were making progress away from Litcliff, but the siege engines had range to spare. Fewer were firing now than a minute before due to Sarah’s sniping of the crews, but Nathan didn’t know if they were doing enough to protect the ship long enough for it to get out of range.

What’s Stella doing? I was expecting lasers and lightning. But there’s nothing.

There was a gap in the stream of attacks and he took his eyes off the sky to look down. A single giant bolt was standing diagonally out of the deck of the ship but other than that the vessel looked untouched. Eiolinne was juking her ship wildly, and Nathan had sensed the dimensional pocket activating a couple of times.

What drew his attention was Stella standing at the very back of the ship, staring down at a small orb of dark purple fire writhing between her hands. Nathan recognized the spell from previous nights of tutoring, though as far as he knew she’d never cast a larger version.

She’s going for a Development. Always better odds of that if the first time you do something is in a fight. But I hope it's worth the risk.

He turned back to the onslaught of missiles, hoping Stella would get on with it. As if his thought had caused the change, he felt a flare of magic from below and heard Stella’s cackle, high and slightly maniacal. Nathan felt when she started channeling a serious amount of mana into the spell, and the purple glow from the spell reflected off the water below.

Uh-oh. I’m worried.

After another twenty seconds of charging Stella let the spell fly, and a car-sized orb of purple fire so bright it hurt to look at blazed underneath Nathan, headed towards the Oligarch’s palace. It was propelled by a jet of purple fire reminiscent of a rocket engine and seemed to grow larger as it flew. It was only within Nathan’s senses for a second, but he swore the magic was getting more powerful as it burned through the air.

It only took a couple of seconds for the new spell to cross the distance to the palace, and the now bus-sized streak of purple flame impacted against a massive magical shield that flickered into view to block it. The explosion that followed was enormous even from this range, a bloom of purple fire that wrapped around the shield and persisted after the protective magic flickered and failed in sections. The flames latched onto the stone underneath, coating the entire palace in flickering purple light.

Nathan blinked at the eye-searing display, trying to process what had just happened. At least the siege engines had stopped firing by virtue of them all being aflame.

Is that fire burning the stone?

Status of Nathan Lark:

Permanent Talent 1: Arcane Nullfield 7

Permanent Talent 2: Immortal Body 6

Permanent Talent 3: Airwalking 7

Class: End of Magic level 733

Bottomless Stamina: 52931/74100

Indomitable

The Undeniable Strike of the Antimage

Stamina Burn

Momentum Mastery

Stoneflesh

Arcane Nullification

Galefoot

Close Quarters Mastery

Boundless Aura

Denial of Mysticism

The Ending of Magic

Aura Projection

Selective Dispel

The Living World

Class: Spellslayer level 525

Regenerative Focus: 3912/5350

Catastrophic Blows

Battle Stealth

Mage Infiltration

Forgettable

Sneaky Blow

Antimagic Stealth

Magical Manipulation

Lethal Index

Wizard Resistance

Magic Jammer

Controlled Failure

Utility skills:

Tranquility 1

Inspiration 8

Acceleration 10

Mystical Discernment 2

Alertness 10

Arcane Insight 2

Effortless Dodge 10

Mental Vault 5

Tutoring 7

Parkour 8

Visibility Control 4

High-tier Disguise 5

High-tier Battle Cry 2

Aura Control 4