Runeblade-Chapter 215B2 : Decompression

Kaius scrambled up the hill, battling against the scree slope as he used one hand to hold Ianmus secure to his shoulder. Loose stone gave way with every step, sending him a stride backwards for every one he climbed.

He wasn’t the only one having a rough go at it, Porkchop’s weight was working against him, making his journey to the lip of the valley even more arduous.

Shifting in his stupor, Ianmus let out a soft moan—though he did little else. Kaius frowned, concerned at his friend’s state.

Ever since he’d cast that spell—that ridiculous, all consuming, spell—he’d been out cold. When he and Porkchop had finished off the last of the boggling siege, Kaius had hoped that the man would wake quickly—so that they could flee, celebrate, and interrogate the mage for his idiocy.

They had no such luck—worse, once the fighting was done, he’d realised that Ianmus was pallid and blue. They’d slipped a health potion down his throat, one of their last, but as far as he could tell it’d done nothing.

There’d been nothing for it but to truss the man up like a hunted pig and haul him out of there as they fled. Even with all their bloodlust, neither he nor Porkchop had any interest in sticking around to investigate what had prevented the rest of the plague from attacking them in that cave.

Especially since it looked like the last boggarts had been more scared of what lay back the way they had come, than the two delvers who had just slaughtered what felt like two hundred of their kin.

At best, they’d been press ganged by the warchief, who was looping around to flank them. At worst, there was something more dangerous than them in those tunnels.

No, it was much better to flee—to recuperate, recharge, and investigate when they were fresh.

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With a grunt, Kaius hauled Ianmus’s limp body over the lip of the ridge, scrambling up after him.

Porkchop joined him shortly after.

“What’s the plan? Create some distance?” Porkchop asked, scanning the valley and hills for threats.

“Tent.” Kaius grunted, picking up Ianmus and slinging him over Porkchop’s back. “We have no idea how stable he is.”

His brother nodded, and they set off—dipping below the ridge line to avoid standing out against the sky. Moving from rocky outcroppings to shallow divots in the earth, Kaius scanned their surroundings, expecting something to jump out at them—for something to go wrong in the eleventh hour.

That’s how it went, right? Something always went wrong, in his experience.

Yet nothing did. They made it back to the secluded cluster of boulders that hid their tent. Seeing that small spire of illusory canvas and leather was the sweetest succour he had ever experienced.

A balm on his aching mind, a tonic for his weary soul. Tension rolled off his back, leaving him feeling heavy and tired.

Here, at least, they had some modicum of safety. Both he and Porkchop had taken care to lay false tracks, and obscure their true route to this spot. They’d even dipped through the small stream that ran through the valley—washing away the scent of blood and muck of battle. Even if they were stumbled upon, it would have to be hellish luck indeed for a boggling to decide to search between the boulders—and even if they did that, having the ability to pierce the illusion that hid their tent was almost an impossibility.

He pulled Ianmus from his brother’s back, dipping into the warmth and comfort of their living space before depositing the mage on the fur lined bed that took up one edge.

Porkchop pushed his way inside, standing beside him to watch the mage.

“What do we do?” Porkchop asked. “What even happened to him, for that matter.”

“I think it might be mana burn, but it looks a lot worse than normal.” Kaius replied.

Every other time Ianmus had expended enough mana at once to leave himself sickly and weak, Kaius had been able to see the natural mana around the half-elf’s body grow thin and hazy. Now, it was entirely absent—a disconcerting man shaped hole in the world.

At least at first—Kaius realised he could see the faintest sheen welling up from deep within Ianmus.

He sighed in relief, glad that there had been a positive development.

“I think he’s recovering—his mana’s returning.” Kaius said, turning to their discarded packs. Reaching into their dimensional storage, he retrieved his pan, a haunch of beef, and some pulped vegetable sauce he’d managed to pick up from a market—enough for a braise.

“May as well make sure he wakes up to hot food, it looks like he’ll need it.” he continued, sitting on the floor of the tent as he went about preparing their meal.

“Stew?” Porkchop asked enthusiastically, settling beside him as he eyed the ingredients.

“Close,” Kaius laughed. “But I think you’ll like it just as much.”

….

A few hours later, Kaius was just finishing up the final touches to a spell hymn when a desperate gasp cut into his internal world.

His heart quickened. Tightening his grip on his mana, he redoubled his efforts—weaving the final few runes he needed on a spindly array to finish his Stormlash inscription.

Mana pulsed through his pathways, locking the inscription into place, and sealing a portion of his pool inside of his glyph.

Snapping his eyes open, Kaius looked up to see Ianmus sitting bolt upright on the bed, a look of wonder on his face as he stared off into space.

“Ianmus! Are you alright!” Kaius called, leaping to his feet and rushing over. “You’ve been out for a couple hours.”

“Something smells delicious,” the mage mumbled, looking down towards the bubbling surface of their pan in the middle of the floor. A moment later he shook his head, eyes clearing as he looked around their tent in confusion.

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“The tent?” he asked, dazed. “What happened with the boggarts? Did we flee?”

Porkchop lumbered over, a warm rubble echoing through the space—loud enough that it would have put Kaius’s nerves on edge if he hadn’t already confirmed that no noise made in the dimension space would exit its boundary.

“In a sense. You were absorbed in your spell, so I'm unsure if you noticed, but the boggarts started to stem. After your attack there were barely a dozen left.” Porkchop replied, before he smacked Ianmus in the back of the head with a meaty paw. “Also, elfling, perhaps next time it would be best to ask us before you knock yourself out in a life or death situation.”

Ianmus went bright red. “Sorry! I truly didn’t expect that to happen—once the spell went off it just kept pulling deeper and deeper on my reserves, drained me utterly dry—mana and will both—on top of the extra exertion from my metamagic.”

“Well, whatever it was, it was effective—you cut what must have been forty bogglings in half.” Kaius replied. The spell had been an impressive display of violence for someone who had yet to reach their fourth class skill.

It reinforced his belief that Ianmus only had a Rare class by dint of lacking deeds and combat experience—he certainly had far more theoretical and practical casting knowledge than most mages far his senior would have. Even if it had drained him to the last drop and taken an aeon to channel, that guillotine of light had some oomph behind it, that was for sure.

“Once we’d cleaned up, we got out of there—no way were we sticking around to find out what happened to the rest of the bogglings.” Kaius continued.

“Bogglings?” Porkchop asked, turning to tilt his head at Kaius.

Kaius coughed, clearing his throat. “Oh, uh. I just started calling them that in my head—like goblinoids, I guess—felt weird to keep switching between boggart and bugbear.”

“As good a name as any—we might even get to make it official if we’re the first to discover the bugbears, though it would surprise me if we were. Even if they only appear in larger plagues, I doubt this is the only place they’ve been able to grow unchecked since the phase shift.” Ianmus said, nodding at the name.

Kaius waved the man off. “Forget ‘bogglings’, what I want to know is if it worked,” he leaned in, watching his friend closely. “Did you get it?”

A slow grin crept across Ianmus’s face, stretching from ear to ear. “I did—felt it reach the point of ignition right as the spell was cast. I haven’t checked the notification yet though.”

“Beaten by an elf, what a fucking travesty—the Matriarchs would be ashamed.” Porkchop whined, throwing himself to the floor dramatically.

Kaius rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics. He knew he wasn’t really disappointed—unlike himself, Porkchop wasn’t competitive at anything more than a little harmless fun. Besides, the oaf had already let slip that their extended fight had nearly been enough for him to ignite his own Corporus Aspect, much to Kaius’s delight.

If Ianmus also got an Honour for being in the first five, it would mean that Porkchop still had a chance—a pretty good one, in all likelihood. He doubted many other people were going to quite the extremes as they were—or doping themselves with potions that loosened the spirit from the body.

“Don’t leave us all waiting then. Ignite Mentis, we’ll keep you safe while you’re out.” Kaius said, turning back to Ianmus.

The mage grinned, and nodded—before his eyes went glassy.

A twitch was all the warning he got before Ianmus accepted his notifications, eyes rolling back into his head as he slumped back into the bed.

Kaius jumped, startled by the sudden change—as far as he was aware, he’d stayed conscious through the whole process.

“Calm down,” Porkchop told him, nudging him in the shoulder. “You did the same thing. He’ll be done in a few minutes, I promise.”

“You’re sure?” Kaius asked, watching Ianmus closely.

“I’m sure.”

Kaius still kept his attention on his friend, ready to do…something, if it went wrong. He was glad he did, when a moment later a soft glow started to emanate from Ianmus’s head—right in the centre.

Even with Truesight it was hazy and indistinct. Soft and pale, it almost looked like mana. Almost. Somehow he knew it was different, lacking the energy's cold impartiality.

Unfortunately, it was impossible to discern anything else—least of all because it was as small as a pinhead, only just noticeable due to the sheer difference it held to his senses.

“What’s that?” he asked, leaning in.

“What’s what?” Porkchop replied, tilting his head in confusion.

“You don’t see it?” Kaius replied, cocking his brow at his brother. “You have natural mana-sight, don’t you?”

“Kaius, I'm seeing nothing—if you’re seeing some form of energy, it’s invisible.”

Well, wasn’t that curious. Basic energy sense was an ability known to be native to all greater beasts. Though, he supposed it was no great surprise—Ianmus probably wasn’t able to see it either, otherwise one of them would have mentioned it when Kaius had gone through his own ignition.

“Strange—we’ll talk about it later though, Ianmus seems to be rousing.”

The half-elf’s eyes fluttered open less than a second later, a wide grin stretching across his face as he sat up and met Kaius’s eyes.

“You’re right—the Glass Mind is weird.”

Kaius laughed. “Almost feels like you grew a third arm, right?”

Ianmus nodded emphatically. “And you already know how to use it? Totally bizarre.”

“No need to rub it in, guys.” Porkchop huffed with faux offence. “Now, if you’re done bragging to each other, do you want to share what you got for your Seed? And if i’m still in the running for an Honour?”

Ianmus’s eyes unfocused, roving through the air as he read the description of his latest gains.

“Well, I got the Aspect of The Patient Weaver. My seed—Threads of Preparation—allows my Glass Mind to hasten channeling, independently manipulate and modify free-cast spells, and hold a spell prepared while I work on the next.” Ianmus replied, grinning wildly while he read off his status screen.

Kaius nodded, impressed. That was a significant boon by any standard—a mage who could do two separate things at once with their spell casting was almost hard to imagine, so much of what made freecasting a difficult style to make work was its demands on attention and mental capacity.

Still, there was one thing he still wanted to know.

“That’s fantastic—truly. But what of the Honour? Did you get one?”

Ianmus met his eyes, giving him a nod. “I did, though it only says I'm in the first five—not how many are left.”

Porkchop sighed in relief. “So there's still a chance. Thank the Matriarchs.”

“You’ll get it buddy, don’t you worry.” Kaius patted his brother on the shoulder.

“Now, we’ve got braised steaks to eat—I busted out the good stuff to celebrate. Who wants some?”

Scrambling in their haste, Ianmus and Porkchop collided, and ended up in a tangle of limbs on the floor.

Kaius laughed.