Sir Kahlin wakes me with a gentle shake. He's sipping from a nearly empty crystalline flask with a bright green bubbling liquid in it. His eyes are slightly crazed as if he’s pushed past some type of wall.
“Time to get up girly, we don’t wanna be late on your big day.”
I rub my eyes, letting the brightness from the sun slowly gather my senses. My head hurts and my mouth is especially dry. I fumble around trying to get my bearings.
“Woah there missy, I hope you’re not still shitfaced. It was a fun night, huh?”
Sluggishly, I pull myself to my feet and begin straightening out my rumpled clothes, wrinkled from a night of restless sleeping. I start combing my hair into something more presentable and ask in a gravely voice, “Water?”
Sir Kahlin passes me a full water skin, it’s immediately leaned far bag glugging sweet divine water into my parched mouth. I glance around and see most of the others are still out cold. Ruby is rolling around trying to reject the come of day, MM is nowhere to be seen.
Sir Kahlin puts a hand on my shoulder, “First hangover?”
“First time drinking… might be the last if it always feels this shitty”
He laugh, shaking his head, “I can’t believe that was your first drinks, you should’ve said something. I wouldn’t have gone so easy on you.”
“Do all knights drink as much as you do?”
“Eh, I was just thirsty. You’ll see me in action for real if we manage to garner a celebration from the Third Prince. Which uh, speaking of...” Sir Kahlin becomes visibly uncomfortable, scratching the back of his head. "Look kid, I need to extend this offer to you, right now. If you keep going forward, there won't be any turning back."
"I have no clue what the hells you're trying to say." I look at Sir Kahlin uncertainly. Is he trying to warn me about something?
Sir Kahlin takes a long breath, "I gauged how much potential you had, I've seen a lot of upstart wizards. I figured you'd be the perfect candidate for Prince Rythel to finally see, his ass needs to give up on the throne. Not because you're weak, because the other wizards are killers, real ones, they've massacred countless people in war. But, I see now, I was wrong. You're the ideal choice for the ultimate underdog story. But if you're really fighting, they'll kill you. I don't want that Jessica. I can't have that happen. So I want you to take Ruby and the rest and fuck off. As far as you can. MM can lead the way."
My eyes narrow, "What's going to happen if I run? Why exactly would all of us need to run?"
"Prince Rythel might be a transphobic prick. But he's the best shot you all have. We've known that. The Queen's known that. Rythel has to rely on you, the weakling has no choice. The other princes," Sir Kahlin looks away, a deep discomfort fills his eyes, "They blame MM and the existence of her and everyone like her for the weakening of the kingdom. It's total shit. They're just want a scapegoat. I know that now, but... I didn't always. People go to where the strength is Jessica. That's why you need to run. With magic, you all can easily pass, you won't even need to stop spellwork. Just lay low, live a long full life, always avoiding anyone who could out you."
A storm of anger pounds in my chest, "And what? Let this kingdom go in that direction? Not while I'm alive Sir Kahlin. I appreciate you trying to look out for me. But that isn't my path. We overcame Mother Death, twice. This is our moment. We can't run from it anymore, not since Ruby the Red Mage made us enemies of the entire world."
I get up and leave the stables, my thoughts a thick hazy cloud of rage. Sir Kahlin calls after me but I don't look back. I look for MM, I see her drawing symbols in the dirt. I pace up to her, "Have you known what's at stake?"
She looks up from her work and sees the fury, raw and alive on my face, "We don't have time for this Jessica. Besides, I always knew exactly what you were capable of and what type of decision a stubborn asshole like you would make." She ruffles my hair. The anger swirls out of me and I'm left with a sharp clarity.
My left hand goes into my pocket retrieving the 5 feathers. "What absolute fuckery are we going to come up with?"
An insidious smile forms on MM's face.
Flying through the clouds at incredible speed, between the gaps in my white foggy blindness I make out the royal castle and a rather green large army surrounding it. I haven't been notice yet and I capitalize, swooping downward with an intensity, a ravenous bloodlust I didn't know I had. While I may only know the basics, my fight with Mother Death sharpened my fangs. I can't exactly get out of this without getting my hands dirty, well actually probably bloody. Yeah no, definitely bloody, just hopefully this time it's not mostly my own blood.
As I surge downwards I comb over my river. It's surging with a greater force than I've ever felt. It just seems to get stronger as I get closer to the inevitable fight. I can see whiteness forming in the rapids, I'm ready to drown my fellow wizard in it, cast their bodies into a great torrent which will shatter them on the rocky embankment.
At once I can feel a surge in magic and I quickly jet myself sideways, instantly stopping my downward movement. A pillar of flame erupts where I once was, the heat of it tickling my skin and warming my desire to kill. I smile wickedly as I look to find the caster. He's an arrogant fool standing in the middle of the army, with a large gap between himself and the troops around him.
This gap is due to his own inabilities, not some type of formation choice. A true wizard would be able to be directly guarded by a full garrison of knights. But a true wizard would be able to project their magic several feet away from themselves. But not this one, he would roast the knights in their own armor if they stood close. His desire to cast complex magic outweighed his will to learn the fucking basics. He dies now due to that ill conceived notion. I have no pity to spare those willing to align themselves with predators who seek to sink their fangs into my neck.
I deactivate my flight magic and let gravity guide me towards the ground. I sense several other bolts of magic headed to intercept my fall, with one hand I dispel all 4 spells at once. 2 lightning bolts, 1 pure magic missile, 1 ice shard. They disintegrate into a glimmering shimmer that dances in the light causing the army to lose sight of me for a brief moment.
With my other hand I start creating my counterattack. Just before anyone can find me, I toss the nasty clump of magical missiles I twisted around each other directly at fire pillar asshole. He quickly forms a magical barrier once detecting the incoming threat, in the exact shape MM told me it would be in, a mass of rectangular walls all spaced out and angled with extreme mathematical precision. With a swift movement I unwind the cluster of missiles letting them each launch into their own directions. I have to time it perfectly for my strategy to work. The missiles ricochet off different barriers clattering against wall after wall before they neatly find their way into the middle of the formation, tearing into the wizard inside. Missiles stick out of his throat, lungs, stomach, and legs. He spits blood as he tried to maintain the barrier, his brainstem severed from his body. I'm already onto the next target, I'll need to kill at least 3 more and I have no time to waste on someone riddled with holes.
I can feel the eyes of many on me as I fly to the end of my mission, a group of 5 more novice wizards. Hundreds of crossbow bolts launch in my direction. Each knight armed with a miniature crossbow, a specialty of the 2nd prince, and they made quick work readying them. The commanders here are experts, but this in no way is the true strength of the second prince. I doubt the bastard is even here. I don't feel the presence of a single master wizard, and MM told me The Wizard of Ames is always by his side. But still, I need to be careful.
I glance towards the wizards, they are readying a shared spell to attack me with once I've fended off the crossbow bolts. Perfect. They expect me to do what any standard wizard would do. Even after seeing me tear through the kingdom's sacred barrier technique. How inflexible.
I raise both my hands, chanting,
"Oh winds, circle me and guide the bolts closing from every side"
I aim my hands toward the group, their eyes widening, spell incomplete. The summation of the aerial attack the knights fired upon me streams in their direction. 2 of them manage to raise circular bubble shields in time. The other 3 are made into living targets, their bodies riddled with dozens upon dozen of bolts in an instant.
Hm, I guess that's 4, time to-, my thought incomplete as I'm launched through the air, spiraling before slamming into the ground, skipping off 3 times before I push my feet out catching myself on the ground. Oh damn that cannot keep happening, it's pissing me the hells off. I smashed into many knights on my reenactment as a smooth flat rock skipping across a calm pond. Their armor is dented and many lie on the ground, groaning, clutching their battered bodies. I was able to wrap a tight barrier directly around myself just before collision, all they had was a variety of molded metal between a living catapult shot and their weak bodies. I brush the dirt off skirt and top, looking around me to see the knights have formed a large circle around me.
HOO RAH HOO RAH
They cry and yell, their war chant reverberating off the thick metal mass of armor, ringing in my ears. I see a large figure move through the crowd, pushing and shoving people aside. The shape finally eases into the circle, the knights now parting for them. They stand at a staggering 7 foot 3 inches, a blade the size of me being handled like it was weightless in their right hand. There's a large red gem sitting in the middle of the guard with several white gems cresting outwards on both sides. Some good blacksmithing.
The knights surrounding us wrap arms, encircling us, chanting and screaming. So this is their champion? How did they knock me out of the air like that? I never felt the slightest notion of a spell, it must be some type of innate ability.
In a deep bellowing voice, "I am Ruthkar the Great, Champion of Prince Leon." They point their blade toward me. "State your name."
Huh, I've never been treated this way before. Respect from the enemy. So, it's gone from people just yelling slurs at me, to people just straight up attempting to kidnap me, to this. Not too bad, Ruthkar the Great. I'll kill you painlessly. Well, at the very least I'll entertain this game, you might be too skilled for me to have any say in how you die. It's clear this isn't to my advantage; staying grounded. Whatever trick they did to knock me from the air won't work twice, not since they gained my full awareness. Truthfully, I like the attention but it will also be a good display to shatter the enemies unchecked confidence.
"Uh, my name is Jessica. I'm the new wizard for Prince, uh, Rythel."
Ruthkar the Great's eyes hone in on me. "I see, you must be one of those wizards." I cringe waiting for all respect to be lost, but instead a great smile bursts across their face, so wide, it can be clearly seen from underneath their masked helmet. "I've greatly longed to fight one of you, all young knights are raised to the stories of Ruby the Red Mage. But what my parents failed to teach me was fear. And so I've been left with a tremendous ache to feel the power that once devastated this land. Did you know all the natives of the land our kingdom sits on were wiped out in those bloody months? We are all newcomers, unbelonging together. Let's show these men what it means to be more than just the fables of the past." Ruthkar the Great raises their sword over their shoulder lowering into a battle stance.
I see now that I've been labeled, that many of the knights in the circle look at me with great fear or an even greater disgust. Fucking pathetic losers.
I look ahead, directly at Ruthkar the Great, letting the rest of the world fade into oblivion. We begin at the exact same moment, or should I say, Ruthkar takes a massive stride forward, closing 20 feet in a single step and my magic reacts in turn, flowing to a rushing fullness.
Ruthkar's blade is now directly behind them, nearly hidden by their massive stature. Another step and the gap is nothing, their sword swinging low into a wieldy uppercut the tip of the blade slashing through the ground before swishing through the air of where I once was.
My presence is calm, my mind clear. I can see their movements before they happen and we dance across the circle, blade swinging only to be avoided in the last moment, I'm like grass flowing in the breeze, letting Ruthkar's motions guide me to safety. After 6 full power slashes Ruthkar the Great stops, panting, "I see. You wish to neglect me unless I use my full capabilities. I respect your patience and I sincerely apologize for my own arrogance. I wished to test your skills, but I see the difference in our abilities is too vast for such trivialities. Your abilities for your youth is truly remarkable. Let's begin, for real this time." Imagine if I told them I cast my first spell barely a week ago. I'd get burned at the stake by these knights before whatever power-up this behemoth does finishes.
Well if they're getting to work, I might as well too. This fight will be finished after our next move.
I begin coiling dense magic into both of my hands, preparing to weave them together once Ruthkar charges. Ugh, this is gonna get bloody. I knew things had been too fucking clean.
Ruthkar the Great's massive red gem begins to glow, the white gems pulsing in a rhythmic pattern, there's a strong powerful magic wrapping itself around their body. More or less basic strengthing magic? Figures.
It begins and ends at once. Ruthkar the Great flies towards me, hoping to catch me before my spell can finish. But my spell is not building towards completion, like the spells of the wizards their used to fighting. No, my spell was ready to fire from the moment I started building it, the only thing each passing moment gives it is higher tensile strength. Which looking at the brute muscles rippling from the cracks in Ruthkar's armor, I'll need every bit possible.
The blade above my head is a blur, it's thrashing downward in a diagonal motion preparing to cut through my chest.
I finish muttering my incantation,
"Oh great river, I ask that you take what you must But leave both of us alive, in their path I trust To find a future friend, let our suffering begin"
We clash. My magic rips through the air, a large purple blade of missiles wrapped around one another slashes through Ruthkar's right arm and leg, sending their sword launching into the air and their body crumpling off balance. But just before the blade flies off they contort their body stretching out to snag the very end of their blade's hilt. Swinging downward with a greatly muted force, I find myself in great peril, for even in great weakness Ruthkar the Great will cleave my body in two. For I may have greatly maimed the enemy, in my leniency, I've left myself vulnerable.
I stick my left arm out and feel the great mighty blade cleave past it, sinking into my chest. I gasp and sputter, pain filling my body. Wrapping barrier spells around my collarbone I manage to stop the blade. I stagger backwards, twisting my body, managing to dislodge the blade before I kick off flying into the air just out of reach of the knights who've dishonorably drawn their swords to strike me down.
I hope that Ruthkar is still alive, I have a funny feeling we'll need their help.
I soar past the walls of the castle, landing in the courtyard, where I heal my wounds. I regenerate my hand and close up the large gash running deeply into my shoulder.
My river still has plenty of water. I feel good, I feel light. I feel ready to meet the transphobic bastard I'll need to whip into an ally to champion my cause.
A maid carrying laundry sees me and runs.