The Immortal Calamity

The fallen soldier was buried with honors in the village cemetery. Some argued we should bring his body with us, but Orias refuted it. Even though we still had empty wagons, for now, we would need that space for when we found the missing soldiers.

After burying the fallen soldier, we left the village behind. There was nothing there for us. There were no supplies we could use, no clues about the missing soldiers, and no survivors. All we could do was keep marching and hope that the next town would be better.

I saw Charly throw a stone at one of the faces in the mist. The face scattered for a moment before reforming. The silent, mocking smile constantly stared down at us. Charly roared and threw another rock, but it was just as pointless as the last one.

“I hate those horrible faces!” Charly shouted.

“Just ignore them,” my father said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Come on, let’s go draw more glyphs in the wagon. You cannot see them in there.”

Charly slumped as all the anger drained out of him. “Dad… Could we have saved him?”

“The soldier was already bitten when we arrived. There was nothing we could do.”

“But we could have searched the town in groups. Maybe… Maybe he would still be alive if we had just been more cautious.”

“And we would have spent three days searching the village. We had no way of knowing something like that was out there. If it had been a normal Demonkin he would have been able to alert other soldiers nearby and delay until they arrived. He was a professional soldier. He knew the risks when we started this mission. All we can do now is learn from our mistakes so that we do not repeat them.”

“What… What if it had been one of us?” Charly whispered.

My father paused for a moment looking over at my mom, then at me. “We were lucky it was not. Or maybe it was unlucky. If he had my protection glyphs, he might have survived the snake’s bite. I will not pretend to know what could have been. I know this mission is dangerous. It might be the most dangerous thing I have ever asked you to do, but we need you now. The soldiers need you now. You are the most talented runesmith I have ever seen. If we want to keep these soldiers alive, your strength is needed.”

“My strength?” Charly looked up at Dad, hesitating for a moment.

“That is right, your strength. We might not have innate talents. Wren may be the immortal Empress reborn, but here and now, you and I are all that keep this family safe.”

Charly squared his shoulders before marching to the wagon. “You are right. We have to work hard so that nobody else dies!”

My father sighed as he watched his son disappear into the wagon. I heard him whisper, “What if it had been one of us?”

I felt a pain in my heart seeing him so unsure of himself when he thought nobody was looking. I could not stand it, so I slapped my dad’s back as hard as I could. “Dad, your glyphs are so much stronger than everyone else’s. Can you show me how you draw them? I want to see.”

“You do?” my dad remarked in surprise, but then narrowed his eyes, “Why? You have never shown any interest before. You told me you do not know anything about runes.”

“I don’t,” I replied with a shrug, “I guess you just have to teach me.”

“I think that is a wonderful idea! I will show you the basics.” His eyes practically sparkled as walked towards the wagon.

I suppressed a chuckle as I followed him into the wagon. If my dad was any more excited, he might have started skipping. Inside, Charly was already getting started on his work. On the nearby bed, I saw Sylvie and Nox. I did not want my dad to waste energy uselessly applying protection glyphs to the only things here that could not be mutated, so I had them stay inside the wagon this entire time. There was not much they could do in this heavy mist anyways.

My dad opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of paper, a fine point brush, and a jar of ink. He pointed to the jar of ink first. “The ink is made from the blood of Demonkin. It conducts energy and empowers the glyphs. You can get similar effects from ink made of certain crushed gems or powdered metal, but Demonkin blood is the best.” I nodded, watching intently as he dipped his brush in the ink. He drew a single curved line on the paper. “When we draw, we are creating pathways for the energy to travel. A simple drawing like this will do nothing but disintegrate the paper, but if you add a second line intersecting the first, interesting things start to happen.”

My father drew the second line, then held the paper up for me to see. I saw a faint purple energy flow through the two lines. When the energy met at the cross point, there was a small explosion of energy, and the paper disintegrated.

“Controlling these small explosions is the key to any glyph. The thickness, length, and curve of the lines all give directions to the energy so that it will act in a certain way. For example, a single circle will create an explosion of energy that spreads in every direction, while a single straight line will direct the energy to a single point. More complicated glyphs will have tens or even hundreds of lines and cross points. You can even layer multiple pieces of paper with runes on top of each other to create more complicated glyphs. The energy has to reach all of these points simultaneously or the whole glyph will fall apart on the first explosion of energy. It takes trial and error to figure out the best flow of energy and how to direct it.”

“So, why can the other soldiers not use your runes?” I asked curiously.

“Just having the finished product does not mean you know how to use it. Not everyone can deduce how a rune works as I can,” my father said, puffing out his chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charly roll his eyes. “To use glyphs properly, you need to send energy into multiple different starting points simultaneously, and the amount of energy you send into each point might also differ. I could teach the soldiers how to do this, but it could take days or even weeks of practice before they get it right. That is why most people capable of using glyphs only have a few they can actually use in the heat of combat. Not many people can memorize the runes and energy pathways for dozens or hundreds of different glyphs and remember them correctly in a high stakes situation.”

I watched quietly as my father drew one of his protection glyphs. Three pieces of paper were completely covered in hundreds of squiggly lines and shapes that meant nothing to me. The entire process took about thirty minutes from start to finish.

I noticed that in the same amount of time, Charly had already finished his first protection glyph and was almost done with a second. It seemed he was not lying when he boasted that he was better than my dad.

Once he finished the rune, my dad continued his lesson. “The biggest differences between someone with an innate talent and someone that uses glyphs is preparation and adaptability. With an innate talent, you are always at your peak. You can get stronger through training sure, but if you only had a few days to prepare for battle, there is little you can do. Meanwhile, people like Charly and me could have created hundreds of glyphs in those same couple of days. When the battle starts, we are only as strong as our preparations. The more glyphs we have, the more impact we have. We can even draw runes to counter and adapt to specific threats. Meanwhile, innate talents are more limited in what they can do, but they are able to react quicker. If you only have minutes to prepare for a battle, innate talents shine since they do not have to prepare. Both have their advantages and disadvantages.”

“Can I try drawing a glyph?” I asked curiously.

“I don’t see why not,” My dad replied with a smile, “Just because you cannot use the runes does not mean you cannot draw them. I will show you a simple glyph, named ignite.”

My dad drew the glyph for me first showing it to me step by step and pointing out places I should take note of. The entire glyph only consisted of thirteen lines and would create a small burst of fire when used.

My first attempt drawing the glyph was a complete failure. The exact word Charly used was atrocity. My second and third attempts were not much better. Keeping the brush strokes the perfect width and length was practically impossible. I did not understand how my dad and Charly could do it. Every time the wagon shook, I ruined another glyph and had to start over. Somehow, they were not bothered by it at all. It made no sense!

I spent the rest of the day trying and failing miserably. I was glad my dad was not stuck in depressing thoughts, but I was not sure it was worth this humiliation. By the time the sun started setting, my hand was cramping horribly.

I looked at the small piece of paper in front of me and smiled. “I did it! This time for sure!”

“You have said that before,” Charly replied with a yawn. He glanced over at my paper and froze. “You… actually drew one correctly?”

I puffed out my chest in pride. “At this rate, it will not be long before I am better than you Charly.”

“Charly completed that one on his first try when he was seven years old,” My dad said, dashing my hopes with one cruel sentence.

“I did not waste an entire bottle of ink either,” Charly said, hiding a grin behind his hand.

“So what? This is just my first try! I will be better than both of you before long.”

“We do not have that much ink for you to waste,” My father said shaking his head, “Wait until we are out of the mist before wasting the rest of our supply.”

“Fine! you will be sorry when I create a protection glyph better than either of you,” I shouted, storming out of the wagon.

I heard both of them laugh at my outbursts I closed the wagon door behind me. The sound of their laughter put a smile on my face. I may be the butt of their joke, but at least they were not worrying about the soldier’s death anymore.

Outside of the wagon, I saw Donte looking at me with a mischievous smirk. I had a sinking feeling that I had forgotten something important. He held up a basket full of thin little grasses. The biggest grin stretched across his face. I felt my heart palpitate as I realized what I had forgotten.

“I found twenty-four Emerald Blight. How many did you find again? Four?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “Looks like I won the bet.”

“Absolutely not!” I shouted angrily, “I was busy. I call a do over.”

“Whoever found the most Emerald Blight by the end of the day gets to give one command to the losers. Those were the rules you set.”

“I don’t believe it! You have to be cheating! There is no way I lost to you. You did not even have a single blade of grass earlier.”

“You can ask the soldiers gathering with me. They will vouch for me. I collected each and every one of these legitimately.”

“Liar!”

“Now, the only question is… what should I make you do?” Charly said slowly, tapping his finger on his chin, and completely failing to suppress his smile.

I felt a chill travel up my spine. “W- what are you going to command.”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll wait for now. I’ll hold on to this little treasure till the right time.”

I lowered my voice to a growl. “If you dare command anything bad, you will not have to wait for my dad to beat you black and blue. I will burn you to a cinder myself.”

“Oh? Scary, scary, but that is not enough to make me give this opportunity up. I may never get another chance like this after all.”

I picked up one of the wooden training swords hanging on the side of the wagon. I pointed the wooden blade at him with an evil grin.

“let’s see if you still think that in an hour.”