Tiny Dungeon

Boris channeled Aether from his Silver-Core into his eyes to activate his [Aether Perception]. The ocular ability lit up the flying creature in the customary kaleidoscope of yellows, blues, and purples. He frowned as he read the coloration. There was something off in the way the Aether flowed through the creature but more than that there was a “quality” to the creature’s Aether that hinted at something more.

Strange was too nice a word for the amalgamation bearing down on them. It was large compared to the normal creatures they had experienced so far with a wingspan a little over two feet long and with a body that matched it. It had a stocky neck that would have looked mammalian in nature, perhaps bat-like, if there weren’t scales intermingled with the fur he could see. There were also what looked like spiny ridges descending from the head down its spine and its feet were large and reptilian. Its jaws were full of razor-sharp teeth and its eyes gleamed with animalistic cunning.

“It’s Bronze Rank!” He yelled for the benefit of the group, strung out as they were climbing the long chains of moss that connected the ledges that jutted out from the mansion’s walls. Without waiting for a response he called out again. “I think it might be a Guardian!” This time he did hear exclamations, though they were muffled by the wind. Boris kept his eyes locked on the beast even as it dove for their group. The battlemage made sure his footing was secure before igniting his hands in flames.

His Trait, [Aether Manipulation], would have allowed him to manifest any spell he wished, provided he knew the Working of it, but it was so much easier to manifest his [Fire Affinity - Greater] instead. As a Boon granted when he had Synchronized with his Crystal Core, his Fire Affinity was something artificial. It was an enhancement to his calling as a practitioner of the Aetheric Arts but as he channeled more Aether through his core and into his flames he remembered the words of his father and teacher.

“Cores aren’t the only route to power and you will find that they blind people to the true power and majesty of Aether given form and substance. True Workings are rare nowadays in this age of Crystal Cores. Never forget to look beyond the veneer of easy power. Grasp what lies beyond.”

Boris smiled at the memory and let the flames go in a gout that at least diverted the beast from its course. He couldn’t fail to notice how the creature’s Aether flared and diverted part of the flames away from it exerting an amazing amount of control for a Bronze Rank creature.

“Keep climbing,” he called out to the others, refusing to meet their confused gaze. They are wondering why I didn’t kill it immediately with my flames, he thought with a wry smile. “Go,” he said, with a shooing motion. “It’s my turn to have some fun!” Seeing understanding and smirks steal over their faces he just repeated his motion before turning back to face the creature. It was time to stop using his crutch.

For the first time in a long time, Boris channeled Aether in his [Aether Manipulation] Trait. He did so by drawing in the ambient Aether rather than utilizing his Core. He was feeling old-fashioned today. Not that he was terribly old but the technique reminded him of his youth. Back when he was eight years old and being coached in the old ways by his father. With an inhaled breath he brought in the Aether and fed it to his Trait and with an exhale brought it back out under his control. His fingers flashed as he grabbed the exiting tendrils and wove a Working.

Something explosive perhaps? He mused even as his mind bent to the work of threading the Aether. His hands were stiff, unused to the movements after so long but his Silver-Core ranked Agility kept them moving deftly enough for what he had planned. The purple, yellow, and blue of raw Aether quickly gave way to a pulsating current as the affinity shifted from one that was pure to another. The creature roared as it dove once more and Boris smiled even as his Working began to take shape.

Like a mural of stained glass woven in fractal chords of white-gold, the Working flashed into existence. Boris felt true joy for a frozen moment as he beheld the wonder of magic without a Core’s Boon shaping it. Then he locked eyes with the creature and spoke the keyed word, slamming his hands together to shatter the masterpiece.

“Flickerburst.”

POV Valterra Unok’Davaas

Valterra watched as the shimmering construct shattered, releasing its magical payload. He had arrived to watch his Guardian fight, safe in the knowledge that even if his Wyvre died the creature would return by utilizing his Boon. The Core was present, therefore, to fully experience a mage casting a spell. It wasn’t like the powers the others utilized and it wasn’t anything like the innate powers expressed by his creatures. Even his rats didn’t have anything nearly as structured as what he had just witnessed.

As the construct broke, the Aether held inside vibrated at a frequency that shook the metaphysical fabric of reality before shattering into a staccato of explosions that rippled outward in a cone. His Wyvre Guardian, caught by surprise, was unable to get out of the way in time though his innate power over Aether gave him some subconscious protection. The explosions completely tore off his left wing and destroyed a portion of his jaw. Valterra winced at the sight even as his Wyvre began to flail in the air trying desperately to grab at the air with his remaining wing.

Valterra forced himself to watch as his brave Guardian attempted to continue the fight. The power from the explosions wasn’t enough to completely cancel out the momentum of his Wyvre’s dive and the Guardian tried to use it to bring his wounded jaws to bear on the mage. It wasn’t enough. Even as a Guardian his Wyvre was only an Uncommon and technically a juvenile, though Valterra hadn’t had any reach the next stage of evolution so that he could create the next stage.

Returning his thoughts to the battle, Valterra watched as his Wyvre received a roundhouse kick to the head that snapped it around and forced a keening note of pain to escape from its throat. That kick ended up being a mistake, however, as the mage lost his footing for the slightest of instants on the wind-tossed moss bridge. His Wyvre, despite the intense pain, capitalized on it. His single remaining wing, while falling, shot forward and its single clawed talon sliced a thin cut on the mage’s arm.

It wasn’t a lot but it was the first real damage any of the party of Delvers had taken so far since entering the Dungeon proper. What was more, the Aether contained in that one miniscule drop of blood was immense and Valterra didn’t hesitate to command the Guardian on what to do next. Even as he fell, and even as the mage hissed in pain, his Wyvre brought the wing over and licked the blood off his talon. Golden light exploded as his Wyvre surpassed his current threshold to the next stage of evolution.

The party of Delvers gasped at the sudden burst of radiance and gathered at the edge of the moss bridge they were on to witness the falling creature, even the mage, who disregarded the scratch on his arm in order to gaze at the sight below him. After discussing amongst themselves for some time they continued to climb even as Valterra pulled Aether to soften the Wyvre’s landing. To be honest this was a welcome surprise. He hadn’t expected anything to come from his Guardian’s fight but he would certainly take it. Pulling up the System and looking at the sheer amount of Aether and Potential he had to work with, Valterra let a whoop that reverberated through his Dungeon.