The Tears of Kas̆dael

"Easy, now, there's no need for this to turn into a fight."

Jasper doubted that was true, but if the mage wanted to talk rather than hit him with a blindside attack, he certainly wouldn't complain. He turned around slowly, keeping his hands in plain view of the mage, lest she get jumpy. If I can keep her talking, it'll give S̆ams̆ādur a chance to get in position.

He spied the corner of the durgu's head peeking out from beneath one of the overturned tables in the tavern's dining hall, but forced himself not to look at him, keeping his eyes trained on the mage instead. "That's a convenient thing to say after you already attacked us," he replied evenly.

As he finally got the chance to study her face, he decided she probably wasn't an elf after all. While her ears were pointy, there was a hint of roundness to them that Ihra's ears no longer possessed, nor did he see any sign of antlers peaking through her hair. They might have been still too small to be seen - Ihra had successfully hidden hers until recently - but Jasper figured it was more likely she was simply a Corsyth.

"Attacked?" She frowned, as if perplexed. "When did we attack you? Surely you can't claim that a simple illusion spell constituted an attack."

"I don't appreciate anyone meddling with my mind," he responded coldly, "But I think we both know I was referring to the abominations in the village you sicced on us. It was bad enough those poor folks had to die, but doing that to them?" He shook his head in disgust. "They didn't deserve that."

"I agree," the woman replied easily. "But we had nothing to do with that. We merely took advantage of the trap the stoneflesh mage had already planted."

Jasper wasn't sure if he believed her denial; it was easy to blame someone who could no longer deny the accusation, but it meshed with what he knew of the man. So as S̆ams̆ādur slithered out from behind his table and slowly crept toward her, he kept the conversation going. "And who's we?" he asked. "Are you working with the stoneflesh? Some secret cult? House Nurili loyalists?"

She tried to control herself, but her faint flinch at the last possibility told him he'd struck gold. It was the first accusation, though, that she denied. "We would never work with stoneflesh scum," she spat out. "As for the rest…" she hesitated, then shook her head. "You don't need to know who we are. The vision I gave you was true, though. Have a seat, steal an ale from the cellars, and when we leave, you and your friends can go on your way. There's no reason for a fight."

"Me and my friends," Jasper repeated. "Just curious, does that include Naklati?"

"She's not part of your party," the woman frowned.

"Maybe not," he shrugged, "but just between us, I don't think the Emperor will be too happy if I return without his wife. He's already suspicious enough of us as it is."

"She's not that usurper's wife," the mage in white snarled, before regaining her composure with visible effort.

Bingo, Jasper thought, certain now that the mage was affiliated with the former royal house, though that raised a host of new questions. He knew that Naklati's family were supporters of House Nurili, as were most of the northern provinces and the elven city states, but Ardul had told him that the latter had come to terms with Eligon for the sake of this campaign - their full support of their forces against the stoneflesh in exchange for stepping down from the throne once the threat was defeated. Are they doublecrossing him, or is this a case of the right hand not knowing what the left hand is doing?

"Lover, wife, mother of his child-" The last one wasn't true as far as he knew, but Jasper got the reaction he was looking for as her eyes tightened in outrage. "- not much of a difference," he finished with a smirk. "I don't know what you want from her, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't wish to go with you, so I'm afraid we do have cause to fight."

As he finished the sentence, S̆ams̆ādur launched himself forward, aiming the blunt side of his axe at the back of her head. The blow failed to connect, though, as the woman slid to the side and raised her hands with a weary sigh. "I'd hoped it wouldn't have to come to this, but since you insist…"

The world turned white as a star blossomed in her palms and, deftly avoiding another strike from the durgu, flung it toward Jasper. It moved faster than he could track, so fast that he wasn't sure it hadn't outright teleported, and slammed into his right shoulder.

The spell he'd been forming misfired as he was spun backward, and as the wave of white orbs exploded against the floor directly beneath his feet, Jasper was flung straight through the wall of the tavern hall and into its kitchen.

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Pots and pans rained down on him as he crashed into the abandoned hearth, and he lost control of his essence for a second time as several heavy cast-iron pans struck him on the head. Pushing aside the blinding pain, he staggered to his feet as the mage in white appeared in front of him.

"Soul-" Plaster and wood pelted them as she smacked his hand upward, redirecting the spell into the ceiling, while a star pooled in her other palm.

With no time left to cast another spell, Jasper did the only thing he could think of and tried to tackle her, but his tackle was about as successful as a pee-wee football team trying to take down an NFL linebacker. With a twist of her shoulders, he was sent careening into the ground, still clutching the front half of her robe.

There was a brief amount of respite as the mage looked down at her next exposed bosom, her face hidden beneath a mass of falling hair, and Jasper took the opportunity to scramble to his feet and race toward the hole in the wall, trying enough time to cast another spell.

He'd only made it a few steps, though, when the mage looked up, her face wreathed in fury. "You…pervert!"

"It was an accident!" He pleaded, throwing himself through the gap in the wall as she released a star of light three times the size she had used before. But the old wood and mortar might as well have been paper for all the good it did in stopping the glowing orb. Agonizing pain wracked his body as the star hit him dead on, melting and blistering his skin everywhere it touched.

He dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut as the orb dissipated, barely able to even move his flash-fried fingers as he tried to cast Circle of Forgiveness.

"This didn't have to be a fight," the woman snarled as she strode toward him, a ball of light quickly increasing in size in the palm of her hand. "But since-"

Her speech cut off abruptly, and with a pained grunt, she dropped to one knee as blood dripped from her nose and eyes, planting a hand against the ground as she struggled to rise. "I-"

This time, she failed to dodge as S̆ams̆ādur hammered his axe into the back of her head, still using the blunt side. "You know," he said casually as he walked over to Jasper, "when my horoscope told me I was going to save a damsel in distress today, I didn't think it meant you."

Jasper's bark of laughter turned into a gasp of pain as he flipped the durgu off with his touched fingers. "Ci-Circle of Forgiveness." It took a second cast before his skin looked skin again instead of, well, melted plastic, though the screaming in his now regrown nerves did not abate - the mind not having yet caught up to the body. Shoving the pain aside, he forced himself to his feet and staggered toward the stairs as S̆ams̆ādur hastily tied their captive up.

"Are they still up there?" he grunted as he reached the base of the stairs.

"Aye," the durgu replied. "There's two of 'em just as before, plus the lass. But Jasper," he looked up with a grimace. "I won't be much help. I poured every drop of my essence into the spike that took this 'un down. I'm all wrung out."

Damn it. It was terrible news, but if there was one good aspect about getting his ass kicked by the white mage, it was that she'd beat him down so swiftly he'd barely had a chance to cast a spell. "I guess it's up to me then," he replied, cracking a grin he really didn't feel as he took the first step up the stairs. "And since I did so well against one mage, I'm sure two won't be a problem," he muttered beneath his breath.

The stairs creaked noisily as he went up them, and Jasper held a spell at ready, frankly expecting the hall doors to fling open at any moment, but the upper floor remained curiously silent as he reached the top. There were twelve doors on the landing, all of them closed, but the faint tracks in the dusty floor showed him where to go.

Creeping to the threshold, he pressed his ear against the wall, hoping the sounds inside the room would give him some sense of the enemy's position. Curiously, though, he heard nothing but silence. A room dampening spell, or maybe an artifact like the one my uncle has?

With no information to go on, Jasper decided he couldn't afford to be stingy. He was always hesitant to cast Hand of Judgment, always afraid that there would be some moment of greater need for the spell he could only cast once a month, but Naklāti was the Emperor's consort. They'd already failed to prevent Dūr-Sūqerbettû's destruction; he couldn't imagine how Eligon would react if he let her die. He cast the spell.

As the air behind him warped and cracked, Jasper could only pray that the noise-dampening spell the mages were using went both ways. With a thunderous roar, the ceiling and floor collapsed as the vertical split expanded into a twelve-foot pillar of warped air, and cold rain beat down on his head. Then the crack widened as black talons pierced through the hole in reality and tore it asunder.

He had yet to use the spell since he'd upgraded it, but it was immediately apparent that the creature that stepped through was more than the old Ophan. Though the shape of its lower body was still vaguely humanoid, it was even more alien than before. Its skin was black as charcoal and just as rough, with clusters of unblinking eyes embedded across its arms and torso. Shadowy wings beat behind its back, each beat belching fire and smoke, and eternal flames danced across each of the twenty-four talons on its massive claws.

Yet, its body was the most normal part of the Ophanim. Like its predecessor, the creature had no head attached to its shoulder. Instead, three eyes floated above its stump, wreathed in flame and smoke, and constantly rotating in a triangular pattern. Even though it was his own summons, Jasper could not stop the little tingle of fear that ran down his spine as the creature stepped toward him, at least until it bowed its head and spoke. "Bēlī, what are your orders?"

It was time to rescue a princess.