Rynth: Four Beats

| 6th of Teryusin — Year 362 of the Cycle of Synthesis, Grand Cycle ??? |

Time Stop. The Rynthian Magic Council categorized it as a Tier 6 spell that didn’t always conform to the standard laws of magic. It was included in Aevalin Xerxes’ domain and corresponding Divinitas list. It manipulated time itself, willing it to cease completely in a sixty-foot radius around the caster. Primarys dealt in the elements. Divinitas in the deities’ authorities. Severis in artificing. Stray-si in everything else. There had been recent talks about establishing a fifth form of magic dedicated to manipulating concepts. Such a form, if brought to life, would undoubtedly have Time Stop in its list.

That wasn’t all that made it unique. Avil’s—and by extension the Genesise family's—particular brand was a bound spell, a spell so deeply intertwined in the blood of the Genesise that members of its lineage were able to call upon the power even if they normally couldn’t create effects even half of the strength Time Stop could.

The trade-off was the pain if forced for longer than what the body could handle.

Raoul wasn’t going to give him any time to breathe. The moment they entered their respective battle stances, he vaulted right over the desk and charged at Avil, his fists already brimming now with raw, concentrated Jati.

Contrary to his withered state, his reactions were fast. Avil stood fast, catching the first swing directed at him with his wrist. With his free hand he aimed three swift jabs toward Raoul’s chest. The latter weaved through each one just barely, guided by the orange from Awakening.

Raoul wrenched his own hand free and tugged on his shirt. Eyes focused, he drove a sturdy kick into his side, prompting an ‘urk!’ to spill from Avil’s lips as he barely kept himself upright.

The young master retreated back to his desk, clutching his side. The blunt, dull pain tore through into his guts, but he mustered a swipe over the surface to take an empty mug. Lips quivering, he sent a barrage of mugs at Raoul. “Leave me alone, Raoul!”

Said Raoul raised his arms to block the mugs, but each one still hurt when they hit. He followed swiftly after, left hand weaving into the air circular sigils to form Ice Shard. The lone shard shot ahead of him, piercing Avil’s throwing-wrist and forcing him to drop the mug. Shatter.

“No. I’m going to make sure you realize your self worth!”

He shouted back. “You couldn’t possibly understand me!”

There it was. Avil gritted his teeth and tore off the shard still lodged in his wrist. He pushed his palms together and began weaving a series of signs, each one carrying an immense level of energy in it unmistakable to even the least perceptive mages. The fingers on both his hands twisted into the other in seemingly impossible configurations.

His own senses warned him to interrupt immediately. He didn’t let up. He immediately clocked the two cartoonish hands on the opposite end of the room and pointed them in the direction of Avil. They quickly reacted, dropping the dustpan and broom and moving to trip him up.

The next words that left Avil’s lips shattered the very fabric of reality, slowing it down as he continued. “Arislaapi… magai-padi batur.”

The spell blinked into effect, spreading a barely noticeable gray field from the point of origin that was Avil. It swallowed Raoul in an instant, and before he knew it… all had stopped. All six of his senses faded away, unable to comprehend what had happened in those few seconds.

Too late. He had underestimated just how much quicker and concise the phrase to chant it had gotten.

He was in stasis. Avil caught his breath, but didn’t stop moving. He closed the distance in a single second and sighed. Raoul remained there, arm outstretched in the process of redirecting the hands from Ablution, completely unaware of what was happening in those three seconds.

Nor would he have to know, he thought.

A drained exhale left his nostrils. He channeled the small bits of Jati that hadn’t been sapped away in the initial casting and willed it to flow into his fists. A thin oak-brown aura manifested around his hands, just barely enough to fully coat it. Both fists raised, he mouthed a silent ‘sorry’ and unleashed all that he had on Raoul in a relentless assault.

One fist—smack, straight to the jaw. A second to the stomach. Two more smacks. The third and fourth connected with his left shoulder and chest, where his lungs were. Finally, he twisted around, striking his side—exactly where he had kicked him a few short moments earlier—with a powerful roundhouse kick. At the same time, the sound of glass shattering breached the silence, and time once more resumed.

The energy that had been pending its transfer finally entered Raoul’s body in all the parts he had just been hit at the exact same time. Energy from the resulting blows converged in a shockwave that tore through the air and sent him flying back, stomach to the floor.

Raoul grit his teeth. He couldn’t even scream from the pain. Hot, searing pain was present everywhere in his body. Blood began to spill from his lips. His stomach and chest both bruised in purple and his breaths came in raspy hacks. His arms refused to move, even as he attempted to push off the floor with all his might. All he could do was tilt his head up and watch.

“Sorry… I can’t come with you, Raoul. My fate is to stay right here. Stay down. I’ll call over a servant to tend to your wounds.”

His vision began to blur. No. He wasn’t going to give up there. Three seconds.

Damn it, you…! He screamed inwardly. Get up! Get… up!

Two seconds.

He shared Avil’s gaze in that one second. His pupils flared with anger. Not at Avil, but at himself. He would sulk later. Right now, Avil needed help. Those eyes didn’t lie.

One second.

Mouth still clenched and body still shouting at him to stay down, Raoul pushed through the pain. Everything hurt. His blood was flowing. His bones were likely broken, too. But he knew that it would hurt even more to leave his two friends there.

Finally, he pushed through, using his one good hand to steady himself.

Avil’s brows raised in surprise, clearly not expecting the revival. “You… you’re crazy, you know that? You could’ve just stayed down and let me win.”

“That isn’t me,” replied Raoul. He held his broken shoulder with his right, still visibly aching from the pain. “I won’t go. I’m here to stay. And you’re coming with me, Avil.”

“...Fine, have it your way. I’ll show you that life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. We’re in the real world, and sometimes promises can’t be kept.”

He was back to weaving the signs to Time Stop, clearly confident that Raoul wasn’t healthy enough to interrupt him in time. Unfortunately for him, he had underestimated as well the limits that his friend was willing to go to help.

“Arislaapi… magai-padi…”

“Emergence.”

“...batur.”

That same gray field expanded again, but this time, it didn’t affect Raoul as he had hoped. He blinked, unable to believe the sight that was in front of him. Before he knew it, the cluttered, broken study he had long gotten used to now blurred away from existence, replaced by fields of golden wheat and roads of dirt.

He craned his head up, down, left, and right. “What is this place?”

Raoul hadn’t managed a name the first two times he manifested it, but somehow, the words came to him at that moment. “Kamtari Futyris.”

Endless Futures.

The realization came to him then fully. Raoul was moving completely well.

“Here, time does not exist. Neither does technology. This is my territory. And I’m going to show you that I can help you.”

Above them, the bright, effervescent sunset of Tel Midasia showered, enhancing the golden already permeating the scene. Raoul tore into his pocket, flashing the dagger Urfrey had gifted to him. He held it high above, and it grew bright, immediately taking in the abundant amounts of light into its blade.

“Impossible…how?”

It was filled in the next second. The blade of the dagger by then shone as brightly as the morning sun, a blinding beacon even inside his Path. While Avil was still awestruck, he drew back and eyed his target. Awakening came to him like breathing, and from there he could easily direct his aim no matter how blurry his vision was prior. A single step, and a launch. The dagger left his fingers like a bullet from a gun. Swift and true, it crossed the distance between them in an instant and lodged itself in Avil’s shoulder.

“Augh…!” yelped Avil as he fell. The pain followed the numbness as the dagger released its stored energy inside him in a burst of intense heat.

And finally, just as quickly it had appeared, the picturesque tone of Tel Midasia began to fade away, returning to reality the caffeine-scented study.

Half-limping, Raoul approached, standing over him as the dagger began to cool down.

“I give up,” Avil mustered through the pain, his face a slew of visible pain and somehow, satisfaction. “You win. I never could match you, even in spellcasting. And now you’ve gone and added whatever that was to your list of skills. Life’s truly unfair, isn’t it?”

“You’re far too hard of a critic on yourself sometimes. Without my Driving, you would’ve won. It just so happens that my Path disrupts time.”

“Heh… Still the same as ever. I always did feel at ease when I was in your presence. Something about just being around you made me want to do my best. You win, my friend.”

Raoul reached downward to offer him his hand to take. “Will you join me, Avil?”

For the first time since they had conversed, a genuine smile descended on Avil’s lips. It wasn’t a fake grin. His eyes joined in as well, and from there Raoul knew he was earnest. He quickly took his hand and allowed himself to be brought upright. “I will. I’ll follow you and see where this goes.”

Just then, they caught ear of two hurried footsteps rushing from the stairway. The next moment, the figures of Idri and Calliope burst in through the doors, their weapons drawn.

“Oh. Hey, Cali. And Idri, too.” Avil raised his free hand to greet them. “Where’ve you two been?”

Calliope quickly paced over, inspecting the knife that had perfectly kept itself halfway in his shoulder. “Master Avil…! Did something happen?”

“No, nothing much.” He chuckled, sharing a knowing look with Raoul. “We were just… airing out our frustrations. We’re good now.”

Even Cali noticed the change in his demeanor. “I see…” She shared her own look with Idri, who was keeping her ears pointed in Avil’s direction, likely to listen to his voice.

“Ugh, your voice is so gravelly, Avil. Did you age by twenty years when we were gone?”

Pfft… A chuckle from Raoul.

“Something like that. I’m sorry, Idri.”

“For what?” She tilted her head.

“For not keeping my promise to you. The tree. I couldn’t keep it healthy. I left it alone and drowned myself in my work.”

“Oh, that? Don’t worry, I forgive you. You might have broken our promise, but I couldn’t care less about that, now that you and Cali are back. I’m thankful that Raoul brought the four of us back together.” Idri stopped, and pointed Kranstor’s broken edge toward the ceiling dramatically. “And now, we’re going to go on a journey!”

“A journey?” Cali repeated, tilting her head.

“Ah, right, we forgot to tell you.” Raoul said.

“I’ll do it,” Avil interjected. “Pack our bags, Cali. We’re leaving Cias Buril soon.”

“Soon? What about your work, Master Avil?”

“Eh. Someone will figure it out. Let’s go, before they notice we’re gone.”