NOVEL NEXT Chapter 53 - That which makes all men tall
Mana. The foundation of power. The ebb and flow of the world, the foundation of all that was, is and will be. Since the dawn of mankind, before even the Highborn extended their guiding hands to man, magic was there. The only protection and weapon against the forces that sought to eradicate humanity, before mankind could find its place in the world.
Like all laws of nature, mana had its own set of rules. Rules that could be bent, ever so slightly, but never broken. To possess power is to know mana, to not only know its rules, but to understand them.
Prince Kargalan spent his whole life learning the ways of mana, becoming the first of his bloodline to break the curse placed upon them through his own mastery of magic. Elves, while being regarded as the blessed race, the race loved by mana, were not, according to Kargalan, true masters of the art of spell-weaving.
The amount of mana elves were born with was higher than in any other known race, and only rose higher as they grew older. With humans, such was not the case. Short-lived, most humans never attained more mana than what they were blessed with upon birth. Some, like his sister Kyara, grew more powerful through other means, of course, at a cost.
Kyara wasn't entirely human. Not anymore, at least. For no mortal man could ever wield the power of a dragon without being torn asunder by it from within. Whenever she used the dragon's soul, the beast's mana that was now her own would change her body to ensure it could withstand the burden of such power, which was unmeant for humans.
The more she used the power unrestrainedly, the more she risked assuming a form that could not be undone, losing her mind and becoming the very beast she and her husband slew to attain said power in the first place.
For Kargalan, this only confirmed his theory on the nature of humans and their relationship with mana. Be it too little or too much, the only path to mastering it was control.
Elves ran no risks when using their power without restraint, for they could achieve resonance through sheer force and quantities of mana that they possessed. There was little need for a gifted elf to learn the tune of his own mana in order to waste less of it when casting a spell.
Human mages, on the other hand, excelled at mana control, learning early on how to cast complex and powerful spells while wasting as little mana as possible to achieve resonance. While viewed by the elves as inferior due to their short lives and comparatively small amounts of mana, this was one field where humans stood unchallenged for half a millennium.
Yet, even those who devoted their entire lives to mastering the art of magic, be they man or elf, still couldn't hold a candle to the High Elves.
Those thoughts ran through Kargalan's head as trained in one of the many gardens that the palace had. He was angry, for his theories and achievements, built upon two decades of hard work and zealot-like dedication, now stood on shaky legs.
None by the Demon Lord, vanquished long before humanity ever rose, could harm or kill a Highborn. Yet the otherworlders, lowlier than even the lowest of commoners, who could face death from a blade or arrow, managed to.
Kargalan was angry because the tool with which he could finally rid his kingdom of Aurelia's influence, allowing the rulers of the land to make decisions without the need to consult the High Elf, wasn't his own power and mastery of magic, but a weapon from another world.
A weapon as common as a sword, capable of being wielded by any man and used with equal efficiency by them all.
Today's training session was a particularly gruelling one, the prince pushing himself as if wanting to prove to himself that his abilities still overshadowed the weapon that he commissioned old Yuliar to make.
Unlike most mages, Kargalan preferred being on the front lines during battles, regardless of whether his opponents were wild monsters or other people. Loving the use of a sword as much as magic, the prince spent many years developing a training regimen that would help him train his mana control even in the most chaotic situations.
While his open display of power during the sparring session with his sister a few days ago inspired awe in everyone who watched from afar, it wasn't what Kargalan considered training. In fact, he only sparred with Kyara when he knew she was extremely frustrated and under a lot of pressure, and needed something to distract her from the heavy responsibility of the crown she wore.
Kargalan closed his eyes as he stood inside a large red circle painted on the ground, focusing on feeling his mana and getting rid of the thoughts that distracted him. He was armed with nothing but a sword, and his clothes were no different from a commoner's in design, a stark difference from the usual long and flamboyant white robes with gold and red motifs.
Four royal mages circled the line on the ground, staves in hand, waiting for his command. In front of the prince stood a blood knight, no older than Kargalan himself, armed with a black blade but wearing no armour.
"Are you ready, Your Highness?" Miyato asked, gripping the handle of the blade tightly.
"Yes. Begin." Kargalan said, opening his eyes just as the young knight and all four mages attacked him simultaneously.
The prince activated his mana barrier, expanding its range until it sat perfectly on the line on the ground, blocking the spells that the mages sent forth. At the same time, with his sword, he blocked an overhead swing from Miyato, who quickly rushed the prince as soon as the command to begin was given.
The two men crossed swords aggressively, neither one giving the other any room for errors. Kargalan wasn't the most skilled of swordmen, but he could hold his own against the knight fairly well.
"Impressive, My Lord. Your footwork is ever improving!" Miyato exclaimed, going on the offensive even harder and pushing Kargalan back to the edge of the circle.
The rules of the exercise were simple, though not at all easy. Kargalan's training sword was made out of simple glass, and the prince continuously infused the blade with mana to have it maintain the strength and durability necessary to compete with his opponent's steel. At the same time, he kept the mana barrier raised to block the spells that the mages fired at him without pause or hesitation. Kargalan wasn't allowed to let the mana barrier move from the circle on the ground, meaning he had to maintain a steady flow of mana to it without expanding it or letting it shrink, as well as having to keep a constant flow of mana to his blade so it wouldn't break, all while fighting Miyato, who was strictly ordered to attack without holding back.
Kyara often voiced her disapproval of her brother's training method, calling it "unnecessarily brutal", but Kargalan didn't pay her any mind. This was how he liked to train, finding it the best way to ensure that even in the chaos of battle, his grasp on his mana wouldn't falter.
Miyato, the one whom Kargalan selected to be his sparring partner during every single training session, was hesitant at first. Swinging his sword at the member of the royal family, to whom he was fiercely loyal, didn't come easily. But by now, he had gotten used to it and fought the Queen's brother as if he truly was an enemy.
Swords clashed as the two men were at each other's throats, neither yielding to the other. Should the barrier falter or his sword break, Kargalan would be considered the loser of this duel. There we no rewards at stake, but the two men were keeping score, and so far, Kargalan was in the lead with three victories.
"Come now, Miyato. I haven't chosen you to dance with me!" taunted the prince.
The young knight merely smirked before disappearing from sight. Kargalan heard the sounds of movement from behind, turning just in time to parry the jab. Miyato, as soon as his attack didn't land, disappeared again, using the Step spell to dash across the makeshift ring and attack from all sides.
Kargalan quickly positioned himself in the centre of the circle, making sure that, while the knight could attack from all sides, he couldn't push him past the boundaries of the line on the ground. With each successful parry, he would turn around slowly, anticipating from which direction the next attack would come.
The mages still blasted the barrier with spells, following neither rhythm nor pattern so that Kargalan would have to keep the barrier at full strength at all times, unable to predict when the next hit would land.
"Getting tired, My Lord?" Miyato asked, panting slightly himself, as he ducked a swing from the prince's blade.
"That is something you can only wish for," Kargalan replied, trying to kick the man and make him lose balance.
The two men stopped attacking for a moment, only circling each other while they caught their breath. Out of the corner of his eye, Kargalan spotted something, a large figure in black, perched atop a nearby tree.
"Tayan?" The prince squinted, trying to get a better look at who it was. His lapse in attention was fully taken advantage of by Miyato.
The knight closed the distance between them in an instant, swatting the prince's blade aside with his own and hitting him in the stomach with the pommel.
Kargalan wheezed and doubled over, dropping both his blade and the mana barrier, while clutching his stomach. Miyato's victorious smirk disappeared in an instant, replaced by an "oh shit" expression.
"My Lord, forgive me. I thought you would block my strike." The knight ran his fingers through his hair, unsure of what to do next.
"It's fine." The prince groaned, taking a deep breath and trying to hold his lunch in.
"I should've focused on the task at hand."
"I… Shall we resume?" The knight asked, stopping his blade mid-sheath.
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"No." Kargalan straightened up.
"I have other matters to attend to. This will be all for today."
Miyato nodded, fully sheathed his blade and bowed before taking long and brisk steps in the direction of the door, the four royal mages not far behind him.
Kargalan tossed the glass sword in the snow and looked at the tree where he thought he saw the beast-folk man standing, but Tayan was no longer there.
"Yuliar must've finished it."
***
For many nights in a row, the moon hid behind snow clouds, depriving the land of its shine. It was hard to see without moonlight, something Kargalan was particularly thankful for this night.
The palace and the capital had eyes, ears and a proclivity for gossip. While the prince didn't mind the rumours spread by the maids and the townsfolk, about who had been seen sneaking out under the veil of night and who they went to meet, the rumours of him sneaking outside the city to meet with two mysterious figures out in the fields weren't something he wanted circling around. Not in these times of uncertainty and distrust, when such gossip would undoubtedly catch the ear of his sister and kindle her curiosity.
Kyara would never approve of Kargalan's actions. Her pride was even greater than his. In her mind, if something wasn't able to be done through the power she fought fiercely to acquire, then it simply meant it wasn't to be done by her at all. Breaking free from the High Elf's meddling in the kingdom's affairs was something Kyara did not even think to do, as she already knew it wasn't possible. Aurelia simply wasn't someone the Marbella royal family could get rid of for good.
The most their dynasty achieved in the seven centuries they ruled was to keep the High Elf out of the kingdom's internal affairs and conflicts. But any decision or move beyond that couldn't able to be realised without her first giving a nod of approval.
This illusion of freedom drove Kargalan up the wall. He hated the way things were ever since he grew old enough to understand them. Marbella kingdom, while allied with the Vatur elves as equals, often behaved more like a vassal state than an independent kingdom. Even now, in this upcoming war with the otherworlders, the Marbella kingdom acted according to the plans of another. Someone who wasn't its ruler, but was still too powerful to refuse.
While never under threat from a direct attack by the Great Mage, if they stepped on Aurelia's toes one time too many, the kingdom would suffer anything from various sanctions to losing the ability to use the portal gates.
"Not that those are even used nowadays, with the risk of the otherworlders pouring through the second a gate is activated." Kargalan thought as he made his way through the alleys, looking over his shoulder every few steps to make sure he wasn't being followed or spotted by the guards.
He knew the city well, which included all the old slips and passages that smugglers used to get in and out without being spotted by anyone. The duel and blow to the gut he received earlier that day actually worked in his favour. He acted as if he were unwell, letting the head maid know that he did not wish to be bothered by anyone until tomorrow, so he could sneak out unnoticed.
Kargalan was dressed more inconspicuously than even a beggar. Tattered clothes, unlaced boots, a cloak that looked like someone had reused an old curtain. Where he acquired the clothes from and what they were being used for besides tonight was a mystery unknown to all but him.
As soon as the wall was behind him, Kargalan picked up the pace. The meeting spot was in the fields, half an hour from the city walls on foot. He wondered how old Yuliar would manage to sneak past all the guards and nightowl townsfolk, given that mobility seemed to have abandoned the old artificer long before Kargalan even learned to walk. But then again, it was Yuliar himself who chose the meet-up spot.
With his hands in his pockets and posture slumped forward, the prince made haste across the fields, feet getting stuck in deep snow on every other step. As the snow stopped falling, Kargalan could see two figures in the distance, standing in an open field. Upon taking a second glance once he got closer, the prince realised it was Yuliar and a training dummy.
"Greetings, Your Highness." The old man croaked, a cloud of mist leaving his mouth with every word.
"Good to see you've made it past the guards, Yuliar," Kargalan said.
"Mind telling me how you managed to haul an entire training dummy out here?"
"I have had a helping pair of hands," Yuliar replied.
Without making a single sound, Tayan appeared. The beast-folk man surfaced from the weak shadow that the training dummy cast onto the ground. It took Kargalan all the strength he had not to jump at the sudden appearance of the panther-man.
"Quite the parlour trick."
Tayan said nothing.
The prince turned his attention back to Yuliar.
"We wouldn't be here if I didn't." The old man said with a wide grin that Kargalan could see even if most of his face was hidden under a large hood.
As Yuliar rummaged through his long robe and produced a simple-looking wooden box, big enough to fit a dagger, the clouds began to part, like the moon itself wished to see what was in it. The prince held his breath as the artificer turned the box towards him and opened it.
Inside was an Orc Vanquisher. A weapon most commonly used by the dwarves. The design, however, was noticeably altered. Kargalan compared it to the mental image of the blueprint that he gave to Yuliar, and could immediately tell that the artificer took certain liberties. The barrel wasn't as long nor was it as wide as it would've been on an Orc Vanquisher. The handle and grip were designed with human hands in mind, not the bulky and calloused hands of a dwarf. What caught the prince's eye the most was the small hatch on the barrel of the weapon, just near the handle.
In all honesty, Kargalan was somewhat disappointed. The weapon lacked both the aesthetic appeal of a dwarven tool and the terrifying, sleek appearance of the weapons otherworlders used. The prince couldn't help but wonder:
"Is this really a weapon that might harm Aurelia?"
"Show me how it works," Kargalan said.
Yuliar carefully took the gun out of the box, then pulled out a leather bag from his robe. He opened the hatch and slid a small paper cartridge inside the barrel before closing the hatch and lifting the firing pin that was on the side of the weapon. Then he took out yet another pouch, this one even smaller, and sprinkled no more than a single tap's worth of blackpowder onto a little notch also on the right side.
"Now the weapon is loaded. Would you like the honour of the first shot, Your Highness?"
"First shot? As in: 'You haven't tested it even once yet'?" Kargalan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Correct. The weapon has not been fired yet. I saved that honour just for you." Yuliar replied.
The prince was not too trusting of the weapon or the old man, fearing he might lose a few fingers or even a hand should the weapon misfire. He slowly shook his head and lied through his teeth.
"No. I need both hands to raise a proper mana barrier, so you will have the honour of the first shot. Unless perhaps Tayan would-"
Kargalan looked over at the beast-man, but the look on Tayan's face was answer enough.
"Very well. I just hope these old wrists can handle the recoil." Yuliar croaked while getting in position, raising the weapon and aiming it at the training dummy, both hands gripping the handle firmly.
The prince focused all of his on forming the strongest mana barrier possible around the training dummy, one that even his sister Kyara and her doramine blade would struggle to break through. He took a deep breath, looking over to Tayan for just a moment and then back at the dummy.
"Fire."
The gunshot echoed through the cold night. It wasn't followed by Yuliar's screams, so that was a good sign as far as Kargalan was concerned. Tayan removed his hands from his ears, something the prince did not fault him for, as the weapon was quite loud and his own ears were still slightly ringing. The old artificer placed the weapon back in its box, rubbing his wrists with trembling hands.
"Did it go through?"
"We're about to find out." Said the prince.
Kargalan undid the barrier and snapped his fingers, conjuring up a small flame that bathed the dummy in orange light. He approached it, inspecting it, and his eyes widened. The small metal ball indeed went through the flimsy leather armour and lodged itself in the dummy.
Without a word, the prince took a step back, the flame sputtering and fading from his left hand, while he reached into the box with his right. His fingers found the gun's grip and wrapped around it. Kargalan channelled his mana into the weapon, but felt nothing.
"This truly is made from their material." He thought as he took the gun out of the box and raised it towards the moon so he could see it better.
He still thought it ugly, feeling envy towards the weapon after seeing how easily it rendered his barrier useless. But the envy quickly faded, replaced by an unfamiliar sensation. Its weight felt familiar, the shape of its handle fitting his hand almost better than any sword he had ever held. Like a painter picking up a brush for the first time after decades with no inspiration. The weapon felt made for him alone, like it belonged in his grip, like his hands were always meant to hold it. It felt human in a way he couldn't describe.
Memories of Aurelia's bleeding hand and ear resurfaced, as if the gun itself was drawing them out, feeding off of them. Kargalan could see himself, clear as the night's sky, pointing the weapon at the High Elf, telling her she no longer gets the final world. It felt good, knowing that he now held a tool that could make that thought a reality.
But the thoughts did not end there. He envisioned himself going beyond words and standing his ground, to pulling the trigger and killing the Highborn. Her body falling lifelessly onto the throne room floor, blood pooling around her.
Kargalan snapped out of his daze, quickly putting the gun back in its box and shutting the lid. The moment he no longer held it, he felt his hands already yearning to embrace its grip again. He frowned.
"No. This is merely a last resort. A trump card when everything else fails. I will not throw aside my life only because I've been handed a quicker solution."
"My Lord?" Yuliar shook him by the shoulder.
"Yes, Yuliar, you've outdone yourself indeed." Kargalan turned towards the old man.
The artificer pointed in the direction of the city's eastern gate.
"No, My Lord. The gunshot. I think it's best we get to stepping."
Kargalan gave him a puzzled look.
"Pardon?"
The prince looked up, noticing the tell-tale glow of lanterns approaching from a distance. The gunshot must've travelled across the open field all the way to the city walls, given the lack of anything else that might've drowned out the sound. Kargalan grabbed the box with the gun and stashed it in his clothes, while Yuliar returned the bag with the ammo and pouch with blackpowder into his robes.
By that point, the sound of guards shouting mixed with the thudding of hooves as they approached fast. Kargalan, unable to think of any other way to get rid of the evidence, cast a small fire vortex spell on the training dummy, engulfing it in spinning flame, before turning to his left and pelting it across the field with Yuliar in tow.
Tayan was already long gone, sinking into the shadows, leaving the two men to their own devices.
"I shall meet you back at my chambers, My Lord!" The artificer shouted as the distance between him and the prince kept increasing, the old man unable to keep up.
Kargalan looked over his shoulder only to see Yuliar cast a levitation spell on himself and begin to rapidly ascend through the air, somehow steering himself in the direction of the city. The prince, now relieved of having to worry about Tayan or Yuliar getting caught, used the Step spell to outpace the guards and make his way back to the city unnoticed.