Dream Magic: Awakenings (14 page)

One figure seemed taller than the rest.
No... he's short and hunched just like the others, but carrying a staff. It must be a shaman.
More of them were appearing fast, kind of just slipping out of the portal.

So, that's how a goblin invasion begins.
Even though he knew a battle was forthcoming, Eric felt remarkably tranquil. Looking down from the hill, the conflict seemed distant in time as well as space.

The goblins were already too numerous to count. Loud too; their yelling and growling added a constant hum to the background noise. The air carried a different scent, and the grass near the portal seemed to grow darker.
Maybe I'm just imagining it.

Upon recognizing other, more familiar sounds as well, Eric looked to the left. Groups of children were coming in from the Playground, clamoring and battle-ready. Eric took a deep breath to absorb all the anticipation around him.

"It's time. Let's go, we'll find you some equipment."

* * *

For a long moment, Eric stared at the goblin warrior charging at him.

They locked eyes, and the shape of the goblin's ugly grimace mirrored into Eric's stomach; constricting it and making it nauseous.

Eric did not simply freeze, in the way fear and indecision are known to affect a person. The fear punched a hole in his abdomen, taking away not only Eric's nauseous feeling, but also many of his thoughts that were telling him to be afraid.

Eric's thinking ceased and his mind went blank - the implosion of fear turned into an explosion of perception. It was a strange kind of moment, where he could sense everything going on around him.

Everyone, all screams and clashes, were interlocked in the greater pattern of the battle.

The goblin warriors were short and stocky, dealing wounds more proficiently than their opponents. The kids were nimbler, dodging and ducking, outswarming the goblins and putting them off-balance.

There was Ohlson, overseeing the youngest fighters and attacking surgically with Dancing Feather. There were Kyle and Lyle and Duke, biting and yelling, running through enemy lines and casting unstable magics. There was Lucy, and Rose in another spot, fighting alone and pushing the frontline deeper.

Eric's eyes were still on the goblin, and if he had his full mental faculties, he would have found it interesting how the goblin's grimace changed in slow motion.

This state, being so much in the moment to be absent from it, was not without limitations - Eric's trance was slowly fading.

The goblin appeared to be suspended mid-charge and couldn't have changed its path even if it wanted to. It was clear to Eric where the goblin's steps would land and when its crude sword would come down.

The moment was gone. Eric sidestepped, avoided the slash, and whacked the goblin just above the neck.

Eric felt the bone break and the skull crush under the hilt of his sword. He noticed the goblin's battle yell only when it turned into a cry of pain. The goblin's body turned into crimson smoke, leaving behind a smell of blood and perspiration.

Eric raised his sword as part of an impromptu victory dance.

"I did it! I did it! I di-"

The next thing he felt was his own skull being bashed in; shattered bits and bone pieces splashing not only his brain out but also his sense of self. There was no time for pain.

* * *

"I see her!" Eric yelled.

After reappearing in a grove behind the hill, Eric thought it would be best if he stopped the heroics and sought out Rose and Lucy.

"Where?" Rose yelled back.

Eric found Rose quickly. He noticed a large empty space in the middle of the densely packed battle, marked by flying and falling goblins. Rose stood in its center, flinging airballs.

With many goblins around, she would let an airball grow bigger and more volatile. It would knock back and disorient a group of goblins, so others could step in and finish them off. When she needed precision, she would keep the spell more tightly together, so it would lift up and blast away a single goblin.

She's too reckless,
Eric thought when he first saw her fight.
She's wielding that flimsy wand well, but she's isolating herself by pushing too deep into enemy territory.

Eric did not deem it necessary to share this observation, but judging by how easy it was to persuade Rose to regroup, she must have come to a similar conclusion too.

"Over there!" Eric yelled.

The two of them were running towards Lucy, hopping sideways at times to avoid a friendly spell or a carelessly charging kid, and occasionally dispatching a daring goblin.

Every so often Eric rubbed the back of his head, subconsciously making sure the memory remained only a memory.
I have to be more careful.
Each time the nerves in his hand reported a sensation of an uninjured familiar head, Eric exhaled in relief.

It was easier to catch sight of Lucy as they managed to come closer. She was waving her staff without pause: shards of earth rose up one after the other, flew out, and hit their targets. Some goblins got knocked down and remained there, others turned into purplish mist and disappeared.

Eric could see a larger contingent of goblin reinforcements closing in on Lucy's location. They used their swords and shields to deflect her projectiles - with variable success.

"Hurry, she needs help!" Eric shouted.

"I'm right behind you!"

Getting killed by an assailant he could barely see sapped Eric's confidence, but having Rose at his side and the prospect of joining Lucy reassured him.
We'll finally fight as a team!

Also, having his skull smashed in before, he knew what to expect from the worst case scenario, and it wasn't as terrifying as before.
Moments of death are not as bad as the stress of fearing the unknown.

Eric was starting to enjoy the battle and treat it more as a game - that's what the goblins were doing, in their crude and grunting way.
They revel in it.

As much as he loved swords, sticking to mid-range fireballing seemed more prudent than engaging in melee.
Better not risk a trip back from the grove.

The goblin group nearly reached Lucy, and seeing there were too many for her to take on alone, she erected an earthen barrier in front of her. The goblins charged.

Eric kept running. He threw a fireball at a lone goblin in his way, and was considering what course of action to take. The fireball hit, and the goblin evaporated along with the flames.

"Cover me!" Eric shouted to Rose.

The first goblin reached Lucy's shield and gave it a big whack - the shield held.

More goblins arrived and started hammering. A few of them went around, trying to get to Lucy where the barrier was not yet up. Rose's airball made one of them involuntarily airborne, while another got smitten by Lucy's staff.

Lucy managed to complete the shield, which covered her like an earthen bubble and hid her from view. Parts of the shield cracked under the goblins' assault, but Lucy reinforced the damaged parts as soon as she could.

Rose kept hurling airballs, some missing completely, and some serving only as a distraction. "What the hell are you doing?!" She shouted to Eric.

"I'll take care of them, just hold a little longer!"

Eric formed a fireball in his hand, trying to make the improved version he practiced before. He had no staff this time, but he knew what to concentrate on.
Keep the clean energy separate. Rotate, push more fire and keep it stable.

Instead of throwing the fireball, Eric rushed ahead while holding it in his hand.
I can't afford to miss!

"Lucy, strengthen the top!" He barked, unsure if she would hear.

Eric launched into the air, avoiding half a dozen enraged goblins and aiming to come down on top of the protective bubble.

He loosened the rotations and pushed more fire into the ball, which exploded as soon as it made contact with the shield. The blast traveled along the edge of the shield, catching the goblins in the face.

The fire disintegrated all surrounding goblins, except one who just lay there groaning. Lucy walked to the goblin, and slammed down with her staff. This goblin puffed away too; a breeze carrying away the reddish smoke along with the earthy remains of the shield.

The blast didn't burn Eric much - it was his fire after all - but inhaling the heated air hurt. Crashing down through Lucy's shield and twisting an arm in the fall hurt even more.

"Come on!"

Lucy grabbed Eric's other arm and started dragging him back. He stumbled after her while Rose covered their retreat.

Upon reaching friendlier territory, they stopped and slumped to the ground. All of them were breathing heavily. Eric was singed - his face charred and his hairstyle peculiar.

"What a suicidal rescue," Lucy remarked with weary smile.

Rose drew Lucy close in a hug and planted a kiss on her cheek. "You're the suicidal one."

"What about me?" Eric asked.

"You are too," Rose said.

"No, don't I get-"

"Blehh," Rose pinched her nose and leaned away. "You smell like a burnt pig; I'm not going anywhere near you."

Eric slanted his lips. "Raincheck, then?"

"Maybe."

Eric closed his eyes. A battlefield wasn't the best place to rest, but even a moment's respite was welcome.
Breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... breathe out...
He felt the ache in his arm, throbbing with pain to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He tried to put the pain out of his mind, and for a moment, just BE...

Suddenly, Lucy jumped to her feet. "Incoming!"

Before there was light, there was touch.

Mages prefer sight; but touch is close and sight is distant. A healer has to know when to turn one into the other.

- Sense and Comprehension,
Dreamer's Handbook

Healing magic is in a unique position among the magical disciplines, as it has an additional, broader objective: to unify all the magical disciplines.

Skilled shamans, elementalists, symbol-weavers and other mages who insist on maintaining their human identities access the depths through compartmentalization and rely on selective knowledge as well as trained intuition to stay reasonably balanced. Healers operating at those depths do not have such luxury: they do not derive their skills from what they know, but from who they are.

- Magic Beyond Magic,
Dreamer's Handbook

"Pull the dagger out."

Rose shook her head. "I'd rather not. What if I mess up?"

Maeve turned to Eric. "You do it then." Maeve's hand rested on the patient's chest, almost touching the dagger that was lodged firmly in the boy's ribcage.

Eric gulped.

The wounded boy was floating above the ground, resting on nothing but thin air. His body convulsed now and then, following the rhythm of his quiet sobs.

"I... I don't think I can do it," Eric said.

A faint frown ran through Maeve's face.

"May I?" Lucy asked.

Maeve nodded. She withdrew her hand and stepped back. "Go ahead."

"Do I just yank it out?"

"Yes, just pull straight up."

Lucy approached and placed both hands on the hilt of the dagger. She took several deep breaths.

The dagger was of the same crude workmanship Eric saw goblins carry and use in battle. Uneven, possibly rusted blade, with a dirty and deformed handle. He could almost smell the unwashed odor.

"Go ahead," Maeve repeated, encouraging.

Lucy flexed her fingers, tightened her grip on the dagger as much as she could, and gave it a big yank. The dagger dislodged and shot out effortlessly under her guiding hands.

Lucy smiled in relief, but her smile turned into bewilderment as she watched the dagger turn into mist and reappear lodged deeply in the boy's chest.

"What... how-" Lucy muttered.

When the boy noticed the removed dagger reappear in his chest, his distant and resigned sobbing turned into manic crying. "Get it out! Get it out of me! Get it out! Get-" His body rocked violently back and forth as he tried to get up.

Lucy backpedaled.

Maeve acted swiftly: she moved in and placed one hand on the boy's brow. "That's right, just go to sleep." The wailing and the body-jerks stopped. With her other hand she yanked out the dagger and tossed it away in one swift motion - it didn't reappear.

Caressing, she drew her hand across the bloodied wound. The blood went away, and the t-shirt no longer showed tearing; Eric presumed the wound healed as well.

"There... No need to make a fuss. Just rest," Maeve said to the sleeping, floating boy. She drew one hand across his hair, and made an intricate hand gesture with the other. The boy vanished - not in reddish smoke, as defeated combatants did, but with the stretching, perspective-changing motions of a teleportation spell. Eric silently congratulated himself for spotting the difference.

"Fear of death and nightmarish clinging to life often produce a deformed ego-image. With time he would get rid of the blade on his own, but not before going through a valley of shadows of his own creation. Such a complex problem for a simple solution..."

* * *

After battling the goblin warriors, Eric expected the battlefield to be littered with dead bodies.

"The first three levels of healing are very similar, and they are, in order: prevention, patience, and preparation."

"Prevention is about not getting into a situation that would require healing in the first place. Avoid the speeding car and you won't get hit by it - easy, right?"

Eric understood early on in his life the difference between movie violence and real-life violence.

He remembered being whisked away from the site of an accident several years ago. Although he didn't see much, the image of the crushed car remained with him, and the concerned, frightened looks on the adults' faces made a lasting impression.

What he didn't get is why adults seemed to shelter themselves even from the idea of violence, only to revere it from a distance.
Mortality and fear and pressures and thresholds...
Eric caressed the back of his head.
I should've paid more attention to war documentaries on tv.