BTIV - Chapter 2

Footsteps echoed outside the room as Micah and pulled himself to his feet.  Leeka was having the worst time of it, but everyone in his group was still suffering ill effects from the long distance teleportation.  Drekt leaned woozily against Tellivern, but everyone else was on the floor groaning and clutching at their heads or stomachs.

Micah shook his head to clear some cobwebs, and a moment later the sounds outside came to a stop.  A man flung the door open before stepping inside, shoulder-length brown hair unruly and half covering his face as he brandished a longsword.  A step behind him was a woman with the same dark and narrow features, a spear clutched in both of her hands.  Neither of them were wearing proper armor.  The man had tried to hurriedly don a breastplate, but it was clear from the way that it flopped and clanked as he hurried into the room that its leather straps weren't completely tight.  As for the woman, she was wearing armor woven from silk with strips of silvery metal worked into the weave.  It would help if someone tried to bludgeon her or throw her into a wall, but any slashing or piercing weapon with a double digit body attribute behind it would likely be able to tear through it without too much trouble.

"Halt!"  The man shouted uncertainly.  "You're trespassing on the private property of the Silver Wolves, a chartered mercenary group.  We've alerted the town guard and-"

"Shut up Devon," Trevor groaned.  "Whatever Micah did to us, I think I'd rather take my luck piloting a boat back through the Teeth.  White hot ash filling my lungs and burning me to death from the inside out sounds like a blessing compared to... wherever in the Hells he dragged us."

"Mister Silver?" Devon asked, looking at Trevor.  A second later he shifted his gaze to Micah and gulped.  "Commander."

The guard's eyes widened, and Micah noticed that his previously steady sword had begun to tremble slightly.

"We're back," Micah said, trying soothe the jumpy man.  "I'm not going to get angry at you for doing your job.  You had no way to know that I set up a teleportation beacon in my laboratory and we didn't exactly send a message ahead to let you know that we would be jumping into the headquarters.  Mom and Dad live here, I'm happy that you responded to our presence within a minute or so.  It comforts me to know that you were taking threats to their safety seriously while I was gone."

"But I will have questions about the fit of your armor and the maintenance of your weapon," Drekt interjected, knees wobbling ever so slightly as the took a step away from Tellivern.  "You responded quickly, and that is to be commended, but your blade is chipped and your breastplate isn't in place properly.  What would you have done if we were intruders?  Maybe you could of stopped an adventurer of ordinary power and ability, but any serious interloper would have easily overwhelmed you."

Devon gulped, his eyes widening further.  Then his shoulders slumped.  For a moment, Micah was afraid that he was going to see a grown man cry, but the woman, his sister, Mackenzie stepped in.

"What else were we supposed to do?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest and letting her spear horizontally fill the doorway to the lab.  "Adam is off grabbing the town guard and Wendy is rousing the adventurers that are in the guild house.  The rest of the guild would have been down here, fully armored and prepared in the next ten or so minutes.  Devon and I just needed to hold you off until then.  The plan was for him to occupy the doorway while I used my spear and wood magic to prevent your passage.  We didn't need to kill or subdue you, just stop you from leaving, and against most people the two of us would've been more than enough."

"Of course," she remarked, eyeballing Micah sourly, "I doubt anyone could hold off the commander for ten minutes.  Even the two of you together would struggle to stop him for five."

"Well," Micah cut in, holding his hands up to try and defuse the situation.  "It's a good thing that we aren't fighting then.  There's no need for us to debate who would win or lose in a hypothetical spar.  All we really need is for you to let the rest of the guild know that they can stand down."

"And to send someone to fetch Adam," Drekt finished for him.  "The last thing I need is to deal with some bewildered and jumpy members of the guard when I'm covered in sweat and vomit.  As much as I spend most of my time bemused by Trevor's flourish and exaggeration, I would truly like to avoid an experience like that again.  I truly do feel like I spent the entire night drinking juusht only to wake up and roll myself down the tallest dune in a barrel."

Micah rolled his eyes.  He didn't feel amazing either.  The teleportation formation had eaten all of the temporal energy in two ancient works of art and one minor magical item, easily equal to one of the trees that he had used as energy batteries when he had been summoning daemons to protect Basil's Cove.  The journey through Elsewhere had taken the better part of a minute, longer than he had ever spent in the cursed realm except for the time when he had tried to travel there physically only to shatter his physical form.  Maybe his familiarity with the cold, endless mists and malevolent and formless prowling entities provided him with some level of protection against the psychic shock of traveling through there.

He looked to the side to where Trevor was nodding earnestly, his right hand on his head and massaging his temples while he clutched his stomach with his left.

Or maybe the rest of his party were overly dramatic whiners.  Honestly, he'd seen Trevor complain more about a splinter than a talon attack that had shaved off a third of his hit points in one blow.

"Would you mind telling everyone to stand down?"  Micah asked.  "Apparently everyone else is miserable right now, and as funny as it would be to watch Drekt try and answer the shouted questions of a dozen guards half his level, we've had an eventful couple of months.  More than anything I just want to talk to mom and dad before spending a couple of days recovering.  I think we're all a little antsy from how things ended."

Devon blew out  a shuddering breath before shaking his head to center himself.  When he looked up again, his brown eyes were much steadier.  He nodded once, more for himself than anyone else in the room before replying.

"I'll run and catch up with Adam.  Mack, do you think you can head to the barracks and head everyone off before we have a fully armored squad down here bothering Drekt and the Commander?"

"Of course," she said.  Bobbing her head once, curtly, at Micah before she took her leave, followed a moment later by Devon.

Micah stood there in relative silence, the scrape of his companions' armor against the stone floor and their quiet groans as the struggled to recover from the teleportation the only sounds disturbing the stillness.  Tellivern walked past him, chuffing slightly to itself as it exited the room

"Fine," Micah replied walking over to a locked desk in the corner of the room.  "I'll give them something for the nausea and use refresh.  They'll all get better on their own so I don't know if there is really a point to it, but I'd prefer to keep the mop and bucket time to a minimum.  Less vomit is better."

The stag didn't respond, instead walking out into the hallway and toward the wide staircase that led to the ground floor of the guild hall.  Micah pulled a small vial of clear liquid that almost seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the laboratory.  One by one he approached  each member of his party, offering them a quick pull from the bottle as he cast refresh on them.  Between the low level potion and his magic, he brushed away almost all lingering effects from the ritual, but Leeka couldn't help but eye beacon with visible distrust.

By the time he was finishing up, there was a rap on the door frame.  Micah turned his attention from where he was casting the final spell on Trevor, and a smile blossomed on his face.  His father, Jon, stood in the doorway, wearing a simple nightshirt and pants, still rumpled from his time in bed.  Before his dad could say a single word, his mother, Veronica, pushed past the old tailor, rushing into the room where she wrapped Esther up in a giant hug before picking the teenage girl up.

Micah bit back a chuckle as Veronica spun in a circle, ignoring Esther's squirming protests.  His father walked up beside him, half-smile on his face as he watched his wife dote on his daughter.  Jon was shorter than Micah now.  It was a shock every time he noticed it.  He'd always seemed so big throughout Micah's childhood, as he goofed off with Trevor, threw himself into studying with Keeper Ansom.  His dad had always stood larger than life.  Even in the years spent repeating the time loop to protect Basil's Cove, no matter how much personal knowledge and power Micah gained and lost, Jon had always stood over him.

Even if it wasn't physical, there was a certain weight to the old man.  A gravitas and wisdom to his words that Micah didn't dare discount no matter how many levels he gained, enchantments he crafted, or spells he learned.  Jon simply saw and understood the world in a calmer way than most.  He didn't ever jump to conclusions, instead thinking over his words before giving responses, and that had only become more true with the years.

Actually seeing someone that towered so heavily in Micah's memories in the flesh was a bit of a disruption.  His father's hair was gray and his body with thin, almost frail.  Despite that, he hadn't truly begun to slow down.  There was a fire in his eyes as he watched Veronica pester Esther that reassured Micah.  No matter how much things changed, Jon would always be there with a helpful suggestion and a thoughtful word.

"Did you find it?"  His father asked, not taking his eyes off of Veronica as she set Esther down.  "Whatever it was you were looking for?  You seemed pretty worked up when you left.  Something about the weight of all Karell and the gods themselves on your shoulders when you set out."

Micah nodded, reaching up to tap the crown on his head.  The band of metal glittered.  It was pretty, but no matter how much work had gone into its appearance, nothing would compare to the constant deluge of magic that thrummed through it.  Wearing it was a heady, exhilarating experience.  Micah could literally see the magic around him.  Every enchantment glowed dimly, and if he reached out with his mind he could almost taste some of the details that went into its casting.  It was like the artifact had unlocked some extra sense.

"Will it be enough?" Jon whispered.  "I don't really know much about these things, but whatever it was you were afraid of, I don't want it hurting my kids.  If you aren't certain, we made enough attunement over the last couple months.  All of us could just leave.  Pack up and run away somewhere that we could live out the rest of our days without whatever monster is out there hunting us.  I appreciate that you're a hero son, but at the end of the day, some problems are too big for any one man.  If its a problem created by the gods, maybe it should be the gods that solve it in."

He sighed, running a finger across the slick metal of the crown.  A tingle of energy ran up the digit, as if it were encountering a constant static shock.  Finally, he shrugged.

"I don't know honestly."  He tried to keep his voice quiet, not wanting to disturb his mother as she quizzed Esther about what the girl had been eating.  "The artifacts are absurdly powerful.  The crown lets me interact with and alter magic directly.  I don't even need to use spells anymore.  Just reach into the raw chaos and grab a handful of mana and turn it into a searing energy bolt.  Against anyone but the Third Prince, I'd laugh at your question, but its something more or less beyond magic.  It can do the same sort of things without using an enchantment as a crutch, and its been practicing since before the gods themselves made Karell."

"I have a fighting chance," Micah continued, turning his attention back to his father.  "But I'm also the only chance the entire planet has.  I need more allies and levels if I'm going to win, but the Prince has my scent now.  It made that clear when I fought its servants.  It can find me on the other side of the world, and I'm the only thing that can stop it.  If I leave it alone it will hunt me and it will kill me.  I don't like the odds, but really the only choice I have is to try and grow strong enough to stop it."

Jon sighed, patting Micah twice on the back.  Near the center of the lab, Veronica had set Esther down and had begun to pester Trevor who was responding in his usual, flippant fashion.

"I suppose that makes your choices easier then," his father said.  "If you're backed into a corner, you fight and you fight like the hells themselves are after you.  When the chips are down, the same rules that apply to a trapped fox apply to a man.  Just let me know what I can do to help.  I'm hardly a fighter, and I'm getting a bit up there in years, but I suppose I still have to live on Karell for the time I have left.  It would be a shame if some monster from gods know what dungeon decided to burn the entire world down before I got a chance to meet more than one of my grand kids."

"I'm not sure how much easier it makes things," Micah replied with a sigh.  "I know I have to fight, and the first step was clearly collecting Dakkora's legacy, but now that I'm back and I have her artifacts, nothing is terribly clear.  The Third Prince was summoned in Pereston the first time, and I suspect that's the case once again, but the last time around it only took it a couple of months to take over the entire government.  A third of the officials were enthralled with magic, another third were ensnared with honeyed promises of wealth and power.  As for the final third?  Its a being of unfathomable power.  It summoned a swarm of daemons, including many kinds I'd never seen before and hand them killed in the dead of night.  I might not be the strongest human alive right now, but I'm sure I can change that status in the next couple of months.  Even then, how does one man fight an entire country?"

"Not one man," his father responded.  "You have an entire guild behind you.  I know that you and Drekt didn't want to expand the Silver Wolves' operations too much because you didn't want to alarm the local government, but maybe it's time to trash that policy.  There are a lot of young eager blessed out there that haven't been given a proper chance.  No one else can work with their blessings directly like you, and most guilds aren't willing to invest time and attunement on developing their skills and equipping them with enchantments.  If you start up a recruitment drive, I'm sure you could fill out your ranks in no time.  Maybe not enough to fight an entire country, but you could certainly turn the Wolves into a power to be reckoned with."

"The governor won't like that," Micah grumbled.  "Let alone the central government.  "I don't want to accidentally create more trouble for myself.  I'm already going to have to fight my way through one country.  That's practically suicide.  Adding another to the mix?  It might be easier to put some adder venom in my wine and just hasten things along.  It would certainly hurt a lot less than what the Third Prince has planned for us all."

Jon chuckled.  Across the lab, Veronica was pinching at Trevor's sides and demanding to know what he had been eating.  Never mind that Micah's brother was covered in muscles, that wasn't enough for his worried mother.  According to her, he was wasting a way.  Already she was making plans out loud for what they would be eating in order to fatten the young man up.

"You're forgetting," his father said.  "You're rich now.  Even before you went across the ocean, the guild was fairly wealthy.  We weren't exactly as strong as the major merchant groups, but your escapades brought in a lot of attunement.  Then you left me in charge with that book of market trends."

"Now," Jon continued, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling up at the corners of his mouth.  "Your dad isn't going to raid a dungeon anytime soon, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to invest or haggle.  I survived for years as a craftsman without having Trevor or you fix all of my problems.  I could have made a fortune simply knowing market trends, but foreknowledge of the economic disruption caused by the eruption of the Serpent's Teeth?  The guild is rich now Micah.  Very rich.  So long as we make it clear that expansions to the guild aren't a threat to any existing powers, we're part of the establishment now.  The country will be glad to have another top rated guild so long as its sure of your loyalty."

"How rich are we talking?"  Micah asked.  "I don't want to walk into someone's parlor with a puffed out chest and ask for an audience only to have them spit in my face.  I've learned my lesson with expecting fair treatment from the nobility unless they think there's something to be gained from dealing with me."

"You won't have to walk into a noble's parlor," his dad replied with a chuckle.  "You'll have an invitation and a silk carpet laid out in front of you.  I have to fend off the sons' of noble houses asking about Esther at least once a week.  Hells, I've had at least a couple people ask if you're single.  It might take some time to schedule a meeting with the governor, and I'm not sure we have the pull needed to set anything up with the royal family, but for anyone else?  They see you as a rising star Micah, and they want to hitch their wagons to you.  You won't be the one making connections with them.  They will see it as them making connections with you."

"Micah!"  He jumped at his mother's shout.  She was storming across the room, shaking a finger at him as she stomped toward him.  "Just look at Trevor, Esther and Eris.  Forcing them to eat trail rations?  Camping int he bottom of a cave for the better part of a month?  You've been starving my children and granddaughter, barely letting them shower or see the sun.  By the Sixteen, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Go on," Jon said, nudging him with an elbow.  "We can discuss recruitment and expanding the guild later, but you should talk with your mother now.  Veronica might not show it well, but she missed you.  This is just her way of saying she was worried.