Book 2 Chapter 42: More Challenges

Tristan

A blue light embraced them all, and Tristan felt his body sucked into a portal. The sensation felt like flying, a bit dizzying, and Tristan closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them, they had landed on a beautiful lawn, under a warm sun and a pleasant breeze, with scents of hay and linden wafting from nearby trees. They were inside the Royal Park. The Colosseum was a few hundred yards away. Bathed by the light, it looked the same yet somehow different. More peaceful. A relaxing sensation, like in a normal park. There was a difference not only in the lighting, but also in the air; an absence of violent mind magic.

On the other hand, as soon as he focused on on his immediate surroundings, he noticed two other groups nearby; they faced each other, and plenty of murderous vibes came from them. Sam, Sensibility, her parents, and Dorian made up the first group on the right. The other, facing them, was constituted by the Elven Queen, Cedric, Juniper, and Vaelzryth. They were yelling at each other, all loudly and at the same time; Tristan couldn't distinguish anything from what they were shouting. However, the body language told the species apart. The elves—except Cedric—were keeping their bodies straight, arms crossed, while Sam and Cedric were gesticulating vividly.

Farther away on the lawn was the delegation that had come with them from Earth, and it seemed complete. There were the movie crews, the rich people, and the few adventurers that had not come with them to the Tower. Eliza rushed toward the latter group, tucking herself at Saint Georges' chest. The knight kissed her hair.

Love is blind, and they're both severely impaired… Tristan thought philosophically. He could imagine them complaining about their hips to each other, in a few years. Nevertheless, the priority was identifying the object of the quarrel. Tristan approached the arguing groups, followed by Isolde.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Maybe the calm in his voice made the crowd relent, or maybe they were tired, but they lowered their voices and turned toward him.

"Samuel tricked us into thinking we were negotiating my passage to the Inner Sanctum. Instead, he stalled so you could murder a beautiful creature of nature," the Queen hissed, squeezing the staff in her hand so hard her knuckles went white.

She means the Slime? Please! I know elves are crazy about animals, but this is too much!

"The Slime's rise was anything but natural," Tristan said. "It was an evil monster, and if it had its way, all this city would have been destroyed."

"Exactly!" the Queen said, clenching her teeth. "This city is an abomination."

"What's done is done," Cedric pleaded. "There's no need for—"

"I decide that," the Queen snapped. "You think I need the Slime to obliterate this city? You think you can stop me, even with a bunch of champions on your side? You're mistaken! Landscaping!"

Yelling the last word, she raised the staff in the air. The artifact started shining brightly. It was a good cue for Tristan, who tried to activate Dark Void. To his surprise, he failed; the staff kept glowing, and the light intensified, focusing on its tip. The ground began trembling.

Fuck… I should have cast it preemptively.

[Sam]: What's she doing?

[Aldric]: The same thing she did for the enclave on the Realm, but much faster. She's constructing a pocket universe of her own. I can't be sure, but my best guess is she will trap the city in it and burrow it into the ground. I'm trying to stabilize the area we're in, but can't promise it will work. She's much stronger, and that artifact is increasing her powers by at least one order of magnitude.

[Sam]: C'mon! We must be able to do something. Anyone have any idea how to stop her?

[Aldric]: Back in the enclave, once the channeling began, the spell became uninterruptible.

Tristan was skeptical by nature, so he thrust his spear at the queen nevertheless. The weapon hit a wall; the yet unfinished spell was creating a protective field. Summoning the Dark Void failed again. He felt something was messing with his magic, making the triggering of his ability impossible.

[Tristan]: How much time before she finishes? We should consider running, guys.

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[Aldric]: Minutes, hopefully plural.

"Stop!" Cedric yelled, grabbing the staff with both hands. He was the only one inside the force field, besides the queen.

"You think you can stop me, child? You don't even fathom the power of this artifact," she yelled, yanking back the artifact, closer to her body. Filaments of electricity sprouted from the staff's upper part, hitting Cedric hard.

Cedric wobbled and fell to his knees. Tristan realized the teenager was on his last legs. Vaelzryth and Juniper were now yelling at their mother, begging her to stop. The Queen was now laughing a mad, evil laugh, like all the typical villains in the outworlders' movies.

All of a sudden, loud music burst from behind. Someone was singing. A shadow fell on Tristan and made him raise his head. Koshchei stood next to him, and Iron Choir was in the cockpit, projecting his four voices through the Gundam's speakers. The song was deep and rough, with a catchy but not-soppy melody. Cedric raised his head, rejuvenated, and started to pull himself up. He was trying to regain control of the artifact, shouting verses in that fake language he knew from the fantasy books.

[Tristan]: Nice! What did you do?

[Koshchei]: I played The Hobbit, Misty Mountains theme; it will buff him up. Sam's idea. Magic is how our mind shapes Mana, after all.

Why would a hobbit theme buff up an elf? Tristan wondered, but despite his doubts, the idea seemed to be working. The light atop the staff stopped increasing, and even dimmed a little. It was the woman's turn to wobble and choke.

With a visible effort, the Queen straightened and yelled a single word, a curse or something of the sort, and Cedric fell to his knees again. Behind, most champions were already putting some distance between them and the fight, preparing to vacate the premises. To her credit, Ariel the archer shot one of her new arrows at the Queen, but it got disintegrated by the force field. Cursing, she used a movement skill and ran away.

I have to do something, or the kid's done. And us with him. Well… if a song worked, how about a motivational discourse, right?

"Fight on, Cedric!" Tristan yelled. "I believe in you. We all do. You're a great team member. The best. You always worked hard, without complaining, and kept the band together. If someone has an Elven soul, it's you, not her. Take the staff from her, show them who's the better elf!"

A bit repetitive, but I'm under pressure here…

"You're right!" Cedric yelled, rising to his feet with a jerk. "You're not worthy to call yourselves elves. You're worse than Sauron. Crazy and greedy, evil cannibals. You shall not pass!" he screamed the last words, his eyes bulging with righteous indignation.

A burst of wind erupted inside the forcefield, spun the two around like a tornado, then disappeared. For a moment, Cedric almost snatched the staff out of the Queen's hands, then she screamed and resisted. The wrestle recommenced; the two continued to pull on the staff in different directions.

Something slapped Tristan's face just when he was prepared to retreat: a wing. Isolde changed, becoming bigger and, if Tristan was honest with himself, frightening. Plunging her left hand's talons into the light wall, she managed to claw an opening, then passed her right arm through, despite her skin sizzling, and grabbed the staff as well.

"Truth be told!" she screamed.

A bright flash blinded Tristan, and he fell on his back, shoved by a shock wave. There was a weird sensation, like he was made of puzzle pieces that were trying to recompose themselves into one big picture. Into his true self.

It took minutes to regain his sight and for the ringing in his ears to cease. When he did manage to focus and got up, the Queen lay on her back, her eyes staring into nothingness.

Probably dead, Tristan thought. But from what? She has no visible wound…

Cedric panted, his eyes wide. The teenager's appearance had changed into something much more human, with true blonde hair, pointy ears, and normal skin, though his prominent square jaw remained. The staff in his hand was slowly turning into ashes, starting at the bottom, and the specks were falling onto the Queen's body with cinematic speed.

Vaelzryth and Juniper came forward, wobbling and looking shaken.

"What have you done?" the girl asked in a low voice, grabbing Cedric's arm.

"I don't know, I swear," Cedric said. "I have no idea what happened."

"It wasn't him, it was me," Isolde said. She had also changed back to her normal self. "She didn't give me a choice…"

"What are you talking about?" Tristan asked.

"Cedric's words were true. The elves' behavior was anything but elven. I accessed the Zeitgest, the Realm's Mana Memory, and told it how real elves should be."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Koshchei blurted. "You accessed the essence of Magic? The core? The—"

"Let her speak, idiot!" Tristan yelled.

"It's like he says. I accessed the Mana field of this planet and changed the code. It devolved their species. Now it's Pseudoelphus Silvanensis and Urbanensis. It means—"

"I know Latin. False Wood Elves and False Town Elves," Tristan said.

"Hacking a whole magic system and changing the code?" Dorian said.

"That's what she just said, dude. C'mon!"

"It's not a hack if it's true," Isolde said. "Their powers are all but gone."

"She wasn't able to sustain the Mana needed for her spell, then, and she was consumed?" Cedric asked.

"Bingo," Sam said. "Now that I think back, I felt the Mana discharge that disintegrated her. It was like a—"

"Maybe it's not the best moment." Tristan touched his arm, looking at Juniper, who was in tears

Isolde pursed her lips, a short shiver passing through her body. "In conclusion, the town is safe. That's the good news."

"Do I want to hear the bad ones?" Tristan asked, anticipating something au par with the good news, but on the opposite pole.

Isolde nodded. "The bad news is that all the things they’ve done—the portals, the enclave— will unravel. Magic… I mean the same Mana passes through all the realms that have ever interacted through portals."

"Uh," Tristan grimaced. "So we have to move fast." Focusing on the few former elves around, he noticed their Mana signature was dwindling fast.

"How much time?" Sam blurted.

Isolde turned her palms up. "With luck, a few hours."