Information

Huzzah
Legacy Name: Huzzah

The Nuclear Jollin
Owner: Pureflower

Age: 12 years, 2 months, 3 weeks

Born: January 29th, 2012

Adopted: 12 years, 2 months, 3 weeks ago

Adopted: January 29th, 2012

Pet Spotlight Winner
February 13th, 2019

Statistics

• Level: 36
   
• Strength: 115
   
• Defense: 8
   
• Speed: 13
   
• Health: 11
   
• HP: 11/11
   
• Intelligence: 42
   
• Books Read: 22
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Scuba Instructor

A drop of sweat formed on her forehead, trickling down her cheek with agonizing slowness. She could almost swear she heard a tiny plop as it fell to the floor. She wet her lips and took a deep breath, preparing to mutter the final phrase of the incantation.

The Masters stood in a half-circle, their eyes locked on the intricate design drawn in blue flame. So far every symbol was perfectly drawn, but there was a reason only twelve had achieved their rank. The circle containing the spell had to be flawless. The slightest quiver of the apprentice’s hand would leave her dead and the wizards short a tower, and they were getting quite tired of rebuilding.

The only sign of their tension was in their white-knuckled grips on jewel-topped staffs as she shouted the words of command. A dazzling tree seemed to explode from the floor, its every leaf and twig formed from brilliant blue light. She uttered a cry of sheer euphoria as the warmth of her magic flowed through her body to sink into the earth. Even with her eyes closed the image of the light-tree was burned into her mind. Tendrils of light branched from its roots, connecting her to the heart of every tree in the realm. For the briefest of moments she was a tree, reveling in the comforts of rich soil cushioning her roots and the gentle patter of raindrops on her crown.

A piercing shriek filled the air, though she could not hear it in her trance. Three wizards fell, their screams echoing throughout the stone chamber. The others were more fortunate, teleporting just before the explosion of the creature that would come to be known as the Great Silver Bird. She could feel the agony of thousands of trees as the unbearable force of the explosion devoured them, crisping them to their roots. The impact of her body striking the floor broke her concentration at last. The last thing she saw was her dissolving Tree of Light.

* * * * *

When she awoke, it was to a world turned gray. By some miracle, none of the tower’s tumbling stones had crushed her. She crawled out from under a ledge formed by two stone pillars, groaning and clutching her head.

“Hello? Is there someone there?”

She began to brush ash from her arms as she waited for the speaker to approach. She wasn’t overly concerned for her safety. She’d once won an argument with an irate dragon and from the tone she could tell this one was only human. She froze as the dust fell away. The silky brown coat she had always taken pride in had fallen away, replaced by coarse black hair but that was not what caused her to gape. Strange symbols appeared to have been painted on her arms while she was unconscious. They were green and they were glowing. She rubbed at them frantically. To her dismay, they did not even smudge.

A figure such as she had never seen turned the corner around a crumbled statue. His robe was the bright yellow of the sun, crinkling and billowing with every step he took. His face was hidden behind a sheet of clear stuff that looked like glass but rippled like water.

He stopped, his eyes widening at the sight of her. The iron box he carried fell to the ground with a dull thud. With no warning he fell to his knees with a mighty groan. “I have failed.”

She came to stand over him, crossing her arms over her chest and offering her best glare. “Many lives have been lost this day because of you and all you can do is wail like an infant.”

“This is exactly the sort of occurrence I was trying to prevent.” He seemed not to notice he was being addressed by a glowing foxlike creature. “For seven years I’ve worked to calculate the dimensional complications that would allow this journey. Seven wasted years! But you would know nothing of that. You are a member of the Order of Stone, are you not? It is said you can speak to any living creature and even control the elements”

She narrowed her eyes. Outsiders were not meant to know such details. “What are you? No human can cause such destruction and even the weather wizards could not cause such widespread destruction.”

He sighed. “In my time your Order has been dead for nearly eight hundred years. Only the most eccentric of scholars even believes magic ever existed and we have long lost the secret of it. We’ve been forced to find other means.” He waved an arm at the distant black crater. “The device that did this is called a nuke. It is the tool that is destroying our world. It’s why I invented the Transporter.”

He held up his wrist on which he wore a thick silver band. “It allows me to not only see the past or present as you can, but to travel there. I was to carry the bombs to times and places they could do no harm after they had been disarmed.” He pounded a fist into his gloved palm. “I have been betrayed by a man who desires power at any cost. What’s worse is he damaged the components of the transporter. I dare not attempt to fix it myself. Your magic may give you some form of resistance to the radiation that thing dispersed but I have no such protection. Without my suit I’d be dead within an hour. I need your help.”

“I want to see this man.” She moved to a shallow pool coated in a thin layer of ash. She closed her eyes, sinking to her core, allowing her inner light to spread and fill her skin. The familiar blue glow of her magic was tainted by a sickly greenish light. She took a moment to master the nausea that shot through her as she muttered the required phrase.

At best she expected a few flashes of images. Future viewing was always vague. The water lit with a flood of pictures. They depicted monstrous structures built of a strange silver metal that jabbed at a sky the color of dried blood. Trees were blackened poles surrounding lakes that bubbled with foul muck. Another image showed monstrous machines tearing ancient trees from their birth places, frightening woodland creatures from their homes. Though their coats were strange colors and their shapes unfamiliar it was not hard to distinguish predator from prey. All were driven into steel-lined nets to be slaughtered. In each location stood a balding man with a diagonal scar that ran the length of his face. With each new bit of destruction, his face lit in a grim smile.She sobbed the words that ended the spell, staring for long moments at the murky pond’s surface. The symbols on her arms had brightened to a blinding glow that gradually faded. “What must I do?”

“You are the only one who can safely handle the components of the Transporter. Your magic somehow counters the poison in the air.”

She eyed the silver band doubtfully. “I know nothing of blacksmithing.”

He snorted at her term, raising his hands when she glared. “You won’t need an anvil, I promise. I’d like you to take the knowledge from my mind. I know you can do it.”

She hesitated. Mind merging was not her specialty and not to be taken lightly.

An image of the scarred man came to her mind like a noxious fume. He kicked at a cat scared from her den by a roaring metal monster. She fled with a yowl of dismay, only to reach a dead end in the form of more machines. “I’ll do it.”

She had never experienced such an odd sensation. She guided the magic, but it was as if her hands were under his control. Mind magic went two ways. His thoughts were filled with the names of strange people and items, organized to help him survive an entirely different world. They both sighed as she snapped the final panel in place. He clapped the device to his wrist again as it began to hum gently. She studied him with new understanding as her thoughts became fully her own. He raised a hand in farewell, his expression wistful as white light surrounded him.

* * * * *

The surviving wizards came for her three days later, and while their magic also protected them from radiation, their appearances remained unchanged. They called her all manner of bad names for what they believed to be shoddy spell casting but she had survived her initiation and they could not deny her the staff she had earned. They did, however, charge her with building the new tower.

Magic greatly expedited the process. One month later she looked out on a valley lush with greenery from her new quarters. It was an elaborate illusion that would blanket the land for as long as a wizard lived to maintain it.

Taking up a pitcher, she carefully poured water into her scrying bowl. From an earlier viewing she knew the scarred man would pay dearly for his many crimes. She barely had to mutter the traveler’s name before his image appeared. He stood before a council dressed in rich purple robes, bowing his head as one of its members hung a gold medallion around his neck. At his side stood his little daughter in a pretty blue dress. She astonished the crowd by creating three yellow bubbles of light which she juggled above her head. The wizardess smiled as the brilliance of her symbols faded.

Profile coding by Bug
Story by Pureflower
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