Sequence C: Chapter 1

Walking into hell.

It was already late in the day; the human sitting on the bench in front of the drop hammer moved the shovelhead out of the path as he moved to cool the metal in the trough nearby. He was not tired, more than willing to continue his work. He had only twelve more shovels to complete this order. Yet he turned the crank once to cut off the steam to the hammer, the first step in closing up shop for the day. Wulfric Howell would only be too willing to continue, if this order was finished today, his brother could make screws, hammers and hinges the next day. But the sound of the forge, in any measure, was ‘too disturbing’ to the wealth nearby.

The Howell family was both frowned upon and respected. Those above looked down on them; labourers who dared live and work so close to the expensive residences. While most others looked favourably upon the quality of the family’s craft. Wulfric pulled a chain near the forge, dislodging a long metal pin. As the pin slipped from its home, the molten stone swirling in the pit stopped. The great churning and bubbling magma seemed to freeze in place, the heat being sapped from it in a series of great waves that washed over him. Once the pit was once again filled simply by a solid mass of stone, the blacksmith slid the metal pin into another hole, simply to hold it overnight.

The man took from a small rail a small square of cloth. After wiping all the sweat from himself with it, he wrung the cloth out into a small metal bowl at the base of a little brass idol. Wulfric hung the cloth from the small rod under the shrine before putting his ‘daywear’ on once again and leaving the shop.

It was too early for ‘The Silver Drop’. Not that they wouldn’t serve him, it was simply unbecoming to be seen drinking with the sun so far from the great mountain. Instead, the man jogged up the street and around the fences of the wealthy estates to gate of the largest estate in the city. The great gate yielded almost eagerly to the touch of the family that forged it. Nothing pleased him more than to see so many of what he would call ‘the poor’ moving about the academy. The same people who complain about his noise had complained in the past that the quality of admission had declined.

The blacksmith simply smiled and nodded at the various races as he passed them. He could even see some goruns among the students. Not that he considered goruns stupid. It was simply a rare sight. Shaking his head of the stray thoughts, Wulfric paused for a moment, glancing at the various clocks on display on the various buildings. At this time, he wanted to go….. that way!

He did not knock on the door, simply pushed it ajar slightly to peer inward. A large group sat in seats rising in circles around the stage where a long creature stood. The speaker was no less than six foot tall, with long arms and legs and fingers twice as long in proportion to its hands as Wulfric’s own. The irwinian, ‘Garrett Kane’, ignored the new entrant, continuing his lecture while numbers seemed to scribble themselves on the board behind him. Wordlessly, the human took a seat near the door, simply listening.

“-And that is why, of the Arithmantic disciplines, Astrology is considered the most accurate and powerful. Of course, it also demonstrates the difficulty of performing Astrological calculations accurately. It is very easy to make mistakes, forget variables or simply truncate a calculation, which skews or blurs the result.” The numbers began to fade from the board as the irwinian moved to the desk, his stride both fluid and deliberate. “If you choose to specialise in any discipline of Arithmancy, understand this; it is a rabbit hole that can devour more of your life than some of you seem capable of giving. Arithmancy is a field for both the studious and the tempered. I wish you all the best of luck in your studies. If only to see how accurate my evaluations of your names have been.” With a final gesture, the irwinian dismissed the group that had been listening to varying degrees.

When only two stragglers remained near the door did Professor Kane finally look at Wulfric. “If you wish to take up the study of Arithmancy, Mr Howell, I’m more than confident your family could afford it.”

“If the magic is as good as you always say, old man, you’d know I’m not the kind of person to be interested.” the blacksmith snorted, standing and embracing the irwinian’s hand. Garrett nodded ponderously for a minute before smiling and returning the handshake.

“Of course, but there’s a field of magic for everyone. We simply have to find yours.” he smiled, shaking his head clear after a second. “Oh! But on that note, I require your expertise.”

“You mean you need someone to talk at while you think?” The blacksmith held the door as the irwinian’s long fingers wrapped around the handle of his briefcase. The man’s long legs moved quickly for only a few strides before reaching the open door.

“Of course. But your family does have some expertise you may be able to lend me.” Wulfric shrugged. He had expected this, it was why he came to visit the old family friend after all. Listening to the irwinian ramble was a great way to spend time, even if he thought himself too stupid to understand much of what was said. He only became aware that the two weren’t walking together when he heard the voice of the irwinian behind him in the hall. “Not to the office today, Mr Howell. Not enough room for it in there.”

They walked for a couple of minutes, winding to a part of the campus Wulfric had only seen when wandering lazily on his own. One building, sitting apart from all the others, was covered in a strange shimmering light. A sign over the door read ‘Recreation hall C’. Professor Kane smiled at the expression on Howell’s face. “It’s so big, they gave me permission to set one of the major halls off-limits.” The irwinian opened the door and seized the blacksmith by the wrist to pull him through after.

They passed several closed sports rooms, each one seemed heavily scorched or even warped inside as if powerful magical effects had ripped through them uncaringly. When Garrett Kane next opened a door, Wulfric simply stood at the threshold with his mouth agape.

Inside the room, suspended in the air by ropes along the entire length of the massive hall, was a single creature. It was a serpent of some description; Wider than a man was tall and longer than even the longest ship he’d ever worked on. At several points along its body, the creature seemed to have a large frill wrapping around its body. Each frill had been moved to full spread, while several of the creature’s glittering, semi-transparent scales had been peeled from its body. Each scale was large enough to be a small shield in the hands of a human-like himself. Wulfric simply mouthed, stunned, as he stepped into the room. “A Nelcatra” The irwinian’s voice echoed as he closed the door behind them.

“A?” Was the only sound to escape Wulfric as his legs finally responded to his mind and the human stumbled forward toward the giant creature.

“Yes. As it happens, The Nelcatra isn’t a single mythical beast. It’s a species.” He could hear Garrett’s voice, but the blacksmith was too enraptured by standing beneath the creature, arm outstretched to run his fingers across the scales. They weren’t as smooth as he expected, feeling more like sandpaper than glass. Only upon getting this close could he tell that the creature’s scales were more than an inch thick, yet he couldn’t see more than a quarter of that distance through them.

“How did you-?” again the blacksmith’s hand stroked the rough, possibly sharp scales slowly.

“A fishing boat brought it in. There was a situation and it sunk two ships before it’s magic was stopped by a tetherian ritualist.” The blacksmith looked over with a confused expression. Professor Kane was standing at a set of desks that had been arranged near the monster, the desks themselves covered in various strange tools and some of the beast's scales. “Nevermind. Long story short, they got lucky and managed to kill it, losing only two ships and twenty-five of the total seventy crew.”

“Twenty-five lives lost and you call it lucky?” Howell stopped at the table, picking up one of the creature’s surprisingly light and flexible but sturdy scales and turning it over in his hands.

“Given it’s only the second account of anyone surviving a Nelcatra attack? Yes, I say twenty-five is a small price to pay for the remaining forty-five.” The irwinian’s long fingers wrapped over the side of the large scale, sliding it out of his hands and substituting another piece that had been cut in half. “This was already damaged by a war axe, so it was the best to break open.”

The cross-section of the scale was strange, much of it appeared to be ringed like a recently cut tree. However, about one-third of the cross-section instead bore a collection of tubes, with the ringing spreading out from them until all the rings from the tubes aligned to begin the first normal ‘ring’. “I don’t think I’d call twenty-five dead, ‘lucky’. But different brains and all.” he glanced up at the irwinian’s eyes momentarily. “and I don’t know what ‘expertise’ I could have that would help you with this in any way.” he placed the half-scale down, looking at the ‘old man’ more directly.

In answer, the irwinian handed him another scale. This one had been sliced in the other direction, along the grain of the layers but also through the tubes at its centre. Bizarrely, it was ringed as well, as if a layer of flattened bubbles. “I know your father makes some Arcanomechanism. Does this look like it would function as a Brachyrian Barrier?” the blacksmith’s eyes narrowed as he looked back down at the two cut scales for a minute before nodding. He began to clarify his inexperience but was cut off. “I hoped so. It means these are Jent Ghun channels. Natural Biorunism. The part that grabbed my attention though, is that they are fully encased, not surface grooves.”

He wasn’t a wizard by any measure. But Mr Howell knew enough to have one question. “If magic can’t get in to flow through the channels. What’s the point?”

Professor Kane’s eyes lit up excitedly as he hurried around the tables to a collection of vials, scooping up three before heading back. He placed each vial down one at a time as he spoke. “We found these in its body. Inside the musculature connected to the scales, like veins.” Red liquid. “The thing is, they’re magically charged.” Green liquid. “And we don’t know how.” Blue liquid.

Picking up the vial of green liquid, the human turned it over in his hands curiously. “What are they? Before the magic, I mean?”

“We don’t know! It doesn’t react to the test in the way anything should aside an impossible case.”

Wulfric rolled his eyes at this statement, handing over the flask of green liquid, knowing he was about to have to stand and watch some magical test. Grinning, Garrett placed the flask on a cleared section of the desks. Grabbing a piece of chalk, he drew a circle around the flask, itself surrounded by runes. “Okay, this is creating an antimagic shield. It prevents magic from passing through, or magical effects being directed inside from outside. So if this creature had some organ that was creating the liquids ex nihilo and sustaining them at the range, it would have vanished the moment I created the field.” The green liquid was sitting uncaring in the flask in the middle of the circle. “Don’t worry, it would have reappeared when I destroy the field. So if that’s not the case, it needs to be enchanted right? If we disenchant some of it, we can determine what the base liquid is, then compare to the enchanted to determine the enchantments?” Wulfric nodded, already half lost but trying to follow the excited rambling as best he could. “So, to disenchant it. All I need to do is pass the liquid through the field.” He lifted the flask upward, watching as the top line of the liquid seemed to lower as he lifted, though the line didn’t return as he lowered it back down to where it sat. “But disenchanting it destroys it completely.” He erased the chalk diagram, stepping away and smiling. “Any idea what that could mean?”

The blacksmith thought for a moment, there were two options but a third circumstance. Was it like the difference between venomous and poisonous? “The liquid is sustaining itself?”

The grin spread wide across the irwinian’s face as he nodded.

“With everything we’ve found in its body, there is no way the creature is producing this substance. It’s somehow getting it from its environment and simply making use of it.” Professor Kane was looking at the blacksmith almost expectantly. As if waiting for him to realise the implications of this concept, but Howell simply shook his head in a half defeated manner. “There is some form of a generator of this in the ecosystem. If we could find it, it would be a wellspring of magical study. It might even lend clues as to what happened to Einode. Or at least help us understand their form of magic!”

Wulfric laughed, not heartily nor sarcastically, the kind of nervous laugh one uses to mask the stupidity of a friend. “You probably need to rephrase that if you say it to anyone else. Sounds like you’re thinking of going to where this thing-” the human’s arm swept through the air in a grand gesture at the suspended serpentine monster. “- calls home, to raid its food supply. After just saying that there are more than one of this thing.” but the irwinian simply turned away, gathering up a flask of blue liquid and pouring it through one hole in one of the intact scales. With some churning of his fingertips, the two watched as the blue liquid flowed through the air from one end of the scale and back in the entrance.

“This liquid, if we can understand all its properties, is one of the most significant magical discoveries of the decade.” Kane retorted, snatching a scalpel from the desk and rolling up his sleeve. “There is no telling what else this stuff can do. What nature has found to do with it, given this is one of the oldest passages in every one of the scales.” With his left hand sitting on the underside of the scale, the irwinian pulled the scalpel up his arm, groaning and flinching in pain as it easily sliced through his skin. But no blood leaked out, it had no time. Every part of his arm healed up after the metal had passed it by. It was as if the only part cut was the piece of the arm the scalpel was in contact with. When he finally pulled the blade away, the arm was completely unharmed. “And I suppose you can see why they’re so hard to kill.”

“You’re not doing your argument any favours, old man.”

“But we know enough about how it works to ward against it. I can make sure these creatures don’t approach us while we explore. And it’s not just the magic that they hold, it’s the history of Einode!” As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Howell did find the idea of being the first to explore the island of Einode appealing. All that history. Forgotten tomes, ancient technologies and the sort. It annoyed him how easy it was for the irwinian to convince him of things. But still, the danger outweighed any benefits. “All I need is a little of your family’s support, and I’ll travel by myself if need be.”

The blacksmith shook his head, straightening up as the words escaped his mouth before the filter slammed shut in front of them. “There is no way I am letting you go alone… We should ask Samen, I’m sure she wouldn’t want to miss such a prospect. But! You have to prove you can keep these things at bay before I’ll agree to anything.”

Garrett Kane pursed his lips at this idea. Samen Crista was one of the campus’ librarians, but that was not his problem with her. She was one of the ‘under’ races, not that he judges her for something out of her control. If anything he pitied her circumstances and prided her on her accomplishments despite her species. “Sure” the irwinian smiled, though the side of his mouth seemed to flicker a little as he fought himself. “I can create a barrier,” he latched onto the topic of proof, eager to move the conversation away from Ms Crista. His hands began to move through the air, pulling through the flow of magic around them and intersecting swirls of the cosmic liquid his friend could not see. “All it need do is prevent anything the magic can’t pass through from moving through it.” As the effects of his magic fell into place, a complicated pattern of invisible swirling liquid in front of him, the tables near the two jolted momentarily. The wooden tables were pushed and rotated, spinning away from him slightly until they seemed to sit face on to him completely. Several pieces of paper and other random items had fallen to the ground; shaken loose by the movement but not stopped by the barrier.

“You wanted my ‘expertise’ when all you had to do was cast this spell, then get someone to do this.” Howell grabbed one of the removed scales and pushed it toward the wizard. It stopped against an unseeable surface, sliding across as if he was pressing against a dome. Changing his angle of attempt, the blacksmith continued to have no luck in pushing the scale any closer to the wizard. “Proof enough I’d say.” He smiled, tossing the shield-like scale aside and approaching the irwinian himself. “Let’s go find Samen, I’m sure she’d love to hear about this. She might even know some books that will help you understand this thing while I think about this whole situation.” His arm was on the irwinian’s shoulder, gently pressing to push the man without seizing and dragging him.

The professor didn’t say anything as the two moved back through the building and eventually the campus. The library was the centremost building, five stories tall and forged of beautifully intricate architecture. Once inside, Garrett’s lips pursed yet again at the sight of some of the students studying quietly at small desks scattered about the area. Though his human companion noticed, he was not pulled up on these thoughts or opinions. So long as he simply did not voice them.

On the second floor, down an aisle of books, they spied a shorter creature than even Wulfric. They might have stood at his height or maybe a little taller if they could ever not be bowing. The parts of their body not covered in the librarian’s gown were instead covered with glossy black feathers. The librarian’s beak was half the length of their arm and their arms resembled their legs rather than the wings of most other birds. “Samen!” Mr Howell said loud enough to be heard, but not to echo. Garrett grew slightly tense, how was the human even sure this was the one they were looking for.

“Wlfrc” The creature’s head turned to face them, the feathers around the base of the beak twitching slightly in something most people considered a ‘smile’. “And Kane Professor.” her voice was a little sharp with the strange way she said his name, but the irwinian did not mind. Wulfric had removed his hand from his back to embrace the bird woman in a friendly hug. “I am at work for two more hours. Is there anything you need help finding?” Her chittering chuckle caused the human’s smile to spread imperceptibly.

It took five weeks for Wulfric Howell to organise transport, once he was properly convinced that the irwinian was not asking for a death sentence. It was strange that the person who had the hardest time getting leave to join them was, in fact, the avianosi; Samen. It was lucky that her duties seemed to fall away coincidentally shortly after Howell had told Kane that he was worried about the prospect of leaving without her. Their vessel was to be the Correbeton, a merchant vessel passing along a known safe route near enough to einodian waters. Captain Lerrian, an elderly rjkari sailor, had promised that if Professor Kane could guarantee their safety, he would stop just within einodian waters to allow them to row to shore. On the provision that the three returned to sea to wait for him four weeks after, as he would not sail into einodian waters a second time no matter what promises they made.

On the day before their journey was to start. Wulfric’s father, Eperimus Howell, gifted him a strange object. It was the length of the blacksmith’s arm, primarily a hollow metal rod covered in intricate writing. However, as he showed his son how to old it, the old metalworker instead gripped primarily wooden attachments, pressing one against his shoulder while looking down the length of the rod. “New spells are well and good Wulfric,” he had said, handing the strange object over. “But I trust the tested kind. Let it protect you, for me yes?” It was a difficult farewell. The sensation of finality hanging over the entire family. Even Wulfric couldn’t shake the feeling no matter how much he reassured his family. After all, the Nelcatra was just one predator in einode, who knew what prowled the land?

Of the three, Mr Howell was the last to reach the docks. Professor Kane had packed lightly, keeping with him only provisions to last himself the four weeks, and several texts on various kinds of magic and his notes on the Nelcatra’s anatomy. Ms Crista was considerably more prepared, having packed ‘all the food she owned’ apparently. As well as several atlas’ and historical texts that mentioned einode. Both men doubted her claim of food though, given her lone bag was so easily slung from her shoulder. But neither brought their concerns to bear.

The journey was little more than two weeks long on its own, following an arched route rather than a straight line. As if whoever had designed the journey had intentionally stretched the time beyond the four weeks it should have taken to reach the ships actual destination. Yet whenever asked, the captain assured them this was the intended route before they had made their request. Of course, it was only the human that asked the question. His friends seemed too busy with their things to care as to the strange route the ship was taking. Garrett Kane spent each day practising his spell, creating as large a protective shell as he could. When he was able to encase the entire ship, he began attempting to create and maintain two, one for the rowboat and one for the ship. Samen, however, spent much of each day whispering to herself in the strange language of her people. Wulfric had wanted to learn the language once, long ago. But when he learnt that they did not use vowels, he found himself stumbling over each word and running out of breath very quickly.

Every day they drew closer to the island, Garrett became more and more excited despite his ‘focusing’ on his work. Wulfric found the old irwinian standing by the ship’s boats on the day of arrival, simply looking in the direction of the island and waiting for the captain’s signal to shield them. The water in the distance seemed to shimmer with strange waves unrelated to the wind, a winding wake that slithered toward them. The waves moved closer and closer before simply turning away and circling back to turn away from them again. After three passes, the waves stopped as whatever creature it was, dove further from the surface.

With a wave of the captain's hand, the three explorers climbed into the boat and were lowered into the water. The irwinian was feverishly waving his fingers in the air in front of him as he wove out a smaller version of the shield around themselves. The ship didn’t wait once they reached the water, the sails unfurling and the ship beating a hasty retreat from the dangerous waters before the spell could expire.

Wulfric had been elected to row the boat for the group as he was the one most use to physical labour. Over the side of the boat, he could see small fish in the water. Strange creatures with glittering scales. Though they dispersed at the approach of the small boat. Partway to the island, Samen pointed at the water to the left of their path, staring at something in the water. As the human’s eyes followed her hand, he could see the shadow of something massive. Bigger even than the Nelcatra. But this thing was not moving, it could have been a massive outcropping of rock or coral for all they knew. There was no beach in sight on which to make landfall, only small cliffs surrounding the island as if the edges of the land itself had been sliced off.

Choosing a spot, Howell positioned the boat by the rocks and helped his friends up onto the land before following them up. They had made it. Now what?