To Rebuild a Mageocracy

Two

^^ Anitra the Storm, Portrait ^^

— Arcata, Dungeon Entrance (Laura) —

My eyes opened slowly, painfully; my entire body felt like a bruise that had been scraped with a cheese grater, and my eyes were no exception, apparently. Breathing was no easier, but it was a necessity, so the task was completed, no matter how difficult. The collision of a panicked-looking guardsman into her body did her no favors, and her pained groan was enough to shock him back a step. "She's alive!!! Get the Healers, she's alive!!!"

"Your voice clearly can wake the dead, you brainless child." A woman's hand made a ringing sound as it whipped the side of the guardsman's helm, and she knelt beside me, revealing long bronze hair much like my own and a glowing hand which brought with it soothing relief to the many wounds across my body. "You'll be alright, Ani, I'm here, now. You had a close call with that Dungeon Spawning so close to your room, do you remember?"

I shook my head, truthfully denying knowledge of the event; I had been given a brief overview of the knowledge of my body's previous life, but I lacked most of her memories; luckily, or I suppose sadly, everyone who had actually known her personally had been picked off and assassinated over the year or three prior to this event, due to a Succession War. Oh yeah, right, because Muradin decided to make me- "Duchess Anitra? How are you feeling?" The guardsman asked again, having returned back to my side from his previous retreat from the healer's fearsome slap to his skull.

The healer's fearsome slaps came back into play as she swatted at him several times, shooing him away. "I've just begun healing her, you Oaf!!! Dedicate some Stat Points to your fucking Int Stat before you die from forgetting to breathe!!!"

"Well that's just rude, Lady Dana; I would have you know that my Int is almost 50!" The guard struck a pose triumphantly, but it didn't last very long with her withering response swift to strike him down.

"You mean the standard value of the average Tier One Cleric or Scribe? Aren't you Tier Three, Guardsman?"

"W-well..."

"Enough... my head hurts and your childish flirting is truly painful to listen to. Either kiss or shut up, both of you." I sat up slowly, cracking my back and trying to wobble my way to my feet, feeling much better from the healing I'd been given. 'A percentage heal, huh? Must be... definitely not a set numerical heal, in this world where there's different HP in every person.'

"Well, someone is feeling better, if they can make sarcastic remarks... how's your balance?" The bronze-colored mage tapped my back gently, pushing me forward to see if I could respond; to my credit, I did not topple over, but I did have to take a step forward due to her strength stat completely overpowering mine. "Mm, good, that shows there's likely no brain damage... you'd need a better healer if there was damage to your Brain and Organs. Now- who goes there?!?" The healer shoved me behind her, drawing a longsword from behind her hip and brandishing it at a group of heavily armored people approaching with a glowing crystal carried between them in a jury-rigged sling.

"The God of Stone and Ore has ordered his Inquisitors to gift this Core to one Anitra the Younger, Chosen Champion of Muradin, God of Magic, as sign of our remorse for the passing of Anitra the Storm, the Proselytic Paragon of Muradin and the Order of Mana. Remove yourself from our path, or you will be removed. You will not receive another warning, Mage or no."

"Move, I'm expecting them." I placed a hand on her hip, moving her out of the way slowly while I wobbled forward towards the crystal. "Stone Eye said it would take a few hours for you to clear the dungeon, even with all your strength... clearly you exceeded his expectations. Most impressive, Inquisitors."