Rem and Amaia left the walls of Darkgloom behind them, their boots carrying them west along the winding road towards the looming shadow of the Dark Forest. The city's noise faded away with every step they took, replaced by the steady hum of insects in the surrounding fields. The forest itself was still several dozen miles away, but their path was not empty for long.
From a bush ahead came a sharp rustle, as several small green figures walked out onto the road. They were no taller than eight-year-old children, their beady yellow eyes glowed above their cracked teeth. They carried scavenged bows, rusty swords, and dented armor pieces on their bodies that looked stolen from corpses. A handful of them screeched incoherently, waving their blades upon seeing Rem and Amaia. From behind, the bush split open again as another dozen goblins emerged, cutting of Rem and Amaia.
Rem's gaze sharpened. She tilted her head toward's Amaia. "These look like what's described in the books I read back on Earth they are goblins. Who knew they would actually exist here? It's like some cosmic entity created every creature humanity has ever imagined and shoved them all onto one planet a hundred times the Earth's size. Even I don't possess that kind of magical capability Amaia."
Amaia's armored gauntlet covered had flexed at her side. "My lady, what you say makes sense. Perhaps this could be a clue to the origin of this world their ability to so accurately mimic Earth's mythology. They carry fragments of what I recognize as House of Remembrance's magic… and even traces of primitive human technology. I've observed magic constructs at work here in Elsera. However, they are only basic autonomous machines. It is curious how they came to be."
Rem gave a short nod, but the goblins held no patience for philosophy. They screeched and surged forward, blades raised, eyes locked onto Rem. To them, she is a forbidden piece of flesh worth dying for. Amaia's steel-grey eyes moved over the charging mob, but she remained still. Amaia knows her lady's mood Rem wants to kill them herself.
Rem shifted Ciara to into her right arm, and with her foxes soft body now tucked securely in her right arm. Rem lifted her left hand raising a single finger, her expression became excited. As a thin orange spark ignited at the tip if her finger, and without a single spoken magic word or incantation, a roaring cone of fire burst outwards from Rem's finger.
The wall of flame tore across the road. Goblins howled once, then disintegrated, their bodies reduced to ash in a instant. The heat was so intense that the packed dirt of the road glowed red, liquefying into molten stone. The air trembled with the force of the heat.
Ciara's round eyes widened, her tails stiff as she watched her mistress unleash devastating magic with a wave of her finger.
Rem lowered her hand, frowning at the melted gouge in the road. "Oh shit. I put too much force into that spell. I'm out of practice with attack magic. Look at this road Amaia I can't let anyone see this." Rem turned to Amaia saying. "Hold Ciara while I fix this mess."
Amaia accepted the fox into her arms without protest, and Rem spread out both of her hands. She inhaled once, then swept her arms outward. The scorched earth shifted and rose, flowing like water. The cracks sealed, the fresh dirt hardened, and in moments the destroyed road looked as good as new.
Rem exhaled, satisfied, and snatched Ciara back from Amaia, burying her face against the fox's fur of justice. "My fluffy savior of justice," Rem said, rubbing her cheek against Ciara's head. The little fox let out a helpless "mew," her two tails moving in annoyance.
For an instant, Amaia's sharp eyes caught it Ciara does not have two tails, but three. A ghostly third tail shimmered into view, then phased out again as if it never existed. Ciara's innate magic hid it almost instantly. Amaia said nothing, Amaia and Rem saw the third tale previously in Darkgloom and are both well aware that Ciara is far from normal.
Amaia's own mind turned briefly to Ishtar Rem's father. The hundreds of orders he gave to her before he died still filling up her memory trivial orders but important to Ishtar. Amaia remembered one order in particular, his exasperated voice still ringing in her magi-core "Amaia make sure you store all my talking portraits in a utility closet aboard the Arc. If Rem sees them, she'll throw them into the incinerator and burn every reminder of me up. You must maintain my dignity as her father. Woe is me… if her mother were still alive, perhaps she could accompany Rem. But instead, all I can do is send you, my greatest creation, and a vast army of magic constructs to aid her."
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