The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage: Wandmaker Vol.2

WM [111] That's A Dumb Name

Screams echoed through the broken tunnels, mingling with the hiss of steam and the groan of shifting stone. Dust hung heavy in the air, choking every breath. Injured workers and terrified civilians stumbled through the rubble, bleeding, crying, calling out names with growing desperation. Collapsed corridors had swallowed entire sections of the underground complex, and people clawed through debris in search of loved ones.

Emergency personnel, both flesh and metal rushed through the carnage. Human medics and android units worked side by side, dragging survivors free and stabilizing the wounded. The flashing lights of medical drones cast eerie shadows against the broken walls.

Isin moved through the chaos like a man possessed, carefully shouldering through the panicked crowd. In his arms, he cradled Mihr, holding her close as if the world might try to take her away. He shielded her with his body from jostling arms and falling dust, his jacket wrapped tightly around them both.

She wasn't a normal infant. He'd known that the moment he held her for the first time. No newborn should have survived the stress of the past hour. The relentless sprinting, explosions, the tremors, the collapsing tunnels. Even with all that, Mihr slept peacefully.

Her breathing was slow and even, her tiny face serene. It was as though she were tucked away in a nursery rather than being carried through a disaster zone. Her body, though small and soft, had a weight to it. It was a density of power that belied the immense magical energies within her. Isin could feel it, he could feel the mana and aether coursing through her. It saturated her bones and skin like in a way he had only seen in the Divine. It made sense she was at least three-quarters Angel, and probably more.

Her mother had survived decapitation with little more than a temper tantrum. There was no question. Their daughter could handle far more than a little running and dust.

"This way, I think," Isin muttered, glancing at the collapsed corridor ahead. "With so many tunnels—"

He stopped short as he turned the corner only to find another cave-in blocking the path.

"Damn it," he hissed under his breath.

He pivoted and sprinted in a new direction. The weight of Mihr in his arms grounded him, but it couldn't suppress the gnawing guilt growing in his chest. This is my fault.

If he hadn't provoked Nuriel, if he had just held his tongue, bought more time. She wouldn't have used such devastating magic and the mines wouldn't have collapsed. Maybe the dead would still be alive. He couldn't have saved everyone. He knew that. Not right away.

He gritted his teeth and ran harder, the pounding of his boots echoing like thunder through the broken tunnels. He shoved the guilt down, buried it beneath the urgency of survival. Later, he would mourn.

***

Bjorn came too in the air, Failsafe screaming for him or Isin to wake up. It took a moment for him to recognize what was happening. Consciousness hit like a slap. The ground was rushing up fast. His heads whipped around for the lake and what he saw sent shivers through him.

The mayaborn creature was flying directly above him, riding the air like a predator circling prey. It looked almost like a dragon pup. It wasn't large, about the size Bjorn had been when he first hatched, so, no bigger than a large dog. Its wings were leathery, its body wide and flat, more lizard than dragon. Jagged, stone-like scales covered its frame, threaded with glowing, bioluminescent veins. It had far too many teeth for its small mouth.

Identify
Name: None
Species: Níðhöggr
Level: 100
Vocation: N/A

"Dad, hungry." A small voice invaded Bjorn's mind.