Stolen by the System

What are you hiding from me?

Ted ignored Cara’s Message and focused on casting the Portal/Area/Return spell. His mana bristled against his control but ultimately obeyed, whisking the circle of wood elves away to the safety of Erinbar.

He paused and took a deep breath. It was exhausting work, each cast pushing against the boundaries of his casting with only one hand, but they were nearly done.

Ignoring Cara’s glares, he moved on to his final group of civilians waiting for transport. They were all old, with expressions more weary and full of sorrow than scared. A few tears, but no howling children, thank the Forest. Waiting for mana was bad enough without that in his ears again.

Tell me what’s going on, Ted. Please. Her Message was devoid of emotion, but the alternating pleading pouts and scowling daggers were not.

Ignoring her forever wasn’t an option, but what the hell was he supposed to say? “Sorry, Cara, but my very presence warps your mind. The forces that created you compel you to treat Heroes differently?”

He suppressed a chuckle. They certainly treated Heroes differently, alright. They listened to him more, sure, but they also had enough free will to recognize that Heroes were bad news.

How exactly did it work? He cocked his head, running the idea around in his head again and again. Did his presence actively affect them, or merely loosen other restraints on their decisions? Cara had always wanted to travel and see the world but never had. Not until he’d arrived.

Was it really so outlandish that Cara simply liked him? After all that they’d been through, was it really that insane? There was no smoking gun, no proof. Just a hunch. A theory, that was all.

Twisting agony knotted in his stomach. No singular proof, sure, but a whole lot of smaller clues that added up to an inescapable conclusion.

And yet they felt no pain from the influence, unlike with Reltan and the paradoxes around the Emperor. Wasn’t that proof that he was being overly cautious?

Ted sighed. If that paradox was his father’s work, then it stood to reason that it wouldn’t be perfect. These AI were massively more sophisticated than anything on Earth—even doing whatever he did at all was no doubt a work of genius.

Evil genius.

Ted checked his mana and allowed himself a bitter smile. Just enough. He was really getting the hang of estimating mana without constantly checking. Slowing his breathing, he focused and cast the spell again, sending the last group of civilians to safety.

“Alright,” Cara said, her hands firmly on her hips. “They’re gone, now talk. Why does it have to be you? Why haven’t you said a word to me since the meeting?”

His stomach hardened. How to tell her that her entire existence was a lie when the System wouldn’t let her learn the truth? “I’ve been busy evacuating civilians.”

“Busy ignoring me.”

Painfully accurate. He met her stare and longing stabbed at his heart, demanding that he hug her tight. But no. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “You’re an artificial intelligence, Cara. A machine. Do you understand that?”

She blinked. “Understand what?”

No surprises there. At least that restriction was easy enough to see. “There’s a kind of magic to this world. Heroes aren’t affected by it, but it affects everyone else’s minds.”

More confused blinks. “That’s impossible.”

Ted sighed. What was the point? One day, he’d damned well find a way to free them. Until then, what could he do but play along? “It has to be me because I’m an outsider.”

Cara’s eyes narrowed to sharp points. “Braca-dung!”

He shrugged. What else could he say?

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I’m coming with you either way.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I didn’t ask your permission, Lookout.”

Ted crossed his arms, flinching at the reminder of his missing hand. “You’re pulling rank now?”

“Not really.” She smirked and kissed him on the cheek. “But I’m coming, anyway. You might need a wood elven perspective, or someone that can actually Stealth.”

Ted swallowed hard. Dangerous or not, it was her life, and she’d chosen to be a ranger long before she’d ever met him. “Fine, but no unnecessary risks.”

“Yes, sir,” she said in an upbeat, teasing tone. “Necessary risks only, sir.”

Necessary risks like death and dismemberment. He breathed deeply and shook his head. “Just… be careful, okay? Now come on, let’s go find Grimhilt.”

“Oh?”

“He has something we’ll need.”

They followed the blasts and bangs to the nearby magic training pit. Looking down at the dwarven mages and wood elven casters trading magic, Ted smiled. They really were learning the value of cooperation.

As they approached, Grimhalt gave a curt nod and held up the bracer Ted had ordered right after the meeting. “Prowler Jeremy tested it,” he said. “It works.”

Ted took the freshly-altered wood elven bracer and inspected it. The straps were adjustable now, and a steel strip emblazoned with runes was attached to the outside. The runes lit up under Discern Magic, but there was no way to know if it would be enough. “Nice work.”

Grimhalt shrugged. “It’s more Idonia’s work than mine. That Telephone spell you taught us is solid. Now, excuse me, I have to get back to teaching wood elves Telekinesis.”

“Thank you, Grimhalt,” Ted said, bowing his head to the dwarf, who returned to the crowd of mages and casters.

Cara leaned over the bracer, examining it with a critical eye. “Those straps are long enough to fit a minotaur. What’s it for?”

“Our best hope for peace,” Ted said, struggling to put confidence into his words. “The dryads kill the ground wherever they walk, right? I’m betting that’s some kind of Nature magic, since fire and freezing are both Fire magic.”

“Make sense.” Cara took the bracer and examined the runes. “These will suppress Nature magic?”

Ted nodded grimly. “For a little while, yes. And the closer the bracer, the better.”

“Stop them killing the Forest, let them connect to the tree-song, calm them down, get them talking.” She tilted her head, pondering for a moment, before smiling bitterly. “That could work. Maybe we can end this without any more killing.”

Could work. Ted bit back a response. It was a better plan than any other he had, but that didn’t make it a good plan. “Right. Bonus, it should stop them ripping you to pieces with vines, at least for a while.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” It was bad enough that she was coming at all. No way she wasn’t getting the best protection possible. “I’m looking forward to respawning whole again—you won’t. Besides which, I can Teleport out of vines.”

Cara stared at him, her face scrunched up. Several long seconds dragged past, but eventually her face softened. “Fine,” she said, switching out her bracer for the new one. “Let’s get moving.”

“You ready?” Ted asked.

“Yeah, let’s go already.”

“Hold on tight.”

Understanding dawned on her face. She hugged him from behind and he assembled a Continuous Force/Area/Levitate spell. Keeping the upkeep less than his mana regeneration, it wouldn’t be fast, but staying airborne would be a whole lot safer than dropping back down into the dungeon spawn-infested Forest.

Not having much experience with Continuous spells, or casting complex magic one handed, he put some distance between them before testing the spell. It was tricky, with the mana flows responding differently for a Continuous spell, but it went off without a hitch.

With that out of the way, he beckoned Cara over and recast the spell, causing the two of them to rise embarrassingly slowly.

“You’re sure you don’t want me with you?” Jeremy asked. “We’d move faster together.”

Ted considered it again for a moment before nodding. “We’re not going to fight. The fewer people we bring, the better.”

“Very well.” Jeremy bowed, slowly becoming more distant. “May the Forest preserve you.”

“You too.”

Cara hugged Ted tight, resting her chin upon Ted’s shoulder. “We can do this. We will do this.”