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[Omen of the Witchblade] Chapter 56 – A Brookmoors Reunion
🕑 Added 2025-01-07 00:31:50 +0000 UTC“I would hurry if I were you,” the man said in a lazy, rolling tone as if he had all the time in the world. “I saw some of those biomasses on my way up the other side. They’re coming up ‘round this way.” He smiled and gestured at Mel. His white teeth in the dark mouth of the tunnel reminded Mel of the cheshire cat. “‘Lo, Mel. Glad to see you’re well.”
“Are you going to help us across?” Mel asked, curious.
The man put a hand to his chest, feigning shock. It was something Deklin would do. “My dear girl, where would the fun be in that?”
Yep, he’s definitely a Magi.
The viking got up, carefully securing the chain to her back as she peered down the ledge.
Chittering howls and snarling voices echoed behind Mel and the viking. She turned and readied her twinblade as the creatures came around the bend, cutting off their retreat.
“Anytime now,” Mel said.
“How good of a climber are you?” the viking asked, summoning those claws to her fists. The cloak’s sleeve overlaid onto her weapon, resembling a wolf’s paw.
“Fair,” Mel said, “but I should point out that there’s nothing to hold on to. That’s a sheer wall.” Mel looked at the wall of stone. Aside from the crater, there wasn’t much in the way of handholds. They were stuck. “If there was more space to get a running start, I might be able to make the jump, but that’s not an option.”
“Oh, I can.” Her weapons disappeared despite the shambling creature emerging from the cave. “I know you aren’t much of a hugger, but we’re doing this.”
“Doing what–” Mel started to say before the viking pulled Mel into her powerful arms. With an unnecessary squeeze, she fell into a deep crouch and leapt across the divide.
They landed on the other side just as the blonde Magi was finishing his tea. “Splendid, Gwen! Though I think you could have left it a few more seconds for a splash of dramatic flair.”
“Easy for you to say that while you’re enjoying tea, Thomas.”
Mel slipped out of Gwen’s grasp. She straightened her [Sanguine Coat] and frowned at the monsters on the other side of the expanse.
They were undeterred by the break in the ledge. Rather than leap as Mel thought they might, the lead creatures sprouted dozens of insectile legs and scuttled up the rock face of the mountain.
Gwen frowned at that. “Typical Lormarians.”
“Time to go!” the blonde man announced. He got to his feet, put away the empty teacup and produced a grimoire heavily ensorcelled with magic and decked in runes.
Gwen lashed her chain across the treasure chest and fastened it to herself like a gaudy backpack. She beckoned for Mel to get behind the Magi.
Mel was already moving. She knew spellcasting when she saw it, though she didn’t know that there were spells beyond rituals here.
Aspect Skill: [Black Grimoire: Shatter]
Huh, now that’s interesting.
Runes flowed from the pages of the grimoire, glowing with power as the spell took effect. The area between the Magi and the creatures broke apart as if some invisible giant was smashing the stone with a hammer the size of a school bus.
Unable to keep their grip on the shattered mountainside, the creatures were washed away into the ravine far below. Thomas turned to them. “As much as I enjoy showing off, I would prefer it if you got a move on.”
They ventured deeper into the tunnel the Magi had come from. It wound its way through the mountain and out along a slanted but otherwise traversable side of the mountain. Scree bounced and slid beneath their feet, but it did make for a quick way down to the plateau’s ground level.
Gwen tore across the slanting scree-ridden slope, shouldering aside the debris of boulders and fallen trees in their way. She practically carved a path for them.
Thomas looked at Mel and grinned. He genuinely seemed happy to see her. “You’ve been missing for quite some time, Mel.”
“So it seems,” she said guardedly, unsure how to take this new level of attention while also grappling with the end of her quest for vengeance.
She had killed the ones responsible for the deaths of her friends, but she was hardly a step closer to getting them back.
Something Warren said stuck with her. For all that she had warned him about what would happen, her hands were stained with more blood than his. At least directly.
Even if it was the blood of murderers and kidnappers.
Worse, her actions had driven him to the brink of desperation. Whatever he had done to his own people could be laid at Mel’s feet as well.
If she hadn’t pushed him to such lengths, would those people still be walking around instead of turned into monstrosities?
Mel shook her head. It’s not like me to let people get under my skin like that.
At the same time, if she had just killed Warren and Jimmy as soon as possible, maybe he wouldn’t have had time to get desperate.
Thomas looked at her, his golden eyes weighing her as if he could hear her thoughts. He looked away and pretended not to notice her internal struggle as they made their way through the mountain plateau to its neighbor.
A vertical aurora greeted them at the barrier between the two plateaus. On their side was dry and cool mountain air. On the other was a sea of amber grain swaying in the wind. The ground rolled and fell away with dirt roads and weathered ruins dotting the landscape between rivers and rounded hills.
There was a darkness to the place that Mel couldn’t quite place. As soon as they stepped through the barrier, Mel realized what it was.
There was significantly less light here. She grinned to herself, realizing the advantage it gave her.
I’ve never been this far from the starting area, Mel realized. I don’t know if I ever would have seen this plateau. The mountains of the previous area block it from all angles. And yet those mountains are nothing compared to that single mountain in the distance that dominates the skyline. I wonder what’s there?
If the plateaus were regular in size, it would have been easier to plot out a course through them. Unfortunately, the plateaus came in all sizes and shapes. Some were round like the grasslands plateau.
Others were L-shaped or squiggly like a shakily drawn M, and everything in between. The only thing Mel hadn’t seen so far was a plateau so small that she could cross to the other side in less than an hour.
Even at her enhanced speed, most plateaus took at least half a day to traverse at full speed.
Gwen noticeably brightened at this new plateau, then took in a deep breath of the fresh air. “Hello again, clear, open hunting fields and loot-filled ruins. I’ll be able to make so much bread!”
The viking led the way to their campsite. It was tucked out of sight within tall natural walls of sheer gray stone, yet the lone entrance offered a grand view of the wheat fields and ruins beyond.
The soft sound of a river wove through the camp, accompanied by the distant roar of a waterfall far at the back.
A cold campfire greeted them, surrounded by boxes, various tools, and even a whetstone wheel. Gwen knelt, replacing some of the used-up wood with new kindling from a half-empty log pile.
She rose, not bothering to start the fire for some reason. “Thomas, if you would be so kind?”
Without a word, Thomas took out an elegantly polished wand befitting a Magi. He traced it through the air, creating a series of glowing runes and sigils that hung in space.
Mel thought she vaguely understood what he was doing, but he did it so fast she couldn’t get a chance to properly examine his work. He dismissed his wand in a flurry of golden ash and touched two runes with his hand. The runes fell away, collapsing into each other as they dropped to the cold campfire below.
Ritual Spell: [Aspect Channel (Summer)]
Flames crawled across the wood as if it had been doused in gasoline. Soon enough, the campfire was crackling and popping with comforting warmth.
Mel watched, intrigued. She turned to the blonde man as he sat down on a log bench pushed up against a makeshift table without a word. Magi usually took magic for granted, but Thomas took it to the extreme. Most people, even Magi, would be patting themselves on the back so hard that they might sprain their arm.
Though it was roughly done, Mel could see that care and attention was given to the creation of everything here. This was nothing like the slipshod structures the Stolst gang had, nor was it the rustic non-magic version that Sabrina and the others had used.
This was something altogether different. A melding of physical prowess and magical understanding. In short, this was a Magi camp. Rustic, but comfortable.
I had nearly forgotten what it was like to travel with other Magi…
A lone Magi might travel very roughly, but when you put two of them together, they created comfort from nothing. It was almost as if they were constantly trying to outdo each other. Competition ran bone-deep among Magi, so that even when they were cooperating, they competed.
The result was almost always superior to what you would find alone.
“What would you like to eat?” Gwen asked the group, igniting a [Grav-brick Oven] set into the wall by placing a [Fire Coin] onto a small plate of carved runes and sigils beside it. Wherever the exhaust was, Mel couldn’t find it.
Mel didn’t understand the question. “Food?” She had spent the last month or so eating nothing but dried food, crackers that were so dry it was like trying to swallow a spoonful of cinnamon, and any fresh food she managed to find or catch.
I’ve spent every waking moment since Sabrina’s death hunting and killing those responsible. I stole most of my supplies, but it wasn’t like they were any good. I couldn’t take meat with me unless it was prepared.
Opening a wooden box, Gwen pulled out a wide clay bowl that smelled strongly of yeast. She looked up at Mel curiously. “Yes, food. Y’know, what you stuff your face with. Are you feeling more stew or steak?”
Mel wasn’t sure she wanted to eat their food. Not that she was worried about them killing her. They could have easily done that at any other point. Besides, poisoning was considered low brow among Magi. There were far more inventive and interesting ways to dispatch your enemies.
“You have…stew?” Mel whispered, hardly able to believe it.
“Gwen’s become a bit of a gourmand during the Convocation,” the blonde man said, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading. It looked ancient.
Gwen smiled warmly at that. It made her eyes shine.
“How?” Mel couldn’t help herself from asking.
“What do you mean?” she asked gently, as if Mel was a startled animal. Looking down, she kneaded a pile of dough before sliding it into the brick oven on a slab of stone. “I’ve always been a bit of a cook, and my sense of smell has sharpened ever since…well, the multiverse.”
Mel motioned to the world at large. “There’s not exactly a lot of spices around. No salt, garlic, onion, or I mean really anything! Even if you could find it, you’d have to cultivate it and that hardly seems conducive to the parameters of the trial!”
“No salt?” Gwen barked a laugh. “Of course there’s salt! Multiple types too. We even have [Fever Salt] on hand if you like it spicy. Besides, there’s plenty of ingredients to find. I have an inventory necklace exclusively for food.”
“She claims that mingling food with loot and gear sours the flavor,” Thomas said, turning a page.
She shot him a glare. “It does, Thomas!”
His golden eyes flicked up to Mel beseechingly as if this was an old, tired argument by this point. It probably was. Magi were nothing if not argumentative, with debates stretching centuries more often than not.
When she didn’t say anything, Thomas shook his head and went back to reading. “You know as well as I do that Kempler’s Law states expanded space does not mingle on even an atomic level. You could mix a pile of shit alongside a five-course feast and be fine.”
Mel grimaced. “But you’d always know...”
Thomas laughed. “There is that. The human element can never be entirely removed, I suppose.”
Gwen put a large pot onto the fire, then took out a tin of [Aged Bacon Grease] and dropped a dollop in. Mel could scarcely believe her eyes. Light streamed from the necklace nestled in her expansive cleavage, materializing a thick cut of [Exquisite Boar Meat] right into the pot.
“Where are the others?” Mel asked, distracted by the mouthwatering smell of searing meat.
“Hal and Sylvie went off to look for a dungeon,” Thomas said, turning another page. “They’ll probably be back soon. We check in every week or so. You know how they are, sibling rivalry and all that…”
Mel didn’t hear the rest of what he had to say. She felt like somebody had just gut punched her. Sylvie and Hal are here? They aren’t related!
Sylvie was from Brookmoors and Hal was from a normal Earth. The last she could remember, Hal was still on Aldim with all the others.
A feeling of icy dread settled in Mel’s stomach. Just what the hell is going on?
