Ends of Magic

It was easy to sneak up on Azamar under cover of night. The walls were well-lit and patrolled by slave-soldiers, but their watchful eyes were the only things preventing Nathan and Aarl from walking right up to the walls.

With Nathan’s skills it was child’s play to evade detection. He’d expected Aarl to have problems being stealthy. But the [Relicwielder] demonstrated the other advantages of his class by activating some kind of camouflage in his armor that blurred his outline and helped Aarl blend into the shadows of the night. They reached the cover of a small depression fifty feet from the walls and crouched inside, waiting for their teammates to cause a distraction.

“Is that stealth on the armor new?” Nathan murmured, gesturing in the dark towards Aarl’s armor.

“Well, the armor’s old, and it’s had this talent the whole time,” replied Aarl with a hint of snark. “But my class has helped me learn many features of this armor. It can do many wondrous things.”

At that moment, magic flared from the north as Stella and Khachi crested the nearest hill. They were walking casually down the road from Giantsrest that led to the main gates of Azamar. But what drew the eyes was the shining golden magic that adorned Khachi and the layered panes of force magic spreading out from Stella like wings. A force of hundreds could have walked behind her and been invisible behind the display.

Nathan heard sounds of surprise from the defenders as all eyes turned towards their friends. He and Aarl broke cover, scampering up to the base of the walls. They crouched, ready to go up and over when the mages of Azamar decided to respond to Stella and Khachi’s provocation. Nathan was planning on using [Airwalk] to get atop the wall, and he watched as the metal of Aarl’s armor shifted and climbing spikes popped out of his hands and feet.

They didn’t have to wait long. A minute later there was a faint pop of somebody teleporting atop the wall, and Nathan tensed to jump. Beside him, Aarl started climbing the wall, the spikes providing excellent grip on even the enchanted stone of the wall. A detection spell swept outwards from the man, but Nathan blocked it easily.

Visibility Control 3 achieved!

A magically enhanced voice rang out across the night, angry and just a little despairing. “You cowardly muckgrabbers! The Academy is destroyed and now you come here to remove every speck of magic from this world? Well, show me your might, for I am the only defender of Azamar, but still I raise my fist against you! I know the strength of my hand does not compare to Badud's, but I will not allow you to destroy this city without challenge!”

Nathan bounded up into the air and popped over the wall, coming face-to-face with a short mage wearing an elaborately brocaded robe. The man squawked at Nathan’s sudden appearance as his [Mage Armor] shattered. He scrambled away, nearly falling onto his ass at the instinctive movement. Nathan followed him, grabbing the archmage by the collar and getting in his face. “Is that the truth?”

Superficially, it appeared so. Nathan didn’t feel any mana pools other than the enormous one belonging to the man in front of him. There were dozens of slave-soldiers atop the wall, but no elites. They had assembled their formation atop the wall and moved towards Nathan with spears forward. But Aarl bounded up beside him and drove the formations backwards with his array of weapons, slicing off speartips and sending blasts of force to push the shieldwall backwards.

Nathan refocused on his captive. “Where are the rest of the mages?”

The archmage in his grasp had gone pale as a sheet, much less sanguine about fighting now that he was face-to-face with Nathan. His mouth worked for a second before he swallowed and spoke slowly in a voice pitched higher than it had been previously. “I sent every fighting mage to Ardglass to defend against the undead siege. The Elites, too.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “The undead siege?”

The archmage of Azamar nodded jerkily, meeting Nathan’s eyes with resolve. “A dread-host emerged from the desert just days ago. With Archmage Declan and many of his war mages dead, Ardglass didn’t have enough defenders."

“Why didn’t you go? Surely an archmage could destroy such a threat.” Nathan replied, tilting his head as he judged the man in his grip.

A fire lit in the man’s eyes, defiant and self-righteous. “For the same reason I ignored Badud’s call to gather. The moment I leave this city, the woodfolk will slaughter everyone they can. They have marked me, and know that my presence means death to any who attack.” He grimaced, the flame dimming. “When you kill me, they will come. By the upraised palm of the giant, I ask you to stay and teach them that Azamar is not undefended. If you care for the slaves at all.” He said the last sentence with a hopelessness borne of long dissapointment.

Nathan’s brows drew down as he considered the archmage in front of him. He didn’t appear to be cut from the same cloth as the others Nathan had met. And - if he was telling the truth, killing him would cause more problems than it solved.

Then there’s this whole thing about an undead army besieging Ardglass. I’ve been fighting Giantsrest for long enough I almost forgot that Davrar is a deathworld. It's still possible all of this is a lie. But luckily, I have a way to find out.

He turned his head towards where his friends were still approaching the city. Their pace had picked up since Nathan and Aarl had gone up the wall. His voice boomed across the plains. “Khachi! Get up here!” A few short moments later the wolfman ascended to the top of the wall atop a formless glow.

Nathan didn’t release the archmage, but he shook him lightly as his friend landed next to him. “I need to know if he’s telling the truth.”

The rest of the Heirs arrived nearby, the fight for Azamar seemingly finished as nobody else appeared to fight them. The slave-soldiers had been chased back by Aarl’s weapons, and Stella raised walls of stone to block them off more permanently.

Khachi’s lip curled to reveal shining canines as he surveyed the archmage. Then his voice thundered, a divine echo overlaid atop it, “I charge you, a captive of righteous battle, to speak the truth! In the holy light, every lie will be revealed. By my own power, every misdirection will be met with righteous justice!”

Nathan hurriedly dropped the archmage, backing up to avoid interfering with the waves of divine magic washing over the man and illuminating him as if he stood in the middle of a dozen overlapping spotlights. His antimagic was primed to lash out if the man cast any spells, but the archmage didn’t seem agressive.

The archmage blinked, his mouth working at Khachi’s spell. Then he spoke. “Strange. That’s not a mental spell. It’s truly divine magic” He frowned. “I can lie, but this magic is warning me that it will not allow a lie to pass.” He was lost in thought as he looked around, trying to find the source of the lights. “What an honest form of magic.”

Nathan interrupted his train of thought. “What’s your name?”

“Hibril dho Bonaz,” came the absent reply. “Archmage of Azamar.”

“Are there other mages in this city?”

Hibril rolled his eyes as he refocused on Nathan. “The Giant spare me from foolish questions in my last moments. Of course! We have crafters here by the score. Most of the furniture and woodwork in Giantsrest is done in this city, made from trees in the great forest. But to answer your true question, I sent all of the mages loyal to me who can fight to Ardglass to aid in the defense of that city. That includes the fist of Azamar, War mage Usto dho Thrask.”

Nathan furrowed his brow, remembering the name.

Right. The war mage that Roni looked up to. He uses necromancy? Probably good to have against the undead.

“Will the woodland cults attack if you leave Azamar?”

The man’s mouth quirked. “That name is inaccurate. There are cults among the woodfolk, but they are not monolithic. But if I leave or die, they will attack the city, and slaughter all they can find until they are driven away.”

Nathan glanced at Khachi, whose gold-glowing eyes had remained fixed on the archmage. “All true?”

The wolfman nodded. “All true. He is… a righteous man.” The worlds appeared to pain the cleric, and Nathan frowned in response.

“How can he be righteous?” asked Stella, gesturing out over the city. It was a bit smaller than Halsmet, though still large enough for thousands of people inside the walls. The city was built around a deep cleft in the plains that Nathan couldn’t see the bottom of. “There are thousands of slaves living here, chattel to his desires.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Hibril dho Bonaz buffed up, indignant. “My charges are not abused, and they do not go hungry. It is my duty to guide them through life, that they may be spared the terrors of Davrar and contribute to the growth of civilization in this world.”

Khachi’s frown deepened. “A righteous justification, but a hollow one. What is civilization without free people to enjoy it? What is the purpose to slavery, beyond ensuring that power never leaves the hands of those who fit the collars?”

The archmage sagged slightly. He spoke quietly, the words meant for himself. “The Ascendent Academy has fallen, so why defend it?” He looked up at the Heirs, his voice small and lost. “What is left of civilization, now that the beacon of learning is gone? Do you fight just to tear it all down? What can replace Giantsrest?”

Nathan saw an opportunity and stepped forward, capturing Hibril’s attention as he did so. “There are ways other than slavery. A civilization where every person is free, where they all work together by choice and nature to lift each other up. In slavery you deny the gifts of every slave, you crush their passions, their proclivities. If you just let people be free, then they’ll astound you with their deeds.”

He gestured over Azamar, feeling his skill guide his words to be more polished, more profound. “Imagine if every slave inside this city worked with passion, to enrich themselves and their families. No person held back by chains or fear. Instead, they are driven by their own desires, their own dreams. They become inventors, artists, healers, and builders—not because they are forced to, but because they are inspired to. The society that nurtures freedom grows stronger and more vibrant than any built on oppression.”

The archmage looked vaguely sick. “Anarchy and chaos. Without masters, men will steal and kill. They won’t work, they’ll take. Not give.” It wasn’t a strong conviction, and the light that surrounded the man flashed a warning yellow. He looked down at it, and the disgust on his face redoubled. “It must be. Those are the words of the founders.”

Nathan shorted. “People need to feel safe. They need laws saying their neighbors can’t steal from them, and to believe in those laws. But Badud didn’t want the best society, he wanted mages who could conquer this continent. He didn’t want what was best for his people. But you can change that. You control this city. Will you continue to rule through mind control, or will you free your people and let it slip from your control, into freedom and prosperity?”

Inspiration 8 achieved!

Hibril’s back straightened. “Yes.” He let out a long breath, losing a planet’s worth of weight and stress from his shoulders as he did so. “That’s a worthy future.”

Stella spoke up warningly, cutting through the moment. “Nathan, he’s an archmage. Trusting him will only cause smoke and blood.”

“Anyone can change their Path.” Khachi broke in, though his gaze was heavy upon Hibril. “But you are an archmage of Giantsrest. You were a pillar supporting their deeds, including the enslavement of many. Can we trust you to truly change your course?”

The archmage stared back, the flames in his eyes burning high. “Yes. Humans must survive on Davrar.” He blinked at Khachi, just noticing who he was talking to and correcting himself. “People must survive on Davrar. If there is a better way, I will leverage all of my magic behind it.”

The lights upon the man stayed steady, and Khachi pursed his lips and glanced towards Nathan consideringly. He dipped his head, indicating that it was Nathan’s decision to make.

“The problem.” Nathan said, watching Hibril dho Bonaz carefully. “Is that you are too powerful. You could decide you know better than the new leadership, and overthrow them the moment we look away.”

I’m not going to mention we’re leaving for good. The threat of us - of me - should help keep any uppity mages in check for a while.

Hibril turned his flaming eyes towards Nathan, spreading his hands wide. “Then will you kill me? Would you break a hand offered in aid? I want to see the society you promise, and the hand of an archmage is a powerful thing to slap away. ”

“No.” Nathan said shortly. “I’m not going to kill you. But that’s not the only option here.” He stepped closer to the archmage of Azamar, grasping his head. The man tried to jerk away, but Nathan held him in place. Khachi’s truth spell broke into glittering light from Nathan’s proximity. “You are too powerful as you are, so I will make you less powerful.”

Hibril jerked as Nathan’s antimagic dug into his mana pool, retching slightly as his spellcasting resource drained away. He struggled fitfully, but was unable to speak as Nathan’s aura replaced the power that enabled the man to cast powerful spells.

Nathan had drained dozens of mana pools by this point, and they all had their own unique properties. That was especially true of Archmages. Hibril’s mana pool was exceedingly large, with extra containers grafted onto the main pool to grant him increased storage capacity. There was also some sort of feedback loop that seemed to be a way to invest mana to get more back later.

Every powerful mage has some way to cheat mana. Stella’s got her tricks to generate near-infinite-mana, and this guy has the same. Some of the archmages I killed had something similar, and Badud’s mana pool was an intricate machine. At least it was before I smashed it apart.

Manipulating his antimagic carefully, Nathan set about surgically removing the enhancements to Hibril’s mana pool. He could sever Hibril dho Bonaz from magic if he wanted to. It would be much simpler than what Nathan was doing, but he didn’t want to go that far. He wanted to cripple Hibril’s magic, to leave him his full spellcasting repertoire but deny him access to the amount of mana necessary to destroy an army.

He spoke as he worked, explaining what he was doing and why. “I am damaging your mana pool, limiting you to the amount of mana a mage of your level should have without skills or talents to boost capacity and regeneration. I’m doing this because it will mean you can’t fight the new leadership of Giantsrest and win. You will be powerful, but you won’t be able to speak from a place of ultimate power.” Once he was done, Nathan removed his hands from the archmages’ head, steadying him as the man reeled.

I just broke a Talent, and a skill. They don’t work anymore, and Hibril’s mana pool is permanently scarred. Even if he drops the Talent and tries to get it again, it won’t work. I don’t think leveling will let him increase his mana pool either. I wonder if he can drop the Talent at all? Seems insensitive to ask.

Wizard’s Understanding 8 achieved!

“This is your punishment, for supporting GIantsrest. For keeping slaves. You have the opportunity to improve. Don’t waste it. Free your slaves and work with them to build something new.”

Then Nathan huffed out a breath. “Actually, we’ll free your slaves. You should plan to evacuate, to move to Giantsrest. They need help, and you won’t be able to defend Azamar on your own anymore.”

Hibril looked up at him with a complicated expression, guilty and angry and hopeful all at once. The flames in his eyes had dimmed, but they were still present. “Let us weave the same color.”

Void of Magic has leveled to 654! You have broken the power of an archmage, and freed the city of Azamar from slavery!

Status of Nathan Lark:

Permanent Talent 1: Arcane Nullfield 6

Permanent Talent 2: Immortal Body 5

Permanent Talent 3: Airwalking 7

Class: Void of Magic level 654

Deepened Stamina: 19920/19920

Void of Feeling

Antimagic Momentum

Raging Thrill

Implacable Inertia

Unarmored Resilience

Magic Anathema

Airborne Agility

Hand-to-hand Expertise

Voluminous Aura

Denial of Wizardry

Mana Severance

Class: Spellslayer level 479

Regenerative Focus: 3791/4890

Catastrophic Blows

Battle Stealth

Mage Infiltration

Forgettable

Sneaky Blow

Antimagic Stealth

Magical Manipulation

Lethal Index

Wizard Resistance

Magic Jammer

Controlled Failure

Utility skills:

Wizard’s Meditation 8

Inspiration 8

Acceleration 10

Wizard’s Detection 6

Alertness 10

Wizard’s Understanding 8

Effortless Dodge 9

Mental Vault 5

Tutoring 5

Parkour 7

Visibility Control 3

High-tier Disguise 3

Mid-tier Battle Cry 10

High-tier Aura Manipulation 10