-The Locus Award shortlist is out. The fantasies are:
To Shape a Dragon’s Breath, Moniquill Blackgoose (Del Rey)
The Keeper’s Six, Kate Elliott (Tordotcom)
Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries, Heather Fawcett (Del Rey; Orbit UK)
Dead Country, Max Gladstone (Tordotcom)
The Water Outlaws, S.L. Huang (Tordotcom; Solaris UK)
Paladin’s Faith, T. Kingfisher (Argyll)
He Who Drowned the World, Shelley Parker-Chan (Tor; Mantle)
My Brother’s Keeper, Tim Powers (Baen; Ad Astra)
City of Last Chances, Adrian Tchaikovsky (Ad Astra)
Witch King, Martha Wells (Tordotcom)
The YA fantasies are:
The Sinister Booksellers of Bath, Garth Nix (Tegen; Gollancz)
Divine Rivals, Rebecca Ross (Wednesday; Magpie UK)
The Siren, the Song, and the Spy, Maggie Tokuda-Hall (Candlewick)
-The Bookseller has announced the winners of the 2024 British Book Awards, also known as The Nibbies. Here once again we see the trending dominance of Romantasy and in particular Rebecca Yarros. The fantasies that came up were:
Iron Flame, Rebecca Yarros (Piaktus)
Fourth Wing, Rebecca Yarros (Piatkus) [winner in Page Turner category]
Impossible Creatures, Katherine Rundell (Bloomsbury Children’s) [winner in Children’s fiction category]
Powerless, Lauren Roberts (Simon & Schusters Children’s)
Skandar and the Phantom Rider, A.F. Steadman (Simon & Schusters Children’s)
For the complete list of winners, see the official website.
-Not strictly book news, but you’ve probably heard that they’re making a new Lord of the Rings film about Gollum. I’m not very hopeful after the messes that were the Hobbit films. On the other hand Andy Serkis is a genius. We’ll see…
Your free and discounted fantasy ebook and audiobook sales for this month:
And a little Romantasy one I snuck in to see if any Romantasy readers are interested in jumping on to the story of Ryn and Nuthea… \/ \/ \/
What I’ve been reading:
I like to read something similar in form to whatever I’m working on, and I started out this month editing and submitting some short stories so I thought I would read some too. One of the stories I had was comedy-fantasy (see below), so I decided to read Terry Pratchett’s short stories. I’ve not read any Pratchett for a while, but I spent most of my teens working through the Discworld novels. I realise now just how much Pratchett affected my writing style—which I think is good and bad! Lots of these were not that memorable. On the other hand, one or two were absolute gems, but they did depend somewhat on prior knowledge of Discworld characters. Pratchett was the king of comedy-fantasy, but seemed (by his own admission) to do best with novels…
What I’ve been listening to:
To be honest I’m still listening my way through THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA since it’s so massive, however in the meantime here’s a hot audio tip: If you haven’t discovered the free fantasy short stories podcast PODCASTLE yet (from genre stories podcast group ESCAPE POD), you should check it out! In particular I recommend their full-cast recording of IN THE STACKS, a hilarious short story about some students returning a book to a vast magical library, also written by Scott Lynch.
What Jo’s been reading:
What I’ve been working on:
I edited and submitted three fantasy short stories to different venues this month for something different before editing SAGA OF THE JEWELS VOL. 1 in response to the professional editorial feedback I paid for. I’ve got one request for a full story from a partial sub so far, so that’s something! I’ve only aimed relatively low because it’s been a while since I sold any short stories, but we’ll see if anything comes of them.
Then I got to editing something I wrote at Christmas—a short story about a teacher in a magic school, rather than a student, for once. I’d already written a second follow-up scene, and I had a few more ideas, so I just kept going—and now I have 16,000 words of draft of a novel. Whoops. It may be total garbage, but I just wonder if this might be the mansucript that I work and work and work on until I get it house-published…
I think it has potential, but I need to know if there are any other fantasy novels out there about teachers in magical schools. I’ve done some research and so far found two, both indies: A DREAM OF FIRE by J. R. Rasmussen and TEACHING MAGIC by Amy Cocke. I’ve not read these yet, though now I’m going to have to:
Does anyone know of any other fantasy novels about magic school teachers?
If you do, please let me know in the comments or by email reply!
In other news
This newsletter is being scheduled from The Past because at the time it goes out we will be traveling back from Bavaria! (Knowing my luck lots of important fantasy books news will have dropped in the interim…) We were given some money by the parents of a friend to go on a holiday after Jo’s cancer treatment, but she hadn’t been well enough to go before now. She had carte blanche to pick anywhere she wanted to go, and this is where she chose: a retreat centre in the Bavarian Alps! If you’ve read or listened to Saga of the Jewels Season One, this is a bit how I imagine the Zerlanese town of Nevva in the episode ‘Rest Stop’. It’s meant to be family friendly, but I’m a little wary of how it’s going to be with a 6yo and 1yo… Nonetheless, we are super grateful and excited. See you on the other side!
Previously on Saga of the Jewels…
The life of seventeen-year-old RYN, bookish son of a wealthy landowner, changes forever when his hometown is destroyed by the EMPIRE and everyone he has ever known is killed. Ryn discovers that the Empire are seeking TWELVE PRIMEVAL JEWELS which grant the power to manipulate different elements, and that his father had been hiding the Fire Ruby. He sets out to take revenge on the Imperial General who killed his family and retrieve the Ruby, and along the way meets NUTHEA the lightning-slinging princess, SAGAR the swaggering skypirate, ELRANN the tomboy engineer, CID the wizened old healer, and VISH the poppy-seed-addicted assassin. Together the adventurers decide to find all of the Jewels in order to stop the evil EMPEROR from finding them first and taking over the world. They have thus far succeeded in retrieving the Fire Ruby, borne by Ryn, and the Lightning Crystal, borne by Nuthea. They have now come to the land of FARR where they are on their way to the ‘Earth Temple’ in order to attempt to find the EARTH EMERALD under the guidance of Farrian monk HULD…
Saga of the Jewels Episode 25. Huld, The Monk
Huld made his way through the undergrowth of the Farrian jungle, leaning on his staff, pushing a particularly big, leafy branch out of the way and taking care not to snap it.
He held it back for the foreigners to allow them to get past and continue further along the trail, which also gave him an opportunity to count them off in his head as they walked by.
He was having trouble remembering their names. There was the red-brown-haired fireboy, who didn’t say much. Huld liked that, though he was highly cautious of the boy’s flame-projection powers. One.
There was the long-golden-haired girl who talked too much. It was her fault that this whole mission was happening, really. He wasn’t sure what he thought about her, though he guessed her intentions were probably noble and she was probably harmless. She hadn’t shown if she really had any ‘powers’ yet. Two.
Then there was the boy with the silly coat and the ponytail. He talked far too much, and didn’t know when to hold his tongue. Huld was sure that this one’s intentions were not noble. This was definitely one to keep an eye on. He smiled at the boy as he walked past.
“Stop grinning at me like that,” the ponytail-boy said as he went by. “You’re giving me the creeps.”
“My apologies,” said Huld, without meaning it.
Three.
Next there was the engineer boy with the short purple hair. No, wait, this was a girl, he had now established. Actually, he still wasn’t entirely sure, to be honest. She was nice enough and had been quite friendly to him so far. She seemed as though she was simply going along with the rest of the group in order to help them out, without being especially invested in their goal. Huld could understand that. Four.
Then there was the old man with the beard. The only one with any sense in the whole group, as far as Huld could tell. He spoke carefully, thoughtfully, and did not rush into things. Very sensible. Five.
And lastly, bringing up the rear, was the supposedly ex-Imperial masked Shadowfinger, dressed all in black. Huld was deeply suspicious of this one. He could sense a fearsome strength sealed up in this man’s body, in his tense poise and the way he carried himself so deliberately as he walked which showed that he knew how to use it. This was the one to really watch. Six.
And I make seven. All present and accounted for. Huld let go of the big branch, allowing it to snap back to its original place, and followed after the group.
Really, this whole mission was a bad idea. It was a bad idea for anyone to be trying to interfere with the Earth Emerald, let alone a band of filthy foreigners. It had caused enough trouble the last time it had been in possession of the Republic. The previous Governor, Lord Restra, had been very sensible to have it sealed away in the Shrine to Eto. Where it should stay.
But Huld lived to serve, and his life was service. If he wasn’t loyal to the Republic of Farr and to his Lord Governor, then what was he?
Nothing at all.
So he had received his orders cheerfully with a smile on his face, as usual, and set out obeying them cheerfully with a smile on his face, as usual.
The Governor’s instructions had been very clear:
“Make use of the foreigners’ skills in order to retrieve the Earth Emerald from the Shrine, and then take it and bring it back to me”
“How much further to this place anyway, baldy?” called ponytail from up ahead in the line of walkers, derailing Huld’s train of thought.
“Not much further,” the monk called back. The boy was rude, but Huld didn’t mind the insulting term of address, really. His head had been shaved to show his devotion to Eto and the Republic. Better a ‘baldy’ than having that stupid long hair tied back like a woman’s. “Just keep to the trail,” he said pleasantly, “it will not be long from here.”
They hadn’t been able to land any closer to the Shrine in the party’s airship due to the dense jungle they were now making their way through. Still, Huld was glad to be off the airship sooner rather than later. He hated the things. They were unnatural contraptions.
He much preferred being here, on solid earth. He much preferred being here, hiking through the undergrowth, feeling the grassy ground through his bare feet and with the base of his straight wooden staff, surrounded by a panoply of green life, listening to the noises of buzzing insects and croaking frogs and chirping birds, breathing in the thick, warm air, smelling the refreshing fragrance of recent rain, keeping his attention on one step at a time, because that was all you could do. This was his home. This was where he belonged.
Huld bumped into the Shadowfinger in front of him.
The man spun round in an instant, lifting his hand to the hilt of his blade which was sheathed on his back. When he saw that it was only Huld, he relaxed again.
“Look where you are going,” said the Shadowfinger cooly.
“My apologies, Master Vish,” said Huld, bowing his head slightly. He had remembered this one’s name. It was the only one he had. “A careless accident.”
It turned out the Shadowfinger had stopped because the rest of the group had too; Huld hadn’t been paying proper attention to their progress.
The obscure flattened grass trail that they had been walking through the trees had come to an abrupt end, and all of a sudden the tall, densely packed trees opened up into a massive clearing.
And there, looming up in the middle of the clearing, was the Shrine to Eto.
The Earth Temple.
“Well, that’s something, I suppose,” said ponytail.
Ignorant foreigner, thought Huld. It’s more than ‘something’. It’s one of the great wonders of Mid.
The shrine was enormous, built of bricks of baked, brown earth arranged in layers one on top of another that got narrower with each layer, much like the way that Shun Pei had been built. Except unlike Shun-Pei, the layers here were square, not round, and there were no peaks or points—instead each layer was flat, creating the effect of a series of steps on four sides that climbed to reach a single cubic grey-stone summit with a flat top. Though ‘steps’ was probably not the right word. You would have to be a giant to ascend these steps.
It wasn’t so much that the Shrine reached up to the sky, but that it reached down from the sky into the earth, widening out and fusing with it, and yet also made of it and already part of it, a vast, monolithic monument to Earth herself. Huld approved.
“Where’s the entrance?” asked the fire boy.
“We have approached from the east,” Huld said. “I believe that the entrance is on the western side.” He had never actually visited the Shrine before, only heard stories about the ancient abandoned Shrine to Eto. The stories were surpassed by the real thing, however. Excitement fluttered in his chest at the prospect of actually going inside, though he just wished that he wasn’t visiting it for the first time under these circumstances.
They walked round to the western side of the Shrine, which took them a good ten minutes, such was its size.
“Here we are,” said the golden girl.
In the middle of the wall of the base layer of the Shrine on this side were two gigantic doors, each twice the height of Huld, which was saying something. They were made out of the same baked brown earth the colour of fertile soil as the rest of the Shrine, but you could tell that they were doors because they were cut slightly differently from the rest of the wall, three vertical lines presumably hiding hinges and the space where the doors met, and had two huge circular bronze handles hanging from halfway up each of them. The handles had to be just for show though, because they were so big, and impossible to reach.
“How are we gonna open those?” said the engineer girl.
The foreigners all looked at Huld with stupid expectant stares.
“I am not sure…” he said after a moment. He hadn’t been briefed by the Governor about this. He genuinely didn’t know what to do.
He walked up to a door and placed a hand on its surface. The earth it was made from was strangely warm to the touch, like it was being fed by some inner energy.
Huld pushed, but the door did not budge one inch.
The old man appeared at his side. “Perhaps there is some sort of password?”
“Perhaps,” grunted Huld. “Though I have never heard of such a thing.” They had never had anything like that at any of the shrines or temples where he had trained. Normally doors just...opened. Like they were supposed to.
“Are there any particular words or phrases that you would associate with this place?” said the old man. “Or with the worship of Eto?”
Huld thought about it. “I suppose that there are.”
“Perhaps you could try saying some of them out loud?”
“Alright then…” Huld felt foolish, but he tried saying some of the phrases out loud anyway in his most confident, clear voice.
“Hail Eto, our Mother the Earth!”
Nothing.
“Strength in numbers! Freedom in service! Glory in sacrifice!”
Nothing.
“When we strike as one we will move mountains!”
Nothing.
The massive door just stood there still, unmoving as the earth.
“Open Sesame!” someone shouted behind him.
Huld looked round and raised an eyebrow at the purple-haired engineer girl.
She shrugged. “What? I heard it in a story somewhere. It was worth a shot.”
Huld sighed.
“Well this is going well,” said ponytail.
“There must be some way in,” said goldengirl.
“Perhaps a physical technique, instead?” the old man suggested.
“Hmmm,” rumbled Huld. “Yes.” This was more his language.
He laid his staff on the grass and searched in his mind for a technique.
Of course. Why did I not think of it before?
He dropped into chocobo stance, spreading his legs just over shoulder-width apart, bending his knees, keeping his back straight, and also bending his arms but turning his palms upwards like he was holding two eggs in line with his hips.
“What are you doing?” said fireboy.
“Hush, if you please,” said Huld. “A fighting technique. It is called ‘Moving the Earth,’ appropriately enough.”
He focused on his breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
He gathered the energy inside himself on his next breath in, willed it to transfer from his chest, down his arms, and into his hands, then drew his elbows back, and as he breathed out—
“HA!”
Huld thrust his hands forward, twisting them round as he did so, slamming his open palms into the earthen door, putting all the energy and strength of his being behind them.
His palms stung at once from the impact as they met the door’s resistance. They made a dull slapping noise as they connected. Huld fancied he felt the door tremor, ever so slightly.
He took a step back and looked up, rubbing his tingling hands, then frowned.
Nothing had moved.
Someone screamed behind him.
Huld span round and back into his chocobo stance.
On the grass in front of the entrance to the Shrine, figures were sprouting from the ground, composed of it, literally climbing out of it. Brown figures of soil and stone with bits of grass and tree bark and foliage on them.
Figures of earth.
*
Nuthea screamed shrill and high on reflex.
A creature made of earth and soil had just risen up out of the ground next to her. It was humanoid in shape, with no facial features, but it had crude hands bunched into fists.
It took a swing at her and Nuthea jumped back out of the way, screaming again.
“Bolt!” she yelled, instinctively reaching for her lightning projection, and thrust her hand out.
But no bolt came. She didn’t even feel the play of energy along her arm.
No! Not again!
The creature ran towards her, pulling back its earthen fist for another strike. She wasn’t going to have time to get out of the way.
Earth clanged against metal as Sagar interposed one his blades between Nuthea and the attack.
The skypirate pushed the golem (now Nuthea remembered the proper name for these magical creatures) away with his sword and it stumbled back a couple of paces.
“Wind!” Sagar yelled, thrusting his other hand forwards.
Air rushed from Sagar’s open palm at the golem, but it just dug its feet into the ground, fusing with it. The wind rippled over the golem, riffling the leaves that were stuck to some of its body, but it remained completely unmoved, unharmed.
“Uh-oh…” said Sagar when his wind attack was spent.
Sense returned to Nuthea and she drew her own sword from its sheath at her side--a straight Manolian blade with a golden hilt and a wicked point. If lightning and wind weren’t going to work on these creatures, they would have to resort to steel.
The golem ran at Sagar, its feet easily detaching from the earth when it needed them to, and this time it was Nuthea’s turn to step in and block its punch with her sword.
Her blade bounced off the golem’s fist, each knocked away by the other, sending a shudder of vibrating pain down Nuthea’s arms. Whatever combination of earth and stone it was made of was tough, tough enough even to turn away Manolian steel.
The others were yelling and shouting behind her. In her peripheral vision she could see more golems moving around, but for now she had to focus on the one in front of her and Sagar.
“Thanks for the save, princess,” Sagar said. Did he have to make it sound so sarcastic? The pirate lunged forward, pressing the attack against the golem, trying a thrust with his swordpoint.
The golem didn’t respond quickly enough and this time Sagar’s sword went into its chest area, puncturing it and sticking out the other side…
...and not slowing it down at all.
The golem punched Sagar in the face with a clay fist and he fell backwards with a shout, losing his grip on his sword and landing in a heap on the floor. He did not get up.
“Sagar!” Nuthea called in concern.
There wasn’t time to tend to him now. The golem kept its momentum and strode towards Nuthea, throwing more punches at her, Sagar’s sword still embedded in its torso.
Nuthea blocked the blows, but it was so strong, and now that she saw no way of fighting back her heart began to thump rapidly in her chest as she began to panic.
“Someone! Help!” she cried.
The golem forced her backwards. She lifted her sword to block a particularly vicious strike, and the golem hit it so hard that it knocked it spinning out of her hands.
Nuthea stumbled from the impact and fell backwards.
The golem stood over her and raised its two big earthen fists above its head, about to crush her.
Nuthea raised her hands to cover her face on reflex and winced, crying out in terror.
“Fire!” yelled Ryn from somewhere nearby.
A blast of orange flame engulfed the upper part of the golem. It immediately started batting at itself to try to extinguish the flame, but its hands only caught fire too. It collapsed to the ground, black smoke pouring off it, burning rapidly and writhing about. In a matter of moments it was a pile of smoking ash—entirely consumed by the fire.
Nuthea sighed with deep relief, then retrieved her sword and stood up.
“That worked well!” she said, turning to where she thought Ryn was.
But Ryn wasn’t there anymore. He was ten paces away, manically throwing fire at more golems, shouting focus-words one after another but sometimes not even having the time to do that. There were so many of them, closing in in a circle around the party and, apparently seeing Ryn as a threat, now the majority of them were advancing on him. He was struggling to keep up with the onrush of earthen warriors, blasting them with fire one by one, some of them getting dangerously close to him before he sent a barrage of flickering red and orange into them. Nuthea was sure he would not be able to keep this up forever.
She looked for the others. Elrann was unloading her pistols at the golems one by one, blowing chunks of earth out of their bodies, but the holes she left only reformed and the golems came on. Huld was fighting a pair of golems with his hands. Cid had his sword drawn and was desperately trying to fight his way to the fallen Sagar, whom the golems now ignored. And Vish was currently occupied with fighting four golems at the same time, slashing and cutting but unable to do any lasting damage to any of them.
Ryn was the only one who seemed capable of halting the golems with his fire projection. But he couldn’t fight them all on his own, and he would surely run out of mana soon.
Nuthea had an idea.
“Ryn!” she yelled.
The young man turned his head to look at her as he continued to throw fire at the onrushing creatures.
“Can you localise some flame projection around my blade?”
“What?” Ryn called back.
“Can you hit my sword with a fire spell so that it lights on fire?”
“What?!”
“Just do it!” Nuthea called impatiently. “I know you can do it!” She held out her sword to him with one hand, blade pointing up.
Ryn’s brow furrowed, but all the same he pointed two fingers of one hand at her. “Fire!”
Flame leapt from Ryn’s outstretched fingers—two pointed fingers, in this case, rather than a whole thrust-out hand, perhaps because he was holding back, or perhaps because this is how his body instinctively shaped and controlled the fire to aim it more precisely.
The flames hit Nuthea’s raised swordblade…
...and settled on it. Her whole blade became enveloped in flame and glowed red hot. The fire stopped leaping from Ryn’s fingers, but it continued to burn on her blade, red and orange, covering it in a blazing, incandescent aura.
“You did it!” she called. “I knew you could!”
A golem was coming for her.
Nuthea sprinted towards the golem, meeting it head on, and brought her flaming blade down and then up in a deadly arc from right to left across its torso, orange trailing in its wake.
The blade tore through the golem’s body with barely any resistance at all and passed out the other side of it, severing it in two. At the same time, the golem caught fire.
It collapsed to the ground in two halves, and both halves thrashed around uselessly while they burned.
“It worked!” Nuthea cried in elation. She turned. Ryn was still desperately throwing fire at the golems, sometimes missing, sometimes hitting, while the others were struggling to fend them off. “Ryn!” she shouted. “It worked! Do the same thing for the others!”
“They’re a bit busy right now!” Ryn called back.
Nuthea looked for them. They were losing ground to the golems, getting forced backwards and closer together. Huld was now dealing with three at once, catching their fists with his palms or blocking them with his forearms, throwing back punches and kicks of his own but with little effect. Elrann stood behind and to the side of him, still desperately trying to slow their advance with her pistols, apparently not knowing what else to do and unwilling to try her whip on them. Cid was now fighting off two together with his sword, only barely managing to defend himself, but not to retaliate. And Vish had about six on him now, dancing and weaving around them as he held them at bay.
Him first.
“Shadowfinger Vish!” Nuthea cried. “To me!”
The Shadowfinger looked up from his combat, saw her, then bent his knees and kicked off from the ground, executing one of his astonishing leaps, soaring upwards, twisting round in midair, and landing smartly next to her.
“What?” the Shadowfinger said irritably, as though he had been interrupted in the middle of doing something he enjoyed, though it may have also been from frustration at the golems.
“Hold up your blade! Let Ryn season it with fire!”
“What?!”
Why don’t people just listen to me? Nuthea thought. I’m clearly the most intelligent and knowledgeable member of this adventuring party. And I’m royalty.
“It won’t hurt you,” she explained hurriedly. “It’s a cooperative elemental projection technique. I’ve seen it done with lightning back home in Manolia, though I’ve not learned how to do it yet. But it works with fire too. Look.” She held up her own flaming sword by way of explanation.
Vish slitted his eyes at her, but then held up his black sword in front of him without saying another word.
“Ryn!” Nuthea called. “Over here! Do Vish’s sword too!”
Ryn looked over mid-spell, then hurriedly threw a hand out to perform the same technique on Vish’s sword that he had done for Nuthea’s.
Fire jumped from his pointed fingers to set Vish’s blade alight, too.
The Shadowfinger’s eyes went wide as he held it up to inspect it, the fire now continually burning on his blade reflecting in his grey irises.
“Try again now!” said Nuthea.
“Argh!” Ryn cried out.
He dropped to his knees and doubled over, putting both hands out on the ground. He must be out of mana, or almost out of it. His eyes were shut in pain or concentration.
The flames coming from Nuthea’s and Vish’s swords died down momentarily, but then Ryn grunted with exertion and they returned to their former intensity.
Of course. He needs to concentrate to keep the flames burning on our swords.
“Hold on, Ryn!” Nuthea called. “We’re coming!”
She ran towards the golems about to plough into Ryn, even as Vish leapt into the air.
The Shadowfinger came down before she reached them, setting upon them as a vicious streak of black and orange, slicing earthen arms and legs from bodies, severing their heads, cleaving them in half.
Nuthea joined him, and together the two of them tore through the golems, their swords leaving trails of fiery colour in the air.
In no time at all they had fought their way back to Ryn and the others, and Nuthea pierced the back of the golem that was nearest to Cid, then ripped her sword out of it by kicking it to the floor. Vish made quick work of the golems besetting Elrann and Huld.
A matter of moments, and all the remaining golems lay in pieces on the ground, burning up into nothing but dust and dirt.
Nuthea and Vish had defeated them easily with their flame-assisted weapons.
Cid ran over to the fallen form of Sagar at once and knelt down next to him, placing both his hands on the skypirate’s head. “Cure,” he said.
“Urrrrrrrggghh,” said Sagar as he came back to consciousness. “What the hells happened?”
“One of them got you,” Nuthea called over from where she stood. “I don’t think wind attacks are going to be very effective against earth elementals.”
“Rrrrr,” Sagar growled quietly.
“That’s a cool trick, princess-girl,” said Elrann nearby, pointing at Nuthea’s sword with one of her pistols.
Nuthea looked at the still flaming blade. “Wait...Ryn!”
Her eyes found the flame-wielding farmboy a little way away, still kneeling on the ground with both hands on it, hunched over, his eyes scrunched shut, concentrating hard.
She sprinted over to him.
“Ryn, it’s alright!” she said between pants. “We defeated the golems! That cooperative technique did it! You can quench the flames on my and Shadowfinger Vish’s swords now!”
Ryn whimpered, and the flames around Nuthea’s swordblade died down. His arms trembled, then gave way completely, and he fell face down onto the earth, lying flat on his front.
“Grandfather!” Nuthea called out at once. “Ryn needs your help too!”
Cid was already running over. He knelt next to Ryn and put a hand on his head.
“He’s spent all his mana…” Cid said. “Cure.”
Ryn sighed a note of relief. He opened his eyes, and shakily pushed himself up, then rearranged himself so he was sitting on the ground.
“That’s better,” he said, rubbing his hands. “Why did that hurt so much?”
“If you keep projecting when all your mana is spent, it causes you physical damage and pain,” said Cid. “The element-magic draws its energy directly from the body’s physical resources, rather from your spent mana pool. I will need to give you some of my mana too. He placed a hand on Ryn’s shoulder. “Syphon.”
Ryn shut his eyes again for a moment and his head rocked back. “Woah. I can feel my projection powers are back. Thanks, Cid.”
“That’s alright, lad. It seems that we are going to be relying on your abilities quite a lot to retrieve this particular Jewel… I have a larger mana pool than you do, as I’m more experienced and have been at this game for longer, but I still only have a finite supply.”
“It feels like I have...more than before,” said Ryn. “Is that because of you?”
“No,” said Cid, “that’s because you just pushed your mana beyond its limit, so your capacity has grown now that you’ve been healed. It’s a very dangerous but nonetheless, aha, very sure-fire way to increase your mana capacity. It’s a bit like forcing a sustained limit break. I just topped up your newly increased reserves, but I can’t increase your capacity for you.”
“What’s a limit break?”
“...I’ll explain another time.”
“What are you lot waffling on about?” asked Sagar as he walked over.
“Oh, nothing,” said Cid, “just some of the ins-and-outs of elemental projection.”
The others came over to join them too.
“That was good thinking there, princess-girl,” said Elrann. “Your little trick probably saved our lives.”
“It was nothing,” Nuthea said with complete sincerity. “I’ve seen a similar thing done with lightning in Manolia, so I just had the idea to repeat it with fire.”
“Yeah,” said Sagar, “well done and everything, I’m sure we’re all glad that’s over, but it doesn’t actually help us get into the Shrine, does it?”
“Er,” said Ryn, “actually it does.”
He pointed.
At some time while they had been talking, the doors to the Earth Temple had opened inwards, revealing an earthen corridor beyond which receded into darkness.
“Well that’s creepy,” said Elrann.
“Most peculiar…” said Huld.
“They must have opened when we defeated the earth elementals…” said Cid.
A heartbeat.
“Looks like we’re going in then,” said Sagar.
“Wait!” said Nuthea, not wanting them to get ahead of themselves. “We need to talk about our strategy. It would appear that wind and lightning attacks were ineffective against these golems.” No need to tell them that I didn’t even get a chance to test my lightning on them. What’s happening to me? I’ll have to ask Grandfather Cid about it later.
“Where did those things come from, anyway?” said Ryn. “Huld?”
“I… I’m not sure,” said the monk slowly. “I have never encountered such creatures anywhere in Farr before…” He seemed somewhat shaken.
“Cid?” said Ryn.
Grandfather stroked his beard. “My best guess is that they were created by the Earth Emerald itself. The Jewels have a...habit of making themselves difficult to be found. It doesn’t mean that they are impossible to obtain, as we know, but they can be very difficult to get hold of. My guess is that the Emerald quite enjoys being shut up here, surrounded by all this earth, and so raised those guardians with its magic to try us before granting us entry to the Temple. This sort of thing does happen from time to time. But we appear to have passed the test, because they have stopped appearing.”
“Great,” said Sagar. “Well, thanks for the warning, old timer.”
“I did not know if such things would happen here or not…” Cid said, a touch defensively. “I have only ever encountered them happening on a few other occasions before…”
“Never mind,” said Ryn, “like you said, we’ve beaten them now. Let’s go inside and get this Jewel.”
“That’s easy for you to say, farmboy,” said Elrann. “Your fire worked well on them. The rest of us are a bit more defenceless.”
“That’s a good point,” Nuthea said. “Ryn, it seems we will need to rely on you if we encounter any more...earth enemies. You should conserve your mana as much as possible.”
“That’s right,” said Grandfather. “I topped you up, and I have a bigger mana pool than you do due to my experience, but I don’t have infinite reserves and I can feel that I’m starting to run low. Make sure you don’t burn through yours too quickly, or we might really get into trouble.”
“That cooperative technique you had him perform was useful,” said Vish unexpectedly. The Shadowfinger almost never spoke up in group conversations. Everyone else looked just as surprised as Nuthea felt. “Make sure you save enough ‘mana’ to do that again if we need you to, boy.”
“I’ll do my best,” said Ryn with unforced earnestness. Nuthea decided she liked that trait of his. It was growing on her, anyway. “Come on. It’s time to enter this ‘Earth Temple’.”
And in they went.
Huld, The Monk