PftA Book 2 - Interlude 6 - Paradise Lost

A/N: This interlude would go after chapter 45 and answers some of the questions posed by commenters. Specifically, it addresses what happened to the stalker - Xavier. 

“What the hell is that dude’s problem?” Jarrid asked in annoyance as he lounged on the beach. Some of the others had been upset by their sudden relocation several weeks earlier, but Jarrid was smart enough to see it for what it was: paradise.

There were no dimensional rifts spewing monsters, no overly aggressive flora or fauna. They had fresh water and access to a bountiful sea. What more could someone want in a post-apocalyptic world?

It had been lucky that Jaco knew how to make those fishing traps he was using to keep them all fed. The first couple of weeks had been rough, sure. But now that they had huts to protect them from the occasional storm and plenty to eat and drink, they were free to spend most of their time doing whatever they wanted.

There were no jobs, no rules, no police harassing them for trying to make a buck… this place was almost perfect.

If only there were more women, he thought a bit glumly as he glanced over his shoulder at Jana. She’d already hooked up with Donny, and he was one mean sonofabitch when someone messed with him. She definitely wasn’t worth that kind of headache.

Two other women had just gotten dropped in with the loudmouth and a squad of merc-types, but nobody was willing to approach them just yet. It didn’t help that none of their guns worked anymore.

Then again, none of the mercs were carrying guns either.

The loud one was still going on about laws and sovereignty or whatever. It was getting quite annoying, even if Jarrid did agree with most of what the suit was saying. It was the whole reason he and his crew had struck back when they saw the alien-lover messing with the hole in reality.

“I’m pretty sure he crossed the girl, just like the rest of us,” his buddy Kent said as he shook his head knowingly. “There’s no reason his whole team would just up and appear here like that unless they did.”

The alien-lover hadn’t looked like much, just another pretty face manipulated into working for the aliens who’d come to subjugate them. None of them had expected her to shut them down so effectively. It was obvious she’d been given special magic none of the rest of them had gotten. There was no way she could have gotten that strong on her own.

“Sounds like he was part of some resistance within the government,” Jarrid said in surprise. He’d figured all the government types had rolled right over with a little promise of extra power. Hearing some people in the government were still fighting the good fight was comforting.

“Yeah,” Kent agreed, leaning back into the warm sand. “But he sounds like he knew her personally, like there was some kind of grudge or something. You don’t get angry like that unless it’s personal,” the man added knowingly as the sun warmed his skin.

His friend made a good point. Listening to the suit rant, it was clear he knew the woman who’d sent them here. He even called her by name.

Mercer.

“You think anyone will find us out here?” Kent asked after a few minutes. The guy in the suit had finally grown tired of talking and shut up. Thank God.

“Dunno. Maybe,” he replied as he stared into the waves. He could see the shadows of creatures moving beneath the surface, just outside the shallows that surrounded the eastern portion of the island. The shallows generally kept anything too large from approaching the shore and were perfect for fishing or setting traps.

There was hardly any game on the island, though there were a couple of fruit trees and shrubs. One of the guys from the second group sent here had Nature magic, so they didn’t really have to worry too much about food. He’d come in handy with the construction, too. It had actually gotten a few people more interested in testing this new magic system they’d had forced onto them.

One of the shadows slowly began to grow, becoming more solid as it got closer to the shallows. “Hey, Kent,” he said nervously. “You see that?”

As if on cue, the shadow broke the surface, revealing what looked like some kind of crocodile-shark hybrid. Its mouth was like a crocodile, with rows of sharp teeth. Jarrid was pretty sure he’d seen some kind of shark that looked similar, but no shark he knew had legs like that!

“Oh, shit!” his friend barked as both men started crab crawling backward, away from the water.

“Monster!” he called out, alerting the others to the threat, though a glance showed the creature approaching them was not alone. Further down the beach, another shape emerged from the shallows and stalked its way toward the shore.

“I thought you said there were no monsters here!” the suited guy roared. Jarrid wasn’t sure who he was talking to since his eyes were glued to the monster climbing out of the ocean and heading directly for him.

Jarrid didn’t have any weapons on him. The crappy wooden spears they’d made during the first couple of days were mostly forgotten inside their huts at this point. He’d played with the new magic a bit, but only had one actual spell.

Gaining levels and strength had seemed a lot more important than messing with magic that was only good for keeping his food cold. An Ice affinity was practically worthless outside of that.

Still, he shot Ice Bolts at the creature once he got to his feet. The monster seemed to shrug the impacts off, barely pausing when the first salvo impacted it. It was moving slowly, not bothering to rush as he flailed and struggled to keep his footing.

Kent had Water magic, which was pretty much useless in this setting, but he sent a blast of water at the creature anyway before turning and high-tailing it toward the huts they’d built at the center of the island. The creature flinched at his friend’s movement before continuing its steady progression.

“Yeah, fuck this shit,” Jarrid muttered as he turned to flee. Before he could take a step, searing pain overwhelmed his senses as his legs were removed just below the thigh. He screamed as his face slammed into the sand.

The creature had moved much faster than should have been possible, especially outside the water.

He could hear his friends yelling. The new guy was barking orders at the mercs, but it was all background noise behind the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. There was another sharp pain, and he felt himself being dragged into the water.

A black bolt hit him as his head submerged, abruptly ending his suffering. The person responsible immediately began cussing as he realized his attempt to steal a bit of extra experience – because the man was going to die anyway and there was no reason to let the monster have it – had caused him to be marked as an offender of the Accords.

The man, Xavier Armsfield, had reached Tier Two as soon as he’d regained access to rifts, after all. And killing those at lower tiers was an offense in most cases. Had it truly been a mercy kill, the system likely wouldn’t have marked him.

But Xavier was trying to game the system, and the system was smart enough to know the difference.

= = =

Patriarch Henlen Kairos hovered unseen as he watched the drama unfold on the island below. His eyes were cold as the people who would attack his personal disciple ran frightened from the weak Sea Salamanders he’d coaxed into the shallows of the otherwise safe location.

They didn’t deserve the safety provided by someone they tried to kill.

He’d asked his disciple why she’d allowed those who attacked her to live. The Accords would have supported her swift and deadly retribution given the circumstances, and leaving enemies who’d already proven a willingness to kill was simply foolish.

His disciple claimed it was mercy, and he did not gainsay her. He said nothing when she built her little paradise prison. He’d watched from afar as she was attacked and rebuffed those who would kill her for her attempts to help them, each one finding themselves relocated to a paradise in recompense.

It bothered him to see them effectively rewarded, but he said nothing. There was only so much he could interfere in his disciple’s path without risking her ability to ascend.

And he most certainly wanted Emie to be capable of ascending. She was the most talented Time Mage he’d seen in centuries. He suspected the same was likely true regarding her abilities with Space magic. She would make the optimal companion if she managed to reach the peak within the dungeon.

When the government agent slandered her name and poisoned those she was helping against her, he’d been livid, but he’d forced himself to watch and wait. It was only when he and his little group of hired killers decided to attack without regard – or perhaps with full regard to the collateral damage that would accrue that he decided to step in.

He was beyond tired of the self-righteous garbage he often heard from the people of this planet, and the little Shadow/Arcane Mage was one of the worst of them. They felt morally superior to those who would attempt to save them, feeling justified to strike out against those who’ve worked tirelessly to improve their lives.

The little government man had seen the efforts being undertaken. He was involved in the preparation, specifically in the training of various government personnel to adapt quickly to the changes. His unjustified hatred for those seeking to uplift the people of Earth infuriated the Time Mage.

The centuries-old Patriarch cared little for weaklings’ complaints and whining in general. And the people of Earth were infinitely worse than low-tier peasants complaining about the unfairness of Fate. Seeing the state of the world in the years leading up to the reintegration had been a constant annoyance, like a malfunctioning Lightning charm being held to the back of his neck.

He’d been tempted to overthrow the world’s fractured government system several times to solve some of the blatant problems and abuses he’d witnessed, but the Council had warned him off. The only reason he’d agreed to assist with this horrid project in the first place was to find new potential disciples among a new population.

He’d lucked out in finding someone worthy of becoming his personal disciple. It was a position not often offered, and he’d not expected to find such an individual on this backward planet.

Had he not discovered Emie’s potential prior to the reintegration, he doubted he’d have stuck around to see it through. His nerves had already long frayed by the time she awakened, and only the distraction of such a talented disciple had been enough to keep him there. He could have easily completed the obligations of his contract from another location.

Had he left, his servant disciples would have been responsible for finding new, worthy recruits. Given how few he’d managed to contract, he doubted they would have had much luck. Aside from those earmarked by the Atlas subsystem, few had drawn enough attention to warrant further consideration by a sect as powerful as his.

Oh, they’d found more Time and Fate Mages than initially expected, but most were either too old or too weak-minded to fit in among the elite. Of those who had strong enough will, most were overtly hostile upon contact, and he refused to bother with those too closed-minded to understand the grace they’d been extended.

Of the six he’d contracted, only Emie had been worthy of becoming his personal disciple. The rest had merely been granted entry into the sect.

He needed to stop in and discuss a few things with Hadier’s Branch Sect Head, so he’d likely escort them once the terms of his contract were officially met. They’d probably need protections against the mana density anyway, coming from a previously mundane world.

The young-looking elder sighed at one of the many things remaining on his list of things to do.

He was glad that his disciple hadn’t been alerted to the attempted assassination. It was unlikely she’d bother checking on the island before her departure unless another person or group were idiotic enough to attack her without reason.

If she did, she’d likely find the island far less hospitable than she left it. It had only taken a few minor shifts and tweaks to the ocean rifts to shake things up. Because the challenges were reasonable and not overwhelming, there was no risk of an Accords violation. If he’d sent some of the deeper, stronger creatures… he’d still probably be fine.

It wasn’t murder if they had a reasonable chance at success. Otherwise, the whole dungeon project would never have gotten off the ground.

Needless to say, his disciple was far more merciful than he was.