Mia ran her gaze over the ritual circle carved into the floor, her gem-like azure eyes tracing the gentle curves, the sharp angles and the neat little runes nestled between them. It wasn’t truly the shapes she was tracing, not mere lines carved into stone, but the way the mana would flow once the ritual was put to use.
The final ritual circle looked almost artistic, less like the previous ones which resembled something from a high schooler’s geometry practice and more like one of those proper artsy mandalas. It was a curious thing, because this ritual circle was apparently much simpler, though masterfully designed. All spell- and ritual circles were halfway between science and art, but this one … at first glance it was all art, just something a master painter dreamt up to enchant the onlooker — metaphorically — but when one looked a bit deeper was when its creator’s true genius showed. It was a masterpiece both as a piece of art and as a ritual circle. It was neat, efficient and quite potent, not in spite of the artsy flourishes, but because of them.
At least that’s what Nikki claimed, and Mia chose to believe her. She was the equivalent of a high school art student when it came to the artsy part of spellcrafting and, at best, an enthusiastic hobbyist when it came to the more scientific aspects. She didn’t really know enough about these sorts of things to claim a ritual circle was a masterpiece. She could call it pretty, and she could determine that it was functional, had a steady mana flow and looked to be doing what it was supposed to, but that was about it.
It was the difference between looking at a Van Gogh and thinking it's pretty and marveling at the painter’s masterful brushwork, staging techniques and use of colours.
“Where did you even find this thing if it’s so much better than the stuff in the books the System gives out?” Mia asked her brother curiously.
“It’s not particularly guarded; it’s actually a pretty widespread design,” Gabe said with a careless shrug. “I think it’s a combination of the maker spreading it on purpose, and its effect not being dangerous enough for knowledge of it to be restricted. It costs money to buy a copy, but that’s about it.”
“Isn’t this ritual supposed to enhance a divination cantrip that was able to locate me from halfway across the globe?” Mia asked dubiously. “That doesn’t sound like something I’d want every random hedge mage to have if I was an autocrat.”
“It’s still just a nifty little cantrip.” Gabe shrugged. “Even with the ritual, the spell it enhances doesn’t change much beyond the fact that instead of a nudge it will hit any obstructions like a battering ram.”
That was somewhat misleading, since from what Mia understood the ritual would launch what she could only describe as a probe. If the wards were castle walls, then this probe would be a titanium spear launched from a rail-cannon. It would hit quick and hard, blow through the passive wards, and then pull back in that same instant before the wards repaired themselves or active defences came online. In that split second where the ‘spear’ was inside, it would cast the cantrip. It would send out a pulse of divination and look for the targets, then store the result as a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
It was basically what happened when someone wondered what the phrase ‘hit and run’ would be like if it was a spell.
“What are the odds of someone tracing it back to us and deciding to express their displeasure personally?” Mia asked, biting her lower lip in worry. What if we are poking a damned Lich or something? What if it gets pissed and decides to see whether it can one-up God and his stunt with the Plagues of Egypt?
“Some,” Gabe admitted with another aggravating shrug. “There is no certainty in life, Mia. Everything comes with a risk. I think this course of action comes with an acceptable amount as far as such things go. The ritual has some built-in countermeasures against that sort of thing, so our hapless hedge mage would have to outclass us all in both skill and Rank, in which case we are pretty much fucked anyway.”
Mia didn’t like it, but Gabe had already tried the softer approach. He had sent three Elementals bearing handwritten letters to look for that supposed lair down beneath the earth. He’d lost contact with them all after they started phasing through the ground and dashing downwards. The last one he’d even felt being destroyed outright, although it might have been a monster and not a reclusive mage growing annoyed by a sudden inflow of nosy elementals.
That quickly led Mia to dismiss the idea of sending anyone there in person to investigate or serve as an envoy of sorts. Gabe’s elementals had all been low Rank 3, so if they failed, it was unlikely some Rank 1 people would fare any better.
The smartest thing to do, most likely, would be to stop and work on getting stronger, much stronger. At least peak Rank 3 at the minimum, but that would take ages, and they wouldn’t have any assurances Mark’s parents would even survive the week, much less months or years.
The ritual would be conducted in the middle of nowhere, kilometres from any nearby towns. The stone slab the circle was carved into was regular concrete, not the best material to use, but one lacking Mark’s lingering mana signature. The fuel would come from mana crystals Gabe harvested from a handful of peak Rank 2 monsters, to once again avoid imbuing the ritual with any of their own mana because, as it turned out, such a thing could be used as a catalyst to divine their location.
None of them other than Gabe would even be there when the ritual was to be done. It would have been pointless to be present anyway, and while Gabe’s wards didn’t really care whether they were hiding only him or a group of people, their presence would have also slowed him down if he needed to beat a hasty retreat for some reason.
Before Mia could come up with another approach, another plan that was less likely to backfire catastrophically, it was time for Gabe to leave. The ritual circle was done, checked over thrice, and the mana crystals that would serve as fuel had all been double-checked then gathered carefully into a bag. There was nothing more to do but go through with the plan.
She stood at the side of the street, arms crossed and face drawn as she watched Gabe levitate the large slab of concrete behind himself. His white-feathered wings snapped forth, spreading wide and with a single flap he was hovering a few metres above the ground, the concrete slab floating behind him, held in the tight grip of a barrier folded around it.
“I should be back within an hour,” Gabe said. “If I’m not … don’t look for me, or try to conduct the ritual yourselves. Be careful.”
With that ominous warning given, he flapped his wings again and shot off into the sky like a missile, quickly turning into a tiny dot against the backdrop of the azure sky. Mia kept staring until she lost track of him entirely, blinked once, and when she failed to find him again, her shoulders slumped, and a long breath left her lungs in a weary sigh.
The smart thing would have been to let the matter rest. Let sleeping dragons lie, or whatnot … but she was a coward. She couldn’t find it in herself to even suggest such a thing when it meant abandoning Mark’s parents to whatever their fates may have been.
So all that was left to do was pray and hope this didn’t blow up in their faces and cost them Gabriel on top of Mark’s parents.. Please come back. I don’t want to lose you again.
Mia stood there for another ten minutes, her gaze fixed on the clear blue sky, her overactive imagination conjuring up phantom images of Gabe fleeing back half-dead, of a giant eldritch beast with a thousand tentacles descending from a tear in the skies to lay waste to the city in revenge for bothering it and then many, many more.
Helene would likely have stopped her, but she was too busy worrying herself, having gone back into the apartment to do something to keep her hands and mind occupied. Mark was pacing somewhere, and Nikki had left after giving an imperious nod at the ritual circle when it was first completed, and Lina had spent the day in her room. Camie was there, lingering like a constipated shadow, but she clearly wasn’t sure what to do to help, and that left Mia alone with her thoughts, which was never good.
Mia paused after a few minutes, huffed in irritation at her own spiralling thoughts then decided that her mother had it right. She needed a distraction, and her eyes settled on Carmilla’s worried, awkwardly fidgeting form. She probably wanted to do something to help, — that much was obvious just by looking at the way she worriedly chewed her lip and from the constipated expression marring her face — but lacking any experience in such things, she was too afraid she’d only make things worse, or something equally silly.
So Mia marched over, practically stomping like a pouty toddler and threw her arms around the taller woman. A hug sounded nice right about then, and it did make her feel better. Her stomach once again did a little flutter as Camie’s powerful yet delicate arms closed around her.
As far as distractions went, it was a good one … although it could be better. So Mia stood on her toes, her lips almost brushing against her girlfriend’s ear. “Let’s go upstairs.”
As lost in her own world as she was, Mia wasn’t so uncouth as to start cuddling — and more — within view of Mark while he was worrying himself sick. She knew how this would have looked, even if she just desperately wanted to occupy her mind with something that wasn’t another novel way in which her life could go horribly wrong in the next two hours and more importantly, how little she could actually do about it. Because the answer was nothing; she could do nothing if this supposed hedge mage turned out to be too much for Gabe to handle.
Mia found she absolutely loathed the feeling. The helplessness, the realisation that she couldn’t do a thing to help, that she was too weak to matter when it might have meant the difference between life and death for her brother. She despised the feeling with all her heart, and promised herself she’d double down on her training from tomorrow.
A gratifying blush spread up Camie’s pale cheeks, and she nodded shyly, which almost made Mia giggle, but she suppressed the urge, turning it into a fond smile. Mark was still well within earshot; she wouldn’t be giggling like an idiot until they were alone.
They quickly disappeared up the staircase, and in a blink the door of Mia’s bedroom clicked shut behind them.
“So … uhm, what- I mean, how can I help?” Carmilla asked awkwardly, and Mia hummed in response, resting her head on the taller girl’s shoulder.
“Just … distract me,” Mia mumbled, then got an idea. “It’s been a while since your last feeding, hasn’t it?”
“Yeeeas?” Camie replied, drawing out the word like she wasn’t sure whether she should be excited or worried.
“Good,” Mia said decisively. “Bed. We’re cuddling until Gabe comes back and you are going to do your best to distract me, ‘kay?”
“Sure.” There was a clear note of fond amusement in the vampiress’ voice now. “Anything you want.”
“Don’t promise something you’re not ready to deliver on,” Mia chastised her, glancing up at Camie with a suggestive, half-lidded look. Then she giggled as Camie lifted her up and carried her over to the bed like a princess, and then they flopped onto the bedding, their limbs a tangled mess. It took some squirming around, but Mia eventually found a comfortable position where she could gaze into Camie’s ruby-like eyes. “Talk to me. You’ve been on a bunch of walks this week. Seen anything interesting?”
Camie hummed thoughtfully, her eyes fluttering about, avoiding gazing into Mia’s eyes for longer than a second or two. Then she started to talk in that melodious, slightly raspy voice of hers that tickled Mia’s brain just right. She wasn’t even sure whether any of the words Camie spoke truly registered in her mind, but she loved listening to her; just the mere sound of her voice was enough to soothe her nerves as it caressed her ears.
She talked about new monsters and magical beasts she’d seen on the city’s outskirts, of the militia training she’d watched a few days ago, of the farming attempts and how an overcharged fertiliser made a ten-foot-tall tomato bush and other little stories. She was describing a squirrel elevated into a magical beast when Mia’s slightly dazed gaze wandered over to the old clock hanging above the doorway.
Azure eyes blinked once, neurons suddenly firing with desperate haste to confirm what her gut was telling her; It’s been more than an hour since Gabe had left. He was late. Just by a mere four minutes as of that moment, but that didn’t change the fact that he was late.
The realisation chilled her heart, and she went still, which Camie noticed instantly and trailed off, looking at her worriedly. Mia buried her face in the soft fabric of the other girl’s shirt and took a deep breath, inhaling the vampire’s calming scent.
“He’s late,” she mumbled, her fingers clutching Camie’s shirt so hard her knuckles turned white.
“Maybe he just didn’t want to interrupt us?” Carmilla suggested hopefully, but the tone of her voice implied she didn’t really believe it either.
Mia slumped; there was nothing she could do. Maybe it was the fact that she was a few mouthfuls of blood lighter than an hour ago, and had some of those deliciously pleasant vampiric drugs coursing through her veins, but she found it much easier to relax. The worry was still there, frothing just under the surface, but her body was no longer a coiled spring ready to snap at a moment’s notice.
“Right,” Mia muttered, letting out a short breath. Her muscles uncoiled as she willed them, but she could do nothing about the way her stomach clenched into a nervous knot. What was she talking about- Ah, squirrels. Magical squirrels … right. “Life’s so weird. Why do magical squirrels even exist?”
Camie blinked slowly at her, maybe at her mood flip-flopping around harder than a weather vane in a hurricane or at the sudden change in topics. Either way, she readjusted and went with the flow, some tension draining out of her as she saw Mia relax.
“I like them, they’re cute.” Camie shrugged shamelessly, while Mia gave her a mock-offended look.
The vampire damn well knew Mia had sworn eternal vengeance upon those bushy-tailed menaces when they kept lobbing nuts at her head on their latest hike. Seeing nothing other than amusement on her girlfriend’s face, Mia gave an exaggerated huff and turned around, facing away from the smiling redhead.
Mia felt Camie’s warm body press against her from behind, arms going around her waist and pulling her in like she was just an overly mobile body pillow. She huffed again, just for the sake of it, then felt a pleasant thrill run down her spine as she felt Camie’s hot breath on her ear.
“But not as cute as you,” Camie whispered, and Mia’s breath caught in her chest; then she flushed and groaned.
“You’re getting annoyingly good at this,” Mia grumbled, still playing at being irritated while Camie let out a musical giggle.
“I wouldn’t be if you didn’t make learning so fun,” she replied, and Mia could practically hear the radiant, beaming smile in the redhead’s voice. “So-“
“Mia, your brother’s back,” Sparkle’s voice echoed in her ears, and they registered in her mind a moment later. “It looks like he’s unharmed, so you may stop worrying.”
Mia closed her eyes for a long few seconds, then let out a deep sigh, finally feeling the knot of unease in her guts untangle itself, unmade by a wash of relief flooding her body.
“Mia?” Camie asked, sounding worried, and Mia felt a jolt of guilt. She’d put the poor girl through a lot with her mercurial mood swings; she’d have to do something nice for her.
“Gabe’s back,” Mia said simply, turning back to give Camie a crushing hug, then she leapt out of the bed. “Thanks for … the last hour.”
There were other things she wanted to tell her, phrases and sentences lingering at the tip of her tongue but refusing to be properly verbalised. Well, the hug would have to do for now to show those stubborn feelings that refused to be put into words. I’ll kiss her silly when we get back. I must have exhausted generations worth of luck meeting this red angel.
By the time Mia and Camie reached the ground floor, Gabriel was already there talking with Mark … who had apparently been standing right where Mia’d left him more than an hour ago.
“-haven’t read it yet, but I didn’t want to take it with me; that thing is almost certain to be a scrying focus, if not a trap,” Gabe said, his eyes quickly darting towards Mia’s swiftly approaching form before settling back on Mark. “I can take you there so you can read it, or I can read it myself and tell you what was inside.”
“What’s up?” Mia asked curiously as she came to a stop beside the two of them, her gaze flickering back and forth between the two men’s faces. “Did it work?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Gabe said slowly, a wry smile forming on his face. “I suppose it technically achieved some of our goals, and probably more, though that’s still up in the air.”
Mia glanced at Mark, trying to see whether he would be more forthcoming, but he seemed lost in thought, his eyes staring at nothing in particular.
“And that means … ?” Mia asked leadingly, hardly in the mood for meaningless chatter.
“The ritual failed, the active defences were up, and they proved more than able to swat the intrusion attempt aside,” Gabe said. “Then … I suppose they somehow traced it back to me, because an instant after the backlash shattered the concrete slab, a thing appeared in the air above me. It handed me a neat little letter, in the same envelope we’d put our first letter in. Then it vanished, and I … kinda panicked, so I layered every ward and barrier I could on the envelope without touching it, then fled with my tail between my legs.”
“A ‘thing’?” Mia repeated dubiously, then her tone grew annoyed as she continued. “And if you fled practically the moment the ritual was cast, why did it take you so long to get back?”
“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t tracked anymore, so I did everything I could to shake off any trace or mark that might have been put on me.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I either succeeded … or I didn’t, in which case there is nothing I can do to remove the trace. Not that I’m even certain there is, or was one. As for the ‘thing’, well, it was probably a projection of some sort? Or maybe a bound elemental like the one I’d sent to deliver the letter? It was strange though; its mana signature wasn’t entirely aligned with a single element. Maybe it was a kind of high-rank summon I’m unfamiliar with? Who knows?”
Mia took a second to process all that, and when she did, she felt an icy jolt of dread race down her spine. They were outclassed by whoever this was, and by the looks of things it wasn’t even close. Gabriel had cast the ritual well beyond the border, a good hundred kilometres into Hungary, and despite that, the projection had appeared there in an instant. That was roughly 700 kilometres from where the lair they were poking was supposedly located, yet that distance proved inconsequential.
But worse than that was the fact that they’d managed to trace the ritual back to Gabe in the first place. They weren’t supposed to be able to do that, and certainly not so swiftly. If it’d taken a few hours, maybe a ritual on their end, if it took some effort at all, then it might have made sense. But it apparently didn’t.
“We’re fucked, aren’t we?” Mia muttered, her voice taking on a forlorn tone.
“A-yup,” Gabe said with a cheery smile, though Mia could both hear and see the grim determination underneath. “But hey, look at the bright side, we are still alive! This could have gone much worse.”
“That’s … depressing.” Mia sighed, though the edge of her lips twitched upwards in amusement. “So! What now?”
“Well, that depends on Mark,” Gabe said, glancing at the dwarf who snapped out of his daze at the sound of his name. “Came to a decision?”
“Take me there,” Mark said, looking determined. “If it really is a scrying beacon or whatnot, I don’t want to endanger the city or expose others to some voyeuristic asshole. But if that letter was written by my parents … I have to see it myself. I know their handwriting.”
There was a colossal amount of brittle hope riding on the ‘if’. Mia hoped everything would work itself out, though she couldn’t help but also imagine a dozen ways in which things could go horribly wrong.
“Just make sure it’s not a letter bomb or something,” Mia muttered, and Gabe gave her a nod.
“I have barriers to defend against that and also against curses and other nasty stuff that could be hidden in an envelope.” Gabe gave her an approving nod. “Although, I doubt someone who could trace the divination to its source and then teleport a summon there would go about killing us in such a roundabout way. I’ll take every precaution, of course, but I doubt it’ll be needed.”
“Okay,” Mia said uncertainly, then huffed. Gabe would know better than her, so she decided to take his word for it. The logic checked out as well, though she was sure she could find an imaginary reason for why someone would go with the cursed letter option despite everything Gabe’s said. “I’ll tell mom you’re still alive or whatever. You’re leaving now, right?”
The two boys shared a glance, then nodded as one. Then Mia was treated to the ridiculous sight of Gabe lifting the grumpy dwarf like a toddler, his arms hooked under Mark’s armpits while the latter’s stubby legs dangled in the air. Then, with a flap of Gabe’s wings, they shot off into the air and swiftly turned into tiny dots in the distance with Mark's panicked shrieks echoing in their wake.