Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (142/?)

The Township of Sips. Marsh’s Fishpond. Local Time 1500 Hours.

Thalmin

The cold hit me first — a hundred tiny daggers poking, jabbing, and pricking at the skin beneath my fur.

Then it was leypull, and the combined weight of both armor and soaked fur that dragged me down mercilessly into the depths.

Dread filled my shorebound heart as panic threatened to squeeze the air within my lungs out with a burst of reflexive shock.

But I defied it.

I resisted it… by embracing both discomforts, as the former kept my mind alert whilst the latter added much-needed speed to this race to the bottom.

I reached for Emberstride, gripping onto its hilt while I attempted to ignore the dark and murky depths of the unknown growing darker by the second. 

I broke through the fear of the unknown expanse by focusing instead wholly and unrelentingly on the figure just out of sight — the small, barely visible child that continued reaching, flailing, but ultimately failing to free themselves from the grasp of this most vexing of Nexian creatures.

Seconds ticked by as the Kelpie’s seaweed-like tendrils kept the child frustratingly just out of reach.

Then, it all changed.

SQUELCH!

We hit the swamp’s squishy bottom.

And I finally felt the firm grip of a smaller hand embracing my own.

At which point, the gates of infernium sprung open.

Strips of seaweed-like tendrils gripped both my wrists and ankles.

A coordinated attempt to bind both wrists and ankles together followed—

SNAP!

—but was seamlessly broken with a firm magic-aided tug.

I had to act quickly.

Without a second thought, I shifted Emberstride’s form to that of a humble prying knife.

From there, I urgently attempted to find purchase, an opening, or some give between the tendril’s vice grip and the child’s ensnared torso.

But I couldn’t find any.

The tendrils had somehow clung on skintight, preventing any prying or jimmying of the blade between the patches of seaweed and the elf’s torso.

There was only one way forward.

And I winced at the thought.

I stared urgently into the child’s eyes, but all I was met with were the same panicked expressions completely devoid of reason.

Just hang on. I attempted to convey through expression alone, as I channeled both purpose and command through to Emberstride’s form.

We’ll have to cut from the outside in. Stop when you feel flesh. Stop when you feel flesh. Stop when you feel flesh. I ordered tersely, bordering on pleading at this point, as I felt the blade making short work of the stretchy, rope-like texture of the tendrils.

There we go. Nice and easy, nice and easy. Keep going, girl. Stop when you feel—

FWOOSH!

I felt the rope-like texture give.

At which point, all I felt was that fur-raising sensation of a finely sharpened blade slicing through—

—flesh.

My heart stopped as I witnessed half of… something flying off of the kelpie and onto the silt and mud below.

Emotions… of all sorts threatened to overwhelm me.

But neither the Kelpie nor my limited air gave me the privilege of time to even think.

The creature bucked hard; its rear legs and tail which had held the child within its grasp, twitched and writhed with what looked to be pain.

I leaped back, turning to Emberstride as I uttered a simple mental command.

Fire.

FA-FWOOOOOSHHHHHHHH!

Darkness gave way to the blade’s flaming brightness, and through the bubbling and boiling water did I finally make out both creature and victim.

…

Or so I’d assumed.

Because under the clarity of light and a deeper palpation of the manastreams did I finally see it.

That was no child.

In the place of a torso was some sort of greenish-grey blob of slimy mimic-like flesh—

WOOOOOOOOSH!

I snapped rightwards, dodging the kelpie mid-thought by barely an inch.

It took the creature a second to right itself.

But that second was all I needed to grapple with the reality of the situation.

I’d been fooled, ensnared by bait from the other side of the water’s surface.

What was just seconds ago an acute sense of both guilt and shame faded away now. Replaced firmly by the shame of a fool, and the growing need for both air and a swift victory.

The latter would necessitate addressing the former.

But with precautions studied in my own time following the last waterborne attempt on my life, I came surprisingly prepared…

With a brief incantation and a disorientating sense of pressure growing around my nose and mouth, I forged what I’d hoped to have tested in less pressing situations — aquabreath.

It couldn’t have come at a better time too as the Kelpie surged forwards, dashing and then preemptively shifting paths, moving through water like a wraith, and disorienting me with tendril after tendril of kelp and seaweed that zipped and surged through the water with as much swiftness as the beast itself.

The Kelpie’s intent was clear. This was all a game of exhaustion and disorientation to it, as each dash of its form and each strike of a tendril stirred both silt and mud to obstruct any hope of sight.

This prompted me to shift to manasight. 

But by that point it was too late. 

The beast emerged out of the murky and muddy waters mere feet from me, slamming its front legs hard into my chestplate. 

I convulsed even with my chestplate absorbing most of the blow, sparks of its enchantment having been scraped away from the barbed hooves that ran against it. 

The force of the impact forced me to fall back against the muddy bed of the pond with an unceremonious THUD!

Gargle!

I let out the last of my air involuntarily.

Primal panic settled as instincts told me not to breathe in.

Flashes of another encounter, one bounded not by mud and silt but by marble and magic, suddenly crept into view.

My heart dropped as I struggled and fought against both instinct and memories gone rabid. 

For the briefest of moments, I almost saw him instead of the beast of a kelpie. 

calm. Calm! CALM! I cried internally… before my lungs eventually gave out. 

I sucked in a breath and drew in not water but air into my nose and mouth.

This… proved to be enough of a call to reality to pull me back to the moment. A renewed surge of confidence filled me following this development as I quickly picked myself back up, ‘dusting’ myself off with a burst of energizing magic, before quickly scouring the local manastreams for the troublesome creature.

The difficulty in doing so in its native habitat proved to be an obstacle.

But not too much of an obstacle, especially when it was poised for another, rather basic attack.

It was a mere animal after all. 

Magically gifted and clearly modified by the Life Archives, yes.

But it was an animal all the same. Which meant fighting it was a lot more straightforward than a battle with Ping or his followers.

“Let’s finish this.” I uttered audibly, garnering a series of bubble-filled snorts from the wild creature as it surged straight towards me.

I held my ground, arms and legs poised to propel myself through the murky depths as I felt the impact reverberate through my very core.

I could’ve very well boiled the creature to a crisp. Perhaps even decapitate it here and now with Emberstride by my side.

But a swift grip of its hilt, and a split second… hesitation… I sensed within Emberstride’s core gave me pause for thought.

No blood needed to be spilled today.

Especially not one of kindred spirits.

And so, I committed to another path. A more painful, dangerous, perhaps life-threatening path.

But a path that would address my needs amidst these developing circumstances.

I stared into its eyes as I grappled with the base of its kelp-crest, locking with it a gaze of determination set against a wild and irate beast that knew only destruction. 

“Submit.” I declared as I wrangled and pushed it forward with both the might of muscle and magically-aided motion alike, my legs kicking away the sharp-hooved attacks of the beast.

It was more difficult than I cared to admit, as the creature bucked and reared, before surging forwards once again with the unimaginable speed of a spearfish.

I was the one holding on now, as it pushed me desperately through the open waters, snapping its head this way and that, trying desperately to swing me off.

But I held on, tightening my grip, and doing everything in my power not to be flung into the endless murky abyss. 

With darkness above and below me, and the sound of rushing water whooshing past my ears, I struggled to do much beyond just holding on.

That was, until I eventually noticed a pattern.

It was swimming in a loop… ducking and weaving through holes in the netting that divided up the swamp into discrete cordoned off sections.

That revelation prompted me to hold on for just another loop, as I watched and observed both netting and path alike.

There it is… I grinned, noting a particularly straight path through four sections of lightly-enchanted netting.

All I needed was another pass, another straight follow-through of the same lap, and a perfectly timed strike at the four anchors holding these nets in place.

I counted down…

Five…

I tested the manafields for resistance.

Four…

I tugged at its presence, trying desperately to maintain the effort and willpower necessary to keep my aquabreath stable, while also preparing to target four, practically invisible anchors that felt impossibly far away.

Three…

I took a deep breath, struggling to hold on, struggling to maintain breath, and struggling to keep my concentration on the fast-approaching targets.

Two…

I paused, settling on telekinetics as this final tool for action, and moving my attention back to Emberstride. 

One…

NOW!

Clink!

Clink!

Clink!

Clink!

All four anchors were hit, and with it, the hundred-foot tall net came tumbling down on the both of us.

The kelpie attempted to dodge, but with the net spanning a massive breadth of the swamp, it simply could not outrun the falling wall of enchanted rope.

NEIEIIGHHHHHH!

I heard it struggling, as layer upon layer of rope began ensnaring and entangling its front and hind legs. 

I leaped out of the growing entanglement before I got caught in it too, as I watched in careful anticipation while the creature began its sharp descent — both literally and figuratively — into its inevitable ensnarement.

Every struggle for freedom resulted in the opposite, as every kick and every buck caused the already confusing lattice of ropes to bundle and bunch into tangles and knots which would’ve thrown even my puzzle-loving sister for a loop.

There was no escape.

Especially as the mild enchantments sapped the creature for its energy.

It wasn’t anywhere near enough to halt a kelpie, of course.

But its exhaustion from this encounter, coupled with the grievous injuries inflicted on it early on, meant that it was already fighting at half strength.

A quick look to the lazy schools of fish around me clued me in to what these enchantments were — wards of fatigue. Simple and long-lasting enchantments which did well to keep fish away from the edges of their small worlds.

I counted myself fortunate for the setting of this encounter. Even if it filled the back of my mind with a lingering dread I could not shake off.

Regardless, I found myself refocusing on my ‘catch’, as I swam down; Emberstride lighting the way towards a rabid and struggling Kelpie that maintained a slightly decreased vigor for escape.

SQUELCH!

It was here that I steeled my resolve for what was to come. My hands gripping Emberstride’s hilt tight, as I channeled a simple, but completely untested order to my former steed. 

Bridle and collar.

I felt no resistance from the soulstitched entity. Indeed, I felt something of an eager resolve compared to the earlier hesitation when I’d considered simply dispatching the Kelpie with blade and fire.

I hope this doesn’t dishonor your service, Emberstride… I channeled softly, neither a command nor order, but a simple sentiment of respect and reverence.

Kneeling down slowly to the feral yet exhausted creature, I began slowly by reaching for its mane. 

It reeled back, once again bucking, forcing me to anchor the improvised net that entangled it into the bed of the pond itself.

“Easy.” I spoke simply, my words muffled through the water, as I once more reached for its mane.

It didn’t reel back this time, sensing what was probably futility in its binds, as I managed to finally grip tightly onto its mane, before softly running my hand down and back down its nape.

This motion was repeated many, many more times, until the beast stopped kicking and bucking, and was left just softly squirming against the silt and mud of the marshy surface.

“I’m going to cut you loose now.” I spoke slowly. “Don’t try anything foolish.” 

There was no response other than what I imagined to be a deathly glare from one of its abyssal eyes. 

That didn’t stop me from slowly cutting it loose however, as I moved to position myself firmly and with uncompromising confidence upon its back. Once free, Emberstride quickly morphed into exactly what I needed, as my hands were quick to slide on and buckle the bridle that slipped effortlessly onto the front of the Kelpie’s snout, before wrapping around back to the nape of its neck.

The creature reared its front legs, higher and higher still in an effort to dislodge me.

It failed.

And once that reality settled in, a tense silence soon followed.

“Up.” I ordered, pulling hard on the bridle, only to elicit a deathly glare from in front of me.

FWOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHH!

=====

The Township of Sips. Marsh’s Fishpond. Local Time 1520 Hours.

Emma

This was too long… I thought to myself as I reeled the last batch of fishermen back to shore. 

Even with aquabreath, this was taking too long… My harried thoughts continued, as I desperately scanned the swamp for any signs of activity.

Sensor readings and the presence of water bubbles arising to the surface continuously was all the hints I had at Thalmin’s current condition. Indeed, as several buoys holding up the fish pond’s perimeter netting started sinking, I knew he was up to something big down there.

Which was all the more reason why I was desperate to help…

“EVI, please, run the ground analysis again. I know the suit might sink, but surely there’s some position we can get into to avoid—”

“Negative. Lakebed traversal not advised. Projected ground pressure exceeds substrate bearing capacity. All possible attempts will result in high-likelihood of immobilization.” 

“High likelihood still means there’s a slim chance we’ll succeed.” I countered.

“Acknowledged. Operator may also succeed at spontaneous flight. Probability curves are identical.” The EVI shot back. 

But before I could address its rebellious streak, something unexpected happened.

FWOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHH!

A jet of water shot out from the middle of the swamp, stirring both panic and alarm amidst the crowd that had gathered at the shore.

“MOVE, MOVE! EVERYONE, AWAY FROM THE POND!” The satyr and elf guardsmen yelled, as they attempted to corral any onlookers as best they could.

I instinctively moved for the moon gun, unholstering it and aiming at the head of the kelpie.

Until suddenly, I saw there was another head poking from behind it.

“AWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” A familiar, ecstatic voice emerged amidst the otherworldly neighing and demonic whinnying of the objectively evil-looking water-horse.

Yet in spite of its appearance, and the otherwise crazy look in its eyes, Thalmin seemed to be in control of its trajectory, as it ran up and down the surface of the swampy waters.

This… didn’t seem like a flex or a chance to show off either, as it was clear there was still some jockeying for power happening on the back of that horse.

[Subnautical traversal no longer required.] 

“THALMIN?!” I yelled, my gun still trained at the kelpie’s head. “DO I SHOOT OR—?”

“DON’T! I HAVE THIS! UNDER CONTROL!” The prince yelled out in between the kelpie’s attempts to buck him off, each one generating bursts and explosions of water that sprayed tree and onlooker alike. 

I didn’t take any chances however, as my arms remained poised and ready, my trigger-finger itching to dispatch the creature at any hint of full-on rebellion or danger to Thalmin.

Eventually, however, things started to calm down, as following successive bursts of mana radiation did I notice both the pace and the ferocity of the kelpie drawing closer and closer towards exhaustion.

It took a good ten minutes, and what would have been some intense arm-ache if it wasn’t for the actuators and compensators in my suit, but things eventually did come to an end as Thalmin brought the creature to shore, where it stood ominously above both the crowd and myself.

Nobody spoke.

In fact, many started scurrying away in complete and utter fear as it whinnied and neighed.

The silence was deafening, but what came after it made the buildup all the more palpable.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

Several kelp-like tendrils shot out of the defiant sea beast—

—only to be intercepted by just as many vines and roots from the trees and plants around it.

“MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY, ALL OF YOU!” Lord L’Sips’ voice cut through the cries and murmurs of the crowd, as he made way forward in a suit of full plate mail.

Eventually, the kelpie’s tendrils receded, and the various vines and roots proceeded to ensnare it, staking all four of its hooves down into the muddy and upturned dirt.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” The elf yelled, turning to face Thalmin, then me, before once again turning to the lupinor prince with a barely-contained fury.

“Well… you see, there was a Kelpie attack and—”

“I meant this current configuration, Cadet.” L’Sips rudely interrupted me, only to have Thalmin cut in just as soon as he’d finished reprimanding my attempts at clarification. 

“I’ve dealt with the Kelpie threat, Lord L’Sips.” He spoke regally, and with a natural confidence that Ilunor would struggle to match.

L’Sips took a moment to regard that explanation, his eyes scanning both beast and lupinor from head to tow several times over.

“Is that so?” The elf shot back with skepticism. 

“I see little other explanation as to how I am sat atop of it, and not churned to bits within it, Lord L’Sips.” Thalmin offered with an exasperated breath.

The pair entered a stare-off, doubt-ridden eyes coming to meet the lupinor’s exhausted yet defiant gaze.

“I suppose for such a valiant and heroic conquest, that you wouldn’t mind providing your signature once the paperwork is dealt with?” L’Sips finally spoke, pinching the bridge of his nose in the process.

“I suppose not.” Thalmin acknowledged.

“Right then, hop off that beast, and follow me to Town Hall. There’s a lot of paperwork to be filled out, and I doubt you lot have time with your quest and all that.” L’Sips reasoned, gesturing for both of us to follow as town guards filled the area, pushing onlookers and townsfolk out. 

“Clear the area! Clear the area! There’s nothing to see here folks! Go back to work, go back to your duties, tend to the distressed, and keep calm and carry on!” The satyr and elf guard-trainee duo shouted, doing their best to reset things back to the way they were before.

Meanwhile, I finally caught up to Thalmin, walking beside him as I elbowed his wet and drenched arm. “That was some good wrangling back there, Thalmin. I didn’t take you for a cowboy, but here we are!” 

“The sentiment goes both ways, Emma. As I for one, had not expected your web-weaving powers to have been so helpful in the evacuation of those in distress.” Thalmin replied with a tired smile.

“Yeah, well, the grapple is quite useful for more than just scaling walls I guess.” I shrugged while rubbing the back of my neck, garnering that same look of contemplative analysis from the lupinor.

“I see… You could say it’s… quite second nature, I assume?”

“Yeah, something like that. You gotta make do with what you have and such.” I shrugged.

Thalmin’s eyes seemed to yet again process that response with a certain cheekiness, but to what ends his web-weaving jokes went, I could not say.

We just about rounded the corner before something else quickly dawned on me, as both my eyes widened with a twinge of grim concern.

“Wait, Thalmin. What happened to the child?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you about it later, Emma.”

“What? Did it kill the child?”

“No, it didn’t kill the child!” The lupinor sighed, eliciting the curious and concerned gazes of the busy streets around us.

“Wait, what did he say?”

“Did he kill a child?”

“I think he said he killed a child!”

“NO!” Thalmin exclaimed, forcing even L’Sips to stop in his tracks now. “I DID NOT KILL A CHILD!”

=====

The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Lord Mayor’s Manor. Guest Wing. Puddlejumper’s Respite. Local Time 1540 Hours.

Inner Guard Captain Anoyaruous Frital

fwoooosh!

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The water was hot. So pleasantly so.

But neither steam nor heat could distract me from the happenings of the previous night. 

I stared at the wall of mosaics, the static pieces of colorful ceramic which remained deceptively still, frozen in place from whence the avatar of our study had met its timely demise.

I floated there, head just above water, as I met the unflinching red gaze of the harbinger of its destruction — the aptly titled Blue Knight, if Vanavan’s descriptors were to be used. 

A deep breath soon followed, as I regained control and sensation of both limb and torso alike — the return to the elvenform relieving the disgusting sensation of vorpal flesh against the purity of my elven spirit.

The act of warging was oh-so debased.

But such was the cost of acquiring that most exclusive of all commodities — intelligence.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Captain Frital? Do you require assistance?” The deferential voice of a squire called out, his tone sullied by a twinge of unnecessary worry.

“Carry on as you were.” I replied simply. “But bring me my books.” I quickly added, eliciting a  series of harried footsteps beyond the ornate and enchanted double doors.

Silence returned, and with it, came the worrying reality that arrived at the tip of a black and stubby barrel.

I stared at it, at the mosaics that preserved the scene to living memory in the various crystal shards I’d connected to the walls and springs.

My eyes narrowed at every contour of its profile, its sharp edges, and the smooth bore of a barrel that gently emerged from the square of its frame.

The design was tantalizingly alien, yet so unassuming for the destruction it wrought.

I dove back into the water, interlacing vorpal and elven memories as I filtered out the havenbrockian prince, the two peasant distractions, and everything else aside from the instances of that anomalous object.

My body floated, as did my mind, as my world and perception were both consumed by the manaless anomaly that was this anomalous weapon of unenchanted make.

I filtered through sight, then manasight, but eventually cursed both as neither held the fidelity nor detail necessary to extract anything but anecdotal inference.

I was left with an image, and a beast’s limited impression, of a weapon that for all intents and purposes should neither exist nor function.

“Captain?” I heard a voice echoing far in the distance, muffled by water and mindspace alike, the tether to reality forcing me to surface from the all-encompassing medium of my newfound fixation. 

Emerging from the water, I was met with the impeccable kneeling of my squire, his gaze averted as he held within his arms a collection of tomes, encyclopedias, and notebooks.

“Thank you, Ledwin.” I spoke softly, reaching up and grasping for my notebook, where I flicked through its pages until I arrived on the incomplete dossier of the Blue Knight of Elaseer. 

“Ledwin?”

“Yes, Captain?” 

“Have we more reports of the knightly pair?”

The squire moved swiftly to the tome of flares, his hands moving deftly across its deep and sunken surface through flare after flare of contacts.

“No, Captain.”

“A shame.” I sighed softly. “No matter. This has been a welcome distraction.” I spoke as I emerged from the pool, reaching for both towels and a robe handed deftly by Ledwin. “We have pertinent matters to tend to. Lord Lartia's estate demands closure, after all.”

“Indeed, Captain. But I have overheard the Mayor of Elaseer talking about more volunteers he wishes to send to the North Rythian forests to join in for the Amethyst Dragon hunt or some such.” 

“Irrelevant.” I acknowledged firmly. “Let the dragon hunters have their fun. I will have nothing to do with their escapades. Now… any word on the black robe’s apprentice?”

“None, Captain. Apprentice Larial has yet to have reported in.” 

“Acknowledged.” I moved swiftly to the double doors, yet my gaze remained locked onto the mosaic that slowly but surely melted back into its original configuration; the sights of my new fixation now existing solely within both the rooms’ shards, and one I’d stored safely in my robes.

“Ledwin.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Drain the pool and shatter all the shards.” I announced firmly.

“Yes, Captain.”