The Fusionist Book 5 -- Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Larek was barely holding it all together, and it took a great effort of will to keep his hands from shaking from nervousness. Ever since he’d made the decision to defend himself against the overbearing arrogance of the powerful Martial on the street, he felt like he was being swept away down a river of bluffs, lies, and misdirections, and it was all he could do to keep his head above water as the current carried him away.

The biggest problem was the sheer dichotomy of his thoughts as he impersonated an equally arrogant and powerful individual, because it was so at odds at who he was. Or at least, that was what he used to think, but the more he played the role of a mysterious and powerful stranger, the more it felt natural to him. Ordering people around was something he’d had very little experience with, and that was only lately while he had been in the underground tunnels of Lowenthal; however, the way the other Martials out in the refugee camp had jumped to follow his orders felt… right. More than that, he liked the feeling it gave him when people fulfilled his commands.

And it also scared him more than almost anything else. He could practically feel his heritage as a Gergasi rearing its ugly head up at what he was doing, and he wished more than anything to punch it in the face and shove it back down.

It was only the knowledge that Nedira was going to be safe and taken care while in Tarvada that he was able to push through, embracing this new side of him to benefit himself and her in the long run. He would end up getting the supplies he needed, and possibly even materials to build another Air Skimmer, whole Nedira would get what she needed to recover from his own stupid mistakes. In addition, if he was able to help the people of this city not starve to death and stay safer against the nearby Apertures and their monsters , then he considered the trade-off worth it.

Of course, that didn’t mean his efforts were going to be easy. The description of the events that led to the current situation in the city, as well as the apparent state of the Kingdom, was almost too much for Larek to handle, and he was half-tempted to simply turn around and run away. He had been wanting to return to the Kingdom for so long now that he couldn’t even imagine how much it had changed while he was gone, and things had fallen apart so badly that it seemed impossible to fix. Not that he had come back to fix things, of course, but he had been hoping that his being present might at least help save his family and friends from the monsters that came out of the many Apertures across the land.

But even that idea had been stalled once he discovered everything had broken down to the point where he couldn’t resupply without harming other people.

And now things got even more complicated when a group of Mages barged into the so-called “Provider’s Palace,” and from then conversation the lead female Mage had with Vanders, he could tell that the woman was at as powerful – at least politically – as the Martial sitting with him.

“Hello, Fendra. Sit down, if you would. We have a bit to discuss.”

That was an understatement, but now he knew the name of the Mage staring at him in shock. At first, he could see that her astonishment came from seeing (at least semi-clearly) the Fusions she noticed on his clothing, which told him that she was strong enough and familiar enough with Fusions to be able to somewhat identify them. Or to at least have an idea of how strong they were, if not know exactly what they did.

However, as he looked up into her eyes, he saw the confusion and anger bleed into them at a rapid rate, and he knew that her stats were high enough to pierce through his Perceptive Misdirection Fusion on his ring, which allowed her to see right through it to his real form underneath.

“Stop, Fendra,” he said quickly, as he sensed that she was about to cast something at him. The Mage had just begun to move, and by leaning into his Agility stat, he was able to observe a bit of her own Pattern Cohesion coming out to set up a spell pattern, so he needed to interrupt her before she did something that could end up hurting a lot of people.

Not from her spell, of course, but from what Larek might do in response to an attack.

“W-What? How—?”

“If you attack me, a lot of people could die. I’m not who you think I am.”

Standing tense as she stared at me, Larek could see the anger seething under the surface. It also didn’t take long for the other Mages behind her begin to suspect what was happening – or they were strong enough to break through his manipulating Fusion as well. This was what Nedira had warned him of, after all, as the Kingdom’s population – in particular the Nobles – were now aware of the Gergasi, and strong enough Mages could see through his Fusion and would likely only see his height as an indication of being a member of that race.

While they would be half-right, he didn’t think he’d be able to convince them that he was nothing like them. Unless he could actively use his Dominion magic on them, which at that point was basically an admission of guilt.

So, he had to try something else. Thinking at speeds he’d never really attempted before, Larek contemplated what he could do or say that could convince them. Unfortunately, there was only one thing he could think of that might work – and it was enough of the truth that he thought it could be successful. If it didn’t work, then there was going to be a lot of hurt feelings… and dead bodies that he didn’t want to contemplate. He wasn’t going to allow them to hurt him, or by extension Nedira, because of their misconceptions and was prepared to use everything at his disposal to prevent that from happening.

He didn’t think he would live though such a fight, but he would sure make whoever did live through it regret ever attacking him. He was done messing around with these people, these former members of the SIC, who had (for the most part) done nothing but treat him poorly. He was prepared to forget all of that for the sake of the people, as these former-SIC were at least trying to keep the people safe, even if they were going about it the wrong way. But if they refused to listen and blindly attacked him out of misplaced anger, he wouldn’t hold back.

“What are you doing, Fendra?” Vanders asked, standing up and knocking his chair over in the process. “You don’t have any idea—”

“It’s you who doesn’t have any idea what this person is!” the Mage practically spat out. “You’ve been deceived, Van; he’s one of them—”

“I’m not,” Larek said quickly and loudly, cutting her off.

“What are you talking about? One of who?”

Before she could answer and get even more worked up, Larek cut in. “She thinks I’m a Gergasi, one of the Noble’s ‘Great Ones’. I’m not; I’m simply taller than most people.”

“You’re not that tall—” Vanders responded, but cut off as soon as Larek deactivated his Perceptive Misdirection Fusion.

“W-What?”

The enraged Mage pointed at him. “See! I told you! He was using some sort of effect to disguise himself! You’re one of them! A Gerg—”

“Don’t you dare call me that!” Larek roared, standing up to his full height, which made more than a few of those in the room flinch back. “I’ve had to put up with your blindly prejudiced views since I grew into my height, and I’m sick of it! Why was I disguised with a Fusion? Because of this issue right here, coming from someone who has no idea what they’re talking about? I’m tall, so that automatically makes me one of the Gergasi? Does that work both ways? You’re a woman, so does that automatically make you a bitch?”

Larek nearly said something a little less vulgar or controversial, but he was angry, and that translated into his speech. The Mage took a step back at the vehemence in his voice, but she quickly responded with matching anger.

“How dare you—!”

“I dare because I’m tired of having to disguise myself because you’re all blinded by your hatred! I hate the Gergasi just as much as you do, but did you even ask about that? No, you just assumed I was one of them because of my appearance – but you’re wrong. If you attack me because you think you’re justified in believing I’m one of them, then you’re going to be dead wrong. I may not be able to kill every single one of you before I die, but I sure as hell will attempt to take out as many of you as I can…

“…starting with you,” he finished, pointing at the Mage whose face had abruptly gone pale at his words. Or, more likely, her expression had transformed from one of anger to fear because of the sharp blade of the Pattern-made axe that was pressing gently up against her throat. “Do we have an understanding? Or would you like to test my patience for your ignorance?”

She swallowed a few times, staring at the glowing Pattern-made axe out of the corner of her eye. “Y-Yes, we have an understanding. I, uh, apologize for my assumption.” She didn’t exactly sound apologetic, but he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Larek absorbed his Pattern Cohesion from the axe as his mind shook from the mental fatigue of managing his anger in the way he did without losing control. The last thing he wanted was to give into it and have his Battle Arts activate, because while he’d been able to direct them a little bit while fighting against the Umbral Demons, he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to control himself when being confronted by dozens of Mages and Martials who wanted to kill him.

It was extremely heavy-handed of him to do what he just did, but he really didn’t see another option. The Mage, Fendra, didn’t seem to be willing to compromise and talk it out rationally; he could only assume that the Gergasi had done something heinous to her or her family at some point based on the reaction she had when she saw through his Fusion’s effects. Regardless of the reason, he had a feeling that the only way she would stop an attack on him would be through intimidation and a show of strength, both of which seemed to do the trick.

Even if such tactics made him sick to his stomach, as he felt it made him even more like his father’s people than he wished.

Pushing down the ill feeling that his words and actions generated, he put a smile on his face and a cheerful tone back in his voice. “Excellent! Now that we’ve gotten past all that, we can have a productive discussion. Come, sit down and tell me a little bit about what’s been done to feed the people here. Vanders was nice enough to tell me his viewpoint, but I’d love to hear yours.” Larek sat back down and glanced at the Martial, who reluctantly copied him after he stood his chair back up, watching the Combat Fusionist the entire time as if expecting an attack. It took a few more seconds before the Mage stiffly walked to the table and pulled out a chair for herself.

When she didn’t say anything, only stared at him silently, he sighed dramatically as he stared right back at her. “Look, like I told Vanders, I didn’t come here for any nefarious purposes. I’m just passing through and needed to resupply, but I couldn’t do that without harming the people here by taking what they obviously need to survive. I’m not here to hurt anyone, and I’m sure as hell not here to take over running this city. I have no interest in that kind of power, because as soon as I get what I need, I’m out of here. You can choose to accept my help or not; that’s up to you. I would appreciate it if you work with me, so that we can prevent as much death as possible, but I’m not going to force you to do it. I can probably figure out some supplies for myself and my companion if you decide you don’t want my help, even if it would be an extreme inconvenience, but that is your prerogative. And if you already have a plan for feeding all those starving refugees outside the walls, then I’ll leave and you never have to see me again.

“But if you do want my help, I can’t be watching my back every second of the day on the off-chance that you’ve changed your mind and think I deserve to die because I’m taller than you. I need you committed to helping me, which will help your people. That’s what being in the SIC entails, correct? I believe that Vanders said that you’re called ‘Providers’ here, yes? Then all I’m proposing is that you let me help you provide for the people, so that you don’t end up with thousands of people dying of starvation over the next few weeks, when you otherwise could’ve saved them.”

Silence fell over the room at his words. Out of the corner of his eye, Larek could visibly see that Vanders was already convinced, which meant that most – if not all – of the Martials were with him. However, he kept his gaze on Fendra, and he could see a range of conflicting emotions pass over her face in rapid succession as she struggled with what her innate prejudice was urging her to do, while at the same time thinking about what her duty to the people she protected required of her.

Eventually, after nearly a minute of silence, he could see the Mage visibly slump in place, the stiffness in her body replaced with resignation. He could tell right away that she wasn’t happy with the situation, and likely wouldn’t help all that much with what he was trying to do, but he had a feeling that she wouldn’t try and kill him. Or, at least, not until he proved that he was unable to actually help them; at that point, she probably wouldn’t hesitate to call her magical wrath down on him. Based on the light-red robe she wore, which was a color he’d never seen before on a Mage, he was sure that she was significantly strong enough that he wouldn’t even know what hit him.

As she reluctantly nodded, she asked, “How exactly are you going to help us?”

That was a good question, and it was the same one that Vanders had asked before the Mage and her entourage walked in. “I’m not entirely sure, but I’ll know more once I see the farm fields a little closer. I’d also appreciate a demonstration of what your Mages out there are doing to grow everything so quickly.” He already knew what they were doing, but he wasn’t sure of the how quite yet. They had either modified the Rapid Growth spell or were using a whole new one, and he needed that information. He already had an idea of what he could probably create as a Fusion to help, but he needed to be able to see it all in action to see all the logistics of the process.

What he wanted to do was take the existing system in place and make it better. He didn’t need to reinvent farming, after all, only to improve the process so that more food was created in less time and less reliance of the “Providers’. They had more important jobs, after all, which was to deal with the Apertures and the monsters within their territories. If he could remove the Mages and Martials from their need to provide food to the city’s people, which should be easy enough with a number of different Fusions in the hands of those same people, then the former-SIC members could “provide” the city and its people with the safety of secure nearby Apertures.

“I think we can do that,” Vanders said, his tone slightly confused.

“And you’ll leave after helping us?” Fendra abruptly asked. “You’re not going to ask for anything but some supplies for your journey?”

He was about to agree, but stopped himself.

“Well, there is one thing I want.”

The Mage leaned forward, pointing at him. “I knew it—”

“I need a new axe. A Logger’s axe, one that is used to fell trees.”

“An… axe? But that’s a tool, not a weapon. Why would you need—?”

“Because I lost my best friend, and I’ve been lost with them. You get me that axe, and we’ll see about feeding all these people. Sound like a plan?”

Fendra sat back, still looking suspicious, but she nodded along with Vanders.

“Alright, then. Let’s get started; there’s no time to waste.”