It was with rather less urgency that they left Trachn'ir than that with which they had entered it. Ulric had to, yet again, bow to the wisdom that some problems were solved by more violence, not less.
Could they have resupplied and evaded capture, before making their way stealthily through Celesta? Probably. Ulric had faith that his partner's woodcraft was sufficient unto the task, even if his own lagged significantly behind. However, that would have left a potential enemy at their backs that, allowed to fester, may have resulted in a much greater threat in the future. This way, the slaver threat was almost certainly destroyed and they left Trachn'ir confident that anyone associated with the criminal elements within the area would pass the word that a human trader traveling with an Iriel'en Hunter should be left unmolested, or else.
On that note, Ulric took the time to review his status as they marched at a double time down the frozen river.
[Status]
"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed.
His class had transformed. There had been a sort of…jitteriness to his status, a feeling like change was on the horizon, and that last fight had cemented it. Classes worked less like a template and more like a framework, to guide rather than constrain the growth of a person. In Ulric's case, his tendency to attack aggressively with powerful charges and destructive magical bursts, no doubt flavored strongly by his Ceraunic core, had manifested in a shift away from the generic [Warrior] class and towards the more specific [Ohmic Knight]. It made Ulric smile that the name of his class was so similar to the hypothetical school of magic he'd considered months ago. There definitely seemed to be some aspect of dry humor to the Akashic Record. Or perhaps it only seemed that way because his own humor tended that way and so his experience of the thing was reflected in his status. First [Snake Charmer] and Taipan's status, and now this. Who knew?
In any case, he turned his attention towards the new Ohmic Knight, a combative class built around his ceraunic abilities.
Elementalist had granted him some passive enhancements towards his utilization of magic of the various forms and active skills to use his core's unique signature as a way to sort of dissect the mana around him. That had been incredibly useful to allow Ulric to understand how mana moved and wove itself together within the creatures and environments of Varda, which, in turn, allowed him to better move the mana within himself to control his own magic.
This subclass held synergy with that one in that it took his own predilection for lightning magic and more strongly interwove it with his decidedly offensive fighting style. Ulric's channeling of Ceraun into his sword blade had probably played strongly into this manifestation of his status evolution. It had felt like the right thing to do, just as weaving Caelum and Ceraun to create the [Galvanic Mistral] had felt like the right thing to do, and had effectively allowed him to focus the somewhat random electrical arc to a more potent one that following the tip of his blade, the power emanating from its metal as from an electrode. The master smith that had crafted his weapon had done so with a degree of skill that projected a sort of cutting aura a centimeter or so from the edge of the blade. That alone was potent, but, it would seem the real power of Xef'tocht was in its ability to conduct his own magic through it, focusing it. Like a wizard using a staff, only the staff itself was a dangerous weapon as well.
Ulric's use of [Surge] seemed also to have played a role in guiding his own evolution. He'd learned from the extended battle against the hired goons, holding that enhancement was more trouble than it was worth. It wasted his mana, burned up his body, and left him too exhausted to be worth much after the fact. If they'd come across another gaggle of opponents, it would have been completely up to Taipan to deal with them. Instead, against the Ogran, he'd used short bursts of the skill to amplify his attacks, catching the surprisingly quick creature off guard with his own speed. Clearly, his timing needed work since he'd been unable to dodge those blows from the bastard, he'd have to relearn some of the Elven footwork to account for the increase in speed.
Interestingly, it seemed that his traits had undergone a rather extreme adjustment. Gone were the individual proficiencies, replaced by a more general and encompassing one. He supposed that had to do with his training over the last few months and, very possibly, he had Idra'se to thank for this. Idra's training in the Dance applied to everything, to all forms of combat, hell, philosophically his Dance of One Thousand Steps operated like an Iriel'en Sun Tzu, a general Art of War. Ulric could only hypothesize that the application of these fundamentals over the last couple of weeks against beasts and men alike, had sharpened his understanding of them to the point where they influenced his class.
The other novel trait was fascinating, a piezoelectric shock absorber that converted impacts to heat, which sounded almost like an induction heater. He'd seen one of those melt copper to a white-hot slag, and he had it from the premier metallurgist of the Iriel'en civilization that his sword would take far greater temperature to come close to melting, which meant that it would be a devastating weapon if it absorbed a large number of repeated impacts. He wondered if he'd even be able to hold onto it and that deserved investigation.
Class skills were likewise fascinating. He snorted a short laugh when he saw the name of the skill that was, essentially, an electromagnetic shield set to like poles. It would first polarize the two weapons, to the same potential and then allow him to magnify the deflection against his opponent's weapon. Ulric had a feeling that it would take a relatively skilled hand to employ this technique to its greatest potential, but it would create a window of opportunity, and then, against an opponent who survived that opening, it would create a mind game. Would he trigger the skill or would he not? That alone was an ability worth mastery, to sow doubt in an enemy's mind that his own attacks may be his undoing and slow his arm through fear of reprisal. The second skill was elegant. It held the same conceptual flavor as the Old Japan combat art of Iaido, to strike a lethal blow on the draw of the blade, ending a combat on the same movement as it began.
Ulric was down with that, his bent was very much to bring his opponent down as quickly as possible. The more time they were active, the more time they would be able to bring some magical bullshit to bear against him. His mind frequently returned to the few desperate moments that had separated being evaporated by whatever the fuck that pyromancer had been cooking up and striking first with his lightning. Idra'se valued position overall, but Ulric put speed in a class all its own. An attack that occurred before an enemy could react was superior to the one that came from a weaker position. It didn't matter that your enemy held the advantage if they were too slow to act on it. Not that Ulric doubted much the old Elf's wisdom on things, more that Ulric was frankly too shit at fighting to be able to utilize that Swordmaster's philosophy to its fullest. When Ulric grew up, he would almost certainly strive to gain a position from which there was no need to outpace the enemy.
For now, compromises had to be made and he would play to his strengths while he learned the Dance.
Taipan snapped him out of his meandering. She'd heard his exclamation and studiously ignored his absent mumbling for as long as she could but, eventually, curiosity proved too great a temptation and she simply had to know what had her odd Human partner so clearly agitated.
"What has happened that has [Nettlebugs] down your socks, Glade Chief?" She asked.
Ulric looked up, almost startled, he'd been deep down in Ulric Land.
With a rueful shrug, he replied, "Give me a scan Black Rose." using one of his favorite joking titles for her. The extent to which she must have been interested was clear when she didn't complain or remind him that the last time he'd laid a title on her it had stuck. Instead, her eyes flashed white and she examined his Akashic connection to the world.
Ulric couldn't read her expression currently, she had a tendency to guard her face when she was thinking, no doubt a habit of training. It would pay dividends to develop that sort of poker face when dealing with her father, to prevent the relentless teaser from knowing when he'd drawn blood. A few moments consideration, and she revealed her judgment.
"This is a most fortunate development, Ulric. I had hoped that your diligence in training would prove fruitful and the ferocity of our recent experiences have indeed solidified that foundation. Your subclass amplifies what your instincts direct you to do and this one is rare."
Scrubbing her hand through her shortened hair her breath created a cloud as she exhaled heavily into the frigid air.
"Few enough there are that ever achieve any level of control of Ceraun and none to my knowledge that do it as you do. This has no doubt greatly influenced your class to incorporate these strengths into its adaptations: there is a powerful synergy in these abilities with your core, your combat style, and your physicality." Summarized his Shadow confidently.
Ulric took that assessment in stride, if his more veteran Shadow said it he would tend to believe it.
He felt good about this development. It sort of made all the killing worth it, in a weird way. Their time in Trachn'ir had not been a total loss if it had made him stronger and more able to defend himself, or allowed him to better complement his Shadow's potent abilities. He would form the vanguard and she the flanker in their own little dance.
Among the other things that had changed, one left him with a niggling question that he had, for far too long, failed to address.
"Taipan, what under the Twins does your level mean? It went up after this last fight and I don't know what that means. Also, yours is way higher than mine and I don't know what that information is supposed to tell me, other than that you are a very bad woman to fuck with."
His Shadow chewed her lip briefly as she mulled how she might answer this question most simply, it was a source of debate amongst philosophers. She was no philosopher and preferred the simpler explanation.
"The level is a rough measure of your Reaper's Due, Ulric. All creatures connected to the All Knowledge of Varda leave their imprint on it, some greater, most lesser." Taipan began, tentatively at first and then gaining momentum, “The degree to which beings influence the world is reflected in the transfer of their impact to the one that destroys them. This experience, as it is referred to, is cumulative throughout one's life and the summative level of this experience, this harvesting of impact, serves as a warning and a notice to others that [Scan] you. My level is greater than yours because I have harvested far more Lesser and Greater beasts than you, creatures with a relatively large impact on the world. Similarly, I have dedicated a great amount of time and effort to the culling of Prosper's agents or stymying incursions onto Elfland from Prespang and this also results in a large transfer to my Reaper's Due. In short, I have killed very many things in my life Ulric. A great very many things."
Ulric mulled that over. Her explanation jived with his interpretation of things. There was also the highly relevant first-hand experience he had in that killing the [Forest Lord], the first creature he'd slain in his newly forged life on Varda, had catapulted him to level twenty immediately. Nothing else he'd killed, not Captain Firecracker the dickbag Pyromancer, not the Ogran just now, not the entire pack of [Heckler Monkeys] or the swarm of slaver thugs had come close to that creature's "impact".
"What does that mean about people who might [Scan] me then, oh mine deadly and beloved serpent?" He asked, getting a bemused roll of his Shadow's lovely eyes.
"For one of your relative youth and your heritage? That they wear a fool's mark for making themselves your enemy. You are far higher level than most Humans reach by the time they expire from age. An average Valin or Jormun is somewhere around a level of twelve to fifteen. Experienced soldiers go as high as twenties, those who have fought in wars. Only the very few ever reach levels higher than that and it is nearly unheard of for one to reach the forties. That you are already halfway there at a tender age should be deterrent enough, before ever your titles were read. If our enemies were not comprised of complete [Bark Weasels] they would have scanned one or both of us and fled for their lives." Taipan complained.
She had a real good point there.
"Yeah!" Ulric couldn't help announcing loudly, "What gives with that? Why the hell have so few of these numb nuts tried to exercise any self-preservation around here?"
His Shadow shrugged eloquently.
"Not all, or perhaps even many know how. It is a simple thing, once taught, but few enough have training of any sort in the arcane." Taipan explained.
Ulric let that simmer for a second.
"So, these guys just attack people without having any idea that they might be trying to jump a [Shadow Panther] and, what?, hope to get lucky?"
Taipan chuckled lightly and her hands made the sign for "More or less".
"Just why the fuck would people who are so weak…so bad at fighting think it's a good idea to go hunting someone known to be from an elite class of warriors?" Ulric had to know.
Taipan's eyes lit up and she exclaimed loudly, "That is what I wanted to know!" her musical voice ringing out over the icy flat of their frozen road.
The duo's march was thereafter filled by the adventurer's equivalent to small talk. Mostly they spoke of hunting, a past time both had shared, and Taipan led them down a foray into Ulric's past when he claimed that, with a few known values, he could predict more or less exactly where her arrow would land based on her draw and release point and she demanded that he prove it, which he did, to her astonishment when her arrow landed within a half meter of his calculations upon a scrap of parchment. She asked him what sorcery he used and he said, in a ghostly moan "Calculus", to which she demanded he teach her this dark magic.
Ulric made a point to never speak of guns, lest those evil inventions somehow cross worlds through their mention. A magical fireball of thundering death? Fine. A little five-pound piece of milled steel with a specially designed low-speed explosive flung bullet? Nope. Not because of the power, but because of the accessibility. It was hard work figuring out how that fireball operated and coming to the magical discipline needed to cast one, and only a few could ever manage to do it at any scale. But guns? Any moron could use one and that's what made them dangerous.
In spite of Ulric's bruised ribs, Taipan pushed a solid pace, and they were well into the fall of the Twins before she made a detour from the river to find a suitable place to camp. They ended up digging into a snow bank, forgoing the effort of setting up the shelter in favor of a more discreet option. It took rather less time than Ulric would have thought for the two of them to excavate their hideaway and, though his chest burned for it, they were ensconced within the icy cave with plenty of daylight to spare. Ulric used his priceless weapon to cut a small circular channel up through the roof of their shelter and they were then able to make a small fire that would draw air from the entry tunnel and up through this vent to keep the place snug and smoke-free.
For Ulric's first real test as a warrior, as a man committed to his path, he figured he rated about a six out of ten. He'd been a little slow to action, had needed to lean on his Shadow a little too much, but when the shit hit the fan, he'd been there to back her up and they both pulled through relatively unscathed. What made him better pleased about the sequence of events was, when he reviewed them with a critical eye with Taipan that night, there was close to nil in the way of luck involved. The only real piece of fortune was that the thugs had been too stupid to dispose of their copy of orders. Everything else was, essentially, a forced error by he and his partner's actions. Not too shabby. Not too shabby at all. Huddled against the warm form of his sylvan wife, the both of them fully clothed to ward away the cold that occasionally blew past their stacked packs in the entry tunnel, Ulric slept well satisfied.
The little snow cave worked wonders for keeping them warm through the night, the insulating power of powder layered atop compressed ice proving more than adequate against what proved to be one of the coldest nights of the year. When they crawled free of their shelter, however, it was to greet a razored wind. No mere gusts either, this was a pushing, driving front that carried arctic fury. Snow was falling heavily but it was so fine, so absent substance that it refrained from being an actual blizzard. This was infinitesimal crystals being forced out of the upper atmosphere by a sudden blast of cold that squeezed the water from the air in its icy grip.
Shivering slightly as his body accustomed itself, he was somewhat regretful of their prolonged delay. He slapped his cheeks lightly, discarding that feeling. Done was done, move along soldier boy.
Taipan went so far as to unstring her bow to protect it from the effects of the sheer cold, declaring that it would be as likely to shatter as to shoot under these conditions. When Ulric asked if there were any beasts that were willing to move about in these kinds of conditions, she reported that several creatures were more than happy to call this not quite frozen gale their preferred hunting ground. Things akin to the snow wraiths that they'd encountered earlier were not just comfortable with this deathly chill, they were optimal in it.
Varda, it would seem, held no lack of monstrous motivation to keep your head on a swivel.
The rising suns sent a kaleidoscopic array of shimmering clouds to bathe them as the wind drove relentlessly the falling and already fallen snow to drifting. Covering the head and face was absolutely paramount to avoiding frostbite, even when the two were exerting themselves somewhat strenuously to make good time. It was so cold that, twice before noon, the two of them were forced to stop and make a fire to warm themselves back to peak condition or face damage to their extremities. That was no short process for the fire lay had to be hidden from the wind and the frigid fuel resisted catching. Ulric would eventually have to use his [Voltaic Grip] to create char on their gathered sticks to help the budding flame of their tinder catch hold.
Noon itself found Ulric taking a leading position to break through chest deep snow drifts, his superior strength necessary as Taipan simply didn't have the bulk to do the task for the length of time their travel required without rest. She could, to some extent, run atop the snow but that was unpredictable, blown snow had not packed well and even her agile balance would not prevent her going through a fresh bank to her armpits. The pair had snowshoes but Taipan declined to use them, too cumbersome if they encountered some predator that thrived in this Wintery mess of a frozen hellscape. With the winds howling and their vision obscured to merely twenty or so meters, the practiced Hunter could not guarantee that she would spot a threat before it became a problem and so, to be ready for combat at a moment's notice was the flavor of the day.
Nothing braved the elements to test the pair that day, for which Ulric thanked the Watcher, Irielhos, and all the gods great and small. His ribs burned fiercely with the exertion of kicking through snowbanks with better than forty kilos on his back. Taipan relented at Midsunsfall, bowing to the power of the seasons, and called for a halt. She had spotted a thick stand of fir, just as the day before, and wanted to utilize it to set up their shelter without having to dig another cave. They were both gassed.
Ulric slid down the embankment into this coniferous haven gladly and unburdened himself instantly. Taipan joined him and they brushed the snow off one another lest it melt into their clothes, a real risk now that they were stopping and without the fell wind that stripped heat away as soon as it was found. To be marginally warmer and wet was a death sentence, no matter how hardy you were. The only things that could flourish in the kind of weather raging out there were the beasts that held a healthy affinity to Infrig, of which there were not a few.
Camp went up much as had become usual, the practiced motions of the pair carried out in silence. The crackle of fire shed the eternal gloom of the densely covered hollow and Ulric was happy to spend a few minutes crouched over the flitting tongues of flame with Taipan propped up against his hip. Two pairs of hands sought the heat of the small blaze and rejoiced in its glow. Upon pulling their boots off, the both of them found evidence of slight frostbite, the cold having been intense enough to make its way through multiple layers of socks and fur linings to inflict some degree of harm to their toes. It was slightly comical that the two of them sat face to face with their legs interlocked so that they could rub the feeling back into each other's feet. Ah, such is love on an adventure.
There was a quiet intimacy to their tendings of one another, neither he nor his Shadow could be slandered as talkers. Both enjoyed the subtle sounds of the wild to words that held little purpose other than to be spoken aloud. It was enough that they were together and that their presences, lingering glances, and sometimes smiles, could bring companionship. Ulric had a feeling that there had been precious few that walked this rock that had ever seen Taipan in this manner, relaxed and without care, though the flick of her ears and the almost unconscious scan of her eyes told him that she had not abandoned her vigilance. Similarly, Ulric himself, always a great advocate of One's Own Company, was strangely at peace with sharing it.
Light faded around the camp before the huddled vision of sylvan beauty uttered surrender from the cozy fortress of her blankets, "I believe we should wait out the Last Gasp, Ulric. I find that I am more fond of my toes than I remember."
Ulric nodded and spoke with the certainty of a prophet, "No good will come of us stomping through a whiteout while our merry asses freeze off."
Thus, agreed on their course, they settled in to wait out the storm in relative comfort. Records kept for hundreds of years would place this Winter's Last Gasp amongst the coldest in memory. Not a few trees, even ones enhanced through the mysterious evolutionary guidance of Varda and its Watcher, shattered close enough to startle the pair with some regularity. It was worse at night, when even their fire, gathered into the shelter itself, struggled to battle the killing air. Other than to eat, drink, desperately harvest firewood, or relieve themselves, the pair hunkered down under their blankets and patently refused to move. Aside from making glorious whoopy for the sole purpose of staying warm, of course. You would do well, if ever you find yourself with willing company in such conditions, to practice this age-old method of creating vital heat, it beats jumping jacks all to shit.
Three days of this left Ulric at the height of his powers and he had found most, perhaps not all, of the places that turned his magnificent wife to jelly. He practiced their use against her to great effect. She, in turn, had never had to struggle greatly to light his fires but had elevated her arts to the point of needing to be careful, lest she cut their morning, noon, or evening short by rendering him into blissful hibernation. The wildlife must have been driven to insane jealousy at the goings on.
When at last the temperatures rose, they did so on a bemused pair that had probably forgotten how to blush.
Ulric gently shook the bare shoulder that sprawled across his chest and was rewarded with a string of drool connecting his vision of a wife's mouth to his sternum. Her bleary eyes focused, the viridian green irises returned since she'd stopped using the eyedrops while they hid from the Winter storm, and she gave him a lopsided grin after dragging her forearm across her face.
"What? Ready again?" She asked the challenge loud in her lilting voice, "Because I will not give in this match until you are Husbanded to within an inch of your Valin life."
"And no cheating with your thumb this time!" the Elf demanded, still unable to counter that weapon.
"Easy now lass, I don't think you left anything but skin to me. Your demon work is complete." Ulric proclaimed, knowing when he was defeated, "I only woke you because I'm pretty sure the cold snap broke last night. There's an absence of bitterness to the air."
Taipan lifted herself up to look around which placed her full bosom in a far too convenient location and Ulric, contrary to his claim of weakness, was not above biting to secure victory. Unfortunately, his adversary held the high ground and used it to steal away his initiative, to both their delights. When she completed her foul ritual, she ruffled his lengthening hair and rose to greet the dawn, secure in her dominance.
Sometimes, Ulric, he told himself, you have to lose to win.
By the time he managed to drag himself from his stupor his Shadow had already restored herself to dignity and raised the fire to cooking temperature. The pair of them had eaten little and only from travel rations, not willing to expend more fuel for something drawn out during their *cough* repose. He pulled his clothes on and was glad to note that his ribs had healed completely. He'd have recovered sooner had he been willing to let bygones be bygones but Taipan had started it, this time, and he refused to show weakness when a gallant response to shameless provocation was clearly called for. She claimed that his lightning scars were grossly unfair but he knew her deceiving ways.
Both knew that today would be one for long travel, as far as they could manage, and they ate in preparation to fuel that journey. The shelter they rolled around in the snow for a minute before packing away. To be absolutely frank, it stank like fucking and, while neither of them was particularly ashamed of that, it didn't do to advertise yourself so loudly to predators.
The weather had indeed cleared when they broke out from the drifted snow around their haven, easily two meters higher than it had been before they'd entered. On went the snowshoes and Taipan led the way, scanning for signs of life beneath fresh snow.
Ulric noted as they walked that the suns felt like they touched a little more directly and the wind, dropped down to only the odd gust, held none of the bite of the weeks prior. He could just damn near smell spring on its way, in spite of the arctic landscape through which they traversed. Speaking of the terrain, the paragon of Iriel'en Hunters chose a path that did not return them to the trade roads. Instead, she made her way through warrens of trees, snow piled so high that they nearly created a tunnel between the frosted lower branches of the far closer canopies of these lowland trees. With the Twins rising overhead, Ulric noted that the bearing they took was almost due North. He unconsciously checked his sword's position and put his thumbs under the straps of his heavy pack as he leaned into the rigorous pace of their march.
Taipan had insisted that he keep his [Ceraunoperception] up at all times, it had been instrumental to recognizing their enemy's tracking, despite their ability to avoid detection within the crowds of people mobbing city streets. He didn't mind, the drain on his mana was relatively low as long as he wasn't trying to reach way farther than he could even process at this point, and it made for good practice. It was also highly informative as to just how badly his vision served him given that he could resolve with this skill dozens of life forms hiding within the environment that his eyes simply failed to notice. Perhaps his skillful Iriel'en wife could pick these hidden beasts up but certainly not himself. Of course, if she thought there was no risk of missing something, she wouldn't have asked him to maintain the alertness, so that added a bit of gumption to his mana-driven canvass of their surroundings.
Caution paid dividends. They bypassed three hidden dens, one of which had a form suspiciously similar to the [Shrieking Ravager] of recent notoriety. Little desire did either of them have to ever see one of those beasts again. A little later, after what Ulric thought was a harmless question about his [Ceraunoperception] going fuzzy in an area, he saw his Shadow freeze followed by a gesture to turn and run, which sent Ulric scrambling to keep up with his more graceful companion in these goofy snowshoes as she made egress to bypass what had appeared to Ulric's senses as a field of static whose mention triggered her abrupt evacuation. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that he wasn't quite sure that cloud of static didn't turn to follow them for a few minutes. Whatever it was, Taipan had them both running for a solid hour afterward and didn't waste breath to explain until they were nearly twenty kilometers away.
Ulric was leaning his back against a tree with his pack on the snow to recover while the athletic Elf next to him drew in deep breaths to restore her wind. Even as physically gifted as they both were, nobody makes that kind of pace wearing tennis rackets on their feet and humping gear without dragging major ass afterward.
"So, what exactly were we nearly killed by?" Ulric inquired, certain of the reason that his able partner had led them on this rousing leg.
Sober as a judge, Taipan informed him "Elemental." as if that explained everything.
Previous lessons in Awakenings, magic, and the nature of elements had seen him explained as to what an elemental was, according to the Aes'r reckoning, and how a mage might become one but never had anybody mentioned that they were dangerous enough to send as potent a force as his Shadow running for the bloody hills.
When Ulric didn't react, Taipan's lovely brows furrowed and she muttered Elvish recriminations against herself for forgetting that he knew essentially only what he'd been told within her hearing about most of Varda.
"Apologies, Ulric, I forget occasionally that you still have so much to learn. That was an Infrig Elemental you saw with your perception. They are incredibly hazardous to come across in Winter, being nearly invisible. It was nothing but a wind-blown cloud of snow to mine eyes. In addition to this, they can pull the heat from nearly anything they touch within moments. Infrig elementals within this season can turn a creature of flesh and blood to frozen dust before they know that they've fallen within its grasp." She explained.
It sounded incredibly similar to the [Absolute Zero] spell he'd crafted so very long ago, and which he had since lost access to upon Awakening his Ceraunic core. He mentioned as much and she indicated that there were certainly parallels.
That thought was frankly horrifying because his Infrig spell ranked with the most destructive things he could do, the damned spell basically rendered complex matter to individual molecules, stealing the energy of the chemical and electrostatic bonds that held it together. Its weakness was in how taxing it was for him to use, it drew incredible amounts of mana to power for relatively small volumes of space in the cold field. Even so, prior to his Awakening, it represented a touch of death spell should he find himself in dire straits. That being of pure Infrig enacted a similar effect but upon a colossal space compared to what he could generate was more than a little horrifying. Taipan's flight was certainly well reasoned then, how do you even fight a creature made of pure cold?
He posed the question aloud.
"You do not, Ulric. You die is what happens. Elementals are vastly more powerful than any mage but an archmage. They are perfectly in tune with themselves, are capable of harnessing incredibly dense weaves of magic within moments, as if an entire choir of mages cast in unison." Was her wry answer.
Damn. That put a bit more context into what exactly he'd experienced when he saw the prime Ceraun elemental then, didn't it? A sprite, a living lightning storm connecting the atmosphere to the infinite void lived in the outer reaches of this world, and Ulric had witnessed it, had been called to it during his Awakening. The creature had pulled him to see from its alien perspective through the lightning mana he'd been condensing in his own core, the same energy that made up this pseudo, or not so pseudo, godling. It was an experience that a mortal mind cannot fathom and Ulric was left with vague impressions that Ceraun, the prime, was an avatar of the electromagnetic force incarnate. It had set him to wondering what the Aquae or Incendere primes might be. The Ocean? The Sun?
Whatever, point was, he'd better keep his ducks in a row or they might run into something they couldn't unrun into.
It was with rather less urgency that they left Trachn'ir than that with which they had entered it. Ulric had to, yet again, bow to the wisdom that some problems were solved by more violence, not less.
Could they have resupplied and evaded capture, before making their way stealthily through Celesta? Probably. Ulric had faith that his partner's woodcraft was sufficient unto the task, even if his own lagged significantly behind. However, that would have left a potential enemy at their backs that, allowed to fester, may have resulted in a much greater threat in the future. This way, the slaver threat was almost certainly destroyed and they left Trachn'ir confident that anyone associated with the criminal elements within the area would pass the word that a human trader traveling with an Iriel'en Hunter should be left unmolested, or else.
On that note, Ulric took the time to review his status as they marched at a double time down the frozen river.
[Status]
"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed.
His class had transformed. There had been a sort of…jitteriness to his status, a feeling like change was on the horizon, and that last fight had cemented it. Classes worked less like a template and more like a framework, to guide rather than constrain the growth of a person. In Ulric's case, his tendency to attack aggressively with powerful charges and destructive magical bursts, no doubt flavored strongly by his Ceraunic core, had manifested in a shift away from the generic [Warrior] class and towards the more specific [Ohmic Knight]. It made Ulric smile that the name of his class was so similar to the hypothetical school of magic he'd considered months ago. There definitely seemed to be some aspect of dry humor to the Akashic Record. Or perhaps it only seemed that way because his own humor tended that way and so his experience of the thing was reflected in his status. First [Snake Charmer] and Taipan's status, and now this. Who knew?
In any case, he turned his attention towards the new Ohmic Knight, a combative class built around his ceraunic abilities.
Elementalist had granted him some passive enhancements towards his utilization of magic of the various forms and active skills to use his core's unique signature as a way to sort of dissect the mana around him. That had been incredibly useful to allow Ulric to understand how mana moved and wove itself together within the creatures and environments of Varda, which, in turn, allowed him to better move the mana within himself to control his own magic.
This subclass held synergy with that one in that it took his own predilection for lightning magic and more strongly interwove it with his decidedly offensive fighting style. Ulric's channeling of Ceraun into his sword blade had probably played strongly into this manifestation of his status evolution. It had felt like the right thing to do, just as weaving Caelum and Ceraun to create the [Galvanic Mistral] had felt like the right thing to do, and had effectively allowed him to focus the somewhat random electrical arc to a more potent one that following the tip of his blade, the power emanating from its metal as from an electrode. The master smith that had crafted his weapon had done so with a degree of skill that projected a sort of cutting aura a centimeter or so from the edge of the blade. That alone was potent, but, it would seem the real power of Xef'tocht was in its ability to conduct his own magic through it, focusing it. Like a wizard using a staff, only the staff itself was a dangerous weapon as well.
Ulric's use of [Surge] seemed also to have played a role in guiding his own evolution. He'd learned from the extended battle against the hired goons, holding that enhancement was more trouble than it was worth. It wasted his mana, burned up his body, and left him too exhausted to be worth much after the fact. If they'd come across another gaggle of opponents, it would have been completely up to Taipan to deal with them. Instead, against the Ogran, he'd used short bursts of the skill to amplify his attacks, catching the surprisingly quick creature off guard with his own speed. Clearly, his timing needed work since he'd been unable to dodge those blows from the bastard, he'd have to relearn some of the Elven footwork to account for the increase in speed.
Interestingly, it seemed that his traits had undergone a rather extreme adjustment. Gone were the individual proficiencies, replaced by a more general and encompassing one. He supposed that had to do with his training over the last few months and, very possibly, he had Idra'se to thank for this. Idra's training in the Dance applied to everything, to all forms of combat, hell, philosophically his Dance of One Thousand Steps operated like an Iriel'en Sun Tzu, a general Art of War. Ulric could only hypothesize that the application of these fundamentals over the last couple of weeks against beasts and men alike, had sharpened his understanding of them to the point where they influenced his class.
The other novel trait was fascinating, a piezoelectric shock absorber that converted impacts to heat, which sounded almost like an induction heater. He'd seen one of those melt copper to a white-hot slag, and he had it from the premier metallurgist of the Iriel'en civilization that his sword would take far greater temperature to come close to melting, which meant that it would be a devastating weapon if it absorbed a large number of repeated impacts. He wondered if he'd even be able to hold onto it and that deserved investigation.
Class skills were likewise fascinating. He snorted a short laugh when he saw the name of the skill that was, essentially, an electromagnetic shield set to like poles. It would first polarize the two weapons, to the same potential and then allow him to magnify the deflection against his opponent's weapon. Ulric had a feeling that it would take a relatively skilled hand to employ this technique to its greatest potential, but it would create a window of opportunity, and then, against an opponent who survived that opening, it would create a mind game. Would he trigger the skill or would he not? That alone was an ability worth mastery, to sow doubt in an enemy's mind that his own attacks may be his undoing and slow his arm through fear of reprisal. The second skill was elegant. It held the same conceptual flavor as the Old Japan combat art of Iaido, to strike a lethal blow on the draw of the blade, ending a combat on the same movement as it began.
Ulric was down with that, his bent was very much to bring his opponent down as quickly as possible. The more time they were active, the more time they would be able to bring some magical bullshit to bear against him. His mind frequently returned to the few desperate moments that had separated being evaporated by whatever the fuck that pyromancer had been cooking up and striking first with his lightning. Idra'se valued position overall, but Ulric put speed in a class all its own. An attack that occurred before an enemy could react was superior to the one that came from a weaker position. It didn't matter that your enemy held the advantage if they were too slow to act on it. Not that Ulric doubted much the old Elf's wisdom on things, more that Ulric was frankly too shit at fighting to be able to utilize that Swordmaster's philosophy to its fullest. When Ulric grew up, he would almost certainly strive to gain a position from which there was no need to outpace the enemy.
For now, compromises had to be made and he would play to his strengths while he learned the Dance.
Taipan snapped him out of his meandering. She'd heard his exclamation and studiously ignored his absent mumbling for as long as she could but, eventually, curiosity proved too great a temptation and she simply had to know what had her odd Human partner so clearly agitated.
"What has happened that has [Nettlebugs] down your socks, Glade Chief?" She asked.
Ulric looked up, almost startled, he'd been deep down in Ulric Land.
With a rueful shrug, he replied, "Give me a scan Black Rose." using one of his favorite joking titles for her. The extent to which she must have been interested was clear when she didn't complain or remind him that the last time he'd laid a title on her it had stuck. Instead, her eyes flashed white and she examined his Akashic connection to the world.
Ulric couldn't read her expression currently, she had a tendency to guard her face when she was thinking, no doubt a habit of training. It would pay dividends to develop that sort of poker face when dealing with her father, to prevent the relentless teaser from knowing when he'd drawn blood. A few moments consideration, and she revealed her judgment.
"This is a most fortunate development, Ulric. I had hoped that your diligence in training would prove fruitful and the ferocity of our recent experiences have indeed solidified that foundation. Your subclass amplifies what your instincts direct you to do and this one is rare."
Scrubbing her hand through her shortened hair her breath created a cloud as she exhaled heavily into the frigid air.
"Few enough there are that ever achieve any level of control of Ceraun and none to my knowledge that do it as you do. This has no doubt greatly influenced your class to incorporate these strengths into its adaptations: there is a powerful synergy in these abilities with your core, your combat style, and your physicality." Summarized his Shadow confidently.
Ulric took that assessment in stride, if his more veteran Shadow said it he would tend to believe it.
He felt good about this development. It sort of made all the killing worth it, in a weird way. Their time in Trachn'ir had not been a total loss if it had made him stronger and more able to defend himself, or allowed him to better complement his Shadow's potent abilities. He would form the vanguard and she the flanker in their own little dance.
Among the other things that had changed, one left him with a niggling question that he had, for far too long, failed to address.
"Taipan, what under the Twins does your level mean? It went up after this last fight and I don't know what that means. Also, yours is way higher than mine and I don't know what that information is supposed to tell me, other than that you are a very bad woman to fuck with."
His Shadow chewed her lip briefly as she mulled how she might answer this question most simply, it was a source of debate amongst philosophers. She was no philosopher and preferred the simpler explanation.
"The level is a rough measure of your Reaper's Due, Ulric. All creatures connected to the All Knowledge of Varda leave their imprint on it, some greater, most lesser." Taipan began, tentatively at first and then gaining momentum, “The degree to which beings influence the world is reflected in the transfer of their impact to the one that destroys them. This experience, as it is referred to, is cumulative throughout one's life and the summative level of this experience, this harvesting of impact, serves as a warning and a notice to others that [Scan] you. My level is greater than yours because I have harvested far more Lesser and Greater beasts than you, creatures with a relatively large impact on the world. Similarly, I have dedicated a great amount of time and effort to the culling of Prosper's agents or stymying incursions onto Elfland from Prespang and this also results in a large transfer to my Reaper's Due. In short, I have killed very many things in my life Ulric. A great very many things."
Ulric mulled that over. Her explanation jived with his interpretation of things. There was also the highly relevant first-hand experience he had in that killing the [Forest Lord], the first creature he'd slain in his newly forged life on Varda, had catapulted him to level twenty immediately. Nothing else he'd killed, not Captain Firecracker the dickbag Pyromancer, not the Ogran just now, not the entire pack of [Heckler Monkeys] or the swarm of slaver thugs had come close to that creature's "impact".
"What does that mean about people who might [Scan] me then, oh mine deadly and beloved serpent?" He asked, getting a bemused roll of his Shadow's lovely eyes.
"For one of your relative youth and your heritage? That they wear a fool's mark for making themselves your enemy. You are far higher level than most Humans reach by the time they expire from age. An average Valin or Jormun is somewhere around a level of twelve to fifteen. Experienced soldiers go as high as twenties, those who have fought in wars. Only the very few ever reach levels higher than that and it is nearly unheard of for one to reach the forties. That you are already halfway there at a tender age should be deterrent enough, before ever your titles were read. If our enemies were not comprised of complete [Bark Weasels] they would have scanned one or both of us and fled for their lives." Taipan complained.
She had a real good point there.
"Yeah!" Ulric couldn't help announcing loudly, "What gives with that? Why the hell have so few of these numb nuts tried to exercise any self-preservation around here?"
His Shadow shrugged eloquently.
"Not all, or perhaps even many know how. It is a simple thing, once taught, but few enough have training of any sort in the arcane." Taipan explained.
Ulric let that simmer for a second.
"So, these guys just attack people without having any idea that they might be trying to jump a [Shadow Panther] and, what?, hope to get lucky?"
Taipan chuckled lightly and her hands made the sign for "More or less".
"Just why the fuck would people who are so weak…so bad at fighting think it's a good idea to go hunting someone known to be from an elite class of warriors?" Ulric had to know.
Taipan's eyes lit up and she exclaimed loudly, "That is what I wanted to know!" her musical voice ringing out over the icy flat of their frozen road.
The duo's march was thereafter filled by the adventurer's equivalent to small talk. Mostly they spoke of hunting, a past time both had shared, and Taipan led them down a foray into Ulric's past when he claimed that, with a few known values, he could predict more or less exactly where her arrow would land based on her draw and release point and she demanded that he prove it, which he did, to her astonishment when her arrow landed within a half meter of his calculations upon a scrap of parchment. She asked him what sorcery he used and he said, in a ghostly moan "Calculus", to which she demanded he teach her this dark magic.
Ulric made a point to never speak of guns, lest those evil inventions somehow cross worlds through their mention. A magical fireball of thundering death? Fine. A little five-pound piece of milled steel with a specially designed low-speed explosive flung bullet? Nope. Not because of the power, but because of the accessibility. It was hard work figuring out how that fireball operated and coming to the magical discipline needed to cast one, and only a few could ever manage to do it at any scale. But guns? Any moron could use one and that's what made them dangerous.
In spite of Ulric's bruised ribs, Taipan pushed a solid pace, and they were well into the fall of the Twins before she made a detour from the river to find a suitable place to camp. They ended up digging into a snow bank, forgoing the effort of setting up the shelter in favor of a more discreet option. It took rather less time than Ulric would have thought for the two of them to excavate their hideaway and, though his chest burned for it, they were ensconced within the icy cave with plenty of daylight to spare. Ulric used his priceless weapon to cut a small circular channel up through the roof of their shelter and they were then able to make a small fire that would draw air from the entry tunnel and up through this vent to keep the place snug and smoke-free.
For Ulric's first real test as a warrior, as a man committed to his path, he figured he rated about a six out of ten. He'd been a little slow to action, had needed to lean on his Shadow a little too much, but when the shit hit the fan, he'd been there to back her up and they both pulled through relatively unscathed. What made him better pleased about the sequence of events was, when he reviewed them with a critical eye with Taipan that night, there was close to nil in the way of luck involved. The only real piece of fortune was that the thugs had been too stupid to dispose of their copy of orders. Everything else was, essentially, a forced error by he and his partner's actions. Not too shabby. Not too shabby at all. Huddled against the warm form of his sylvan wife, the both of them fully clothed to ward away the cold that occasionally blew past their stacked packs in the entry tunnel, Ulric slept well satisfied.
The little snow cave worked wonders for keeping them warm through the night, the insulating power of powder layered atop compressed ice proving more than adequate against what proved to be one of the coldest nights of the year. When they crawled free of their shelter, however, it was to greet a razored wind. No mere gusts either, this was a pushing, driving front that carried arctic fury. Snow was falling heavily but it was so fine, so absent substance that it refrained from being an actual blizzard. This was infinitesimal crystals being forced out of the upper atmosphere by a sudden blast of cold that squeezed the water from the air in its icy grip.
Shivering slightly as his body accustomed itself, he was somewhat regretful of their prolonged delay. He slapped his cheeks lightly, discarding that feeling. Done was done, move along soldier boy.
Taipan went so far as to unstring her bow to protect it from the effects of the sheer cold, declaring that it would be as likely to shatter as to shoot under these conditions. When Ulric asked if there were any beasts that were willing to move about in these kinds of conditions, she reported that several creatures were more than happy to call this not quite frozen gale their preferred hunting ground. Things akin to the snow wraiths that they'd encountered earlier were not just comfortable with this deathly chill, they were optimal in it.
Varda, it would seem, held no lack of monstrous motivation to keep your head on a swivel.
The rising suns sent a kaleidoscopic array of shimmering clouds to bathe them as the wind drove relentlessly the falling and already fallen snow to drifting. Covering the head and face was absolutely paramount to avoiding frostbite, even when the two were exerting themselves somewhat strenuously to make good time. It was so cold that, twice before noon, the two of them were forced to stop and make a fire to warm themselves back to peak condition or face damage to their extremities. That was no short process for the fire lay had to be hidden from the wind and the frigid fuel resisted catching. Ulric would eventually have to use his [Voltaic Grip] to create char on their gathered sticks to help the budding flame of their tinder catch hold.
Noon itself found Ulric taking a leading position to break through chest deep snow drifts, his superior strength necessary as Taipan simply didn't have the bulk to do the task for the length of time their travel required without rest. She could, to some extent, run atop the snow but that was unpredictable, blown snow had not packed well and even her agile balance would not prevent her going through a fresh bank to her armpits. The pair had snowshoes but Taipan declined to use them, too cumbersome if they encountered some predator that thrived in this Wintery mess of a frozen hellscape. With the winds howling and their vision obscured to merely twenty or so meters, the practiced Hunter could not guarantee that she would spot a threat before it became a problem and so, to be ready for combat at a moment's notice was the flavor of the day.
Nothing braved the elements to test the pair that day, for which Ulric thanked the Watcher, Irielhos, and all the gods great and small. His ribs burned fiercely with the exertion of kicking through snowbanks with better than forty kilos on his back. Taipan relented at Midsunsfall, bowing to the power of the seasons, and called for a halt. She had spotted a thick stand of fir, just as the day before, and wanted to utilize it to set up their shelter without having to dig another cave. They were both gassed.
Ulric slid down the embankment into this coniferous haven gladly and unburdened himself instantly. Taipan joined him and they brushed the snow off one another lest it melt into their clothes, a real risk now that they were stopping and without the fell wind that stripped heat away as soon as it was found. To be marginally warmer and wet was a death sentence, no matter how hardy you were. The only things that could flourish in the kind of weather raging out there were the beasts that held a healthy affinity to Infrig, of which there were not a few.
Camp went up much as had become usual, the practiced motions of the pair carried out in silence. The crackle of fire shed the eternal gloom of the densely covered hollow and Ulric was happy to spend a few minutes crouched over the flitting tongues of flame with Taipan propped up against his hip. Two pairs of hands sought the heat of the small blaze and rejoiced in its glow. Upon pulling their boots off, the both of them found evidence of slight frostbite, the cold having been intense enough to make its way through multiple layers of socks and fur linings to inflict some degree of harm to their toes. It was slightly comical that the two of them sat face to face with their legs interlocked so that they could rub the feeling back into each other's feet. Ah, such is love on an adventure.
There was a quiet intimacy to their tendings of one another, neither he nor his Shadow could be slandered as talkers. Both enjoyed the subtle sounds of the wild to words that held little purpose other than to be spoken aloud. It was enough that they were together and that their presences, lingering glances, and sometimes smiles, could bring companionship. Ulric had a feeling that there had been precious few that walked this rock that had ever seen Taipan in this manner, relaxed and without care, though the flick of her ears and the almost unconscious scan of her eyes told him that she had not abandoned her vigilance. Similarly, Ulric himself, always a great advocate of One's Own Company, was strangely at peace with sharing it.
Light faded around the camp before the huddled vision of sylvan beauty uttered surrender from the cozy fortress of her blankets, "I believe we should wait out the Last Gasp, Ulric. I find that I am more fond of my toes than I remember."
Ulric nodded and spoke with the certainty of a prophet, "No good will come of us stomping through a whiteout while our merry asses freeze off."
Thus, agreed on their course, they settled in to wait out the storm in relative comfort. Records kept for hundreds of years would place this Winter's Last Gasp amongst the coldest in memory. Not a few trees, even ones enhanced through the mysterious evolutionary guidance of Varda and its Watcher, shattered close enough to startle the pair with some regularity. It was worse at night, when even their fire, gathered into the shelter itself, struggled to battle the killing air. Other than to eat, drink, desperately harvest firewood, or relieve themselves, the pair hunkered down under their blankets and patently refused to move. Aside from making glorious whoopy for the sole purpose of staying warm, of course. You would do well, if ever you find yourself with willing company in such conditions, to practice this age-old method of creating vital heat, it beats jumping jacks all to shit.
Three days of this left Ulric at the height of his powers and he had found most, perhaps not all, of the places that turned his magnificent wife to jelly. He practiced their use against her to great effect. She, in turn, had never had to struggle greatly to light his fires but had elevated her arts to the point of needing to be careful, lest she cut their morning, noon, or evening short by rendering him into blissful hibernation. The wildlife must have been driven to insane jealousy at the goings on.
When at last the temperatures rose, they did so on a bemused pair that had probably forgotten how to blush.
Ulric gently shook the bare shoulder that sprawled across his chest and was rewarded with a string of drool connecting his vision of a wife's mouth to his sternum. Her bleary eyes focused, the viridian green irises returned since she'd stopped using the eyedrops while they hid from the Winter storm, and she gave him a lopsided grin after dragging her forearm across her face.
"What? Ready again?" She asked the challenge loud in her lilting voice, "Because I will not give in this match until you are Husbanded to within an inch of your Valin life."
"And no cheating with your thumb this time!" the Elf demanded, still unable to counter that weapon.
"Easy now lass, I don't think you left anything but skin to me. Your demon work is complete." Ulric proclaimed, knowing when he was defeated, "I only woke you because I'm pretty sure the cold snap broke last night. There's an absence of bitterness to the air."
Taipan lifted herself up to look around which placed her full bosom in a far too convenient location and Ulric, contrary to his claim of weakness, was not above biting to secure victory. Unfortunately, his adversary held the high ground and used it to steal away his initiative, to both their delights. When she completed her foul ritual, she ruffled his lengthening hair and rose to greet the dawn, secure in her dominance.
Sometimes, Ulric, he told himself, you have to lose to win.
By the time he managed to drag himself from his stupor his Shadow had already restored herself to dignity and raised the fire to cooking temperature. The pair of them had eaten little and only from travel rations, not willing to expend more fuel for something drawn out during their *cough* repose. He pulled his clothes on and was glad to note that his ribs had healed completely. He'd have recovered sooner had he been willing to let bygones be bygones but Taipan had started it, this time, and he refused to show weakness when a gallant response to shameless provocation was clearly called for. She claimed that his lightning scars were grossly unfair but he knew her deceiving ways.
Both knew that today would be one for long travel, as far as they could manage, and they ate in preparation to fuel that journey. The shelter they rolled around in the snow for a minute before packing away. To be absolutely frank, it stank like fucking and, while neither of them was particularly ashamed of that, it didn't do to advertise yourself so loudly to predators.
The weather had indeed cleared when they broke out from the drifted snow around their haven, easily two meters higher than it had been before they'd entered. On went the snowshoes and Taipan led the way, scanning for signs of life beneath fresh snow.
Ulric noted as they walked that the suns felt like they touched a little more directly and the wind, dropped down to only the odd gust, held none of the bite of the weeks prior. He could just damn near smell spring on its way, in spite of the arctic landscape through which they traversed. Speaking of the terrain, the paragon of Iriel'en Hunters chose a path that did not return them to the trade roads. Instead, she made her way through warrens of trees, snow piled so high that they nearly created a tunnel between the frosted lower branches of the far closer canopies of these lowland trees. With the Twins rising overhead, Ulric noted that the bearing they took was almost due North. He unconsciously checked his sword's position and put his thumbs under the straps of his heavy pack as he leaned into the rigorous pace of their march.
Taipan had insisted that he keep his [Ceraunoperception] up at all times, it had been instrumental to recognizing their enemy's tracking, despite their ability to avoid detection within the crowds of people mobbing city streets. He didn't mind, the drain on his mana was relatively low as long as he wasn't trying to reach way farther than he could even process at this point, and it made for good practice. It was also highly informative as to just how badly his vision served him given that he could resolve with this skill dozens of life forms hiding within the environment that his eyes simply failed to notice. Perhaps his skillful Iriel'en wife could pick these hidden beasts up but certainly not himself. Of course, if she thought there was no risk of missing something, she wouldn't have asked him to maintain the alertness, so that added a bit of gumption to his mana-driven canvass of their surroundings.
Caution paid dividends. They bypassed three hidden dens, one of which had a form suspiciously similar to the [Shrieking Ravager] of recent notoriety. Little desire did either of them have to ever see one of those beasts again. A little later, after what Ulric thought was a harmless question about his [Ceraunoperception] going fuzzy in an area, he saw his Shadow freeze followed by a gesture to turn and run, which sent Ulric scrambling to keep up with his more graceful companion in these goofy snowshoes as she made egress to bypass what had appeared to Ulric's senses as a field of static whose mention triggered her abrupt evacuation. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that he wasn't quite sure that cloud of static didn't turn to follow them for a few minutes. Whatever it was, Taipan had them both running for a solid hour afterward and didn't waste breath to explain until they were nearly twenty kilometers away.
Ulric was leaning his back against a tree with his pack on the snow to recover while the athletic Elf next to him drew in deep breaths to restore her wind. Even as physically gifted as they both were, nobody makes that kind of pace wearing tennis rackets on their feet and humping gear without dragging major ass afterward.
"So, what exactly were we nearly killed by?" Ulric inquired, certain of the reason that his able partner had led them on this rousing leg.
Sober as a judge, Taipan informed him "Elemental." as if that explained everything.
Previous lessons in Awakenings, magic, and the nature of elements had seen him explained as to what an elemental was, according to the Aes'r reckoning, and how a mage might become one but never had anybody mentioned that they were dangerous enough to send as potent a force as his Shadow running for the bloody hills.
When Ulric didn't react, Taipan's lovely brows furrowed and she muttered Elvish recriminations against herself for forgetting that he knew essentially only what he'd been told within her hearing about most of Varda.
"Apologies, Ulric, I forget occasionally that you still have so much to learn. That was an Infrig Elemental you saw with your perception. They are incredibly hazardous to come across in Winter, being nearly invisible. It was nothing but a wind-blown cloud of snow to mine eyes. In addition to this, they can pull the heat from nearly anything they touch within moments. Infrig elementals within this season can turn a creature of flesh and blood to frozen dust before they know that they've fallen within its grasp." She explained.
It sounded incredibly similar to the [Absolute Zero] spell he'd crafted so very long ago, and which he had since lost access to upon Awakening his Ceraunic core. He mentioned as much and she indicated that there were certainly parallels.
That thought was frankly horrifying because his Infrig spell ranked with the most destructive things he could do, the damned spell basically rendered complex matter to individual molecules, stealing the energy of the chemical and electrostatic bonds that held it together. Its weakness was in how taxing it was for him to use, it drew incredible amounts of mana to power for relatively small volumes of space in the cold field. Even so, prior to his Awakening, it represented a touch of death spell should he find himself in dire straits. That being of pure Infrig enacted a similar effect but upon a colossal space compared to what he could generate was more than a little horrifying. Taipan's flight was certainly well reasoned then, how do you even fight a creature made of pure cold?
He posed the question aloud.
"You do not, Ulric. You die is what happens. Elementals are vastly more powerful than any mage but an archmage. They are perfectly in tune with themselves, are capable of harnessing incredibly dense weaves of magic within moments, as if an entire choir of mages cast in unison." Was her wry answer.
Damn. That put a bit more context into what exactly he'd experienced when he saw the prime Ceraun elemental then, didn't it? A sprite, a living lightning storm connecting the atmosphere to the infinite void lived in the outer reaches of this world, and Ulric had witnessed it, had been called to it during his Awakening. The creature had pulled him to see from its alien perspective through the lightning mana he'd been condensing in his own core, the same energy that made up this pseudo, or not so pseudo, godling. It was an experience that a mortal mind cannot fathom and Ulric was left with vague impressions that Ceraun, the prime, was an avatar of the electromagnetic force incarnate. It had set him to wondering what the Aquae or Incendere primes might be. The Ocean? The Sun?
Whatever, point was, he'd better keep his ducks in a row or they might run into something they couldn't unrun into.
