Immovable Mage

– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Rising Moon, Day 91 –

Terry jumped up and pushed his mana bubble to the edge of his mana control range while commanding Oz to scout the shadows. Soulsight overlaid his vision and he raced towards Shroomville.

Even though the bodiless voice from the sphere hadn't exactly sounded like the man, Terry had immediately identified Khaled as the sender. Something about the mana, but there was no time for him to dwell on the question.

Terry's mana-charged arrival caused an uproar among the shroomans, who were tending to the forest and wildlife. In a nervous flurry, they frantically gathered around.

Terry was relieved to find Bugsby not far from him, but his relief wasn't long to last.

"What do you mean they won't leave?" Terry shifted his incredulous gaze from Bugsby to the shroomans and back.

One of the elder shroomans wiggled and huffed while Bugsby explained their position to Terry.

[The realm is weak here. The forest needs help. They'll flee when they can, but they can't. Not yet.] Bugsby shook his head. [They say to take Shroomling. They're after her and we'll be faster without them.]

"But—" Something in Bugsby's demeanor caused Terry to pause. There was a sadness in the beetlefolk's posture and limp antennae.

[It's always like this,] signed Bugsby. There was a profound intent of felt impotence in the beetlefolk's finger runes. [They always tell me to save Shroomling and escape when…]

Terry recalled the moment he had first crashed into Bugsby and Shroomling. He realized that the two had probably just escaped from another elven assault after abandoning another incarnation of Shroomville.

A part of Terry wanted to refuse their refusal. He couldn't bring all of them along against their wishes, but he could stay and fight.

However, he didn't forget what that would mean. He wouldn't just fight moon elves. He would fight his other expedition members.

As much as Terry wanted to put aside his concerns for escalating the situation, he was forced to confront the fact that this wasn't like the Lich Kingdom invasion.

There was no way Terry could convince himself that the people coming were like the twisted monsters pouring out of the damned kingdoms. The expedition members had come here, not to conquer, but to help this realm.

Terry was confident he could make a stand, but only if he went all out, which meant lethal force. He couldn't possibly hope to hold back mages at the level of Yorgos or William for long while holding back.

Then what?

Killing them would leave the entire expedition at odds. Those sympathetic to his side might be pushed to reconsider. Those hostile to him would take it as further evidence that they were right. It would be a civil war among the expedition.

And even if my side wins, how the Wastes would I ever explain their blood on my hands when I get back?

No, lethal force against other expedition members was an absolute last resort, but what could he do then?

Terry might be able to hold them back for a while, but eventually, they would slip him by.

Perhaps he would mess up after fighting for days.

Perhaps they would overwhelm him with sheer numbers.

If he couldn't kill them, it was only a matter of time before they won. Losing Shroomville was inevitable.

Terry had no delusions that he could persuade them to back off. Not with everything he had heard from Patricia and Khaled.

Even if he could convince them that the shroomans were proper folks, that would only put them on equal standing with the local elves. In their framing, it would still be the lives of the few against the lives of the many.

'Frequently, there are no solutions, only trade-offs.' Terry recalled the quote from the Warlord.

He was aware there were other Shroomvilles around the realm. A part of him knew the slaughter had been continuing, even with him present. He still didn't want to leave the shroomans that were in his sights.

In the end, there was a single thought that allowed Terry to firm his resolve and calm his mind.

If they're tracking Shroomling, then we can lead them away from Shroomville.

Oz vanished within Terry's cloak.

Bugsby clung to Terry's back.

Terry picked up a shivering Shroomling. He burst his sluggish mana and bolted away with all the speed his mana channels allowed.

***

Terry ran tirelessly.

Every step was a burden on his mana channels.

Every step was a relief on his conscience, knowing that it was a step to further draw away the pursuers from Shroomville.

The biggest problem was that he had no idea where he should run. Thanks to Khaled and Patricia, he had a rough map of the realm, but what did that help when the entire realm was out to hunt the pitiful shrooman in his arms.

The Moon Faction was out of the question.

The Sun Faction might not be actively hunting the shroomans at the moment, but they certainly weren't friendly to them, either.

Giants.

Terry's mind inevitably wandered to the only other major local faction he was aware of. The folk of goblinoid giants that still lived in their own corner of the realm. He had heard them being described as blood-thirsty savages, but he couldn't say he was putting much trust in the locals' descriptions anymore.

The goblinoid giants were part of the cursed army, so they were around when the curse started.

They should be in that direction.

Terry recalled the sketch of the map that included the trail that Patricia had planned to cross and the path that Rafael had departed on before her.

One reason Terry hadn't seriously considered visiting the giants earlier was simply the sheer distance that separated him from their closest territory.

Terry would love another data point in his timeline. He would be ecstatic to receive another historical account of the realm that wasn't influenced by either the Moon or the Sun.

But the distance…

"So what…?" Terry gritted his teeth. "Nothing I haven't crossed before."

Except when I escaped from the folded space, I didn't have anything else to do than running home. I had time.

What else am I supposed to do? If they can track Shroomling, we have to remain on the move.

Every day running is another day people are suffering under the curse. Great job, Terry.

An involuntary growl escaped from Terry's lips, and he could feel the worried multi-faceted eyes of Bugsby on himself.

Focus, weirdo.

Terry sped up further while his mana bubble pushed forth even faster to scout ahead.

***

Terry changed direction the moment he sensed the mana distortion in front of him.

What's the point? That's either going to be Yorgos or Mia.

"Probably Yorgos," muttered Terry.

You might be fast but you're not going to outrun a dimensional mage.

Terry didn't stop running. He sensed the signatures appearing behind him.

Yikes.

To bring so many with an unanchored spatial transfer? Guess they didn't want to risk me disrupting any anchors for a gate.

That bodes well for negotiations.

Terry scowled to himself. He could feel the magic shaping up behind him, and scoffed. His mana bubble contracted around the expedition squad and disruption fields tore through their spellwork before it could be ignited.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Guess they underestimated my disruption range.

Terry could feel the surprised expressions.

Good.

Terry knew it would only delay the confrontation. There was no way he could get away when Yorgos was leading his opponents. But if there was any room for negotiation, then he would prefer to start with a stronger position, which meant proving to them that there was a price to pursuing him and his friends.

It won't last. At this range, I can't keep all their spellwork from activating.

Couldn't even stop William, evidently.

Terry's mana underneath the earth could sense powerful roots surging up and following him from below. Before they could entangle him, he darted upwards on divine layers of mana.

Terry's expression darkened when many mana distortions appeared all around him. Simultaneous transfers activated to box him in.

Terry didn't flinch and merely adjusted the angles of his divine barriers to push through the gap between the flying opponents.

Terry burst through spatial barriers. He disrupted any spell they threw at him.

A particularly nasty water-aspected spell took a hold of his blood, but an internal disruption burst expelled the foreign influence over his body.

Terry felt the air sucked out of his lungs and glared at the source of the sudden vacuum and the previous water spell.

William.

Terry knew the Guildhead as a tracker first and foremost, but evidently, the elven mage was much more troublesome than he had expected.

Terry had thought Yorgos would be the most annoying opponent, but compared to the broad range of vicious spellwork William employed, Terry very much preferred the space-aspected focus of the dimensional mage.

If it wasn't for Yorgos's transfer spells at least…

Terry pushed mana into his lungs. It wasn't ideal. Substituting mana for oxygen was even worse than doing the same for nourishment or sleep, but he didn't have much of a choice.

Terry glanced at Shroomling, and he became more aware of the weight on his back that was Bugsby.

Do they require air like I do? Probably…

Terry's face turned grim. Inscriptions flared up along his armor and while he was darting forward, he smashed a divine hammer back towards William's annoying face.

"Hand it over!" growled William.

"Terry, for mana's sake, stop this madness!" shouted Yorgos. He already had an idea of what Terry was capable of, and he wasn't looking forward to facing it. As a dimensional mage, fighting against Terry's annoying mana type with Terry's even more annoying range was like fighting with a crippled arm and leg.

"Look, who's talking!" spat Terry. "You're the one attacking me!"

"Because you're sabotaging what we came for!" accused one expedition member. "We're trying to stop the curse! And you're destroying every chance of that!"

"PISS OFF!" Terry flung another divine hammer at William, who was about to ignite another spell. He followed it up with a targeted disruption field enveloping William specifically to buy himself time to get some distance.

"Millions are dying!"

"Hand it over, Terry," demanded Yorgos with a hand held out. "We both know you're not getting away." Even if his opponent's disruption techniques were severely sabotaging his spells and limiting his transfer range, there was no way for Terry to flee. Not without the assistance of a rival dimensional mage.

"She's not an 'it'," growled Terry. He glared at Yorgos with bloodshot eyes. "Unless there is a way to develop the cure without killing her or any other folk, then you can all go to the Wastes."

"Not developing the cure is killing folks right now," hissed William with maddened eyes. "Or are elves not exotic a folk enough to be worthy of equal consideration?"

"This madness has to end!"

"We've given you enough time to rethink your actions," said Yorgos sadly. "We're done waiting. Hand her over."

A sudden calmness washed over Terry. Whenever he was alone with his thoughts, he had fallen to second-guessing himself. Wondering which path was the right one. Now that he was forced into a direct confrontation, he felt there was barely any choice to make.

Perhaps he was wrong.

Even so.

There was still only a single path he could see for himself.

Terry shifted Shroomling to a single arm, and his king spear jumped into his free hand. Its pole elongated and lightning crackled with the scent of ozone. "No."

"You'd kill us for them?"

"Instead of curing the curse, you'd spill blood to prolong it?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Some Guardian."

"Monster!"

"I don't want to kill you, boy," warned Yorgos. "I'd hate explaining that to your family. Don't make me do this."

"Funny." Terry scoffed. "I thought something similar. I hope Weran or Naer or whatever isn't too attached to you."

Seriously. I really hope so, because if the wrinkly elf is out for revenge against me, that's not a fight I see myself winning.

Right when Terry thought bloodshed would be inevitable, he felt a pat on his shoulder. Near a small hand, finger runes shaped up. [I'm ready. We can go.]

"Uhh…" Terry blinked with confusion. What?

"What's that?"

"Finger runes? Who did this?"

It seemed the expedition squad had barely even registered Bugsby's presence before. If Terry was surprised at the signed words, then the rest were simply stunned.

"Okay?" Terry muttered without knowing what he should expect.

Both Terry and Yorgos could sense it at the same time. A budding space manipulation.

Yorgos instantly locked the space with an iron grip.

Terry briefly burst his mana when he was interrupted by finger runes. [Don't. Unnecessary.]

Terry creased his brows. He wanted to break Yorgos's reshaping spatial lock, but the beetlefolk had told him not to. Then he realized why…

Void.

This isn't just space manipulation.

Despite the spatial lock, Terry felt himself pulled along and he allowed it to happen.

***

Terry found himself in a wide grassland, with no forest in sight. "Huh…" He spread his mana bubble. "Oz, still there?"

Why are you speaking to the slime? You can feel it from the shadows in your cloak.

"Habit," muttered Terry. He told Oz to scout the shadows while his mana was feeling out the area. He looked around and realized that none of the tall sights he had used to orient himself before were visible from his new location.

I guess that was quite a long-range transfer.

Good, that should buy us some time. Even William's bumblebees or whatever the researchers have cooked up with the moon elves should still require some time to locate us.

Terry's gaze wandered to Bugsby. "That was something."

He pierced right through that spatial lock like it wasn't there.

"Where are we, though?" Terry checked on Shroomling, who fortunately didn't appear bothered by the transfer at all.

[I don't know,] signed Bugsby. [Doesn't work like that.] He flew away from Terry's back and checked on Shroomling as well. He looked relieved when she appeared as chipper as always. He pointed at her. [She might.]

Shroomling began wiggling and Terry let her down, where she began to rub her butt against the earth while huffing and puffing.

I…

Terry decided to ignore whatever Shroomling was trying to do and looked at Bugsby with a raised eyebrow. "How does it work?"

Bugsby tilted his head and pointed at his antennae. [See lines. Tap into lines. Lines take me somewhere. Different lines. Knotted lines lead to other realms. Had to learn to find them.]

Oh mana…

"Please tell me, we're not in another realm," exclaimed Terry.

[No, of course not,] replied Bugsby to Terry's relief. [Shroomling doesn't want to go. I asked before. Refuses to leave her realm while it's unhealthy.]

So there are other 'lines' that don't cross realms.

Void aspect. Realm-crossing.

Terry looked appraisingly at Bugsby. The beetlefolk had mentioned that his kind travels to other realms in search for a compatible magic tree to procreate with.

Realm traveller.

"Why did you stay in this realm?" asked Terry. "Is there a chance for a compatible tree here?"

Bugsby shook his head. [No. At least, I don't believe so anymore. This realm is…] He scratched his head and proceeded to clean one of his antennae. [I guess Shroomling would say the realm is unhealthy. I don't have hopes to find my tree here.]

Terry furrowed his brow.

[I can't leave her.] Bugsby pointed at Shroomling, who was still rubbing herself enthusiastically against the ground. [She's my friend. I would make her my tree finder if there was any chance of finding one in this realm. They can't defend themselves. Can't even flee. Things were bad, but got worse. Much worse. She can't defend herself. She can't flee, either. It isn't fair.]

Terry took a deep breath and tried to order his thoughts.

The teleportation involves the void aspect and can cross vast distances, but the destination isn't chosen except by choosing a specific 'line' to tap into.

"Line…" Terry muttered to himself while scanning through the impressions he received from his mana touch, soulsight, and from his link with Oz in the shadow plane.

If those knotted lines are connections for crossing realms, then the lines must have something to do with the veil.

Wait…?

Terry's eyes widened.

Is that why they crashed into me? If the lines represent weaknesses in the veil, then my appearance, or rather my mana bubble of oscillating mana somehow interrupted their transport?

I know that oscillating mana has an effect on the veil from closing the hellspawn veil tears in the Valkyrie's prison dungeon.

"Maybe…" Terry bit his lip while the furrows in his brow creased further. His gaze inevitably returned to Bugsby.

Crossing realms…

Terry didn't understand why, but he suddenly thought of the sun elves, or rather about what he had heard of the Sun Faction. The faction that had abandoned the attempts to eradicate the curse and were instead aiming to flee this cursed realm.

Crossing realms means crossing the veil.

Terry only knew of a single aspect that pierced the veil.

The space-constant antithesis to his oscillating mana. The intersection with death instead of life.

Void.

If the sun elves are dreaming of fleeing the realm, then of course, they would be interested in a realm walker wielding an innate void-based teleportation magic.

Terry had the bad premonition he already knew what, or rather who, the target of the Sun's hunt was. He just wasn't sure if he could confirm his suspicions by asking Bugsby.

Would he even realize that some of the elves were after him instead of Shroomling?

At least the Sun should not aim to kill Bugsby if they worship life. But then again, they have a violent history with the moon elves, so evidently the Sun isn't above killing.

"Bugsby, how old are you exactly?" Terry bit his lips. How old is Shroomling?

[I'm still young,] replied Bugsby.

Perhaps my guess isn't right after all.

A part of Terry was relieved. For a moment, he had believed that Bugsby's appearance in the realm might have been the reason behind the sun elves' most recent change in behavior. The reason the sun elves had begun another hunt.

It would be a lot easier if Terry was wrong. Much easier to persuade the sun elves to stand against the moon elves if Shroomling was all he had to worry about.

[It's barely been two centuries since I started searching for my tree.]

Mana, damn it…

Terry covered his face in his hands and took a deep breath. Evidently, beetlefolk had a different conception of 'young' than he did.

[Shroomling says she knows where we are…]

***