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Short Story: Blue Mana


 Charlotte was gazing through a set of field glasses.  Even at five times the size, the people looked like ants.  She tried to count them as they swarmed over and behind the sand dune.  There were more than six, at least two were armed, and three were engaged in water summoning.

An arm snaked around her waist, legs kicking hers from behind.  Without thinking, Charlotte drew manna into her hands, releasing it through her fingers with a crackling pop.  Her assailant jittered, then dropped, pulling her with him onto the shale.


“Coulda seen who it was first, Charlotte,” the man panted.  Like her, he had tan skin and curly hair, and like her, he wore a belt tooled with storm clouds.


“You shouldn’t sneak up on people, Rossi,” she pulled away from him.  The added heat of his body was unbearable.


“See anything good?”


“Yeah, you?”


“Nope.”


“There’s three Mages summoning water over by that dune,” Charlotte pointed.


“How’s that good?”  Rossi sat up, blood trickling from a crack in his sun-chapped lips.  


“Water, Rossi.”


“Mages, Charlotte.  Three Mages against two Healers.”


Lightning Healers,” she decided not to mention the Soldiers.


“Yeah, fine.  Whaddaya want me to do?”


They stayed low as they approached, their beige tunics blending into the sand.  Their shadows were deep blue twins closing in from either side.  Only the Mage in the middle knew what hit her.  Nailing Charlotte with a jet of water, she raced around the side of the dune.  Rossi followed her, a blue glow forming in his hands.


For a moment, Charlotte lay where she fell, unable to breathe in or out.  Once her breath came back, she crawled her way around the dune.


Rossi lay on his back, blood jumping from his neck with each pulse of his heart.  Charlotte crept forward.


“Look what those bastards did,” the voice sounded like it was right next to her.  Charlotte froze.  “They killed Preston and Mia.”


“I got one of ‘em.  Shot ‘em straight through the neck.”


Charlotte inched forward.  Each movement sounded loud to her, the crunch of compacting earth, the sigh of sand as it refilled her elbow and knee prints.  She placed her hands around Rossi’s neck and focused her mana into the wound.  Once the bleeding was under control, she directed some of her mana into making a shield around them.


“What do we do now?”


“We wait.  That other piece of Healer scum is around here somewhere.”


Healer scum.  Charlotte couldn’t count the number of times she’d heard the phrase, yet still, it made her feel like a broken glass.  She and Rossi were powerful; with a deftness, most Mages lacked, and the ability to recover from injury.  But when it came down to it, their mana was blue and incapable of producing fire, wind, water, or earth.  They were glasses that couldn’t hold water.


“What’s a matter?” Rossi’s hand closed over Charlotte’s.


“Shush.”


The silence on the other side of the dune told her that they had been heard.  She took her hands off Rossi’s neck and focused on the shield around them.


They appeared in a blast of gunfire.  Each bullet bounced off Charlotte’s shield, ricocheting into the side of the dune.  The sand showered down on them, then hung suspended in the air, sparkling like glass in the unrelenting sun.


“I really could use a drink about now,” Rossi propped himself up on his elbows, “Something cold and smooth.”


Charlotte looked down at him.  He grinned at her.  “Let’s do that one thing,” she looked at the airborne sand, “but aim at their earth shield.”


“Okay, say when,” Rossi sat cross-legged, blood drying in the pools of his collar bones.  The hole in his neck was sealed with a fresh scab.


There was another spatter of gunfire.  Charlotte could feel sweat dripping down the front of her chest.  “After they stop,” she gritted her teeth.


Her ears still ringing from the sounds of the bullets, Charlotte dropped her shield, “When.”


Lightning.


There was a burst of blue and a sizzling pop.  The shield of sand shattered.  Dust filled the air, and Charlotte ran away from it, one hand on the dune.  Rossi was behind her, his fingers hooked into her belt.  


There was a splash as they hit the water.  Charlotte fell to her knees, rinsed her face.  “Healer scum,” she tried it, hoping it would hurt less if she repeated it, “Healer.  Scum.”


“You know,” Rossi submerged his canteen, “that’s all I ever hoped to be.”


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