《That Could Have Gone Better》14. The Spinning Coin
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Amelia
I didn't last very long trying to maintain my barrier. Brokil let me rest in between each attempt, but it still took all my willpower to force the barrier to hold. About an hour later my barrier finally failed and I got to feel what it was like. Thankfully, Brokil didn't transition to a messier spell. In that split second, before the Water Jet nailed me in the chest, I felt like I'd forgotten about something crucial. The equation-like feeling suddenly had a gaping error in it and it felt like my mind just went, “What?” It was intense, like everything I'd been thinking about was suddenly gone and I'd forgotten what I was doing. The water struck my front and pushed me back slightly. The cold water chilled me as I gasped for air, fully aware of the situation again. The water finally died, and I was left partially soaked and shivering. “Holy shit.” I gasped. “I feel like I blanked there for a minute.”
Brokil grinned slightly as he nodded. “That is why I wanted you to experience it.” He explained. “It is simple and sturdy against the most basic spells, but it causes a rather potent detriment if it encounters a strong enough spell.”
I nodded as I tried to wring my shirt out a bit. “I don't imagine it's very useful in a battle,” I remarked.
Brokil nodded in agreement. “It still halts incoming arrows, the odd shortsword, and basic spells, but beyond that, it can be more of a hindrance than a help.” He replied. “It is worsened when you apply more mana to it. Some have lost entire memories after putting too much into their barrier.”
I raise my eyebrow at him. “That's definitely not good,” I remarked.
Brokil nodded, gesturing down the hill and towards the Institute. “Our Institute has mostly remedied the issue. Fortunately, Elder Mother Garahk was able to restore most of the wizards that were affected. We have also managed to find a partial improvement for this spell, but it is still inefficient in a battle.” I nodded as I was about to speak, but stopped as the water around me suddenly vanished. “Huh, I guess spell water doesn't stick around.”
I turned back to Brokil as I flattened the shirt to my midriff again. “So, why teach us the spell at all?” I asked. “If it caused so many problems, why bother teaching it?”
Brokil shrugged, jabbing his thumb towards the barn. “This spell is an example of what could happen if a spell is created without the proper knowledge of the mystic arts.” He explained. “The danger it poses tends to discourage the more foolhardy from creating a spell without properly learning the magic.”
I rubbed my head as I became a little exacerbated at that. “We're not ‘foolhardy', and we certainly aren't about to try and make spells,” I growled. “This spell serves no purpose to us, so we don't need to learn it, and why didn't the book mention the dangers of the spell.”
Brokil raised a finger at that. “Not true.” He countered. “The book did cover the ill effects of the spell, you merely had to turn the page to see them. The spell also demonstrated several points I wanted to make.” I calmed down a bit at that. “Any barriers that are efficient in a situation of conflict take a bit of time to learn, let alone learn to cast under pressure. This spell was created in an attempt to lessen the pressure of time on wizards to learn such defensive spells. Unfortunately, the one that created it did not properly test the barrier, and it was not until the spell became widely used that the issues with it were discovered.”
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I gestured impatiently. “Do you mind if you could get to the point of all this?” I asked heatedly.
Brokil nodded. “Suffice to say, several lessons can be learned from this spell.” He continued. He began counting on his fingers. “Not all spells make your work easier. Not all mages know what the spell will do when they are finished creating it, and just because a spell is widely used does not mean it is the best one for the task.” I let out a sigh as he listed his reasons. “I believe there's an additional lesson to be learned from it, but it's best if you come to that conclusion on your own. It is additionally useful as a preemptive for more advanced spells.”
I gave his words some thought. “Is this how Zugorim taught you?” I finally asked, a little confrontational.
Brokil grinned slightly and nodded. “Though, he had me pour more mana into the spell before he demonstrated its negative effects.” He replied. “I was particularly foolhardy when he first started teaching me, but after that incident, I put more care into learning the spells.”
I nodded at his words, calmed by his reasoning. “I guess . . . all that . . . makes sense.” I finally admitted. “If someone has to actually make the spells, you can't expect it to be perfect every time. A spell is only as good as its maker.”
Brokil grinned again as he nodded. “You learn quickly.” He remarked. “Most do not come to that conclusion until they start learning how to create their own spells.” I nodded as I gently rubbed my head. “The spell still isn't useful to us. . . unless. . . “
I turned to Brokil. “The partial solution your guys found, does it have anything to do with deflecting?” I asked cautiously.
Brokil continued to grin as he nodded. “Most astute.” He replied. “Cast your barrier again and I shall demonstrate.” I nodded as I began.
The barrier rematerialized as Brokil gestured with his hands, forming them into a V in front of him. “You should be able to manipulate its shape.” He explained. “Try and fold it into an edge in front of you. Most just imagine manipulating a grassy field into their desired shape.” I nodded as I followed his advice. I imagined the field as a grassy hill, and me a shaper of that hill. I imagined a portion of the hill growing mountains, jutting forward in a wedge against any incoming assault. The barrier slowly bent into my envisioned shape. I could hear a slight hum and felt the spell altar to fit my directions. There was suddenly a pop as the field bent into an angle and grew into a formidable wedge in front of me. It finally stopped, and I gazed at the resulting barrier. It still looked like a forcefield, but instead of its elliptical shape, it now looked like the front of the Titanic, jutted forward to break apart anything in its path. Brokil's voice suddenly drew my attention. “Ready?” He asked, gesturing to prepare his own spell. I nodded as a small ball of water appeared in his hand. Brokil waited for a second before he flung his hand forwards and a massive jet of water came barreling at me. I braced for the disturbing sensation, but it didn't come. Instead, the jet of water struck the point of the barrier and was deflected to either side of me. The sensation it produced returned to the temporary bout of ADHD, definitely something more manageable after that. The water finally died and I could see Brokil again.
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I let out a relieved sigh as I gazed at the dripping barrier. “Holy shit.” I gasped. “That's a startling difference.”
Brokil grinned again. “I believe there's another lesson to be learned from that demonstration.” He confirmed, gesturing at the barrier. “Not every issue need be handled head-on. Occasionally an obstacle requires a more creative route.”
I grinned and let out a short laugh at that statement. “There's got to be thousands of stories that teach the very same lesson,” I sighed. “but I'm guessing the orcs don't have the same stories the humans do.”
Brokil nodded in agreement. “It is a valuable and rarely taught lesson,” He stated. “I only wish more could learn this lesson. I fear such a thing is not possible without individual interactions.”
I nodded as I let out a sigh and thought about the literacy rate of the orcs. “Us humans have stories to do exactly that.” I supplied helpfully. “As I said, we have hundreds of books that teach similar lessons. Humans nowadays have access to enough information to fill a thousand libraries.”
Brokil raised his eyebrow in surprise. “That must be quite a building to distribute so much knowledge.” He remarked.
I grinned at the idea. “It's not even that,” I replied. I held up my fingers, forming a rectangle the length and width of my thumb and index fingers, as I continued to talk. “It's a device about this big. It gathers information from places all over the world and displays it to whoever asks for it.”
Brokil's eyebrow went even higher. “I thought you said outsiders don't have magic.” He said.
I let out another laugh. “To anyone that doesn't understand it, it would definitely seem like magic, but it's just science, the same science Dexter's using to make the steel.”
Brokil's eyebrow continued to climb. “Is this ‘device' where you got the knowledge for making the metal?” He asked.
I shook my head and raised my finger at that. “If we were back home, I'd say yes,” I replied. “but since Dexter's phone doesn't have a network to connect to he's had to rely on the books he brought with him to college.”
Brokil stared at me quizzically. “Can he not access the knowledge here?” He asked.
I shook my head again. “His phone doesn't actually hold the information he asks for,” I replied. “It's the worldwide network that holds the information. His phone just displays it for him. He's probably got his personal information and a few games on it, but he wouldn't have anything beyond that. Unless he was one of those paranoid download-everything type people, which he doesn't seem like.”
Brokil just continued to stare at me in disbelief. “I still do not comprehend this.” He stated. “How can such a device exist without the use of magic?” I rubbed my head as I tried to think of a way to explain it.
I finally let out a defeated sigh. “We could be here all day if I try to explain it.” I finally replied. “All you need to know is that humans have access to a ton of information. If they wanted to, they could learn about anything, but most of them just end up using it to play games or read stories.”
Brokil paused to consider my words for a minute. “I suppose you have a point.” He finally admitted. “If the creation of such an artifact is as complex as you claim it to be, now would not be an optimal time to try and simplify it. Fortunately, the same cannot be said for this barrier incantation. There still may be a way for the barrier to be of use to your companion.” I nodded as I turned to glance at Dexter and Bulak. They seemed to be in the middle of a break. Dexter was munching on another plate of ribs, leaving half of it for me to eat later. A bowl of soup sat beside the platter, steaming in the chilly winter air.
I rubbed my head as I recalled his less than stable condition at the moment. “He's not going to be happy about this trick,” I remarked, turning back to Brokil. “He might seem calm, but all it takes is one bad day to set someone off.”
Brokil nodded thoughtfully. “I have already considered.” He replied as he gestured at my barrier. “The barrier can still serve a purpose in the arena. He merely needs to train with its use. If he's particularly skillful in concentration, he shall be able to draw even more use from it.”
I tilted my head as I tried to make sense of his words. “How so?” I asked. “If it causes such a distraction upon breaking, and requires so much concentration, why bother at all?”
It was Brokil's turn to raise a finger. “Because it is possible to manage the detriments.” He replied. I stared at him, confused. Brokil continued as he saw my confusion. “What I mean is, one can learn to minimize the effect through the repeated failure of the barrier. Since you outsiders are only able to use one unit of mana, you will not run the risk other mages encounter when using this spell, not without intention at least.”
I thought about his words for a minute, finding merit behind the logic. “So, if it’s broken repeatedly the mental blank isn't as intense?” I asked.
Brokil nodded. “Though, it has only been claimed by some of the more skilled mages,” He added. “and by their account, it is only noticeable after the shield is broken hundreds, if not a thousand times. Even then, there are still better barriers spells.”
I let out an intrigued hm as I rubbed my chin. “I'm guessing something like that takes months to do?” I asked cautiously.
Brokil nodded affirmatively. “It is not something one is can learn overnight,” He replied. “but if he has the same ability of concentration you have, he may be able to manage with what he has been given.” I nodded as I tried to imagine Dexter's reaction. “If he's referring to himself in the plural, he might have D.I.D. Depending on how many personalities he has, Dexter might not react well to this development, but if he can remain calm enough to hear Brokil out, it might not be so bad. However, that's assuming Dexter's able to withstand Brokil's combat spells. “
I turned back to Brokil. “Choose your words carefully,” I cautioned. “If he gets the wrong idea he might not take it too well.”
Brokil nodded as he glanced at Dexter. “I have given quite a lot of thought to the matter.” He replied assuredly. “I am confident he'll remain calm when I inform him, but for now, let's continue practicing your barrier.” I nodded as another ball of water appeared in Brokil's hand.
After five hours of practicing my barrier, Dexter finally ran out of energy for sparring. He began to walk over, and I let my barrier dissipate. “Ready to switch it up?” He asked flatly.
I nodded, releasing the barrier I was holding. “I think I'm about done with magic for today,” I confirmed, walking past him towards Bulak. “Good luck with your barrier.” Dexter nodded as he approached Brokil so that they could begin his lessons. I moved towards Bulak as she stretched, preparing for my combat training. “Ready to get started?” I asked.
Bulak let out a relaxed sigh and nodded. “I am curious as to how much you retained so far.” She stated. “I covered a fair number of techniques. Most would find difficulty in remembering such a large amount of knowledge.”
I considered for a moment, then shrugged. “There's only one way to find out,” I replied. Bulak nodded again as she began her lesson.
As it turns out, I didn't remember as much as I would have liked. I was able to locate half the points Bulak had pointed out, mostly on the torso, but beyond that, I was completely lost. There was also another list of pressure points Bulak began teaching me when I relearned the points I forgot about. “I am still impressed by how much you recall,” Bulak assured me, guiding my hand through the proper striking technique. “Agrob had spent a week teaching me these vulnerabilities. It took me four days to learn the basic points, and a full month to reliably recall them.”
I nodded as I tried to commit the motion to memory. “I'd imagine,” I replied. “I knew the body could be easily broken if the right pressure was applied, but I didn't know the points were so extensive. You'd think evolution would make a body with fewer weaknesses.”
Bulak just stared at me, confused. “Ev-o-lu-tion?” Bulak asked hesitantly. I did an internal facepalm. “Of course, they don't know about evolution. Hell, we didn't even have germ theory until we made microscopes.”
I let out a sigh as I tried to think of a way to explain it. “It's a very long and very complicated theory.” I finally replied. “However, it essentially boils down to the survival of the fittest. The strong live and pass on their genetics to the next generation, while the weak die off.”
Bulak just stared at me, still confused. “Genetics?” She asked. I let out another sigh. “Right, no knowledge on that either.”
I waved at her as I tried to move onto my point quicker. “That's a whole other conversation,” I replied. “All you need to know about them is that they're what make you, you, your bloodline if you will. You're basically a physical representation of your genetics. It's why you look so similar to your parents, but not to a complete stranger.”
Bulak was silent for a minute, taking in my words. “I do not understand.” She finally replied. “How is our bloodline related to this Ev-o-lu-tion?”
I considered the question for a moment. “It's like this,” I finally replied. “You have the concept of a weak and strong bloodline, correct?” Bulak nodded. “Well, imagine if the weak bloodlines were killed or died off because of their nature. That way, only the strong bloodlines survived. They have children who inherit that bloodline, but after a few generations of that, you start to get children with a weaker bloodline. Soon, the cycle of weak and strong repeats again and again. Eventually, you might get a bloodline that looks nothing like the original, or you get rampant inbreeding as the same bloodline tries to mate with itself. That's the foundational idea of evolution.”
Bulak was silent for another minute. “This is an idea is found in every creature?” She asked.
I considered for a moment, then shrugged. “Not the idea itself, but the same principle of cause and effect is found in all of nature,” I replied. “The ones better equipped to survive, do so, and those that aren't, die. It's how every fathomable creature came to be.”
Bulak tilted her head slightly. “How can you be sure that this is what created them?” She asked. “What makes you outsiders so certain of this theory?”
I let out a long sigh as I considered the myriad of studies performed over the decades. “Consistent and repeatable testing,” I replied simply. “Testing that proves the effects of genetics, and how they influence the chance of survival of an individual. Which can be extrapolated across generations over the course of millions of years.”
Bulak took another minute to process my words. “I still do not understand.” She stated. “What does all that have to do with the pressure points?”
I let out another sigh as I realized where she wasn't making the connection. “Because it's ironic that a proven principle of nature can create bodies that have so many points of failure,” I replied. “After billions of years of evolution, you'd expect us to be better equipped at survival.”
Bulak glanced around at those words. “Is that not what this is?” She asked simply, gesturing around at the city. I glanced around. The combination of greek and medieval architecture contrasted the patches of trees around the city.
The general hustle of the city could be faintly heard as an epiphany harshly shattered my philosophical remark. “You've got a point there,” I replied. “I doubt any other creatures could survive as uniquely as we do. I suppose intelligence is the payoff for having weaker bodies.”
Bulak nodded thoughtfully. “The powerful forms do not appear to benefit the chemisit we hunt.” She remarked. “They fall fairly easily to slay once you've tracked one down.”
I looked at her skeptically. “What's a chemisit?” I asked.
Bulak gestured with her hands as she explained. “A large bear that we hunt for food and cloth. Your carriage accompanied one when we rode back to Snakhagr.”
I nodded as I remembered the mass of fur in front of Dexter's car. “I guess intelligence is handier than we take credit for,” I remarked. “It's what allowed early humans to track large creatures. It's what allows machines like Dexter's car to be brought into reality, and it's what allows cities like Snakhagr to exist.”
Bulak nodded at my monologue. “It's also what allowed us to note the vulnerabilities of the body.” She added. “These techniques took decades to develop. I doubt the creatures of the wild would have the discipline to create such a fighting technique.”
I nodded at the notion. “Another valid point,” I remarked. “I don't think any other animal makes combat such a deadly luxury.”
Bulak grinned slightly as she glanced around again. “Shall we move on to sparring?” She asked suddenly. “If you wish to utilize these techniques, you'll have to do so under pressure.”
I nodded, thinking back to an old factoid. “If it takes ten thousand hours to master a skill. We might as well put a few in now.” I replied. Bulak nodded. She then took a fighting stance and I mimicked her. We were about to begin when a bellow cut the silence of the plateau.
“Then Why The Fuck Would You Teach Me This?” It shouted. Bulak and I turned to the source. I saw Dexter standing in front of Brokil, glaring at him. His eyes seemed to burn with anger as the crack in his glasses glinted off the afternoon sun. “All This Time For Nothing!”
Brokil gestured at Dexter calmingly. “If you would give me a moment t-” He began, but Dexter interrupted.
“I'm Already Pressed For Time. So, Why Would You Waste My Time With This Bullshit!?” He bellowed.
“If I could just explain my-” Brokil tried again, but Dexter was too fast.
“I Thought I'd Get To Learn Something Useful Before I Face God Knows What In The Arena, But Apparently You Just Want To Waste My Fucking Time!” He shouted. Dexter began stomping angrily back towards the barn.
Brokil followed as he tried to reason with him. “You need to learn the lessons all of us learn,” Brokil explained. “I was attempting to teach you multiple lessons at once with this spell. If you would allow me t-”
Dexter turned as he stepped into the barn and grabbed the handle of the door. “Fuck off,” Dexter barked angrily, slamming the door in Brokil's face. I cringed slightly as I tried to imagine Brokil's thoughts. He might not know the full meaning of it, but he sure as hell knew the context of those words.
He turned to me and Bulak, face contorted into a scowl. “Tell him I wish him good fortune with the rite.” He said as he began to stomp away. “He shall receive no more help from me.”
I quickly moved to intercept him before he got too far. “Hang on,” I pleaded. “Can't we talk this out? Just give me some time.”
Brokil shook his head and gestured dismissively. “I have done all I am willing to do.” He growled. “I have tried to open myself to him and he has just spat in my face. I tried to follow your advice, but I believe he is far beyond my help.”
He started to move again, but I blocked his path. “Then let me talk to him.” I pleaded. “Dexter's under a lot of stress right now, and this twist just rubbed him the wrong way.” Brokil just glared at me. I folded my hands together as I pleaded with Brokil. “Please give him another chance. I know I can convince him to be more reasonable.” Brokil was silent for another minute.
He finally let out another aggravated sigh as he gestured again. “Very well,” He finally growled. “but one more interaction like that and I am done. Am I clear?” I nodded. Brokil seems to think for a minute before continuing. “I still will not be returning tomorrow. I have other things to attend to for the funeral. I'll return on Motday.” I nodded again as Brokil trudged around me and down the hill. I rubbed my head as I tried to consider what I'd say to Dexter to calm him down. “How can I possibly begin to console him? He needs time, that’s for sure, but time isn't something either of us has right now. The next few days give us an opportunity, but he still needs time to grieve. Maybe after the funeral. Yeah, that might be an opportune time.” I turned to Bulak as I realized I was getting lost in my thoughts. She was still crouched slightly in her combat stance, waiting for me to say something.
I let out a sigh as I rubbed my head and resigned myself to comforting Dexter. “I think we should call it a day,” I said. “I need some time to calm Dexter down.”
Bulak nodded as she straightened. “I think that is the best course of action.” She affirmed. “Emotion can be a potent fuel, but without direction, you just end up stumbling in the dark.”
I nodded at that last piece of philosophy. “I just hope I know what to say,” I voiced. “You can't exactly reason with someone running on emotions.”
Bulak nodded again. “I am certain the right words will come to you.” She assured me. “If what I heard from Kagan is true, you have a way of convincing others of your perspective.” I nodded slightly, grinning at the memory of our first day in Snakhagr. I looked at Bulak as she motioned down the hill. “As for me, I have my own matters to attend to tomorrow.” She added. She gave me a small half-smile as she turned to me. “Spend tomorrow how you wish. Though, I advise against leaving the barn. There is still animosity towards the two of you.”
I nodded again, grinning softly at her concern. “Thanks for the advice. I'm sure we'll find something to do tomorrow.” Bulak nodded again as she waved goodbye. I turned to the barn as I continued to piece together a plan of action. “No point in waiting it out.” I thought before walking towards the door. If he's allowed to stew he might come to the wrong conclusions, and then it might be impossible to change his mind.”
I pulled open the barn door to confront Dexter about his behavior. Inside, I saw the office chair floating a few feet off the ground, spinning wildly. Dexter was standing next to it, glaring at it angrily. His clenched fist was directed towards it in a feeble attempt to stop the motion. I furrowed my brow as I saw the sweat coating Dexter’s head. “I thought you said you were out of energy from sparring,” I said accusingly.
Dexter didn't so much as glance at me as he responded. “I found more.” He growled. “What does it matter to you anyway? The barrier spell is still fucking useless. If the payoff for protection is memory loss, then I'm going to find a more productive way to use my energy.”
I shook my head slightly. “You don't understand.” I sighed. “He was trying to teach us a lesson. We were burning through spells like they were nothing. We needed to slow down and actually learn from them.” Dexter turned to me.
“You're Taking His Side?” He asked angrily. “He Just Wasted Days Of Our Time. Whatever He Wanted Us To Learn He Could've Just Told Us. We Don't Need Life Lesson Style Bullshit To Take In New Information.”
I felt my face turn into a scowl as Dexter bellowed at me. “Yes, I'm taking his side.” I retorted angrily. “Because he's seen what magic can and can't do. You can't just reject help from people with decades of knowledge and experience. If he thinks we need to learn this lesson, then we need to learn this lesson.”
Dexter threw his hands in the air, exasperated, and let the spinning office chair fall to the floor. It rattled as it hit the ground and slowly stopped spinning. “Then Why Not Just Tell Us?” Dexter asked again. “What Could Possibly Be So Mind Shattering That We Need To Learn It By Training With A Useless Barrier Spell?”
I gestured wildly as I defended Brokil’s ploy. “How about the fact that a spell can be flawed?” I asked angrily. “What about the fact that a lack of knowledge created a spell like that? On top of the fact that not all spells are as easy as Levitate or Illuminate. Apparently, the barrier spells that are worth learning take a long time to learn.”
Dexter growled as he turned to an open chair and moved to sit in it. “Then why bother with this spell?” He asked angrily. “Why not just tell us the facts we need to know instead of this roundabout bullshit? If we need to take something to heart, then he should have just told us. We're not stupid, not me at least.” I felt my jaw clench at that last comment. I strode quickly over to Dexter as I glared at him. “What are y-”
I interrupted him with a sharp slap to the face. His face quickly turned in response to the slap and a red handprint appeared on the side of his face. “How Dare You.” I cried angrily. “How Dare You Say That To My Face. How Dare You Even Have A Notion Like That, After Everything I Did For You. I Sewed Your Fucking Stomach Shut! And You Have The Audacity To Call Me Stupid?” Dexter was silent as I berated his actions. “What Has Possessed You That You're Now Acting Like A Moronic Overgrown Child?” He turned back to me sharply at that last remark. I flinched as I saw a fire burn in his eyes. He scowled at me as he stood up, giving me a harsh reminder of the difference in strength between the two of us. I took a small step back as I continued to stare at him, trying my best to seem intimidating. Dexter stared at me for a minute, then slowly started to clench up, his head tilting to the side as he continued to glare at me. His hands deliberately curled into fists. His jaw gradually hardened in his scowl. His head tilted and his neck seemed to flex as I heard several joints popping. Words couldn't describe the unease I felt as I watched Dexter in this state of rage. It was like watching a fuse on a stick of dynamite slowly be eaten by a flame as you waited for the rod to finally explode. His eyes clenched shut and his fists rose slightly as he inhaled sharply through his nose. His forearms now displayed every curve of his muscles, merely hinting at the power that lay beneath. I took half a step back as I waited for his retaliation. Suddenly, the tension within Dexterchange. His demeanor quickly relaxed as he let out a long breath and unclenched his fists. He appeared to enter a state of zen as his face relaxed out of a scowl and his head straightened on his neck.
He let out another breath before gesturing calmingly, possibly to himself. “You're right.” He said calmingly. “You're right. You're right. You're right.” He seemed to be trying to calm himself more than he was trying to calm me. “That was uncalled for. I shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me. I'm sorry.” He finally opened his eyes again. They no longer held the rage that burned inside him a moment ago. They were calm and calculating, like a gorilla scanning its surroundings. “Another one-eighty, D.I.D. is starting to look more and more possible. Is this one of his personalities?” “Can you forgive me?” He asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I considered the question for a moment, then hesitantly nodded. “You'll still need to apologize to Brokil,” I remarked. “He wasn't too happy when you slammed the door in his face.”
Dexter nodded as he rubbed his head. “In retrospect, that was a bad move.” He replied. “He was just trying to help, and I was just being selfish. Hopefully, I didn't screw things up too bad. I still need to learn about magic.”
I nodded in agreement. “Brokil threatened to quit,” I replied. “I was able to convince him to stay, but you should tread carefully around him for now.”
Dexter nodded again, his left eye briefly twitching before relaxing again. “Thank you for that.” He sighed. “I'll try to keep a level head when he comes by tomorrow.”
I shook my head. “He's not coming tomorrow,” I explained. “Neither is Bulak. Apparently, they have things to do for the funeral.” I briefly saw Dexter's jaw clench and his left-hand curl into a fist, but almost as quickly he relaxed again.
Dexter nodded as he swallowed and cleared his throat. “Okay.” He said in his calming tone. “It's okay. It'll be good to rest up for the funeral. It gives me time to search through my stuff for something better than a T-shirt and jeans.” He glanced at me. “I don't know what to do with your situation. I don't exactly have a dress for you to wear.” I glanced down at Dexter's oversized shirt. I could faintly see the outline of the undershirt beneath it.
I shrugged, folding my arms in front of me as I gently hugged them. “I'll probably just use the dress that bastard elf gave me. At least I’ll get some meaningful use out of it. I doubt the orcs have anything resembling our idea of funeral attire anyway.”
Dexter nodded again, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Good point.” He said, glancing over at the spellbook. “For now, we should try and explore the limits of Levitate. If our ability to create spells is tied to our understanding of others, we should learn as much as possible.”
I nodded, turning to where the spellbook lay. “Good idea,” I affirmed. “We should find out the rules of spells before we start making our own.”
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Varias contos de histórias onde os protagonistas ser tornaram vilões ou quase isso
8 174God Of The Arts
Vote For GOTA on TopWebFiction Tags: World Building, Third Person Omniscent POV, Bits of Humor and much more to come. Blurb For The Series The plagued young noble of the Aurum bloodline is tossed into the politics of his homeland. What starts as a path to revenge grows ever brighter, ever vivid into a path to the peak. Through time and Fate's interweaving fingers he experiences all life has to offer as he reaches for beyond the skies, the enigma known as life unraveling at every stroke of his brush. The vastness of the cosmos is unparalleled, but every treasure has misfortune within. Can Mona Aurum make use of his personal twist of fate to become much more than anyone ever envisioned and become a God? Watch as this piece of art is created, one dab of paint, one change of brush, one coating at a time. Current Book Summary Book 2: ?With their new statuses as noble servants Mona, Reithar, and the Varlier brothers are assured a life with little difficulty and excellent opportunities. Word spreads of the young master of the Faulkner family and how he had taken Mona Aurum for his own, bringing envy and suspicion on Eric Faulkner. Gryfor, on the other hand, is forgotten by the public, charged with crimes Parsmir works to erase. But when the accused committed such an act as Lifeblood refining, evading a sentence is difficult indeed. ??Unsure of which method to take, the Merister royal family finds itself desiring the last Aurum descendant without offending the future head of Faulkner. To do so, the Duke of Wessor joins in the fray, hoping to profit in turn. Meanwhile, between the two generations of Faulkner, the rift between father and son only continues to grow. Just what did Rigor do to his wife, only few can tell. ??His Lunar Mark beginning to show its true worth, Mona makes use of this chance to fully explore this treasure. His skill in Aura rising and his stability in Alberdos assured, Mona remains alert of the ever nearing grasp of the Merister Emperor. His desire for vengeance only continues to grow. Author's Note I am currently writing GOTA Book 2: Royal Deception. For all my fans and followers, here is the update of the story. Anywho, do rate this story, comment. I have a Patreon to those willing to contribute to support me as a writer. The God Of The Arts Website will have each book's summary posted there, among other things. I hope you enjoy this story of mine. Thanks again for reading this everchanging story line. Signed, OmegaAlphaTau Friday, December 21, 2016 Licensing This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
8 129Anomaly
A boy with no heart. A girl with no smile. A man who never sleeps. An elf stuck in trance.A dwarf forever cursed.A demon hopeless. A seeker with power.They are anomalies. They are beings who should not exist. Yet, they continue to live on. Without purpose. Without happiness. Without meaning. Alurca, a continent devastated by war and strife, contains many races that are in constant turmoil. Within these races, the anomalies defy their fate. Blessed or cursed with power, they alone hold the power to change the fate of Alurca.They search for a reason to live. Driven by their desires, they are drawn towards each other.The moment they meet will be recorded in history.The moment they find others that can understand.That can sympathize.That can connect.The moment everything seems alright.They will be hunted down.Their own will to live will be matched against the hatred of entire races. And so it begins.The story of races consumed by their own hatred.The story of anomalies brought together by their own power.The story of desperation and a search for a purpose to live.
8 141Lost Memory
❝ Although he may forget me, I'll still stay with you. ❞《 CHONGYUN + XINGQIU 》
8 201Sitting Under a Torn Umbrella
Man is for man - this is an old slogan today. It has lost its uniqueness for the cause of self-centred mentality. Now we cannot hear the chorus songs of unity. Rather the sound of cacophony always do disturb our hearing organ by imposing acute disparity. We don't fly the flag of harmony, uncompromising corrupted selfish hands try to disconnect the rope of the flying flag to take undue advantage. Human being lacks of humane quality. Strangulation of faith is seen here and there. We are losing hope day by day. The act of deflowering is an art. The dignity of woman is mercilessly crushing under the wheel of gender inequality. Filial piety sinks into the ocean of disbelief. Every moment we do feel pangs of neglect sitting under a torn umbrella.
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