Millennial Mage

Tala felt odd, luxuriating in her tub, coffee in one hand pastry in the other.

The allied forces were regrouping and recovering from the expenditures of the brutal fights over the last days, and she was no exception.

Even discounting all the power that had been used by Lisa in the forging of pacts with Walden, and the new drain that was that self-same immortal elk, she’d expended a lot of power through her own efforts and that of her Talons.

Her gate was wide open and as her body was topped off with all it could hold—even with the iron reinforcing, containing, and ‘pressure cooking’ her in power—it was all flowing into her nearby expanded spaces.

As usual, she and Alat were maintaining places of various gradients of power for training and other purposes. Now, they were having to artificially prop up some zones, depressing the density in far-flung regions or deep underground where the lack wouldn’t negatively affect anything of note.

With that handled, she was simply backfilling as quickly as she was able, so that they could go into the next fight as ready as possible, with her Talons and other assets fully supplied as needed as well.

What did that mean for her in that moment?

Well…she wasn’t supposed to exert herself in any way.

Any use of power would slow down the recovery rate, and she was one of the few bottlenecks.

Even so, that had been taken into account. And because they weren’t on the tightest of timelines, others were making the most of the delay.

Anatalis and the Pack, for instance, were coming from the northern forest at a more sedate pace, not wasting any power or effort to arrive before they were needed.

Apparently, a few of the Pack were even coming from the Great White North… which had all sorts of implications that Tala simply wasn’t capable of fully grasping.

From what little she understood, Vidarra was somehow bridging the claimed regions to the wolves who should have been all but shackled to them, allowing the god-beasts to come south for this clash.

Truly, the unity of Anatalis and Vidarra allowed for some terrifying possibilities.

Broken…

-Says the Iron Matriarch? I’d love to chat with you about a certain forest.-

…Fair.

As to what Alat meant, Walden’s expanse was already starting to chew its way outward to the tune of roughly one cubic inch per hour.

The Doman-Imithe behind where the sanctum was anchored was thinning, becoming less chaotic from what Lisa was reporting. Soon, it would become like the region around the escarpment, completely non-existent.

It wasn’t a fast process by any means, but to be fair, Walden wasn’t actively pushing it at the moment. This expansion simply came from the endingtree perimeter ‘thinning’ the edges of existence within the sphere while ‘locking together’ the same area.

On the superficial, it didn’t do more than slightly speed up the healing of rents and abrasions in the nearby fabric of reality—which, incidentally, explained why caravans often went close to endingtrees on their various routes. With the effect applied stoneward, however? It caused the exterior of the sphere to be ‘sticky’ where it hung in the void.

It was like hot glass rolling in sand. It picked up the new particles and incorporated them layer by layer. In this case, it was the power and authority within that pushed outward rather than compressed air, but the analogy was a surprisingly apt one.

When Walden had power and authority to spare? It would likely be a good deal faster.

Still, Tala would be surprised if that expansion would amount to more than a couple of miles a year, but as Walden grew on the superficial, he’d be able to grow stone- and starward as well. She would ensure that when she stitched his domain into Zeme-proper.

But such thoughts were for later—likely the opening moves of the next clash, but still not now—and so Tala simply relaxed, mind almost entirely devoted to maintaining void-channels to increase her throughput.

It was practically meditation.

…She’d rather be hitting something.

She took a deep pull of coffee, then had some pastry and more coffee.

…She still wanted to hit something.

-We might have a problem.-

Just a bit. Still, I’d rather be a soldier than a gardener.

-Yeah… that makes it worse. You know that right?-

I think history is on my side.

-...Fair.-

Tala sighed, falling deeper into a meditative state within her own mind and self.

Since she’d incorporated Kit into herself, she’d lost the restriction on the number of distinct spaces she could create, though most of the other limitations remained in one form or another.

As a result, she had a bit of a cloud of little pockets for various purposes.

A few were gravity donuts, filled with projectiles whipping around a central axis at—quite frankly—ludicrous speeds.

Some contained ancient trees that she’d rescued from the forest hold that she’d fought a Black Legion Commander in back in Platoiri. She still hadn’t decided what to do with most of them. Alat’s initial overtures to the Guild that ran that hold had been met with gratitude and deference, the trees granted to her as a gift for her role as Eskau of War.

She didn’t feel right planting them even so. Some were quite literally hundreds of years old and time was one thing that power and wealth had a hard time replicating, at least quickly.

Tala played with the idea of adding them to Walden’s forest, but quite honestly? They’d be among the youngest trees there, endingtrees excluded. The elk had been within his domain for uncounted years, and a few centuries were nothing to his mind and power.

So, she was left with trees that were too valuable to use carelessly, but not potent enough to be truly useful.

They were like a sentimental heirloom with no purpose.

Regardless, she obviously also had the sanctum and Ironhold, those were the bulk of her expanded dimensionality.

There were also the rampart dimensions, where the various modular pieces of her fortifications were kept, ready for quick deployment. She’d been excited to use them in the upcoming Leshkin War, but they’d already proven quite useful in this conflict instead.

Replacing the Leshkin War in more ways than one.

-Yup, that’s what matters, what toys you can make use of.-

…I don’t like you.

-Oh, drink coffee and rest. We need more power, and you’re our battery… unless you want to advance? That would be a nice top-off to all parts of your being.-

Ha, no. I don’t see myself Ascending anytime soon. She sighed. Tala vaguely felt like she’d be letting people down if she didn’t advance, but she honestly didn’t feel quite ready. Maybe in another decade or two… She had time.

Rane was out helping to marshal their forces, imparting bits of knowledge, and generally helping ensure their fighters were ready for the coming clash.

The fight would be one of god-beasts and Sovereigns, yet the arcanes and Archons would still have quite the role to play. The Black Legion would still be on the field, and due to how authority worked, the ‘pawns’ could have quite the outsized effect when unified under greater powers.

From the sounds of it, the Forest Spirit would have at least five arch-beasts at his side, so they were planning for ten. There were going to be in the realm of ten to twenty senior commanders, and then the supreme commander, or whatever he was called. Hopefully, the Legion’s increased numbers didn’t allow for more than one of him or anything else above senior commander.

On the allied side, they had four Reforged, two non-acknowledged Hallowed, and six Revered, along with Anatalis and two other Pack god-beasts. There should also be a handful of wolf arch-beasts and Walden.

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She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The Talons were another odd case, as they fought with Reforged level power, but that power was expressed almost entirely physically. Then there were the Pillars and Eskau from the various Houses who’d been able to be spared for this campaign, and they were countered by captains and commanders of the Legion.

But that was the upper echelon. There were thousands of ‘lessers’ on each side, and that muddied the waters quite a bit.

She was spiraling, thinking on things she already knew, things that were already handled, things that weren’t worth her mental space.

With another deep breath, she banished them and faced what she’d been trying to avoid.

Eskau De-arg was gone.

She saw him in her mind’s eye, her perfect memory bringing up the little bear-kin’s face, mannerisms, and voice with utter ease.

Her friend was gone.

He’d promised to help them in a moment of need, and boy had he delivered.

That thought reminded her of their last interaction.

Had he known even then? Had he already gathered the truths, the knowledge, the conceptual weight to seize Sovereignty that far back?

If so, he’d waited on the cusp of his life’s goal, holding himself back until he was truly needed.

It was also possible that the information she’d sent his way from the encounter with the Forest Spirit had provided the last bits.

The second made her feel better about herself, and the first made her think better of him.

She would assume the first.

He deserved that much at the very least.

All across allied territory, they were still finding little things that he’d somehow accomplished in that singular moment of glory, and they likely would continue to do so for… who knew how long?

Likely citizens of Zeme would still be coming across things he nudged long after all memory of him was faded.

He’d achieved his perfect moment, and Tala wouldn’t allow that to be for naught.

She would take the gift he’d given—the second chance he’d secured—and win through.

“This isn’t working…”

Her mind was spinning, and she was actually starting to struggle to maintain focus on her void-channels, despite that making absolutely no sense.

She willed herself out and beside the tub, all the water staying behind, leaving her warm and refreshed but not dripping after the bath.

Her clothing grew back around her, and Tala stretched up and back. Then, she twisted.

The motions were unnecessary, but they felt good on some visceral level that was hard to quantify.

Tala definitely preferred moving to lounging, especially when her mind was wont to wander.

With a small chuckle, she willed herself to the training circle, a stone space surrounded by moving water that she’d not used in what felt like years.

As a Reforged, she was in full command over herself, and therefore exercise really wasn’t that useful.

Sure, it could provide utility if she was changing something and needed to help reset her reactions and muscle memories, but beyond that?

Useless.

Or so she’d largely thought.

Oh, she’d still sparred when she could—practice for combat was almost always useful if approached properly—but simple exercise? She’d dropped the practice.

With little thought, Tala dropped into pushups, falling into her old routine of body-weight movements, stretches, and increasingly difficult holds.

It was surprisingly relaxing and—once again—meditative, pairing well with her continued use of void-channels.

She might have worked up a sweat, but any such perspiration was instantly whisked away, her body’s temperature automatically regulated by her authority over it and her will to simply continue.

The movements didn’t really make her sore, but that wasn’t the point.

There was peace in the simple kinesthetics of proper physical movement, and she sought peace.

Eskau De-arg’s passing was, in a way, so like Master Girt’s so many years earlier.

Both had been friends that she’d not known nearly as well as she’d have liked to, and both had knowingly sacrificed themselves to save others.

Both had been good men.

Tala shifted forward, moving to balance only on her hands, her body ram-rod straight and perfectly horizontal as she continued to do pushups.

It was funny, Master Girt had died protecting Rane and keeping his promise to her. Eskau De-arg had passed, saving them all.

Master Girt had wanted to die, to go be with his wife, but he’d stuck around to fulfill his duties until his duties allowed him to pass on with honor.

Eskau De-arg had been pursuing Sovereignty, and his passing came at a similar realization of a core desire.

They were so different, yet so similar.

…And this wasn’t working to keep her distracted.

She shifted to more strenuous movements, but it didn’t help.

Tala effectively couldn’t wear out her physical body so long as she had any will remaining.

With a sigh, she flipped up, landing lightly on her feet.

Food. She should eat some food.

The next moment, she was in the dining room, eyes locked on the family portrait.

Two figures jumped out to her.

Illie.

Her father.

Both gone, neither forgotten, but in this case, her emotions around each were entirely different.

No. She turned away from the large painting, even though she could still perceive it, still feel the mix of aura’s coming from her family members depicted there.

As she took a seat—oriented to look out the massive windows over the rolling hills and forests of her sanctum—food appeared at her will.

Tala was feeling desserts today, and the selection she’d summoned reflected that.

Kedva wasn’t really a baker or pastry chef, but she still did good work, and the selection of magic infused treats reflected that.

Puddings—from vanilla through various berries and on to swirling mixes of flavors that complimented and acted as counterpoints to one another—cookies of all kinds, cakes in myriad forms, and sliced fruit and heavy cream on the side.

It was a spread that any child could only dream of, and one that would make that same child sick before they’d eaten half.

Tala set to with a slow dedication and intention of enjoying each bite.

A cup of water was ready to hand to help her clear her palate between dishes, and she often rotated what she was enjoying before she’d finished any one fully.

She was about halfway through—her mouth filled with a particularly large bite of almond cookie—when Lea appeared beside the table.

Tala’s eyes widened, her cheeks slightly overstuffed.

Lea’s eyebrows rose in clear surprise.

Tala generated her voice as she tried to finish chewing. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Her daughter’s face broke out in a wide grin. “Really, Mom? Because it looks like you are devouring an entire sweet shop to keep from thinking about what’s bothering you.”

Tala narrowed her eyes. “Alat?”

“Momma might have said something.”

She swallowed and sighed. “Traitor.”

“-Love you, too.-”

Lea cleared her throat. “So… Is there a reason you’re trying to set dear Kedva’s sweet baking back by a week?” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait… There was a lot more on this table. You’ve set her back by at least a month.”

Tala glowered. “I don’t eat sweets that often. I’m entitled on occasion.”

The girl huffed. “Likely story.” She pulled up a chair. “I’m joining you.”

Tala only glowered for a moment before she sighed and gave a sad smile. “You know what? I’d like that.”

Even as Tala removed a section of the treats, making room, Lea willed her own spread into being before her, along with tea.

Traitor…

Then, the girl just smiled. “So? What’s going on?”

Tala shrugged. “How much do you remember of my first stint as Eskau of the House of Blood?”

They both knew, but as with so many interactions with Alat, it was the act of expressing that had meaning, so they’d maintain a polite fiction. Lea shrugged. “You’ve spoken about much of it, but not all. Is this about Eskau De-arg?”

Tala nodded. “Yes. You see, when I first went to Croi…”

And so she told her daughter the story. She spoke of an irritating little beast-kin who had been obsessed with balance, and who had taught Tala more than she’d realized at the time. More, in fact, than she’d realized for years after.

Lea asked few questions, allowing her Mom to just talk, to just unburden her mind and let her emotions flow.

When they hit a pause, Tala regarded her daughter contemplatively. “You know what? You’re Refined.”

Lea gave her a flat look. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Tala blew a laugh out her nose. “I know, I know. I mean, you are Refined. I can chat with you about Paragon things now without it harming you.”

That got Lea’s attention, the girl straightening in her chair.

The young woman, now. Tala had to remember that. “To be a Paragon, is to have an eternal perspective, to see things as they are in light of time and eternity, not how we wish them to be, nor how they seem in the moment.” She grunted at that. “I think that might be one reason why Eskau De-arg’s choice, his revelation, his Sovereignty is so… foreign to me. I’ve shifted to thinking about long timespans, and he was all about the now.”

She fell into silence for a long moment before Lea cleared her throat.

Tala jumped, blinking a few times and refocusing. “Hmm?”

“You were talking about being a Paragon? Thinking in longer timescales, all that.”

“Right, right.” Tala nodded, then paused to grab a lemon square, taking a moment to simply enjoy it before continuing. “So, I’m sure you’ve been told this before, but that’s just the foundation. What you really need, what you truly have to discover, is who you are in light of eternity, in light of history, in the grand scheme of things.”

Lea frowned. “I have to know who I want to be forever?”

Tala waved that off before snatching up a pecan tart. “No, no. Not who you want to be, who you are. Once you’ve discovered that, you can shift it, but that comes later. You need to figure out where your place in Zeme is. At that moment, you will advance.”

“Simple as that?” Lea raised one eyebrow.

Tala popped the tart in her mouth, talking around the food. “Yes. Simple as that, but…?”

Lea sighed at Tala’s leading tone. “But simple doesn’t mean easy…”

Tala grinned. “Exactly.”

They discussion wandered from there, and the two women simply took time to be together.

As it turned out, a good heart-to-heart—along with returning to the simple act of helping her daughter—did Tala more good than all the treats she could eat.

Who could have known?

Thank you.

-Of course.-