“What do you think about my idea?” Friya asked after explaining to Quylla her latest creation.
“That you are too obsessed with dimensional magic. You should try something less complicated like Battle Mage spells.”
“Those are easy to master. They require two elements at most and there’s plenty of literature about them already whereas I make more progress here in an hour than after a month of practice in the outside world.
“I can’t waste this opportunity to reinvent the wheel when I can create something never seen before instead.” Friya replied.
“Hey, Quylla, nice to see you.” Morok was drenched in sweat as well.
He had a grimoire filled with his unfinished homework and the projects that he was supposed to help his master, Ajatar the Drake, with. Morok intended to exploit the Fringe to cheat his way to the correct answers and then rub his “genius” in Ajatar’s face.
“I’m almost done preparing the new set of mana circles. Just a few more, some rest and I’ll be ready to have a chat with our grumpy planet. By the way, if both of you are here, who’s keeping an eye on Nalrond?”
“I thought you called me here because Morok had started his shift!” Quylla said.
“I called you here because I’ve seen Morok Warp away several minutes ago. I assumed he had returned home.” Friya said.
“I need privacy while taking a dump.” He explained.
“It’s nice to see that you’re doing better.” Kimo, the Dewan elder, said while stepping inside the house once his Emperor Beast assured him that no one would bother them.
‘So much for not leaving me alone.’ Nalrond inwardly groaned.
“Thank you for your kindness, elder. I underestimated the dangers of Mogar’s mind and paid the price. The silver lining is that I learned a lot from my failure and the next time I’ll do much better.” Nalrond actually said.
He tried to stand up to properly greet his unwanted guest, but Kimo pushed him down to make him rest.
Even though he didn’t like them, Nalrond needed to keep up with the appearances because he couldn’t afford to anger the Dewan tribe.
They were his hosts and just by accepting humans among their fold, the Dewans showed him great kindness. Without the girls, Nalrond knew that he would be already dead and if the Dewan kicked the others out, he might as well leave the Fringe.
“The next time? I’m glad to hear that you are not going to let a single failure stop you and that you recognize your mistakes because I came here to offer you my help.” Kimo said.
“How, exactly?” Nalrond asked.
“I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t know how it was for your people, but we have long given up on asking Mogar’s advice. Too many talented youths like you and old coots like me have died in the futile attempt to make this indifferent world see reason.” Kimo sighed deeply while slouching his usually straight back.
Nalrond nodded for him to continue, partly understanding the elder’s point of view. The Rezars had given up on Mogar as well, putting all their hopes in Dawn’s teaching and in her ever-increasing mastery of light magic.
Even though Dawn was a monster, they could relate to her. Also, unlike how it happened with Mogar, thanks to the complex array system that Sinmara the Phoenix had taught them, the Rezars had been able to subdue Dawn at any time, forcing her to do their bidding.
On the other hand, after seeing the outside world, Nalrond had realized how foolish the Rezars’ mindset had been. Trying to subdue a powerful entity was akin to playing with fire.
No matter how many precautions one would take, it was only a matter of time before getting burned. Mogar was dangerous but fair and it would only speak the truth whereas Dawn had led the Rezars by the nose, making them waste decades of research at a time until they realized her treachery.
It was the reason why Nalrond had decided to risk communing with the planet. Mogar played by its rules without cheating, he only had to understand them. Both the Rezars and the Dewans, instead, treated the planet like a mindless tool.
As if their needs surpassed those of all other races and Mogar had to help them.
“Yet all of our failures have taught us a lot.” Kimo continued. “We can teach you the safest ritual that we have devised after centuries of research and hundreds of casualties. If you combine it with the Rezars’, it should increase your odds of success.
“All I’m asking you in return is to become one of us and share whatever knowledge you might gain.”
Nalrond wanted to scoff at such a ridiculous offer. Not only did he doubt that the Dewans’ ritual might differ much from that of his tribe, but he had already seen centuries of tradition surpassed in a single moment by a brilliant mind not clouded by superstition.
Quylla improving the ritual’s mana circle after just a glance, her understanding of how the whole ritual was nothing but a mind link had shattered his pride and opened his eyes to the truth.
The Werepeople had been so blinded by their grief that they had turned the safe haven that the Fringe was into a prison of their own making. By cutting all ties with the outside world and by relying on Mogar for everything, the Werepeople had clipped their own wings.
They kept not finding answers simply because they failed to understand that they were asking the wrong questions.
“Thanks, but no thanks. My companions already have helped me to improve the ritual and my failure is only due to my own shortcomings.” Nalrond said.
“Do you really trust a couple of humans more than your own people? What would your ancestors think if they knew how low you have stooped? We’ve offered you a new home, a new family, yet you still treat us like strangers.” Kimo said in outrage.
“Live is for the living, elder, while my ancestors are long dead.” Nalrond replied with a stone-cold voice. “By locking themselves in here, my people wasted centuries, just like you Dewans.
“I’ve learned more in the couple of years I spent outside than in the 23 years I lived in my village. I’ve not stooped so much as I’ve made progress. As for your so-called offers, the only reason you want me to settle down here is to learn Light Mastery.
“You want to use me just like my people used Dawn. I treat you like strangers because that’s who you are to me. Our forefathers shared a common past, but there’s no bond between us.”
“If that’s what you think, then I won’t waste any more of your time.” Kimo stood up and left the house.
After a few minutes, Morok returned.
He ate all the soup that Quylla had prepared, took a long shower while singing a tavern’s tune so loud that it made the walls tremble, and after dabbing his body with a set of Nalrond’s clean clothes he finally sat at the bedside.
“Good gods, you look like crap. Your recovery might take longer than we feared.” Morok used a diagnostic spell, trying to understand why Nalrond had bloodshot eyes and clenched his teeth so hard that his face was pale as a ghost.
