Dragon Mage 3 Chapter 7: Clearing the Air (Patreon)

369 days until the Arkon Shield falls

Over the next few hours, we explored the lair’s tunnel network. It was as much of a maze as the rest of the valley’s underground system. But Arneson and his people were already old hands at underground exploration, and they had no trouble mapping out the lair as we progressed.

And even though the tunnels’ winding and twisty nature still had me thoroughly confused, Daryl and Arneson’s decisions about which forks to take became more confident and less random as the day progressed.

The hours did not pass without incident, however.

On six separate instances, we encountered shadowcats. Mostly in ones, but twice in twos, and once we were even beset by a small pack of five. Despite everything, though, the party successively overcame each challenge—and without any loss of life.

To say we were growing more confident would not be far wrong, but no one had forgotten about the other human party, nor the lair boss that was undoubtedly lying in wait somewhere for us. And no one was foolish enough to believe it would be easy to overcome. But in the end, it was neither the lair boss nor the rival human party that forced us to stop.

“It’s getting late,” Tara said, bringing the column to a halt.

Arneson nodded. “It must be full night up top already.”

“We’ll have to break for the night,” Tara said, looking not to Arneson but to me for confirmation.

“I agree,” I said.

“Is it safe to camp out in the lair?” Daryl asked dubiously.

“We could always retreat to the Abyss and camp there,” Lance suggested.

Arneson shook his head. “We’ll lose hours trekking back and forth that way, and besides, I’m not sure the Abyss will be any safer.”

“Jamie?” Tara prompted.

“I agree with Arneson,” I said, surprising the other man. “It’ll be safer to camp in the lair, especially if we use one of the many cul-de-sacs we’ve passed. With only a single narrow opening to defend, it shouldn’t take much effort to secure our camp.”

Tara nodded decisively. “Let’s do that then.”

✵ ✵ ✵

With the scouts leading the way, we backtracked to one of the many dead-ends we’d discovered and began setting up our camp. While Tara and Arneson discussed the schedule for the night watch, I reviewed the Trials messages from the day’s efforts.

You have gained in experience and are now a level 79 Trainee. 

Ash has gained in experience and is now a level 48 lesser elemental. Ash’s Attributes have increased. Her willpower has reached level 10, her channeling level 18, and her spellpower level 15.

We’re growing, I thought in satisfaction. Despite the unexpectedness of the lair dive, the day had not passed in vain. Banishing the Trials alert, I advanced further down the corridor and set a life monitor ward about twenty yards from where the sentries would stand guard. 

“What spell is that?” Lance asked, using his magesight to study the spell weaves I was laying down with avid interest.

“Life monitor,” I replied. “It’ll warn me if anything living comes down the tunnel.” I paused. “I haven’t taught you this spell, have I?”

He shook his head. 

“I’ll do so after supper, then. With both of us warding the tunnel, it’s unlikely anything will get through without us noticing.”

“Thank you,” he replied as we strode back to join the others. “What else can you teach me?”

I made a face. “My repertoire of life and earth magic spells is quite small.” I rubbed my chin considerately. “But perhaps that is a lack I should try to fix tonight.”

His brows rose. “After today, you still have the energy to attempt spellcrafting? I’m bushed, not to mention my mana reserves are in the red.”

I threw him a wry look. “I’ve fought much less than you have today.”

He nodded. “Then, too, your mana reserves must be larger than mine.”

“Hmm, probably. But what makes you think so?”

“Your higher level, for one,” Lance replied. “You’ve invested heavily in the channeling Attribute, haven’t you?”

“I have,” I agreed.

Lance hesitated, then added, “But I suspect there is more to it than that.”

“Oh?” I asked, wondering where he was going with this.

The other mage took his time answering. “I’ve given the matter much thought.” Pausing for breath, he lowered his voice. “And I’ve come to the conclusion that you’ve been lying about your magic.”

Alarm shot through me, and I almost jerked to a halt, but somehow, I kept my face admirably blank and didn’t stop moving. “What makes you say that?” I asked carefully.

Laying a hand on my shoulder, Lance stopped me. “I’m not stupid, Jamie,” he said. Stepping closer, he lowered his voice even more. “The things you do with magic, I cannot. I’ve tried, you know—repeatedly, but no matter what I’ve attempted, I haven’t come close to replicating some of your spells.” He stared at me searchingly. “And that can mean only one thing.”

“Go on,” I said, not breaking away from his gaze. “Tell me what you think it means.”

“The conclusion is inescapable,” Lance said. “Your Magic is not really as meager as you want everyone to believe. It can’t be. I don’t know how you’ve done it, but somehow, you’ve masked your Potential.” He exhaled. “I think… I think your Magic Potential is higher than mine. Your Magic must be exceptional, or if not that, at least gifted. And if I’m right, it would explain a lot.”

“Like what?” I asked flatly.

“Like why the orc high shaman himself is after you,” he replied, undaunted by my tone. “Like why you’ve managed to spellcraft as many spells as you have. And like why your castings are so damn powerful.” He stared hard at me. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

I stared back, measuring his conviction, then sighed. “You’re not wrong.”

“I knew it!” Lance whispered fiercely, practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. He squeezed my shoulder. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

I didn’t think he would either. Lance had come a long way since he’d entered Overworld, and he was no longer the person he once was. No trace of envy colored his voice, and I was fairly certain I could trust him. “Who else knows or has guessed, do you think?”

Lance shrugged. “Honestly? I’d be surprised if the old lady doesn’t know.” His gaze jerked to the right. “Tara, I’m sure, suspects the truth as well, but she is less familiar with magic than me so there’s a chance maybe she doesn’t.”

I sighed again.

Lance patted my shoulder. “I understand why you’ve done whatever it is you’ve done to hide yourself. Hells, I even approve. And I’m glad, truly, that your Magic is as powerful as it is.”

I studied him curiously. You are? Why?”

He grinned suddenly. “Well, for one, it means I’m not quite the failure I was beginning to think I was. Man, let me tell you, it was hard watching you do the things you did and believing all along that your Potential was so much less than mine.” His grin broadened. “Now, I can feel better about my failures.”

“Gee, thanks,” I murmured, shaking my head ruefully. 

His expression turned somber. “But in all seriousness, there is more to it than that, Jamie. Thanks to you, we have a chance.” A fleeting smile crossed his face. “Thanks to you, we might just beat this bloody game.”

I sighed. Lance, I feared, was placing too much faith in me. He was not the only one, either. Jolin had intimated much the same. And even Tara had said something similar. Their hopes felt like a physical burden. It weighed on me and, if I was not careful, would crush me. But now was not the time to dwell on my responsibilities—or lack thereof. We had a lair to clear, and right now, focusing on that was more important. 

I tugged on Lance’s arm. “Enough talk. Let’s go eat.”

✵ ✵ ✵

Supper was an enjoyable affair. The scouts prepared a delicious meal, and the conversation was unrestrained. Unexpectedly, Arneson proved to be a pleasant dinner companion. While his knowledge of Overworld itself was limited, the lifelong soldier had led a storied life back on Earth and had tales aplenty to share. 

Lance’s revelation did not preoccupy me as much as I feared, either. 

And in hindsight, I realized that it should not have come as a surprise. Given the amount of time I’d spent in Sierra and around Jolin, Tara, Lance, and the others, it was inevitable, really, that someone would unearth my secrets—or some of them, anyway.

But despite my enjoyment of the meal, I broke away early from the others. Like I’d told Lance, I had some spellcrafting to attempt.

Claiming the quietest corner of the small cavern for myself, I sat down cross-legged and laid my staff across my knees. Right, where to begin? 

With life magic, I decided after a moment.

Lance and I both knew the lay hands spell. It was a great casting and, on its own, sufficed to heal all but the most grievous injuries. But the spell was not without flaws either. Lay hands worked on only a single target, and in Lance’s case, required direct contact between the caster and subject.

So, I mused, can I create a healing spell that isn’t directly touched-based and that can heal multiple targets?

Only one way to find out.

Closing my eyes, I opened my magesight and called forth my mana. It took me less than a second to create the spellform of lay hands in my mind. This was the starting point. 

Holding the casting steady in my mind and not letting the spell manifest, I inspected it minutely from all angles until I identified core weaves of the lay hands spell—the ones responsible for repairing damage. Once I had what I wanted, I discarded the unnecessary bits, leaving only the half-complete healing weave in mind.

Then, I called up a second spellform, that of freezing sphere. With this casting, I was less interested in its core weaves than the secondary ones—notably those weaves responsible for spreading the cold summoned by the spell in a five-foot bubble all around me. 

Isolating the spell section I wanted was infinitely harder this time around, though. Unlike the kernel of the lay hands spell, the weaves I wanted were not all conveniently bunched together in the center of the spellform. Instead, they were spread near-uniformly throughout the casting.

But I was undaunted and, working my way through the task spell strand by spell strand, I identified each weave I required and laboriously unentangled it from the rest of the spellform.

Finally, when I was done, I held two incomplete spell weaves in my mind—the kernel of the lay hands spell and the bubble spreader of the freezing sphere spell.

That’s step one complete.

I was not ready to combine the two sections, though.

The bubble of cold formed by freezing sphere was only ten feet in diameter—which was far too small an area of effect for a spell that I intended to heal nearby allies.

On to step two, then: growing the bubble.

Working carefully and letting my magic guide me, I expanded the bubble spreader weaves, stretching them outward one at a time. And bit by bit, the spellform grew before my eyes.

But it could not grow infinitely. 

Even as the casting’s weaves expanded out, the spell structure began to sag, and when it looked almost in danger of collapsing beneath its own weight, I stopped. Intuitively, I knew this was as big as I could make the bubble. 

It’ll have to do. 

It was time for the final step. Holding my breath in anticipation, I drew the two spell sections closer and connected the weaves together. As the last strands snapped into place, a new alert from the Trials unfurled in my mind.

You have spellcrafted a caster-only spell from the Discipline of life magic. The name assigned to this casting is regenerative aura. This spell creates a healing field around the caster that will slowly mend the wounds of the caster and any allies in the vicinity. Regenerative aura is a persistent spell that drains the caster’s mana while active. Its casting time is fast, and its rank is rare.

A grin broke out across my face. Regenerative aura was everything I intended it to be, and I was not at all surprised it was a rare ranked spell—only the second such that I had crafted. Its range was not perhaps as great as flared conduit—which extended as far as I could see—but at twenty yards in diameter, the healing field regenerative aura created was by no means small.

And best of all, the spell was wholly of the life magic Discipline. Lance and any other mage with life magic could use it without requiring access to dragon magic.

It’s perfect, I thought in satisfaction. 

I opened my eyes, eager to share the news of my creation with the other mage, but when I looked at where he and the others had been sitting in a circle, I found the area empty.

Where’d they go?

A soft snore broke the stillness. 

Glancing in the direction of the source, I spotted a sleeping form. And not only one. Except for me and the two sentries, the rest of the party was asleep, I realized. It must be late.

I sighed. Once again, I’d lost track of time while spellcrafting. Teaching Lance the spell would have to wait until morning, and it was time I found my own bed.

But first, I thought, let’s see if I can’t craft at least two more spells.