Eryndra immediately stepped in front of Roy, shielding him as the spire of magical energy erupted from the ground before them. Roy peeked cautiously over her shoulder, squinting into the swirling light.
An ancient-looking man stumbled forth from the glow, clutching a twisted wooden staff in one hand and a rusted sword, so corroded it appeared more wooden than metal, in the other. His clothes barely hung together, disheveled and loose as if he'd just crawled out of bed.
"Run, children! Run! I'll fight it!" the old man cried, waving his sword frantically. "Quickly, get back! Run for your lives!"
Roy stared blankly, unimpressed. "Wait… isn't this that old bastard, the mage teacher or whatever?"
Zehrina sighed quietly beside him. "Yes, I suppose. He's the one who taught me to use frosted lightning. This is Everran, the Reverter."
The elderly mage bellowed unintelligibly, "Reports from… several watchtowers… say a Tyrox is… near the forest! Many have died! The captain and his rather attractive wife dispatched from the Night Shitter are here, so I must… I'm here already! Run, I'll hold it off!"
Roy's expression flattened further. "It's Nightshatter, not Shitter."
Everran waved dismissively. "Complain about your ship's name some other time! If the Tyrox returns, you're all doomed! Now run, I say!"
Roy gestured dryly toward the pile of hair and dismembered limbs lying nearby. "Oh, you mean that thing right there? Already dead. We handled it. Go home."
Takara's anxious voice piped up over the comms, panting nervously. "Roy, please don't antagonize him! I still have to take lessons from him occasionally, and I don't want him taking out his frustrations on me!"
Roy rolled his eyes. "What are you even talking about? I've heard plenty about this guy, and pretty much all of it terrible. He's just a grouchy, mean, cranky old—"
Everran blinked, finally starting to regain clarity. He stood a bit taller, gathering his composure. "Ah, yes. I knew I wasn't truly needed. Came just in case, though. Can't be too cautious."
"This bumbling old guy is the mage setting up our city's magic academy?" Roy muttered incredulously.
Everran scowled. "Hey now, be nice. I came here fully prepared to sacrifice my life, you know. Haven't battled a Tyrox in years."
Roy raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you've actually fought one before?"
"Yes, yes. I've slain many in my day."
Roy reconsidered, slightly impressed. "Huh. You must be pretty strong then."
"Well, I wouldn't boast," Everran said with mock humility. "Now, young captain, you're the only student who hasn't attended my classes yet. You must come."
Roy sighed. "I can't do magic. It's just not something—"
"I don't know why you're lying," Everran interrupted sharply. "We're allies now, no need for secrets." Without waiting, he reached forward, hovering his palm slightly over Roy's chest before sharply pulling back. Roy's barrier flashed to life, bright and steady.
Roy jumped back, shielding himself as though he'd been physically violated. "What the hell are you doing?"
Everran shrugged casually. "Proving my point. You can use magic. With my help, you'll be a natural."
The mage's eyes briefly lit up as he began peering directly at Roy's mana reserves. Roy lunged forward, waving frantically. "Wait! Stop! Don't—"
Too late. Everran's eyes widened, astonished but otherwise unaffected. "My word, your mana capacity is astronomical! You could become the greatest sorcerer alive! You must attend my school."
Roy rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Your eyes are ok?"
"Yes! Now, sign up for classes!" Everran yelled with a smile.
Roy shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. "Sorry to break it to you, but I've trained with Lutrian for months. This barrier is all I can manage."
Everran snorted derisively. "The pretty princely boy is one thing; I am another. I'll unlock your potential, boy. I guarantee it."
Roy sighed heavily. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say. I'll try."
-
Later, they regrouped within one of Otherrealm's busy courtyards. Everran still wore his tattered, messy robes, drawing awkward stares.
Roy glanced at the mage skeptically. "Shouldn't you maybe go home and change? I dress like trash on purpose but I'm guessing you don't."
Everran pondered this briefly. "Hmm, perhaps you're right." He thoughtfully twisted his beard once, straightening it slightly, and then nodded approvingly, leaving the ragged clothes unchanged.
"I tried." Roy sighed.
Soon, Warrex, Lutrian, Takara, Washington, Lincoln, the city council members, and the triplets arrived, gathering around curiously.
Roy addressed the group, recounting their battle against the Tyrox, reassuring them of safety.
"How did it get so close? You couldn't have killed it farther away?" someone complained.
Roy shot Siren a pointed look. "I would have, if someone had been less concerned about mobs and more about civilians."
Siren coughed awkwardly, looking away.
Roy continued, voice turning more serious. "Besides, this thing was special. Similar to the dragon, Nightshatter might not have been able to hurt it. It was able to take hits from Eryndra and not take much damage. And, nuking threats endlessly isn't exactly feasible."
Takara frowned. "Why not? Our nukes don't cause radioactive fallout."
"Fallout is one issue," Roy explained patiently, "but blasting everything into oblivion isn't always smart. Environment, noise, damage, it'd be chaos."
Everran slapped Roy's back heavily, startling him. "I have a solution!"
"Slap me again, I swear to—"
Another slap hit his back as Everran circled around, grinning cheerily. "We can fix your Night Shitter."
Roy growled, "It's Nightshatter."
Slap. Roy felt the impact a third time, even though Everran was now far away.
Roy flinched again. "How are you even doing this?"
Everran feigned innocence. "Doing what?"
Slap.
Takara nervously intervened, attempting to soothe tensions. "He's always been rowdy. Please just humor him."
Everran nodded approvingly. "Some people could use lessons in manners, and I teach those lessons in a way I particularly enjoy."
Takara bowed slightly. "Yes, Master Everran. You know best, of course."
Everran straightened, adjusting his ragged robes, and cleared his throat theatrically. "Anyway," he began, looking directly at Roy, "I believe I have a solution to your dilemma regarding Night…" He paused dramatically, making eye contact with Roy and very carefully enunciating, "...shatter."
Roy nodded back slowly, relieved at the correct pronunciation.
"Allow me a demonstration!" Everran declared abruptly, striding purposefully toward an elven merchant seated nearby at a small table.
Without permission or preamble, Everran snatched up a decorative bag from the merchant's stall and began rummaging through it, removing a pair of ornate chopsticks. The elf jolted upright. "Hey!" he protested, ears flattening against his head. "Those were a gift!"
Ignoring the merchant entirely, Everran extracted one chopstick and placed its tip firmly against the table. "Observe," he commanded grandly. He pressed down slowly until the wood bent, splintered, and finally snapped loudly. The merchant whimpered mournfully at the destruction of his precious item.
Everran then took up the second chopstick, murmuring softly as he traced glowing runes around its length, each swirling symbol shimmering gently as it sank into the wood. "Now observe again," he announced, placing the enchanted chopstick against the same table and pushing firmly. This time, rather than breaking, the slender chopstick effortlessly pierced straight through the table's surface.
A nearby dwarf gasped, his voice rising indignantly. "By the gods! Must you destroy everything that's not yours?"
Everran shrugged indifferently, already moving on. His attention turned sharply toward a young beastfolk child clutching a beloved slingshot, and without hesitation or warning, Everran plucked it directly from the child's startled hands.
"Hey!" the boy cried desperately. "That's a family heirloom passed down from my—!"
But Everran merely turned away, inspecting the slingshot dismissively as he moved, ignoring the child's emotional pleas entirely. Roy glanced around uneasily, waiting for someone, anyone, to intervene, but no one dared to step forward against the master mage.
Everran tested the slingshot's tension, drawing the band further and further back until, predictably, it snapped with a sharp crack. The beastfolk boy let out a heartbreaking moan of despair.
But before the boy's anguish could fully settle, Everran muttered quietly again, and the slingshot miraculously reformed in his hand, pristine and flawless. The child's sorrow instantly turned to joy, his eyes sparkling in wonder and relief.
Everran then placed another enchantment, this time focusing on the slingshot's elastic band, and once more began pulling it back. The band stretched impossibly far, holding steady and refusing to break. Instead, the wooden prongs finally gave way, snapping free and embedding themselves violently into the wall of a nearby building.
The boy threw his arms up in silent, helpless dismay. From inside that building, an angry voice shouted, and a figure rushed out onto the balcony, glaring furiously until he saw Everran standing below. The man instantly deflated, bowed awkwardly, and retreated back indoors without another word.
Roy leaned toward Warrex, whispering uneasily, "I'm starting to think this guy's more terrorist than teacher."
Everran glanced back, casually performed yet another quick spell, and once again the slingshot reformed perfectly. At this point, the beastfolk boy simply shook his head, resigned to whatever fate awaited his beloved heirloom.
With meticulous concentration, Everran now began a complex series of incantations, his voice multiplying and overlapping until it seemed twenty voices chanted simultaneously. Tiny glowing runes flowed like liquid across every part of the slingshot, embedding themselves intricately throughout its structure.
Once satisfied, Everran lifted the slingshot again, aiming directly at the dwarf's table. The dwarf wailed in desperate protest. "No! Master Everran, please, I'm begging you—!"
Everran held the dwarf's frantic gaze, utterly unmoved, and released the enchanted projectile. A deafening explosion followed, obliterating the table completely. Shattered fragments scattered in all directions, but a hastily conjured barrier formed instantly around the wreckage, containing every shard before harmlessly letting them drop to the ground. A massive crater several feet deep marked the table's former location.
Another voice shouted angrily from a nearby window, but upon seeing Everran, the speaker abruptly changed tone, smiling nervously. "Oh! Hello, Master Everran. Have fun, please."
Everran turned proudly toward Roy, his expression positively radiant with excitement. "Now, young captain, imagine your battleship. Enchant every part exactly like this slingshot, from the iron plating, or whatever you call it, down to each tiny little nail… thingy inside."
Roy lifted a hand wearily. "I get it. You mean literally everything."
Everran grinned broadly. "Yes, precisely! Enchanted thus, Night… shitter," he said, pausing dramatically again, eyes twinkling mischievously, "will become unstoppable!"
Roy battled frustration at the deliberately incorrect pronunciation. "Okay, that's… great. But you used dozens of intricate runes. I can't even manage simple runic symbols."
Everran waved dismissively. "Trust me,you can."
Lutrian stepped forward calmly. "Sir, Roy genuinely cannot—"
Everran silenced him with an amused wave. "Quiet, you beautiful boy."
Lutrian flushed slightly. "Yes, sir."
Everran refocused on Roy, wagging a crooked finger thoughtfully. "Roy Gunn, I never said you personally would be performing these enchantments."
Roy's confusion deepened. "What?"
Everran leaned in, his eyes glittering conspiratorially. "Those metal golems of yours."
Roy tilted his head. "You mean the Presidroids?"
"Yes! The funny metal men! They're linked directly to your mana, I can sense it," Everran said eagerly. "They could master the runes with precision, far faster and better than any human."
Roy hesitated, glancing uncertainly toward Takara, who now looked ready to faint from excitement.
Everran pressed further, "Let me train half of them for a month or two. Then we swap, and I'll train the rest. Once they master runic augmentation, be it ancient, arcane, or basic, they'll enchant Nightshatter piece by piece, even during combat. A splintered chopstick can become an iron rod, basic elves can shoot arrows through bolders, imagine that scaled up."
Roy finally relented with a resigned sigh. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. You should know if it works within a week or two?"
Everran chuckled softly. "I'll know before morning."
Roy turned slightly. "Serenity, you heard him?"
"Sending half the Presidroids now," Serenity's voice confirmed instantly.
Everran smiled warmly, nodding enthusiastically before simply turning to stroll away. The instant he departed, every bit of damage around them, broken walls, shattered table, blasted street, instantly reverted, perfectly restored as if nothing had ever happened. The slingshot gently reappeared in the beastfolk child's astonished hands, as flawless as before.
Roy watched Everran walk casually away, stunned. "Jesus," he murmured softly, "what the hell is this old dude?"