Page 10 of Roverpowered 6

THIRTEEN

After all the unbelievable feats he’d seen Wanda accomplish, part of Lenar was slightly surprised when she didn’t instantly cast the same spell that had taken him hours upon hours of study to finally manage. Her effort was sincere, and respectable, but imbuement phase spells were trickier than anything taught to wizards in their base phases. Some tasks just took practice; there was no getting around that truth.

Lenar’s sense of shock once more began to assert itself as he watched Wanda attempt to cast that very spell again… and again… and again, with no end in sight. Which was, to put it mildly, utterly ludicrous. Ever Present Cauldron was an imbuement phase spell, and with only one imbuement each, he and Wanda were on the lower end of that scale. By the time all four imbuements were formed and attunement phase was in sight, they’d be able to manifest a good bit more mana, making the spell much easier to cast.

As things stood currently, successfully casting Ever Present Cauldron didn’t entirely wipe Lenar’s mana out, but he couldn’t manage any other spells for a while afterward. And that was with all the supplemental tonics and trainings Lenar’s grandfather used to help him maximize his potential mana before bonding.

A miscast spell still cost mana to attempt. And the closer a wizard got to success, the more mana they’d invested in the spell when it failed. By the time Wanda was making her tenth try, so lost in the effort he was fairly certain she hadn’t even heard Captain Sharshaw’s announcement, Lenar estimated that Wanda had used enough mana to leave him fully drained roughly three times over.

Yet she wasn’t slowing down in the slightest. Quite the contrary, Wanda appeared to be gaining momentum. Being able to try a spell over and over without pause was the sort of tactic that even wizards with enough mana to attempt it rarely employed, largely because of the mental drain. Casting spells wore one down, and failed ones usually came with an accompanying headache. After enough tries, most wizards couldn’t even focus enough to cast spells they already knew, let alone etch new ones into their mind.

In contrast, Lener managed nothing more than whipping together a perfectly normal batch of Grade One healing potions. He’d stretched the ingredients further than expected, making a clean dozen rather than only ten. As the brew simmered, Lenar took to looking over the roots with blue moss, even sniffing them a few times, trying to find what it was that had called to Wanda.

Wumble gave him a curious look, but mostly kept his focus on Wanda, while Karlisle napped as he usually did when Lenar brewed. If not for the occorite battle Lenar imagined raging overhead, it might have been a peaceful moment to relish.

The flare of golden light shone so sharply and suddenly that Lenar momentarily feared a hole had been torn in the side of the bearship, letting the sun shine directly into his eyes. Then he noticed a lack of wind or debris, and covered his face with his hand, using his fingers as narrow windows to peer through.

“Sorry! Sorry, I forgot about that. I’m so used to casting my modified Potion Containment that it slipped my mind.”

Right… Lenar had nearly forgotten the way Wanda’s first spell during their shared orientation also shone with an incredible intensity. But as that was a base phase spell, and thus included less of her mana, the effect was diminished when compared to what shone before them.

And that was, as expected, a cauldron. One forged of golden light that Lenar could barely stand to glimpse, yet even as he watched, the hue’s intensity faded. Slowly, the color spectrum shifted, until Wanda’s cauldron was a dusky orange much the same as Wumble’s coat. “Again, sorry. Are your eyes okay? I’ve got a few spare potions if you need.”

“Best we save those for the wizards up on deck.” Lenar rubbed his eyes despite the protest, blinking the spots and static from his vision. “Captain Sharshaw announced an impending occorite attack while you were casting. I was debating running the first batch up to the Main Deck when it finishes, but among so many wizards, twelve potions won’t stretch terribly far. Ideally, we can get the roots sorted out before either of us leaves for a delivery.”

Lenar turned to the table, then realized what had actually happened amidst his bout of temporary blindness. “Congratulations on casting your new spell, by the way. That was an impressive pace, to put it mildly.”

“Thanks! My mana was way easier to manage this time around. I got another spell that helps me with control, and wow, was that some gellen well spent.” Wanda waved her hand, and the dusky orange cauldron floated over to her side. “And I think this will be a fast favorite, too.”

Plucking one of the moss-covered roots from the table, Lenar handed it over to Wanda, then grabbed one for himself. “I wasn’t able to smell anything, but I do believe I recognize the roots themselves. They originate from an illiver tree and are without a known alchemist purpose.”

“If you pulp them and mix in clean water, herbalists can make a paste that helps treat infection,” Wanda replied, almost automatically. “I, um, I couldn’t make potions until Wumble and I were bonded, so Garumph also taught us a lot about crafting without magic.”

That was surprising, not many alchemists Lenar knew cared to learn much for the often derided art of mortal medicines. Why bother with such specific use cases when a well-made healing potion would take care of most injuries? And if an injury was so severe that potions couldn’t work, what hope did mere plants have?

Lenar considered asking more about this teacher as he turned toward Wanda, only for the question to fly from his mind once he realized what she’d done. Wanda had tossed her root, moss and all, into her magical cauldron, where it currently appeared to be engulfed in a matching orange energy.

Before he could draw together words to ask why she was burning a potential potion ingredient, Wanda clapped her hands together and beamed with the inner light that only emerged when she was engaging in alchemy. “Alright, I think I’ve got it figured out!”

FOURTEEN

With a heavy heart, Escador surveyed the scene of the Main Deck. In the flock of occorites swarming the bearship, there were three main categories of threats. Largest were the occorites formed from fallen bearships themselves, massive threats that the bulk of the pilots’ attention was set on halting. Through powerful bolts and stalwart barriers, the enormous occorites had been kept from reaching the bearship, but there were several close calls.

Next down on size were the occorites made of what were once bearplanes. These were able to slip past the pilots’ efforts with the larger occorites acting as a distraction. However, they found a bevy of wizards on the deck waiting to punish the attempted invasion.

Spells filled the air above as every wizard present did their level best to drive back the occorites. A few had slipped through and done damage to the deck, along with several wizards who failed to move out of the way in time. No one was lost yet, though Escador expected several would need powerful potions to be back in the fight.

The last category of occorites were the smallest of the lot, formed out of what looked to be scraps rather than cohesive structures. These were akin to birds of prey, diving into the fray and attempting to disrupt the casting wizards. They were also the only targets Escador could meaningfully help with, which was why he’d paused to scout the deck.

Spotting a diving form, Escador dashed forward, slamming his hammer into the occorite before it could strike the wizard and his armadillo familiar that had been in its path. The stout man shot him a look of thanks, then they were back in the fray. There was no time for anything more.

Escador felt the wisp-metal that flowed through his veins pulsing. Ever since Wanda started helping him harvest occoreal, the blacksmith had been crawling his way out of the base phase that had trapped him for so long. He was nearly there, almost ready to form his first imbuement.

Depending on how many occorites he was able to harvest when the fighting finished, this battle might very well be the thing to push him over the edge. Assuming they won, of course. Because if that wasn’t the outcome, Escador didn’t expect he’d have to worry about things like harvesting or control of his inner metal any longer.

One only had to look at the occorites made from the remains of bearships to know their fate if they fell from the sky.

The spell Lenar had given her was, quite frankly, incredible. He had deeply undersold just how much control came with the magical cauldron. Wanda could perceive everything inside it with a clarity she could only compare to her synergy with Wumble’s nose.