Metaworld Chronicles

By Thursday morning, the Mageocracy's token reinforcement of administrative and support Maguses took their positions in Heathrow to await the arrival of the Magister-in-waiting nominated by Cambridge.

By all accounts from the Shard, Auckland would be fighting to keep the circling Mermen Shoal from landing, while Wellington would be mired in a battle of attrition until Auckland or its allies could spare the men and resources.

Most of their team members were older students, elected by their professors from Oxbridge's cohort to serve the Mageocracy's interminable trials, some natural and most man-made. A few were graduates picking up their final Questing credits for the trimester. Others were Maguses looking to pad their resumes before officially leaving the university for a government position. Presently, their de facto foreman was an experienced Magus from House Ravenport, sent by her mistress to ensure the others remained helpful and subordinate to their leader.

By her orders, the team had arrived fifteen minutes earlier to await the pleasure of the young lady who would lead the small group of nine.

"Magus Campbell." One of the men standing to attention beside the pre-activated ISTC portal raised a hand. "May I ask a question."

"Be at ease, Hughes," Magus Aria Ravenport-Campbell replied by raising, then lowering her hand as though she controlled the lever to their anxieties. "What is it?"

Like others in her House, she possessed the classic bone structure of the Ravenport's bloodline—grey eyes, dark hair, and a gaunt frame that accented her cheekbones. Like the Duke of Norfolk himself, her appearance gave observers the impression of inorganic geometry, particularly when paired with her rigidly starched pantsuit.

She could sense that the men and women under her command were nervous—and this was good.

"When shall we expect 'Magister' Song?"

"There's ten minutes yet. Even if Magus Song's tardiness is as legendary as her prowess—we're still ahead by an hour. If you're bored, read the METRO—the Front Page will inform you that our leader is a busy woman."

The young Magus chose to remain mum.

Aria shared that silence, for she knew that the sword and shield to their fact-finding mission was none other than the Devourer of Shenyang. For years now, the Devourer's infamy had been making the rounds, first through the Isle of Dogs, then through her Magisterial achievements on the Isle of Man, Wales, then Shalkar.

Though the public initially knew Magus Gwen Song through a scandal involving her lord and House Master, they soon renewed their perception when the Devourer consumed the Barlow Group, created the IoDNC, then crushed the ambitions of House Exeter on national broadcast Vid-cast.

Regardless of her age, Gwen's achievements commanded respect, even by the standards of London's haughty egos. The team's apprehension and concern, Aria suspected, was also born from the habitual reading of the Telegraph and the Sun, insinuating that Magus Song was an inheritor of "Deathless Kilroy's" Sanctioned Necromancy—and that her Caliban creature consumed, then enslaved the souls of Mages crushed under her stiletto heels.

Finally and absurdly, each student of Cambridge had been told that Magus Song would be guarded on this particular mission by the Terror of Emmanuel, "Dede" of the Pond.

The odd Mage from London Imperial might find the scene comical, but of half of the Oxbridge alumni present, being waylaid by a duck and having to give up fistfuls of HDMs as the world watched in sympathetic mockery was a trauma tattooed onto their bones.

Ding! A Message from House Ravenport bloomed beside Aria's ear.

"The Provisional Magister is here." The Magus nodded at her peers. "Mages! Look lively!"

A flash of silvery Conjuration from an adjacent platform announced the arrival of their leader and her troops.

The first to appear was a duck, the very same that made Cambridge's Maguses quake in their oxfords.

"Quack—!" The duck toddled from the ISTC array, then waddled among the men with the air of a drill sergeant.

Next came a svelte figure they would have mistaken for the Devourer but for the academic air and braided auburn hair. Aria recognised the woman as Magus Petra Kuznetsova, a scholar of Dwarven Glyphs with notable contributions hailing from Queens College.

The third arrival was known to Aria and the others, and his familiarity manifested in the dozen first names he called out, including Aria's own. The Spirit Mage was a frequenter of the College's endless bars, one famous for his Spirit and his "Shouts". In both knowledge and deed, Richard Huang was a senior Magus in all but name, well-known and well-liked on the campus for offering jobs from the Isle of Dogs. To Aria's knowledge, Richard "Dick" Huang could have graduated if he had taken up his professors' commendations—but chose to remain at Cambridge until such time that his cousin, the Devourer, also graduated.

The final figure to materialise was the Devourer herself.

In life, Provisional Magister Gwen Song appeared less imposing than on the Vid-casts, younger and more youthful and without the oppressive bearing of a seasoned murderess. To Aria, her features were regal, an exotic mix when paired with the vivacious unruliness of the Downunder Frontier. She walked with guileless ease among the men, which, combined with her uncommon comeliness, made her observers want to lower their guard.

Aria's informal impression was aided by Gwen's "costume", which consisted of a broad-brimmed summer hat, a maxi dress that bared her white shoulders, and what looked like sandals.

"Goodness." The Devourer's expression was mirthful as she slipped past Aria, then stepped onto the elevated platform. "Am I late? I did set the mustering at eleven-hundred, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Aria replied. "By your request, we're eager and ready to leave for Auckland."

"I did explicitly state to wear suitable attire for summer," the sorceress spoke as her gaze swept through her peers, each with collars mounted firmly to the chain, asserted by ties and elegant pins.

Aria quickly glanced at the Devourer's companions, noting that Richard wore a sporting jacket over golfing polos, while under Petra's laboratory coat, the scholar was wearing something suitable for springtime.

The duck, without a doubt, was buck naked.

"Where we're going, it is the late Australian summer. If the heat doesn't get you, the humidity will." Gwen reiterated. "And unlike London, our 80's ISTCs have relay delays baked into the system. Past Shanghai, we'll be at least an hour in Singapore, a few more in Darwin, then Cairns, then Brisbane, then finally, the Sydney to Auckland leg. You'll be awake for the next twenty-four hours, so get comfortable. Consider these hours your final chance at leisure. Once we're on the ground, it's Mermen and field rations until the port is in the clear."

"We have the necessary Enchantments, Ma'am," Aria informed her highness, partner to the future Duchess of Norfolk and, according to her mistress, a woman whose fame would resonate throughout the Mageocracy's domains. She recalled that the Devourer did indeed recommend suitable weather wear. However, not one of them had wanted to meet their commanding officer while wearing shorts, sneakers and polos.

The Devourer cocked her head with a half-grin. "Where we're going, the HDMs you'll be burning could keep a family safe from Mermen and do many things more helpful than running cooling Glyphs..." She paused. "...but then again, maybe that's why you've all been tasked with this tour of snobbery to see how the other three-quarter lives. No matter. Carry on."

Aria's first instinct was to protest that she had served as a vanguard in Ireland and an assistant administrator in the Algiers for six months, unlike the novices behind her.

But her new mistress' sardonicism was valid.

The men and women in front of her were all born with crystal spoons and bloodline blessings and had attended Eton or Cheltenham, then Oxbridge. Some had seen blood, a few had "seen things", but none would have had a fraction of the experiences the Devourer had imbibed in her rise to the top.

"Anything to report before we sally forth? Aria?" The sorceress asked Aria by invoking her name. The intimacy told Aria that Gwen and Mistress Charlene had been in close contact.

"All are accounted, Ma'am." Aria made a half-salute. "We're ready to reinforce Wellington!"

"Alright then—" the Provisional Magister gave them all a beaming, confident grin. "Hold on to your guts. We've got a long way to go!"

Wellington.

Somes Island.

Two kilometres from Fort Hinds, Yue Bai, "The Little Scarlet", coldly observed the spectacle of Wellington's eastern coastline turn from ultramarine to dull algae.

The last of the Shielding Stations, what's left of the array, had taken first blood—then spontaneously imploded as the pseudo-Krakens crashed into the concrete installations, toppling both resonator and crystal.

With the stations gone, the bizarre thrum that made her Astral Body tingle ceased, as did the shimmering ripples of mana warping the spotlights from Wellington's inland harbour.

Across the sound, flashes of spellfire from the Wondrous Energies Technical Academy erupted across the headland, landing just short of the shore. Where the long line of spinifexes ignited, her enhanced eyes could make out the long shadows cast by the first Mermen to land in Wellington in two decades. At the same time, parts of the landscape came alive, crushing, swallowing, and throwing the Mermen against the jagged shore.

She recognised the assailants as the short, stunted locals, bodily akin to bipedal, four-foot mudskippers with bulging eyes and fat, humorous silhouettes. Without proper armaments, they were usually friendly and docile—and had traded with the city. Now, whether by coercion or choice, they were the first wave leading the Mermen of the deep sea.

"Poor bastards," Jonas remarked as the explosions rang out, sending bundles of scorched bodies flying every which way. "What a life, to win the lottery of surviving the spawning pool only to become spell fodder for the real spell fodder."

Yue possessed no sympathy of any kind for an invader of mankind's sacred cities, but she did agree that these mudskipper Mermen weren't worth the mana in her veins. Even if they did reach Wellington, the damage these Mermen could do was near-negligible. Still, armed with what looked to be coral tridents and other implements from their deep-order cousins, they remained a threat to the NoMs hiding in the tunnel bunkers beneath Wrights Hill, as well as the Wand-wielding Wellington militia.

"There—" Billy bracketed a section of the incoming tide with a minor Illusion cantrip, drawing a square over Yue's field of vision. "That's the shock troops. They look organised, likely a splinter-Shoal from the main one near Auckland."

"Shit," Paul joined the Diviner. "So it's true then? A Prince is leading this particular Mermen Tide?"

"What's the bounty on one of those?" Yue smacked her lips. "I bet Master could find some uses for the Core."

"I think even Lord Gunther will break a sweat taking down an Elemental Prince," Taj warned her. "We don't even know what species it is. What if it's a Kraken?"

"Let's hope this doesn't turn out to be a 'Great Shoal' once the fireworks start," Raj said with a sigh. "Not even burning all the HDMs in Auckland's reserve will be enough to repel one of those."

The group turned their eyes back to the boiling sea.

By now, the half-hundred Sun Globes released from Wellington's WETA peninsular was messing with the Mermen's dark vision. For reasons of physiology, the Wave Witches that accompanied the Shoal almost always conjured forth fog and rain, which the globes then offset. In this way, non-offensive "Radiance" was itself a viable tactic against the Mermen, for many species of the more powerful bipedal aquatic folk were hypersensitive to both heat and light. That was why Mermen generally attacked at the dead of night, taking what positions they could to retreat with the tide, leaving behind hardened crustacean units as defenders.

Yue wrinkled her nose. Already, her company could smell the scent of scorched fish wafting across the sound, smelling like mouldy wood mixed with seared slime and rancid fish oil.

"I do love the smell of cooked seafood in the morning," Paul mimed an old saying of Alesia's.

"Stop wisecracking and focus on the Mandala," Yue gave the command, her dark eyes glimmering with the reflected light from Wellington bay. "As soon as the main bodies join the fight—we turn the damn bay into that place Gwennie visited on new year's."

"The Fire Sea?" Billy added helpfully.

"Damned right." Yue crushed the ball of purple fire dancing in the palm of her hand. "We'll make Allie proud."

Alesia de Botton was not a happy woman.

First thing in the morning, just after she had washed up after morning exercise with Gunther and was ready to attend to the task of setting fire to her husband's problems, a Message had arrived from her hubby, asking that she receive the cabal from London.

For several seconds, Gunther's suite in the uppermost section of the Tower fell under an immediate threat of renovation until Alesia recalled that they would have to live outside the Tower in the event of such an inconvenience.

To receive the snobs from the Shard? By herself?

Had these knobs asked for her specifically?

She had people to incinerate!

Monsters to explode!

Dens to ignite!

What was Gunther thinking?

And how could her hubby allow it?

The mana inside her wanted to teleport into Gunther's office and burn—but that wasn't what a good partner would do—and Alesia was meticulous in managing her temper around Gunther lest her whims cast a wedge between them. Her husband, she knew, was under enough pressure, and God forbid that she would add to his workload.

Therefore, with fiery eye-shadows wreathed in angry hues of scarlet and her hair wore loose, Alesia awaited the bastards from London in her official garb, a scarlet dress jacket with gold collars.

One by one, the Conjuration Glyphs lit up, spun into place, then connected with the Divination Glyphs in Brisbane. Sydney's new equipment had been well-used by now, but it was still mint enough to give off a stink unique to newly inscribed Glyph-runes. Just the same, the stonework under her booties thrummed as the incredible energies required to displace matter through the Astral coursed, distorting the Dwarven Lores of distance and space.

A flash later, the team from London arrived one by one in their arranged spearhead.

First came a duck.

A very pretty duck—but a duck nonetheless—

"Mother ducker…" Alesia did not immediately recognise the enormous duck as the one in her memory of LRM broadcasts with Gwen. All she could think of was that the Mageocracy had grown so arrogant that they couldn't even be bothered sending Magisters.

A cascade of sparks ignited from her flaming hair, setting the guards on edge.

If that duck isn't a Polymorphed Master Transmuter, then she would slow roast the damned thing over an open fire!

"You there!" She called out to the waddling monstrosity. "Are you—"

Thankfully, Gwen grinning like a shot fox was the next thing she saw.

This little hussy! Alesia's head made the connection at once. No wonder her husband was being so secretive! Oh, how she would make him pay!

"Alesia!" Gwen quickly broke ranks and ran down the dais toward her, as a Sister-in-craft ought.

Only now did Alesia recall that Gwen had recruited a duck—only in her memory, Dede was sleek, graceful and cute.

As Gwen came closer, Alesia's expression turned from unmitigated anger to pleasant surprise, then happiness. She couldn't help it—for such were the honesty of Alesia's innate emotions spilling from her heart.

"I've missed you!" Gwen drew around her, and Alesia reciprocated by hugging her sister tight.

"I as well." Alesia breathed out. "You should have told me."

"We were in a hurry—and I thought you'd enjoy the surprise." Gwen laughed, then gestured to the rest of her team. "And here's Richard. And you remember Petra, right?"

"Alesia." Richard nodded.

Petra bowed her head.

Parting from Gwen, Alesia nodded back at the cousins, her hair still trailing tiny motes of ember. "Just to confirm, you're the Magister from London, then?"

"Provisional-Magister." Gwen flashed her pearly whites. "How's that? I outrank you now, Magus De Botton. Where's my greeting?"

Alesia snorted. "You're looking for a spanking, Magister Song. Anymore of your arrogance and your men shall witness a sight for history books."

"Allie, you hurt me." Gwen touched a hand to her heart. "My one and only Sister-in-craft! How could you?"

"You rascal! Come here and receive your punishment!" the Scarlet Sorceress commanded, and the Devourer obeyed.

The two embraced once more, their arms entwining as their figures kissed. The pair remained entangled for a few seconds, just enough to allow reality to sink in, then parted with all misgivings forgiven.

"There's so much I have to tell you and Gunther," Gwen said, her expression quickly growing anxious. "I think we'll need a night at least to go over the details, and then we have to digest and verify the facts—"

"That won't be a problem," Alesia interrupted her as more Mages from London materialised behind her Sister-in-craft. "Are those yours?"

"Technically, yes," Gwen introduced her to her Lieutenant, Magus Aria Campbell, appending that she was a member of House Ravenport. "Aria here will be in charge of the crew from Cambridge while I perform my duties as a War Mage. Half of them will go to Auckland, while the other half will come with me to Wellington."

"You're going to the Front then?" Alesia asked. She hadn't expected much help from London, but if they sent Gwen—then Sydney's sister cities had better fortunes than Sydney a few years ago.

"Of course. Where's Yue now? And how's the situation?"

Alesia recalled the reports. "The Shoal reached critical mass forty-odd hours ago. By now, the fighting should have started. If I know Yue, she'll be in the thick of it."

"Then I will leave immediately," Gwen said. "Stem the tide first, then I'll portal back and discuss my findings with you and Gunther. Yue would probably want to know what she's fighting as well, eventually, at least. The intelligence is urgent— but it isn't something we can resolve until equipment and transport arrive from London in the next few months."

Alesia gave her sister a flattering look. "You've matured, Gwen. Those sound like some hefty weights on your shoulders, the kind our Master used to carry."

"I am doing what I can." Gwen smiled.

"Can you clue me in on what the problem is?" Alesia felt her curiosity burning a hole in her chest. "What are we fighting in reality?"

"Later, Allie—now's not a good time," Gwen insisted. "It's a very complicated issue, and much of it I can't verify."

Alesia shrugged. "Right. Wellington it is. So, from our latest reports, a split Shoal of Mermen currently sits east of Wellington, where the shallows meet the deep blue. Presumably, attacks by stragglers separate from the Mermen Prince's command structure are testing Auckland's defence. As for the south, if the Mermen assault begins this evening, then I'd say Wellington could really use your brand of aid. As for Yue's location—look for the Fireballs when you get there."

"Right, I'll head off then," Gwen confirmed her choice. "Magus Campbell will lead the Cambridge Mages to Auckland. I'll open the path with Richard and Petra in Wellington."

"A three-man team?" Alesia looked Gwen's cousins up and down.

"We should be alright," Gwen assured her.

Alesia turned her eyes toward the smirking Richard. "Looking good there, Dick. You've done well in London. Specs?"

"Abjuration Five, Conjuration, just Seven, and a few other tricks," Richard shameless boasted of his achievements. "Of course, it's all thanks to Gwen."

Alesia raised a brow at Petra, who relented under the Scarlet Sorceress' gaze.

"Enchantment Seven," Gwen's cousin reported with a flush of embarrassment in her cheeks. "That said, I've brought along a full complement of Spellcubes."

"You could do with a CQB Specialist and an Illusionist." Alesia thanked the two but preferred to give the kids plenty of warning. When she was their age, she had also thought herself invincible—though she had her Master to save her in place of modern-day comforts like Contingency Rings. "Was the Gracie girl too green? I guess you can crutch with Cali—"

"QUACK—!" her praise of Caliban was interrupted by a forgotten member of the Cambridge posse who had wandered off in search of food.

"Dede will help as well." Gwen patted the returned duck. "He's one robust feller."

"Quack!" The duck lifted an enormous, multi-hued wingspan.

Alesia could tell the duck was strong—and if indeed this was a duck fed on the stuff produced from Almudj, then even a five-man Questing team from London would have its hands full trying to contain its malice, much less kill it.

"Fine, fine," the Scarlet Sorceress conceded that the duck was a troublesome customer. Her next remark was directed at her sister's specific preference for fashion regardless of the occasion—something for which Alesia herself was guilty. "Are you headed to war wearing that?"

Gwen chuckled. "I've got the Big Bird suit, remember? I'll change once we're on the ground. Before we engage the Shoal, I'll need to bring a siege engine, and he can't be summoned while we're in the vicinity of a Tower."

"Ah—" Alesia could picture the brute in Gwen's imagery. Of all the strange creatures in Gwen's circle, she liked the lizard the best. "Now that I'd like to see."

"Hopefully, we'll get a few vid-casts in." Gwen grinned with glee as she strolled toward the second ISTC array. "You know, Allie, I have quite the following in London. What do you think? A weekly battle report of Wellington with images and stories from the ground—wouldn't that get the blood boiling? Once things are less dire, I'll transfer a few reporters over. Maybe Lorenzo would like a summer holiday."

Alesia had almost forgotten that her sister now apparently owned a propaganda arm of the local media in London.

"Maybe?" she said. Publicity was Gunther's domain. Her job was to incinerate his problems.

"When you get there, Magister Hildenbrandt is likely occupied," Alesia warned as Gwen's team mounted the second dais. Unlike the rest of Australia, Sydney's ISTC arrays were the latest imports from London and could be fired up within minutes. As for Auckland, the receiving end was currently burning a decade's worth of HDMs. "You'll be under the jurisdiction of Te Wherowhero, the Paladin of Auckland. He's an old friend of Gunther, so be respectful of his wishes. If Te needs you somewhere, do that before linking up with Yue. My Apprentice can take care of herself."

"Of course," Gwen assured her Sibling-in-craft. "Tell Gunther I said hey—and when I return, to make time for us to have that long talk."

Alesia's gaze of motherly concern grew infinitely soft as the ISTC turned quicksilver, sending its collection of Mages once more across the Astral, leaping through space toward their final destination.

Watching Gwen's nonplus war-face disappear, She sighed inwardly. To think the terrified girl she picked up would now be the terror of the South Sea.

When the history books mentioned this part of Auckland's history, what would they say of Gwen?

And indeed, what would the entry say about herself, who found Gwen in a party, trying not to get groped in Kirribilli?

Wellington.

Fort Ballance.

Magister Maka Kawhena, Academic Director and principal Geomancer at the Wondrous Energies Technical Academy, was never a dedicated War Mage.

Like other Magisters of his profession, his contributions had been in recovery, rebuilding, and stabilising Green Zones between Wellington and Auckland. Occasionally, he had been called out to assist in a Purge but never before had Kawhena been personally thrust into a scenario where he and his group of academics became personally responsible for the life of the fifty-thousand or so citizens now sheltering in Wrights Hill. Thanks to his designs, the city's walls and defences have held, even if it wavered in tune with the undulating tide of bodies crawling up the coastline.

A reasonable man would have fled.

Kawhena instead swallowed the despair like the bile in his throat. Should Wellington fall entirely and its militia consumed by the Mermen Tide, there was little hope that the women and children would be able to hold off the crab-clawed shock troops or the Marid Wave Witches who would flash-flood and drown their loved ones, then feast on their brains and livers.

A part of him hoped that Auckland would send a portion of its militias south or that the Halflings of Hamilton could offer their aid. That was wishful thinking. Compared to Wellington, even a partial collapse of Auckland would signal the death of more citizens and the destruction of far more critical infrastructure than his satellite port city. The Halflings were likewise peaceful, pastoral folk, unsuited for open warfare against a race that saw Humanity and each other as sources of nourishment. They would bring food, HDMs and medical supplies—but only in the case that Wellington held its ground and that their convoy didn't become fish food.

"Sir!" a cry from a colleague alerted the contemplative Magister to the dangers of excessive rumination in the middle of a battle. "B-27 reports surge of Mermen on the left flank! Crabmen and what looks like a Shell Priest! Sector B reports their Wands are low. Requesting recharging and refitting."

"Received." The Magister placed both hands on to the console.

From the vantage of the shielded WETA "Cave" overlooking the harbour, Kawhena activated his latent sorcery, allowing the motes of Earthen mana entrenched within his conduits to kiss the Mandala resting under his fingers.

Though not a Tower, Wellington was nonetheless founded on a mana node—meaning until WETA was overrun, Kawhena had "earthly" control over what remained of the landscape surrounding the central port.

That was the source of their confidence and why Auckland still delivered what help they could spare.

"Earth Shape!" The syllables of invocation came hard and fast on his lips, concluding with a simple command.

The projected map blinked into non-existence as the mana surge from the command station sunk into WETA's sub-systems—giving life to the distant landscape.

Not far from the newly risen walls separating the academy from the Mermen tide washing over Wellington's shores, a spontaneous landslide erupted from atop Breaker Bay, bursting forth untold volumes of boulders between the size of busses and bungalows, casting down a violent cascade of concrete offices that once overlooked the sound.

Within seconds, the collapsing cliff crashed into the clambering Shoal of Mermen, sending thousands, perhaps tens of thousands skittering into the dark, not only shedding the cliffside of its parasitic climbers but drastically narrowing the shipping canal.

When finally the map blinked back, a winded Kawhena saw that the moment was ripe, and there would not be another opportunity to crowd so much confused fodder in one place.

"Signal Magus Bai," he informed his aides. "Our militia needs time to adjust to the slaughter, and we need a moment of respite to replenish mana and catch our breath."

"Aye, Magister!" his aide Messaged the militia below at once to clear the waterline.

Across the bay, a signal flare blossomed over the cloudy water, casting a hundred thousand shadows over the half-submerged Mermen awaiting their turn to feast.

Kawhena's eyes turned northward toward Somes island.

The burden now rested on the shoulder of Magus Yue Bai—the rising star of Sydney.

Word had it from Auckland that Alesia de Botton's only advantage on the girl was being hand-reared by Henry Kilroy himself, while Bai was a student of his students. However, with access to near-unlimited resources and the gift of a Nightmare Spirit, her prowess arguably exceeded the humble Scarlet Sorceress when she was just twenty.

Now, Kawhena bore witness to the validity of those rumours.

Ignited by the flare, a riotous Mandela bloomed like a crimson lotus, illuminating the dark bay with the eerie glare of a blood-soaked moon.

The assault on Wellington's shores ceased at once, for no creature whose ancestors once hailed from a domain of water could withstand the terrifying allure of cataclysmic Elemental Fire coalescing overhead.

As the first Mandela wilted, a second came into being, more complex than the first, joined midway by a third, shedding squalls of fireflies, tearing the Prime Material to make way for the incoming catastrophe. To a learned scholar like Kawhena, each signalled the expenditure of a Creature Core Wellington could not afford and would never have the opportunity to stockpile, speaking of the generosity of the Master of Sydney.

Below the strategic sorcery, Marid Wave Witches launched themselves from the quicksilver water, willing into being spontaneous water sprouts with the width of semi-trailers. Others Magical Monsters likewise turned their watery talents toward the radiant sunset, hoping to extinguish its caster.

Most fell short.

And those that reached were dashed by shields of stone or transposed elsewhere.

Such was the advantage of Humanity as beings of elemental balance weaned on land, water and air. Comparatively, for most of the denizens of the deep, air was murder, and walking without buoyancy was pain itself—meaning they had no means to access the logistics of trajectory in a place without water.

A dozen breathes later, a fourth Mandala appeared, instantly evaporating every ounce of moisture within a half-kilometre of the caster.

"Remind the men to shield up," Kawhena reiterated the order. "Looks like Magus De Botton isn't one to mince words…"

The final Mandala faded.

Flashes of scarlet lightning abruptly dashed across the moonless sky, followed by a crashing deluge of rolling thunder so close that WETA shivered on its foundations.

A tail appeared from a crack in the heavens, showing the initial formation of a flaming tornado at least twice the size of the water sprouts willed into being by the Marids. As the column descended, Kawhena could sense the Elemental Water thinning rapidly, causing the Mermen to experience a sudden and inexplicable existential despair.

Without hesitation, the Wave Witches fled.

They could have countered the spell if they worked together—but nonetheless chose to abandon their allies.

Kawhena quickly adjusted his expectations. As unified as the Shoal might look, it was never anything more than a coalition. A Wave Witch occupied the stratum of priests, with limited numbers and immense powers constrained to their watery domains. A dead witch would be reduced to the Essence of elemental energy, wasting centuries of work. In juxtaposition, Mermen shock troops pushing forward the original indigenous inhabitants were no more significant to a Mer-Kingdom than the Mudskippers. If given enough feed, entire legions could be spawned and armed within a decade, making the loss of even ten thousand Crustacean soldiers merely a matter of inconvenience.

With the unimpeded progress of Magus Bai's spell, a temporary Fire Sea rapidly began to form as multiple tornadoes of swirling volatile Elemental Fire touched down in the bay, heating the waters below and setting fire to abandoned portions of the coast.

Within minutes, the rapidly retreating Mermen had trapped themselves against their fellow invaders, damming the receding tide of bodies panicking against the howling firestorm.

"Shape Earth—" Kawhena hardened his heart and collapsed the Fortifications at Hind's Point, allowing a second landslide to flow down and encircle the Mermen invaders, wholly trapping the bulk of the invaders within the bubbling bay.

From WETA's top floor, he coldly observed that Wellington's foes were being cooked, that their dark chitin was turning red as their bodies popped and cracked, growing inert even as frantic limbs clambered over friends and allies.

But they would find no solace in the bay, for the deepest water lay closest to the port, and there the barrier wards and the militia with their electrified Wands was the most numerous.

"Is… is it over?" One of Kawhena's Apprentices, his brow rich with excited sweat, asked with eyes begging for hope. "Have we won?"

Kawhena could only discard his heartbreak as he gazed upon his group of youthful Maguses too used to the decade of relative peace.

"The first wave is over," Kawhena confessed with a wry smile. "Here is where our battle starts."

Even for Tandy, a creature that had once ruled a domain within the Plane of Fire, the four-layer Rite of Elemental Invocation was too much.

While Jonas exorcised the Elemental Ash from her body, she panted and huffed, hoovering loose motes of Elemental Fire inundating the air, hoping to rapidly restore her Spirit before the Mermen returned with a vengeance.

"I should ask Master Gunther for more Creature Cores," she spat, her spittle pink and viscous. "That was fucking awesome."

"So awesome you almost went the way of Alesia," Jonas complained. "Why am I even healing you? I thought bullshit like this was behind me now."

"Nah, I reckon you love it." Yue protested protrusively, punishing her tank top's limits, causing Jonas to retract his protests with a series of rapid stutters. Unlike her peers, she was unarmored for the sake of the Ta moko adorning her exposed skin, which needed open air to absorb the ambient Elemental energies.

"Ma'am," Billy dimmed his Arcane Eye as he faced her. "They're regrouping past Red Rocks, about two kilometres out from the headland."

"How's the bay?"

"Magister Kawhena has enclosed the inlet. He's fusing Hind and Breaker Hill as we speak."

"Good man." Yue smacked her lips. "That'll give them time to clean up."

Billy's eyes swept the flaming bay. "This place is going to stink like bad soup very quickly. Wellington will have to pay for major purification rites."

"Better than losing the port." Yue shrugged, evaporating beads of sweat from the glowing Ta moko on her neck and shoulders. "Alright, let's land for the moment and rest up. Jonas, Taj, Paul—help the locals. Billy and I will take up spotting over at Ataturk."

"Yes, Ma'am!" The men obeyed as instructed.

Yue lowered her eyes toward the turbulent, glowing bay as she descended, her nostrils taking in the sharp stench of misto de mare simmering below.

Her spell was fading, and the survivors who had hidden beneath the bodies of their mates were now emerging from the floating carcasses like ghoulish Undead, clambering over scarlet shells and snapped limbs to avoid the still hot but non-lethal water.

A few of them made clicking hurrahs.

A few others howled and hooted, waving their limbs like gleeful schoolboys from Sydney High on a hilarious holiday to the Green Zones.

As a Battle Mage, Yue felt strange respectful toward these viscous Mermen, who were, in her eyes, murderers, looters and invaders of the first degree. Yet, they were so adorably innocent and simple, these monsters who would eat their kind without judgement to survive, including the spawn of their rivals. For the Mermen, death was merely a lull in the monotony of enduring a merciless food chain, and therefore any chance at murdering land mammals was seen as generous, hearty, and whole-souled fun.

And they would not retreat—unlike Humanity, there was no return to prose-filled Halcyon days of peace and respite for the sea-folk, whose every day consisted of surviving the fish-eat-fish world of their Kingdoms, for whom the fight to consume another and grow strong was the only path forward.

"Billy," she commanded her second.

"Yes, Magus?"

"Mark those targets." Yue circulated Tandy's violent Essence, her Ta moko growing white-hot, then blue and ashen as her Nightmare awoke once more. "Get me close. I don't intend to waste mana on extended range Fireballs."