ImmovableMage
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259 Monstrous Moon
🕑 Added 2025-09-19 23:00:01 +0000 UTC– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 27 –
– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 27 –
Terry held the gaze of the giant ancestor without flinching until the leader of the giantfolk moved his eyes fleetingly to Deekin before speaking.
“Very well, you can call me Razkiel. You want to talk, little men? Let’s talk.”
“Little your father, you damned loincloth,” spat Rafael. “Fix your tongue before I’ll cut it out.”
[Rafael, please,] pleaded Terry via mental communication.
[What? I don’t like the tone of this old fart,] retorted Rafael. He glared defiantly at the ancestors and pointed his thumb at Terry. “He’s the one that wants to talk. I for one am happy to show you all how little your size really matters when facing the Heavenly Wolf!”
“Wolf?” sneered one ancestor. “Can someone bring this beast a mirror?”
“You!” Rafael’s eye twitched.
“You’re the one responsible for the slaughter of our hunting parties a few weeks ago,” interjected Razkiel with a furrowed brow. “The one that summons the image of a white wolf.”
“A wolf from the heavens that stands taller than each and everyone of you,” stressed Rafael smugly.
The giant that had belittled Rafael earlier was now grimacing with displeasure.
“Can we get to the point?” asked Terry annoyedly.
“I said we can have a talk, but what’s the point?” Razkiel scoffed. “Why would you be interested in our history? Why would I believe you’re not with the elven factions?”
As a reply, Terry merely removed his helmet to expose his ears and facial structure. “Have a good look at us. We’re not with the elves. I’ll be honest. I don’t like what your kind teaches, nor would I ever tolerate your…” His expression turned into a scowl. “Dietary choices.”
Terry clicked his tongue. “That being said, we’ve also come into conflict with the Moon and the Sun. Frankly, I don’t like any major faction I’ve met here, so we’re the closest thing to a neutral party you could ever hope to find. I’m interested in this realm’s history. Your conflicts with the elves. The elves’ conflicts with each other. The mana curse that’s raging in the realm and creating the funghouls gathering in the Deadlands.”
Terry took a deep breath. “Given the havoc the mana curse is wreaking on the realm, I’d prefer getting answers sooner rather than later, so I’d like to get to the point.”
“We know about the curse, but I can’t say we really care about it.” Razkiel scoffed with contempt. “I don’t see a reason to rush.”
That statement took Terry by surprise. His mind raced, wondering if the giants could somehow be behind the curse, but quickly dismissed the idea since they barely had mana users, much less mages capable of unleashing or controlling such a powerful mana curse.
No. If they don’t care, it means that they’re not as affected. I doubt it’s an intentional design to protect giants. I saw infested giants in the folded space. How does that fit together?
It’s a mana curse. It spreads through mana. Mana.
Most giants are manaless.
Terry recalled what he knew about mana curses.
Other mana curses like the ghoul or zombie plagues can infect the manaless, but what if this curse is different? What if it primarily targets mana users?
“I would assume you, and at least two other giants in this hall would have reason to worry,” prompted Terry. His gaze clearly indicated the mana users among the ancestors.
“The curse can be resisted,” said Razkiel.
If that was easy, then the researchers wouldn’t be so desperate.
“If your body is strong enough,” continued Razkiel. “And you limit exposure.”
Terry’s expression turned from skepticism to pensiveness.
Strong body? I guess the few giants that accumulate mana should have that.
The elves, by contrast, begin accumulating mana passively already in infancy.
Limiting exposure? Could be another reason for their mana-osmotic hall. Limiting exposure for an elf would mean preventing them from actively using it, essentially crippling their development as mages and…
Terry frowned. If this curse was designed, then it seemed very much designed to target the elves in this realm.
But the only enemies the elves have are themselves and the giants. The shroomans really don’t seem the type to bear such a grudge.
Neither the giants nor the shroomans appear to wield the kind of structured magic to design such a curse to begin with.
And none of it explains the channeling anchor I saw in the folded space. Although a channeling anchor could very well go together with cripping mages, wait no. Not if the anchor is controlling the curse. That would be self-sabotage. Ugh. I hate this.
Terry’s mind wandered. There was something. Something weird.
Incongruous.
“You say the curse is nothing much to worry about.” Terry creased his brows, trying to recall the intel he had heard from Khaled and Patricia. “But the number of funghoul giants in the Deadlands appears to be significant.”
Razkiel shrugged. “I don’t know about that. The funghouls don’t die of age, so who knows how long the ones you counted have been around. All we know is that for our tribes, the curse isn’t much of a concern. Our members are dying at the hands of elves. The losses to the Wrath are not worth mentioning.”
To the what?
“That’s an interesting name for the curse,” prompted Terry. “The elves were mostly calling it the funghoul plague or merely the curse.”
No need for other names if one mana curse is the only one that matters in the realm.
Razkiel shrugged again. “They used to call it differently, too. Long time ago.”
How old is this giant ancestor?
“The Wrath. Nature’s Vengeance. Death’s Penalty. The Rosewood Mark.” Razkiel spread his arms. “The names come and go with time, but that woman’s curse remains persistent.”
Vengeance?
Rosewood?
That woman? Thuzar? The Ungodly Angel?
“What woman?” prompted Terry.
“I don’t know. Little elf. Don’t care about little elves.” Razkiel rolled his eyes. “Even if the little elf stands against the other elves.”
Is he just talking about Thuzar cursing the elves? Or something else?
Terry’s ears perked up. “Against them, how?”
“What do I know?” groaned Razkiel. “The Moon expanded and that little elf had something against them razing down the forests or something. She also had a quarrel with the Sun. Beats me, what about. I think the Sun and Moon were fighting each other, too, at the time. They used to fight all the time. Then there was no little elf anymore, but her curse avenged her.” He yawned. “Not my tribe. Not my business.”
Forests? The shroomans?
Nature’s Vengeance. Vengeance for the shroomans? What would happen if someone as kind-hearted as Thuzar were to meet a folk like the shroomans. Meet the benefactors of the Veilbinder while searching for her lost companion. Only to see the shroomans hunted to extinction? Would the Ungodly Angel really go as far as to doom the entire realm of elves?
If it was just a conflict with the Moon, then why are all elves getting cursed? Would a cursemage as skilled as Thuzar not have been able to design a more specific curse?
The name Death’s Penalty makes it sound as if the elves are paying for the death they inflicted. The Sun also used to hunt the shroomans at some point, but is that all there is to it?
What does he mean ‘no elf anymore’? Did she leave? No, she wouldn’t if there was such a conflict. Was she killed?
What about the channeling anchor?
Terry subconsciously frowned. It appeared that the more he asked, the more questions he would have, and he still had to play by the rules of the Warlord. He could already see the giant ancestors getting irritated. Terry had framed his questions as getting their viewpoint, but he was mostly asking about the curse, which, for the giants, was a topic of elves against elves.
I have to pace my questions regarding the curse and elves…
“How about your conflicts with the elven factions?” Terry changed topics. “We stopped a group of sun elves hunting giants when we met Deekin. When did the elves start killing giants and taking their corpses?”
***
“Well, that was the most boring encounter with giants I’ve ever had,” complained Rafael.
Terry rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m sure there will be some night raids in our future. Just because they were happy to tell us their side of history doesn’t mean they’ll be friendly from now on.”
Terry couldn’t help but glance at Deekin. His plan had worked, but now he was left wondering if he had done his giant disciple wrong by garnering so much attention on the former runt.
Terry had grown fond of the giant in the manner Terry befriended martialists like Rafael. There was a lingering clash of world views and values that would never go away completely, but underneath, there was a person showing care and a willingness to improve.
Deekin might never value life the way Terry would like him to, but the giant had gotten close enough for Terry to care about him.
“I say we find a place to camp,” said Terry. “Oz and I can take over the watch during the night. I can sleep when you’re training.”
“Training?” Rafael looked from Terry to Deekin.
“Naturally, all of us,” stressed Terry and thereby confirmed that they would continue Deekin’s accelerated mana cultivation.
And I’m getting the feeling that no matter how the puzzle pieces all fit together, there will be violence waiting for us at the end.
Later. First, I’ll have to do some puzzle solving.
“Can I count on you to take over the initial sparring again?” Terry asked Rafael. “I need some time to think and order my thoughts.”
“You got it, brother! Stretching my claws is just what I need after that excruciatingly boring tea party of yours.”
***
Terry was lying in a hammock attached to immovable hooks of tertium in the air. He had gotten the hammock idea from Rafael and was now leaning back while letting his eyes move over the pages of the transfixed book above him.
The book showed the pages that recorded Terry’s scribbles to establish facts and identify relevant questions regarding this cursed realm.
Terry had expanded his scribbles a lot with the information he had received from the giants.
All to be taken with a good pinch of doubt…
Terry couldn’t exactly say why, but he didn’t find Razkiel a particularly trustworthy person. He had not caught the giant in any lie, nor did the giant’s words remind him of the Preacher’s rhetoric games, but there was something.
Something in the way that Razkiel was looking at Deekin as if he was a weapon to be wielded.
Something in the way the ancestor spoke about shorter folks in general.
Something in the giant’s mannerisms and soul reactions.
I’ll be wasted before I let him twist Deekin into whatever he has in mind.
“I’ll think of something…” Terry muttered to himself.
Regardless of what Terry thought about Razkiel, Terry didn’t see a good reason to doubt most of the factual claims he had heard about the curse and the elven clashes.
Naturally that didn’t extend to the way the giants described their battles or who was treacherous to whom and such things, but Terry didn’t care about those to begin with. He had wanted them to share their version of history, not to form an opinion about the giants’ morals or prowess, but only to match it against the pieces he had already heard from other sources.
From the Sun and the Moon via Khaled and Patricia.
From Shroomling and the Shroomans via Bugsby as the interpreter.
As such, Terry didn’t really pay any attention to the conflicts that bore no relevance to the curse, the shroomans, or the rivalry between the elven factions.
Terry had Oz scout around in the shadow plane to look for illumination revealing other mana-osmotically shielded tunnel systems while he was ordering his thoughts.
Fact: The curse really picked up after Thuzar’s disappearance.
Presumed fact: The curse grew more intense the more the elves hunted the shroomans. If Thuzar protected the shroomans, then the hunt would naturally escalate after her disappearance.
“Death’s Penalty. The Rosewood Mark. Nature’s vengeance,” mumbled Terry.
Fact: Everyone assigns the responsibility for creating the curse to Thuzar.
Presumed fact: Thuzar had warned them about what would happen. Or threatened them with it.
“Why else would they be so sure about her being the creator? No reason to announce yourself as a cursemage, unless you want to threaten someone. You would just unleash the curse quietly and let it do the work you designed it to do.”
Terry’s eyes moved to the highlighted questions in his notebook.
Is that all? Would the Ungodly Angel really go so far to protect the shroomans? Granted, if the curse really triggers as revenge for killed shroomans or destroyed habitats, then it would be somewhat self-inflicted suffering by the elves. At least if there was a proper warning beforehand.
Was there a proper warning? The current elves don’t really seem to act like such.
Even if there was a warning, what about the ones that don’t directly lay a hand on the shroomans? From what I’ve heard, the elves catch and struggle against the curse before they even leave their infancy. That can only be called cruel.
Would the Ungodly Angel really go so far?
“Why wouldn’t she design the curse to only punish the ones directly threatening the shroomans and their habitats?” Terry rubbed his eyes.
What am I missing?
Terry’s eyes found the pair of words that had the most highlighting marks around it.
The words that taunted him from the pages.
‘Channeling anchor’.
“Was it?” Terry took a deep breath. “What if it wasn’t?”
Terry focused on his breathing and tried to let go of his thoughts for a while.
He observed the spar between Deekin and Rafael.
He felt for the mana pockets that Oz was pumping around the mountain range.
He watched Bugsby practically devouring a few books that Terry had given him.
Eventually, Terry’s eyes found Shroomling, who was rubbing her stubby hands over a sickly looking flower. The spores that fell appeared to bring new life to the flower and surrounding vegetation.
“Healthy,” muttered Terry quietly. “Healthy Realm. Happy Realm.”
Weirdo Terry.
“Healthy…” Terry got out of the hammock and picked up the notebook to sit cross-legged on the floor again.
Fact: The Veilbinder allied with the shroomans.
Fact: Thuzar protected the shroomans.
Presumed fact: The shroomans are protecting the realm. Somehow. Whatever they’re doing is helping the realm.
I don’t understand it. Just like I didn’t understand dungeons. All the same. They’re helping the realm.
Terry’s eyes flashed with a new thought of clarity. He added an exclamation mark to his notes to finally settle the taunting words in his mind. “Channeling anchor!”
You’re not hunting the shroomans because of the curse. You’re cursed because you’re hunting the shroomans.
“Someone here is hiding something.”
Terry was scowling to himself.
Fact: The Ungodly Angel would never abandon the shroomans if they were hunted while trying to help their native realm against otherrealm invasion.
Then there is no way that Thuzar would simply disappear and abandon the fight, even if it wasn’t clear that the shroomans had previously helped the Veilbinder.
No way, which means that…
Terry’s fists clenched.
Thuzar probably died in this realm.
“Which would imply that she encountered the dungeon and cast the Aspiring Soul on its constructs before arriving here.”
Or maybe she died while forced to flee from something in this realm? What if she tried to retreat to ours to get help?
No matter which, if the curse only really picked up after her death, then it makes no sense that she cast the Aspiring Soul to fight against the Wrath. If both curses are hers, then the Aspiring Soul was meant to help the dungeon defend against something else.
Something else.
I haven’t seen dungeons turn mad over mana curses before. But why does it trigger for the Wrath’s funghouls then?
“How much did Thuzar know about dungeons? How much could she possibly know if dungeons only first appeared during her time? What drove her to empower a dungeon?”
Right when Terry was about to sit down to brainstorm clues about dungeon behavior and potential otherrealm influence in the realm, his attention was drawn to a mana distortion not far from Shroomling.
Without hesitation, the mana in Terry’s channels roared and he darted to the location. He could sense Bugsby lifting his eyes as well, but since Terry was already moving, the beetlefolk didn’t activate his teleportation ability.
When the hints of mana signatures were revealed, Terry’s mind raced.
He wondered why William wasn’t here
Wondered why Yorgos would come with just two people.
Wondered why he would bring these two people.
Terry’s mind threatened to freeze when he picked up the details of the mana signatures. First, because of their identity.
Then because of the Wrath’s traces in one of them.
Terry’s brief hesitation faded away quickly and he threw his punch exactly where he sensed Yorgos arriving.
“Wha—?!” The dimensional mage had no chance to dodge the fist striking his face. Terry had been too fast. “You mana-damned arseho—!”
“Piss off!” growled Terry.
“Terry, please.” Tiana stepped forward to lay a calming hand on his shoulder. “He isn’t here to bother the shroomans. He’s here just to transport us.”
“How did you even do that?!” Yorgos glared at Terry while rubbing his cheek. As a dimensional mage, he was used to lording over mages using other aspects. His last encounter with the Guardian had been annoying enough, but getting punched before even fully materializing after a teleportation was something else.
It would have been a good question that piqued the interest of Terry’s inner Academy student. His thoughts were briefly invaded by theories of how his sensing through Oz by proxy somehow opened up an increased sensitivity to manipulations in space, presumably influenced by sensing from two of the realm’s planes simultaneously – shadow and regular.
However, Terry didn’t care to indulge his inner Academy student at this point. He was shocked and furious.
“Even if that’s true, what’s going on with Vess?!” Terry glowered at Yorgos and only moved his eyes away to glance at the third arrival. “How in the Wastes did she get infected with the curse?!”
We were all taking precautions. Even if Tiana and Vess were fighting in the Deadlands and getting exposed to more spores, they were also surrounded by the researchers the entire time. If Rafael and I are still fine, then how in the Wastes did Vess catch the curse?
Terry wouldn’t even have been able to voice his fury before landing the punch. He had already reacted with an awful suspicion before his mind was even capable of putting it into words.
Now he saw his suspicion confirmed in the faces of the dimensional mage in front of him before Tiana explained it.
“The moon elves deliberately tried to infect us,” explained Tiana. “It didn’t work with me, because the elementals got in the way, but Vess was not so lucky.”
“Please, Terry, you have to stop this,” pleaded Vess.
How would I be able to stop this?
The pity washed from Terry’s face when he understood what Vess was implying. He swallowed his words for her and instead placed another glare on Yorgos. “And how come he isn’t infected?”
“I didn’t help the Moon with this if that’s what you’re accusing me of,” barked Yorgos. “They didn’t target everyone. Just your companions.”
The only thing preventing Terry’s stomach from dropping was the wrath welling up at the same time.
“For now,” hissed Tiana. “I wouldn’t put it past them to intentionally infect the rest of the expedition. They believe we’re holding back and withholding our help.”
“Because we are!” spat Yorgos. “Or what’s the ‘Guardian’ doing? Worse than not helping. He’s standing in the way. We could already be working on a cure and—”
“On a chance for a cure that costs a sapient life, no matter if it works or not.” Terry spat back. “You’re trusting the moon elves when they pull crap like this? Vess was fighting the funghouls in the Deadlands to help them and they deliberately infected her with the curse?! Those are the people you choose to trust?!”
“I’m not trusting them. I’m trusting our expedition members!” roared Yorgos. “Our own researchers. There is a chance to create a cure if—”
“Would have been great if Vess could have trusted the researchers to keep her safe from the curse!” snapped Terry. “Or trusted the powerful members in her camp like you? But I guess you were too busy eradicating sapient life for an unquantifiable ‘chance’ to cover the back of your camp members?!”
“How is this my fault?!” protested Yorgos.
“How is it not?!” demanded Rafael, who had arrived with glowing claws.
Terry was pretty sure that Rafael had only retorted out of reflex, without actually following the exchange. He appreciated his friend backing him up, regardless. The unexpected interjection also allowed him to calm down somewhat.
Anger brings me nowhere.
“Instructor, do these little people bother you?” growled Deekin, who had rushed after his furry master with a burst of mana. “Worms like you are not worthy of facing my masters!”
“What the Wastes?!” exclaimed Yorgos when seeing a giant radiating mana. A giant that was threatening him at that.
“Did that giant just use a mana burst?” Tiana sent an inquisitive glance at Terry. “‘Instructor’?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” hissed Yorgos. “You’re colluding with giants now, too?”
“Thanks, Deekin, but I can handle this.” Terry tried – and failed – to keep his voice calm. “There’s no need to fight.”
Yet.
Terry looked at Vess, but couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. Instead, he looked at Tiana. “Tell me everything.”
***
Comments
Eragon5713
Betrayal is not cool. Seems like an Evil God or something of the sort is behind some of the factions. I like that Terry can use the Warlord's teachings here. I wonder what is going on behind the scene of the Lich Kingdoms and what their deal is, and who their progenitor is.
Nyroe
I've got to say that you are great at building a mystery and breaking it down piece by piece. The momentum of the last few chapter, this whole arc really, has been fantastic.
