A Relatively Powerful Mage

Emelia paced back and forth, struggling to control her anxiety. The plan had been simple: Sylvi and Imri were supposed to scout the city for several hours and then return. At most, they should have been gone for a day. Two days had passed, and there was still no sign of them returning.

“He’s fine,” Zhaire said as he lounged on the ground nearby. While he was trying to be nice, he radiated annoyance.

“You don’t know that,” Emelia snapped back as she continued to pace. The big man just shrugged.

“Fine, then he’s dead, and we should move on,” he said callously. Emelia just glared at him.

“I hate this; I don’t know why I’m in charge of this whole group. All I want to do is go charging in there and bring them back.”

“Now that I can get on board with,” he said, moving to get up.

“I wasn’t being serious. As much as I want to, how would we even find them? They could be almost anywhere,” she pointed out.

“Don’t tempt me like that,” Zhaire said as he laid back down.

Emelia sighed and stopped pacing. She knew she couldn’t do anything but hated every second of it. What really scared her was her next thought: How long could they afford to wait in one spot? As if on cue, a shout went up from one of the sentries posted outside of camp. Before she could even consider what to do, Zhaire was up and sprinting towards the disturbance. She followed, though well behind the former pro athlete.

When she arrived, she was confronted with something she hadn’t expected. Five Chixel stood in view, but their weapons were stowed away on their belts with hands raised in the universal symbol of surrender. They were dressed in silk-like garb that reminded Emelia of a medieval lord. The presumed leader was also bedecked in jewelry, several rings, and a pendant held from a gold chain. Rightfully confused and terrified, the sentry gripped his knife so hard his hands trembled. Zhaire stood at the ready, his massive weapon in front of him, a desire for combat radiating from him. Fortunately, he showed the good sense to hesitate when the Chixel didn’t attack, but his killing intent terrified the Chixel.

Emelia focused on the Chixel, reading their emotions instead of being able to converse. While the most prevalent emotion was fear, Zhaire wasn’t the only cause of it. Instead, they had a fear of something else, something pursuing them. Zhaire actually caused them to be hopeful once the initial shock of seeing him wore off. Perhaps they thought he could help with their other source of fear? Either way, she didn’t sense any deceit or malice from the Chixel, a vast difference from what she had felt from the priest and acolyte. They were not here to hurt them but were instead seeking aid. Emelia did her best to put her feelings of mistrust and resentment to the side.

Emelia motioned for Zhaire to lower his blade, which he reluctantly did. This act produced a surge of excitement and hope from the Chixel. They started speaking in their strange hissing language. Emelia shook her head, unable to understand their communication. Only Imri could converse with them.

“What are you waiting for? Aren’t these the lizard creatures you and Imri were warning us about?” the sentry asked, still holding his dagger out, though the Chixel seemed unconcerned.

“They are, but I assume not every Chixel is on the same page. Just like not every person is the same. Maybe that first group were some religious fanatics, and these are peaceful Chixel,” Emelia pointed out. Zhaire seemed annoyed at having his hope for fighting squashed while the sentry was still on edge.

“They killed people, destroyed their souls, and you're just alright with that?” The sentry asked.

“I’m definitely not alright with that. I’m trusting my empathic skills, and it’s telling me these Chixel are different,” Emelia explained.

“But…” the man started to protest, but Emelia cut him off.

“If you don’t like it, then go back to camp. Zhaire and I will deal with this.”

“So, now what? We still can’t communicate,” Zhaire pointed out after the sentry had left. The five Chixel stood there, waiting for something.

“How are your charades skills?” Emelia asked. Zhaire just grunted in annoyance, obviously not a fan of the game.

As it turned out, neither of them was great at it, simply bewildering the confused Chixel. Emelia tried to act out the pyramid with the beam, but the Chixel just stared blankly.

Suddenly, the Chixel turned around, facing away from Emelia and Zhaire towards the forest where they had emerged, hissing in alarm and drawing their weapons. Moments later, more Chixel came into view, charging towards them with weapons drawn. Emelia cursed and stepped back, falling behind Zhaire, who once again had his sword ready.

The new arrivals stood out from their brethren. Garbed in sparse leathers that only covered vitals, they had long and slender weapons by human standards.

The battle between the two groups of Chixel was unlike anything Emelia had seen. The two groups fought in a fluid fighting style that was unlike the clumsy hacking at each other that was normally considered fighting. Each attack was careful and brief, none landing more than shallow cuts, but each moving rapidly. Their only weakness appeared to be their lack of power and unwillingness to take advantage of larger openings, content to land a shallow cut and dash back before a retaliatory strike could land.

Emelia and Zhaire were content as observers, though she was secretly cheering for the original group. She felt Zhaire’s frustration. He wanted to be in the thick of battle, showing the Chixel what an elite human could do. One foolish Chixel granted him his wish, breaking away from the battle with their brethren to strike at Zhaire. Zhaire grinned at the opportunity, rushing the last few meters to close the distance. The Chixel's shock and fear were apparent, having badly misjudged the size and speed of the large man. Zhaire didn’t bother with his sword; instead, he tackled the Chixel with far more grace and power than Imri had managed. The Chixel hit the ground hard, bones crunching audibly. The stunned and injured Chixel never had a chance to recover as Zhaire drew his knife and slit its throat.

Some of the remaining Chixel broke off from their original fight to avenge their fallen comrade. They were far more cautious than the first, not allowing Zhaire to tackle them quickly. This had also evened the odds in the fight among the Chixel, giving the defectors a momentary reprieve.

The two Chixel who had broken off approached Zhaire, careful to keep their ability to dodge in any direction. They jabbed with long spears with a narrow blade, scoring minor cuts on Zhaire before leaping away. Unfortunately, they still underestimated Zhaire’s speed. He took an explosive step forward and grabbed the leg of one of the retreating Chixel. Both of the Chixel stabbed at him, scoring deeper gashes, but Zhaire just grinned, bringing the dagger down into the chest of the grappled Chixel.

Zhaire, having now slain two Chixel in a short amount of time, stood and faced his third attacker, who now radiated terror. Emelia, not wanting to feel completely useless, focused on Zhaire and established a link with Shared Burden. Some of Zhaire’s wounds visibly disappeared and transferred to Emelia. Zhaire’s opponent didn’t notice Emelia gaining the injury but only saw a monster that could regenerate any wound inflicted on it. The terror it radiated now was stronger than any emotion Emelia had felt. It ran, shouting something that also caused the remaining Chixel to retreat.

The five Chixel, who seemed to be defectors or rebels of some kind, made hissing noises at the retreating Chixel. Emelia assumed they were insults or curses in their language. The group turned and looked at the fallen, then at Zhaire. They held the same emotion as before, both hope and fear, but far stronger than it had been. Then they looked at Emelia, the person whom Zhaire deferred to. Fear and uncertainty radiated, and Emelia realized they were equally afraid of her. She was unknown, and they assumed she was powerful.

“Should we gather the cores?” Zhaire asked, looking uncertainly at the five defectors who had various wounds of varying severity. Emelia had gotten over her squeamishness at using the cores of the fallen to empower herself, but she was uncertain how the defector would react to the mutilation of their kind. All doubt was removed when the defectors did that exact thing, efficiently extracting the cores and presenting them to Zhaire.

“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Emelia said.

“You want them?” Zhaire asked as he held them out to her.

“You earned them, are you sure? ” Emelia asked.

“I’m doing fine without them, and I got to level 5 from the fight. Besides, they feel like cheating. I want to win without any unfair advantage,” he said. Emelia didn’t argue, taking the two cores and absorbing them.

Quest Updated Progress

Class Rank Up F to E Heal others 67/250

Emelia Fields has reached Level 4 in Empathic Healer (1F)

Emelia Fields has reached Level 4 in Human (1F)

Primary Stats Gained New Value

+1 Constitution 108

Secondary Stats Gained

+1 HP 105

+1 FP 120

“Thanks. Should we continue charades or go back to the others?” Emelia asked.

“You're the boss,” he said with a shrug, smiling when he saw that response annoyed Emelia.

Emelia sighed, motioning for the Chixel to follow, hoping that the gesture was universal enough. The Chixel got the hint and followed a few meters behind, quietly conversing in their language.

Emelia was greeted by a cacophony of incoherent questions when she arrived at camp. The sentry had mentioned to the group that there were Chixel, though he had also expressed his feelings on them. Emelia felt a wide range of strong emotions, most negative, though a few radiated more curiosity. The bombardment of questions continued, with no time for Emelia to answer the previous questions.

“Enough!” Zhaire shouted, shooting angry glares at a few people who had been especially persistent. The camp quieted, though a few exchanged whispers before another glare from Zhaire shut them up.

“Yes, these lizard creatures are the ones known as Chixel,” Emelia explained. “However, these five had nothing to do with the temple Imri and I explored. Furthermore, we just fought a battle against Chixel. And yes, I am including these five. There is clearly more than one faction within the Chixel, just like there was more than one faction of people before the integration. How would you feel if all of humanity was judged if the first people other species met were terrorists?”

The last point seemed to hit home. Many nodded in agreement, though most were still wary of the five Chixel. Emelia didn’t blame them; she was wary, but she just didn’t want outright hostility if there was a diplomatic solution. Everyone was also put at ease when the defectors handed over their weapons without a fight. Emelia also posted a pair of guards to watch over them at all times.

“Do we move the camp? That's what Sylvi told us to do if they weren’t back within a day,” Zhaire pointed out.

“To hell with that, I’m not abandoning them,” she said without hesitation.

“Then what do we do?” Zhaire asked with undisguised annoyance, which was evident without her empathic abilities.

“Set up a watch near the edge of the city. Hopefully, we can figure out what’s keeping them without putting people in danger,” she said. She didn’t know when she would be able to give up, to assume they had passed away with no evidence but their absence. She just hoped Imri would return soon and make that decision irrelevant.