Feather Flight: Shield you from Dangers (part 18)
An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language
*****
Quick Recap: Aliens!
(more for my benefit than
anyone else but what the hell)
Diggers:
(crawlers) massive centipede looking beasts, the longest can be the size of a football
field. They can burrow through soft soil or stampede along harder surfaces. Not
terribly bright, they are only a danger when you come in range. Exceptionally hard to kill.
Stingers:
most mobile of the attack forces. Hornet like aliens armed with natural weapons
and acidic spit. Smarter than diggers and possessing a
hive-awareness, not great on stamina.
Drones:
Armored beetle type aliens composing the bulk of the Selwe
army. Not as fast or mobile as stingers, but larger and meaner. They can carry weapons
ranging from primitive pikes and spears to more advanced energy lances.
Dreadnaughts:
Assaults:
Spider type, very large, extremely dangerous but lucky very rare…
Mentors:
(generals) rarest type of aliens that human’s can encounter excepting the queen
who is still in space. No one knows much about them except Laro… and he wishes
he didn’t…
*****
Even with the haze and grit blowing in off the flat lands, Laro could see well enough to get the general idea of what was happening. Whether he could believe it or not was still a matter of internal debate. The ranking camp officer to his left stared through the telescope and swore softly in amazement. “… They can’t do that!”
“They /are/ doing it.”
“But they’ve /never/ done that… they… just… don’t…”
The general was hard pressed not to agree. If anything he wanted to swear long and hard, or failing that, go curl up in his tent and pretend that he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. The battalion he had send out to test the enemy line was stubborn, he granted his men that, any more stubborn and he would have to explicitly order their retreat. Veterans on the field, they had to be just at stunned as everyone else at the change of tactics on the part of their enemy.
// Hell, /any/ evidence of tactics is a nasty surprise… //
What had been hinted at for the past week was becoming undeniable. He watched the Selwe line flicker again, different forces moving together seamlessly in a joint attack, fast moving aerial units buzzing up and over, drawing the long-range fire away from the equally deadly ground force. Stingers /and/ drones, coordinated together? It was unthinkable, and that was before someone in the field reported back that the normally erratic flying alien attack-force had gotten the clever idea of carrying rocks aloft. The splintered shale of the region was brittle and unimpressive up close, but when a chunk the size of a man’s head was dropped from a hundred feet up, the resulting shards and dust were a serious menace.
If someone had asked him yesterday if the stingers could carry anything into the air with them, much less invent make-shift bombs for themselves, he would have laughed. Nobody was laughing now.
“… This is ridiculous, pull the men back, they’re demoralized. Trying to gain ground today isn’t going to accomplish anything. “
“…yessir!”
Laro sighed, watching as his order was passed through the officers and down to the men in the field via the radio. If the Selwe were suddenly going to stop acting like Selwe… a change in thinking would have to be in order.
Looking down he consulted the map. There was still a day’s travel before the other half of the army would move into range. Considering their options, there were worse things than to just hole-up with what shelter they had, and let things sit for half a day. “… call council. I want all senior officers in my tent in time for the 12th’s return… Obviously there are some developments we need to discuss.”
He turned to where his aide was fidgeting. “… get a message out to Ibat-kai. I want to know if he’s seeing any of this too…”
“Yes sir.”
“Captain, make sure the scout is aware that he may be attacked.”
“But he won’t be going anywhere near where the…” The young man watched as the black armored insects deliberately harried and pursued the retreating column of men. No longer simply passively defending, or attacking in slow patterns, they were a genuinely menacing sight. “… you think they’ll start /looking/ for scouts?”
Laro scrubbed some of the dust from his face and mustered a ghost of a smile. “To be honest, I don’t know what to think. But if Ibat is seeing even half of what we’re seeing… we’re in a hell of a lot of trouble.”
“Yessir.” Leaving him to his thoughts, the officer ducked his head and jogged back towards the main camp.
The dark man watched his enemy as their attacks pulled up short at the broken ground of the bluffs. If they had been blindly charging as popular wisdom expected, they would have come up onto the cracked stone hillsides and been easy pickings as they lost their footing. They /always/ followed, it was what they /did/.
He hissed in disbelief as the leading group of aliens stopped decisively just short of the rocks, the rest of the attack-group forming ranks behind them. They weren’t following. Instead-- he didn’t know how he knew but-- he could have sworn they were listening for something. Even the stingers, capable of winging over the rough terrain and harassing his troops further, did not continue the attack. Held back by an invisible leash they refused to come past the line of their ground support.
It was a sensible decision, a logical decision. If he had been the one attacking, instead of defending, he might have made an identical choice. Without the ground troops to force his men to divide their fire between attackers on land and in air, the more fragile stingers would be decimated. That too was popular wisdom, the basic tactics that had been the army’s bread and butter for two decades.
// Why the hell aren’t they attacking? They /never/ learn. That’s part of the game. They do the same old thing, but do it very well… and we think of new and crazy ways to get around their thing… who the hell decided they could change the rules…? //
Behind him he could hear the rumble of a scout vehicle being primed and released, its driver hammering the throttle for all it could give. At least the men were equally alarmed by the dramatic shift. That could be an advantage when the time came.
// It’s almost as if the bugs are under some sort of localized control, or hell, thinking for themselves… if they are capable of such a thing. //
The thought left him cold. Some among the Selwe /were/ capable of independent thought, but he was probably the only human alive to have ever witnessed it. Dreams of his time imprisoned in the tower were bad enough at night; he didn’t need to have waking-nightmares as well. The memory was stubborn however, whispering dire prophesies in the back of his head as he went through the motions of supervising his men.
Suspicion without proof was simply paranoia, but on the other hand, who better than him to recognize the symptom for what it was? The need to talk to his old mentor was strong. Ibat’s perspective on things was safely impartial, unlike his own emotionally charged memories.
“Easy now,” He caught one of his younger officers by the shoulder as the man darted by with the scent of fear about him. “It’ll be all right. Don’t overreact.”
“Yes sir!” The lieutenant must have seen something to gain hope from in his expression. Laro wished he knew what it was he was exuding, and whether or not he could convince himself as well.
*****
“Kuja?”
The voice seemed to be coming from rather far away. Idly he wondered how he had fallen down the well, and then who was it who was calling to him? Echoes played off each other in strangely telling patterns. “Kuja? Are you all right?”
Gradually reality bled back into existence. He blinked as the blurry pale blob resolved into the familiar lines of the ceiling. The moonlight streaming in through the open curtains was almost bright enough to read by. Thanks to it, and weaker lamp light, most of the room was recognizable, even with eyes that refused to focus on anything for very long. Raising his head, he gradually checked himself over, noting in amusement that even comatose as he must have been, his right hand was still firmly pressed against the smooth surface of the shard. “… That’s…” The genome blinked again, trying to gather his thoughts. “… a very good question.”
“Mister Kuja?” Anne was leaning over him; worried frown and all. “.. Oh thank god… for a second I thought…” The young doctor gently pulled his hand off the still flickering shard and checked it for burns. She was very careful to not touch the platter-sized stone almost as if afraid it would bite.
“…what… happened?” His skin itched. For a moment he swore he could feel the strange tingle even beneath his fingernails, even inside the hollows of his ears. Energized, replete, almost swollen, the sensation was both invigorating and unpleasant.
“The shard… did that thing it did… and you … and… light… and… then…” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, nervous after her patient’s close brush with disaster. “… I’d better take your pulse.”
Sitting up, Kuja allowed the examination mostly because he still felt too light headed to refuse. There was something very grounding in the practical touch on his wrist and cool feel of stethoscope on his chest.
“…the crystal…?” That did it. Memory snapped together into a tidy display. Eyes following thoughts, he almost jerked out of her grip to turn and examine the window. “Of course!”
The doctor could only blink in confusion. Ignoring her, the silver-haired man looked down at his hands. For the first time since Gaia something stirred, currents of energy ready and waiting to be spun into whatever he could ask for. “… It seems I overindulged.”
“You were glowing. Was that supposed to happen?”
“No.” Amused he made a fist and relaxed it, feeling the magical current beneath his skin shift and flow with the muscle. “… but if you give me a minute? Yes.”
“What?” Reaching the end of her ability to cope, the woman moved towards the bell pull to summon the others. “Don’t move. You don’t sound like yourself… You may be in shock… you’re pulse is higher than it should be…”
Anne kept on talking, but her words were easy enough to filter out. It would take too long to explain anyway. Kuja lifted his fingers to his forehead, an unnecessary gesture, but one that had been habit for so long he found he couldn’t gather his thoughts without it.
// Now… Curaga to heal? Or Life to revive…? What the hell, why not one of each… //
The spells’ incandescent effect, flaring to life one after the next, put the timid lamps to shame. He sighed happily as any number of things inside his uncooperative body suddenly shook themselves off and got back on the job with enthusiasm. Looking around, he wondered if the unexpected magic might have scared the poor doctor out of the room.
Anne hadn’t made it as far as the door. Reacting to the sudden flash of light as if it was an explosion, the woman had huddled on the floor with her arms protecting her face.
He took pity on her and reached down to pat her shoulder. “… It’s over.”
“… Am I dead?”
“Hardly.” The side effect of a
massive dose of healing energy through the body was invariably a bad case of
the jitters. It was near
“… magic?”
“Yes. But that’s not important.”
“… important?” Staring at him in awe, it was the best she could do to parrot.
Kuja bit his cheek to keep from chuckling. The sooner the health-inspired giddiness faded the better. Speaking slowly in order to penetrate her haze shock he tried again. “… I’m /hungry/, Anne. And I want to put on something more civilized than my sleep-shirt for a change. Be a good girl and go ring for some food for me in the parlor?”
When words alone weren’t enough, he gently shooed her towards the door to get her moving. Closing it firmly behind the still confused attendant, he paused to take stock, somehow hesitant to believe that anything would be so easy after months of tolerating the mundane.
// …but then, that’s how it goes with magic, isn’t it… nothing… and then /something/ all in a moment… creation, destruction… or the end of the world… all with a snap of the fingers… //
Weighing the amount of energy now softly vibrating in his fingers, he slowly readjusted to the fact that all things were once again possible. Everything he had been, he could be, if he wished it. There was nobody who could really stop him. Kuja smiled at the memory of his first heady days on Gaia. There had been a time when his plans for conquest had still been in their infancy. His only cares had been for learning the ways of the world so utterly alien to his own, and using his magic to do whatever he pleased, tasks both frivolous and serious alike.
// And of course your self-centered
view on things almost got that world consumed by
Moving over to the bed, he looked at the weighty slice of
crystal, inspecting it for some sign of change. The surface was inert again,
awaiting the next rotation of the planet to point it back towards its source.
For a moment he worried that the magic he had siphoned off would damage the
// It’s not like I was leeching… I mean… It was just radiating the stuff out in gobs anyway… it would have gotten soaked up by /something/… //
Kuja left the worry for a moment when he had more luxury for it, turning to his closet instead. He had no idea what the diminutive woman would tell her colleagues when they came running pell-mell down the hall, but he had a feeling that he only had so much time to get himself in order before someone knocked the door down in an unnecessary attempt to ‘rescue’ him.
The thought gave him a funny sort of feeling. It sounded rather like something his
brother’s friends would do, had done. They had followed him into the heart of
// Rather like Laro and I… or even the Duke… //
It was unnerving to realize he genuinely cared about people, worse to consider that they felt the same about him. Friends were for other people. He let the thought go just as he had on former occasions, still unsure of where it would lead. Clothing was far simpler to understand. Shirt, pants, boots, he left the robe unbelted and to hell with hiding the tail. It wasn’t like they didn’t already know about /that/ little embarrassment.
// And thank you
Someone started banging on the door and he moved to intercept before they threw themselves at it.
// Gerrik you idiot. //
Smirking, he pulled the obstacle open during a pause in the racket, fixing the frazzled soldier with a sardonic glare. “… Did you bring dinner then?” The man and the small crowd behind him could only stare in surprise.
“No? A pity. I feel I could eat a dragon.”
*****
There wasn’t enough room at the small breakfast table for everyone who had responded to the youngest doctor’s alarmed call. The Duke and Dr. Ing were given first choice of chairs. Riquoi had yet to go to sleep it seemed, as well groomed as ever as he watched his protégé daintily devour the better part of a fruit bowl and move on to the bread. The doctor wasn’t so lucky, looking winded after having sprinted down the hallway in nothing more than a bathrobe and slippers. He nervously smoothed his mustache as he tried to question Anne and her patient at the same time.
// This is just too bizarre. //
Clay leaned against the doorframe, determined to be out of the way as he watched the spectacle unfold. They had pulled him out of bed for this? When the servants had come knocking, telling him he was needed upstairs, he had assumed the worst. Given Ing’s state of disarray, and Dean Finlay’s exasperated “What do you mean ‘you feel fine?!’” as she burst into the room, he hadn’t been the only one. Seeming completely at ease with all the commotion being caused over him, Kuja simply waved her into another chair with his butter knife.
“... So you say it’s magic…?” Doctor Ing looked from the girl back to the courtesan obviously not pleased with the short answers he had been given. The silver-haired man certainly looked better than he had in weeks. His appetite at least was obviously improved.
He devoured another jam-laden slice of bread before deciding to reply. “Yes. Well. It’s not perfect… but as far as temporary fixes go, this one isn’t bad at all.”
“… why didn’t you do it sooner?”
“… well I tried this morning, but I wasn’t fast enough…” The courtesan shrugged. “Got it right this time around though.” He looked up to see that his audience wasn’t making the connection. “… The dean’s shard? Big shiny bit of rock? It’s an amplifier for more than just lasers.”
Finlay pulled her chair a little closer, noticeably bed-headed, and reached for a small lamp to light her cigar off of. “… You’re saying that somehow those crystals are intrinsically magical?”
“Not exactly. They’re just passive receivers… it just so happens that there is something /very/ magical that I could… hear… with the shard’s help. Sort of a way of extending my reach beyond the blocking power of the Net.”
“… So… anyone who touches that rock could cast magic?”
“Only for about six and a half minutes. And only once at mid morning and once at night…” He considered it. “… and they’d have to have some natural predisposition for the skill in the first place… but yes, that is the idea.”
The scholar sat back in disbelief. “…how?”
Kuja made to answer, and then stopped himself. “… Too hard to explain right now. I still don’t know half of it myself… Ask again tomorrow.”
“I want a blood sample.” Ing’s sudden outburst almost made the dean bite through her cigar.
“What, now? We’d have to wake half of the lab up… Surely it can wait until morning…”
The short doctor chewed his mustache in frustration. “I need to know /how/ this was done! The degeneration of blood cells was damn close to total… a man shouldn’t just be able to get out of bed and declare himself fully recovered…”
“I didn’t say I was fully recovered.” The silver haired man disagreed as he stared mournfully at the crumbs on his plate. “… still hungry…”
Clay shook his head in awe. At the rate the delicate man was going they would have to wake one of the cooks. He had already eaten through the Duke’s provision of random snacks and was obviously looking to make up for all his skipped meals at once. The old man blinked, slower to realize the predicament than the others, and stood up to rummage through his temporary desk with a sigh. He came back with a paper wrapped parcel of what looked like honey candy.
“… All I said was /temporary/ recovery. Thank you!” The last was directed at Riquoi, who placed his offering on the table where the bread had been. “… The only spells I know are to cure things injured, and revive things about to die… If something is already completely dead, it’s gone for good I’m afraid.”
“… So this vitality…” Clay couldn’t help but interrupt, seeing what the delicate man was implying faster than the rest.
“… isn’t a real recovery.” Kuja bit carefully into the corner of one of the sticky sweets.
“… I was able to restore what I have left to top condition, but I’d need you to run a test or two to see exactly how much that is… certainly enough to get around with it seems.” He made a fist to show that most of his old tone and strength were back.
Ing blinked, suddenly understanding what was being implied. “… So you start all over again… and in two weeks…”
“I’m right back where I was yesterday… although now that we know magic works, I can probably maintain my current level of health indefinitely.”
Clay snorted, amused. “Convenient. Just recharge once in a while, and away you go?”
Kuja gave him a droll look and nodded in agreement. “That is my current plan, yes.”
“What’s the catch?” The dean was never a woman to miss the fine print on a contract.
“Twofold, as best I can tell…” He shrugged and finished his first helping before reaching for the next. “I make sure I’m near the crystal… and I make sure not to exert myself beyond my abilities.”
“Sounds simple enough.” Finlay claimed one of the candies for herself. Seeing no reason not to, Clay did the same. He ignored the courtesan’s pout. If the small man ate the whole box by himself he’d soon have a new reason to be sick.
The duke poured himself a drink and another for the doctor. “Well, I think its excellent news.” Ing gave him a sour look. “What? Our best-tactician is no longer in immediate danger, and for the first time in over a decade, we have a mage at our disposal… if you are feeling up to the task of course, Mister Kuja.”
“I imagine I could oblige.” The two men toasted each other, amused by their banter.
// All this talk of mages... We’ve done alright without magic… Hell, most of the army is too young to even know what it is… much less what to do with it. // The young general dusted his fingers off on his pants, grudgingly conceding that he was one of those men.
“… So…” He interrupted the celebratory little group before they could get off the topic. “… Aside from mending yourself… what can you /do/ exactly…?”
Blue eyes met his in wicked amusement as the pale beauty dabbed his lips with a napkin. “… General Gerrik seems to be in need of a demonstration.”
The soldier flinched, not liking how he was suddenly the center of attention. “What, I’ve never seen a mage before… and with the exception of your lordship… neither have any of you!”
Finlay made a rude noise. “I have a recollection or two of my own, general.”
“Begging your pardon, madam.” Clay didn’t look away from his quarry, the challenge might be childish, but he wouldn’t retract it. The courtesan seemed more than happy to oblige.
“… I don’t mind if the rest of you don’t… and really, night time might be the best time for it. No sense in scaring people unnecessarily…”
He cracked his knuckles with a smirk. “… After building all those little toy guns I’d like to try some /real/ firepower against those shells stacked in storage.”
Ing glanced down at his slippers and dressing gown, and promptly stood up. “If that’s the case… I think I’d better go get dressed. I want to see this…!” He stopped as everyone gave him a humoring look. “… Strictly as a medical professional… of course.”
“Of course…” Grinning around the remains of her cigar, the woman followed him out of the room to kick some of her students out of bed.
*****
Ibat grimaced as his aide pulled the wrappings tight on his arm, cursing his luck, the injury, and the world at large. His army was broken completely down the middle. The majority of men and provisions were on the move along the high ground, pushing ahead as fast as they could beneath the constant aggravation of the stingers that occasionally raked across the hills at high speed. If they would just stay and fight, it would have been simple. Instead they had learned a new trick, pelting the men below with rocks and disappearing out of range before any of the larger weapons could be brought to bear. The general granted that the tactic was primitive, but it worked quite well. Already his force had to slow down and construct rudimentary protections for vulnerable equipment as they went.
He watched the column pick its way west, confident that they’d connect up with the main section of Laro’s army with no further delays. A far smaller portion of men and supplies were awaiting his order on the outcrop, willing to risk walking into disaster in order to get a better peek at what might be happening behind the enemy’s main mass. The aging general considered the message that had found its way to him. Reading between the lines he could feel his former student’s worry, and his premonition. If Laro was right, they had very likely reached the end of their luck. The alien queen was sore about the loss of property and maybe, probably, definitely, had dispatched a general of her own. It was a distressing thought.
// That’s what we get for being successful… we attract something nasty’s attention… //
Ibat had only been on the fringes of the final battle’s that marked the Great Kai’s defeat and capture. The younger man had borne the brunt of the Selwe’s focused attacks. The patterns however, were unmistakably familiar and he was willing to believe that Laro’s hunch was correct. The stingers and drones, even the diggers, were getting smarter. That just wasn’t something they could do on their own. Someone was doing their thinking for them, someone who was watching them all very very carefully.
// I give it a week… if they start throwing actual technology at us… then it will be set and sealed, although I’d prefer to see it for myself. //
It had been years since he had seen a Selwe general. But even with only a dusty, distant view, he was sure that his memory was good enough to recognize another one if he saw it. He just hoped he could spot it before it could do the same to him.
Signaling his officers, he silently ordered the unit to make its way into a dry stream bed. Some quiet hours later he was rewarded by the steady thrum of distant wing-beats in the air above. The soldiers fit themselves flat against whatever was convenient in the gully, wedging themselves into crevices and shadows, draping vehicles with dusty canvas, blending in as best they could. Ibat watched as the swarm passed overhead, surprised to note that it was far larger than he had guessed. More than just a scout force, it seemed to move with a focus. The formation passed over head, several of it’s members breaking off to swoop lower and examine their hideout, but they did not stop for a close look. A few flittering shadows and they were gone.
Looking up as they past, the general wished he dared risk some binoculars. There was something traveling in the middle of the cloud of stingers, a blob that could have been a balloon or maybe just a large metallic plate. The thought made the old soldier frown. Hover plates this far from the heart of alien territory were very unusual. He had been speculating on an increase in technology now that they had been pushing further into the conquered lands, but they hadn’t penetrated /that/ deep yet. He had hoped that there would be a week or two before Laro’s hunch would prove correct. Not it seemed a simple matter of days.
// This is going to get very ugly. Very fast. //
*****
The walk across the castle was more than enough to burn the
excess energy off. Kuja was glad to sit a moment and
catch his breath as the sleepy students went about assembling a target for him
to aim at. Closing his eyes, he poked
gently at the energy reservoir inside, pleased to see that it was still perfectly
intact. It meant that his lack of stamina was simply the result of thinner
blood, not anything more malicious. Sitting calmly seemed to do the trick, he
gave the doctors an amused snort as he looked up to find them fussing over him.
“I’m perfectly fine! Just don’t ask me to run races.”
Anne blushed guiltily at the scolding. “… Sorry, force of habit…”
“I understand.” He looked over his shoulder to where the young general was watching everything thing with amusement. If anyone was determined to not be in awe of magic, it was Gerrik. He squashed the childish urge to float the man up to the roof and leave him there, just to see if he could be so calm about things then. “Are we entertaining you, sir?”
“… Usually.” The shorthaired officer picked his way over and pulled up a stool to sit on. “But then I think… that’s rather why we’re all here after all. To be entertained by something that will shock and amaze? Hell, I’m surprised the King’s not out here…”
“I don’t think I’m up to a royal inspection quite yet…” The genome laughed lightly. “It would just be embarrassing if I flubbed it, don’t you think?”
“You doubt your ability?”
Kuja tilted his head in thought. “Not precisely… but there are always unknowns in any experiment… The Net for example, I /think/ I know how it works, but I’m not /sure/…”
“So, all things being equal, you’re fairly confident you won’t just flap your arms and have nothing happen…” The general smirked. “Fair enough”
“I never ‘flap,’ sir. That’s just tacky.”
Looking back over at where the Dean and her flock were finishing up, he was still impressed at the massive size of the alien shell. Moonlight and torches provided plenty of light, but he could imagine how it would be in a less friendly setting. In the dark, with not one, but thousands of the creatures marching about? It would be a blood chilling sight. If magic couldn’t dent the hard surface, he would be at a loss as to what to suggest.
// … well at the very least me and that silly heat gun could travel around like a dog and pony show… although god knows I’d get tired of casting ice spells all the time… at least I’m a lot more portable that a massive tank of water… //
He weighed his options in the face of the confined space he had to work with, and his own limited resources. Even if he could produce an Ultima without going into full trance, which he doubted, it would flatten the city if not the entire region. Quickly on the tail of the first thought came the second, would trance be possible for him with his heavily reduced stamina? The genome shook his head to dismiss the doubts. All the anecdotes he had heard had pointed to even basic magics being enough to wreak havoc among the hard-shelled aliens.
“Anytime you’re ready Mr. Kuja…” The duke returned from his inspection of the training dummy with Finlay and her flock in tow. Settling down on the last of their make-shift bleachers, they had an air of excitement about them.
“…I hope I don’t disappoint…” He stood up and mentally measured the distance between his audience and the target. Telling them to move further back was probably an exercise in futility.
// and really… if I can just borrow a little more magic in the morning… spending some in the name of defense wouldn’t be a bad idea at all. //
Knowing that whoever was on the receiving end didn’t see much of anything when the spell was cast, he didn’t see fit to warn them before whispering the word ‘Wall’ to himself. Subtly tagging every member of the chatting party, he could see it settle into place and sighed in relief. His first test was completed with satisfactory results. The Net seemed genuinely unable to stop not just healing spells but ones commonly used in battle as well. There was only one test left.
Turning back to his target he curled his fingers again, applying the same to himself that he had to his watchers. This time he knew they could see the shimmering effect of the magic and they made the appropriately impressed noises. Faintly he could hear the young general asking, “That’s it? What the hell was that supposed to do…”
Once again the urge to forsake the target was high, but he let the childish impulse go. Pulling even more energy out, he concentrated a minute on what he wanted.
“… Thundara, if you please.” Cajoling the bolt down out of the heavens like an old friend, he was more than gratified to see the sparkle of distant electrical charge. His quiet whisper brought forth a brilliantly crackling surge. It zinged down to earth with malicious intent, completely enveloping the carapace and its supports with a hissing roar before eventually discharging into the ground.
//… now that’s an idea… cast Water first… and see if I can’t get entire groups of them at once as the bolt conducts through wet soil…? //
The exoskeleton didn’t explode like his last experiment had, making the barrier spells unnecessary. Kuja had to content himself with the very obviously cracked and steaming pile that collapsed in on itself with a nasty smell of charred bone.
Inspecting the damage he wondered if even half strength would be necessary to bring down an unsuspecting drone. He might have had a perfectly acceptable amount of damage with a less powerful variation.
// Plenty of time to test for that later. //
“… It was exactly as I remembered…” Riquoi was standing at his side, patting his arm grinning like a far younger man as he inspected the wreckage. “Lightening bolts on command as the bugs scattered… perfect, simply marvelous!”
“How do you feel, Masa?” Ing’s presence on his other arm was fully expected. The doctor didn’t wait for a reply, moving methodically to check pulse, temperature and other basic vitals before he could complain.
“… A little tired, but I could cast one or two more simple things with out being overly drained.”
“One spell a day, do you think?” The mustached man incorrectly counted. “No wait, two, since you healed yourself earlier…”
Kuja grinned. “Try thirteen so far, although not all spells are created equal as far as strength required.” He shrugged, “I think so long as I keep it below twenty-five I’ll be perfectly all right.”
“…Thirteen?”
“I took the minor precaution of protecting you from any physical or magical forces that might have caused harm…” Grinning at a suddenly sneaky thought, he waved Gerrik over from where the soldier was inspecting the smoking ruins. Picking up a convenient rock from where it lay harmless, he threw it with satisfactory accuracy directly at the man’s head. With no time to do more than make a face, the soldier braced for an impact that ended up being feather light. The rock slowed perceptibly in the air. Bouncing off the cringing forehead soundlessly and falling to the ground in slow motion. Rubbing his face in surprise, the general could only shrug when he found no bruises.
“What the hell was that all about?!”
“Just a minor demonstration.” Laughing at the man’s irritated look, the silver-haired man explained. “One shield for each of you, including our long suffering students, and one for myself.”
Having watched the demonstration, one of Finlay’s assistants picked up a board, and promptly turned to hit his classmate with it. Again, despite the strength of the blow, it only made contact with a tap, not even enough force to bruise. For some reason this amused the foursome greatly, soon each young man had a stick they were attempting to hit someone else with.
“… it is only temporary of course…” Having counted off the seconds since he had cast the spell, Kuja moved to intervene before someone got hurt.
“Ow!”
He sighed as they figured it out for themselves. “Handy in battle, or for situations of short duration.” Taking the remaining sticks away, he was glad that the first of the students to lose the spell would suffer nothing worse than bruises.
Gerrik simply shook his head and sighed. “… Well, that was fun. I don’t know about the rest of you esteemed lords and ladies, but I’ll admit my curiosity about magic has been satisfied. See you in the morning, Mr. Kuja. I’m off to catch up on my sleep.” Still rubbing his forehead, the young general retreated into the safety of the castle, muttering about human cannons and parlor tricks as he went.
*****
*****
If things are good for Laro… then things are bad for Kuja… if things are bad for Laro… Kuja… throws a party?
Nevermind. This is what happens when you come back to a story after months away. It goes briefly slapstick…
--Lunar.