ALL NOVEL ARC 7-Cursed Fates-110-Lane
It sounded good. Too good. Lane wasn’t arrogant enough to think that he could make a difference in the world. Not even a hundred or a thousand of him. He knew better, but hope was an insidious creature. No defense could keep it from slipping into the chest and inflaming the mind. His good sense told him he was walking toward trouble, but he ignored it as he asked, “Is that what you’re doing here? Helping people?”
Deen winced. “Ah, no. This is…we’re not exactly thrilled to be dragged into this mess, but you know how it is in this city. It’s a lot harder to get anything done if you go against the guilds. Downright impossible for something like this. But we’re trying to turn it to our advantage. Use the crisis to spread awareness.”
“Something else you can’t tell me?”
“No, I’ll tell you.” The redhead sighed and Lane wondered if the color of the man’s hair was why he’d followed him to this meeting. Then he wondered if that was unhealthy. He figured it probably was. “How much do you know about, well, everything?”
Lane only knew what scraps he heard from Alyssa. “The guilds pissed off Victory and now we might all have to face an army of mad northmen.”
“Eh, that’s the gist of it.” Deen downed his drink. “You want another?”
“Here, take mine.”
“Thanks.” They swapped cups and he took a sip of the second drink before continuing. “Quest might have nice walls, but they’re just stone. The powers that be are assuming that they won’t stand up for more than a few minutes, given it doesn’t take that much power to blow man-sized holes through them. They also believe, rightly or wrongly, that they can muster a similar number of master casters. The problem then becomes the general forces.”
The other man shrugged. “Simple fact is, the average hunter doesn’t match up to the average northern knight. In fact, if the stories can be believed, they are greatly outclassed. Once the master casters decimate the city, it’ll come down to the armies and Quest will lose. Now, there’s no way we can close the skill gap in a matter of weeks or even months. What we can do is bolster our numbers. Imagine if every willing hunter or militiaman had an elemental of his same strength fighting at his side. Skill aside, the northern army would be drowned under the wave.”
“It’s a sound theory but isn’t that ambitious? I didn’t believe summoning to be so easy.”
“That’s just it. Summoning is that easy. Don’t get me wrong, the stronger and more intelligent elementals are a lot more picky about their contractors but there are plenty of low-intelligence creatures that are eager to be contracted for simple prices. And we’re going to prove it. That’s what tonight’s demonstration is about. We’re going to help one person, any person, that’s the whole point, form a contract.”
It was a crazy idea. If it worked, it would change the face of conflicts. And of magic. If elementals managed to deter a force like Victory, it would no longer matter what kind of casters a group had, but the number and strength of their elementals. Summoning and summoners would become a lot more valuable. None more than those with experience and/or powerful elementals.
Lane almost felt guilty for his doubt. Deen and his group truly had the potential to change the world. Of course, only if what he claimed was true. But if it was, he’d stumbled upon an incredible opportunity.
It was rare to find a profitable venture when it was just getting started. He could join this group, rise through the ranks, maybe make a difference. It would be something and he’d been wandering through life for so long, a goal was a very appealing thing.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, barely consciously acknowledged, was the thought that if this group did change the world and he was a part of it, maybe Alyssa wouldn’t see him as a little brother. Maybe she’d see him as something more.
Full of mixed motivations, Lane accepted Deen’s invitation to stay for the demonstration. He accompanied his new friend as the redhead worked the room, pitching the ideals of the Grand Summoners. A fitting name for the idealistic group. For the first time in days, he didn’t feel the urge to mute his thoughts with booze. He needed his mind clear to make a potentially life-altering choice.
But he never got to make it.
Deen disappeared for a few minutes before finding him again, wearing a giddy smile as he announced that the demonstration would be happening soon and Lane would have the dubious honor of meeting the leader of the Grand Summoners. His friend dragged him back to the refreshments table, insisting he grab something to drink and a snack, as the demonstration could take a while and he would make a terrible impression sneaking off for something to eat. He was waiting for his food when a loud crash startled him.
Years of training meant his arms shot up in a guard and his eyes glowed with his channeled mana before he knew what was going on. Many others mirrored him, all their eyes trained on the spot in the room where a part of the ceiling had fallen to the floor, light from the upper floor brightening the gloom.
Lane didn’t know what he expected to see when his eyes adjusted and the dust cleared. It certainly wasn’t Kierra Atainna in a scandalizing dress slowly standing up while brushing away the dust clinging to her. She smiled as her eyes scanned the room. “Not rats. Disappointing.”
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, or more likely a dagger, as she strolled into the crowd, the men and women making way for her as if she were riddled with plague. Lane didn’t know how to react. He didn’t think of the elf as a threat, would call her a friend or friendly acquaintance if asked, but the room’s atmosphere didn’t allow him to relax. The hunters were acting as if a dangerous beast prowled between them, ready to tear them apart at any moment if they made one wrong move.
“Oh, this is so bad,” Deen whispered.
“What? Why?”
The redhead looked at him with raised brows, one step from looking at him as if he were an idiot. “This is a gathering of the hunters that think we should be fighting the north. And that’s one of the north’s representatives in this conflict. At our secret meeting.”
Things clicked for Lane. The downside to their good intentions. The other shoe. The risk to what Deen tried very hard to paint as a risk-free situation.
The Grand Summoners had allied with the guilds against Lou and her house. He’d be their enemy.
He didn’t know much about the elf but he’d heard plenty. Worse, he hadn’t been so drunk he missed Lou’s demonstration. These people needed to rethink their plan. Unless they could contract an army of master casters, they didn’t have a chance in the Abyss of winning the impending fight. Saints witness, even that might not be enough.
A spell had shredded the noblewoman’s insides and she’d gotten back up in moments, without a single trace of magic or healing to explain it. She was a monster and if what he’d heard about her wife and elementals were true, so were they.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the woman herself dropped down, looking about the room in the same way as her wife, an amused smirk on her lips. “I don’t know, Kii,” she drawled as she stepped up alongside her wife. “Looks like a bunch of rat bastards to me. Honest gentlemen wouldn’t be mucking about in the dark with bad intentions. Or is someone going to tell me you all are discussing peace and prosperity for all?”
She raised her voice as she asked the question. No one answered and she laughed into the silence, raising a finger. “One chance. One chance for everyone to decide they love their lives and return to their homes safe and sound. One chance for you to realize that losing a few odds and ends isn’t the end of the world. One glorious, saintly chance for you all to not be idiots. Not that I think a single one of you is going to appreciate it.”
“Is she insane?” Deen hissed.
Lane shook his head. He understood how it looked. Two women threatening a room full of hunters had to look crazy. But his friend didn’t know these women. If he did, he wouldn’t be watching with wide eyes but would be joining Lane in searching for a way to disappear without drawing attention to themselves.
When the redhead stood staring for too long, Lane grabbed him by the arm and dragged him toward the wall, harshly shushing his attempts to speak. He held the other man in a dark corner and waited.
It didn’t take long. The tense silence was broken by a man shouting, “Fuck you and that long-eared bitch! You’re not taking our homes!” Then the first spell flew. An icicle launched with impressive force.
Lou batted it aside with a sigh. “That’s one idiot.”
Another man yelled, “Eat shit!” and the second spell flew. A ball of orange fire the size of her head.
The noblewoman didn’t do anything, the heat washing over her without effect. She looked right at the offender and shrugged off her jacket, throwing it behind her. Her thrall caught the garment, startling Lane as he hadn’t noticed her drop down. His stomach twisted in dread as he just as quickly lost sight of her again, losing track of her after he blinked. An insidious ability. If he hadn’t been completely sure the hunters were begging for a fight they couldn’t win, that would have convinced him.
“That’s two. The rest of you haven’t attacked so I’m hoping there’s a lot more of you with sense than without. Come on. Take your friends and your booze and walk away. Enjoy the rest of the night. Give the north what they want and get on with your lives.”
A woman ran out of the crowd. She didn’t yell like the men before her as she wielded a dagger, boldly attempting to stab the arrogant noblewoman. Her wrist was caught, then her other wrist as the female hunter pulled another dagger. Lou shoved her in the direction of Kierra, who backhanded her. The hunter crumpled, bleeding from her nose and lips.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Lou shrugged off the stares. “I don’t like seeing women hurt. When that can’t be avoided, I’d rather not hurt them myself. Though I don’t think I’m going to avoid it, am I? If three of you attacked, knowing what you know, I’m pretty sure the rest of you are going to try your luck. Aren’t you?”
A man Lane didn’t recognize stepped forward, his expression hard. He looked down at the fallen woman and firmed his resolve. “Hunters don’t back down from a fight. Not when our homes and our families are on the line. It may just be gold to you, Lady Tome, but it’s our legacies. The futures we’ve shed blood for. And no crazy northerner or foreigner will take them away.”
“We don’t have to take them when you throw them away.”
“You made a mistake coming here.”
“I highly doubt it.”
That’s when chaos broke out.
Deen screamed as the magic started flying, the sound mostly drowned out by the sounds of fighting. Lane tightened his grip on the cowering man, cursing as the walls shook and the floor was broken up. He grimaced as a shell of flame drained a fifth of his mana, a fairly advanced spell. Fire wasn’t a good affinity for defense, some argued it was outright the worst, which meant he had to pump a lot more mana into it for it to be any use. Even more as the shell had to cover two.
“Keep low and move fast,” he hissed. “Come on!”
When Deen hesitated, Lane pulled on him harder, forcing him to move. The shell wasn’t enough to protect them from everything. It handled the worst of the magic, but he still had to bring them to a stop when more of the ceiling fell and shove Deen to the ground when knives flew their way. His boots crushed bottles of wine and spilled food as he pulled them along the edge of the conflict. There was no way they could make it to the stairs, with all the hunters hurling spells from them so the women couldn’t escape, but if they were quick, they could get out the way Lou came in.
That’s what survival was about. Moving quickly and taking advantage of any opportunity. Alyssa had taught him that.
He wanted to see her. Damn his embarrassment and self-pity to the Abyss. That performance the night of the party wasn’t going to be the end of it. He wasn’t going to die and let years of memories get thrown out with the trash.
Spotting a chance, Lane dragged Deen with him as he sprinted for the hole, his friend no longer fighting him as he realized he was being saved. Lane pulled the man tight and set off an explosion at his feet as he jumped, the force easily allowing them to clear the distance to the next floor.
They landed hard, breaking apart as they rolled. Lane immediately popped to his feet, ignoring the pain in his legs, but there was no need for his caution. The room was empty. Deen relaxed but Lane pulled at him, yanking the man to his feet and ushering him out of the door. Only to come up short as they cleared it and took in the giant blaze in the distance.
“Saints! What’s going on?!” Deen cried, fear making his voice crack.
As they watched, a powerful stream of water doused one of the buildings, seemingly doing very little. At another building, the flames were gradually weakening, the effect clearly unnatural. It seemed someone, or more likely a group of someones, was trying to contain the fire but he still didn’t think it wise to go into the city.
“Now’s not the time to lose your nerve,” Lane told his friend as he pushed him toward the gate. There shouldn’t be anything nasty hanging near the walls and he’d rather risk being jumped by a manabeast or two than trying his luck in the chaos within the city. “You’re going to see a lot worse than this if you want to save the world.”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Lane fought not to scoff at the sentiment. When did things ever go how they were supposed to? He was supposed to be an accomplished caster by now. He was supposed to have wooed the woman of his dreams. “Forget about what’s supposed to be happening. Focus on what is and surviving the night. We’ll figure out the rest in the morning.”