"To become a Null later in life, you must do so at exactly one time: When you have reached Seven, and you have taken your third Level in Human."

The question leapt into their eyes, but Sama continued on without interruption. "Everyone here knows that elves are both warriors and wizards, all dwarves can fight, all of the humanoids that raid here get tougher with time and age. As dragons get older, they get stronger and tougher.

"That is a Racial Class. Stronger, tougher. Elves become more elvish, dwarves become more dwarvish, dragons become more like dragons.

"Humans have a Racial Class, too. It doesn't get used much, because of magic." She waved her hand at something invisible and everywhere dismissively. "You are all familiar with Wizards. You've heard of Clerics, even if Zanzyr denies them entry here. There are Thieves and there are Warriors and Fighters. Most of you have taken a couple steps along the road of a Warrior.

"On the Class Side of things, you must reach Seven. From a spiritual perspective, this is the equivalent of a Third Adept wizard. To activate Forsaken, you must also reach Three in the Human Racial Class that makes you more of what a Human is.

"You, your name." She pointed directly at the only other Seven in the room.

The lanky, broad-shoulder blond fellow in a warrior's kilt got to his feet. "Tannig McGorky, Lady Rantha," he replied quickly.

"You're a Human Zero," she stated bluntly. "Like everyone else here, save Miklan and I. You are also a Seven, one of the brightest young warriors of this town. Congratulations, it's no small accomplishment." His smile was a bit forced, but it was sincere. "If you wish to become Forsaken, you must take your Human One, Two, and Three, embracing what it means to be Human, and then choose to Defy the Magic."

She glanced over the others. "There is no deviation from this, there is no alternate path, there is no 'my way'. If you all wish to become Forsaken and Defy the Magic, that is the stone cold path you must tread, as did countless men and women before you who became fed up with being in a magical world with no control over their destiny, and decided to seize it back."

She pointed at Tanning as determined expressions came over the faces of the Caers there. "You I can guide to Human Three. It will take a couple of weeks, involve a lot of violent combat and fighting, but you will make it there. Once you do, I can show you the road and you can make it to Forsaken, Tannig McGorky."

His gaze fell on that massive rock she had heaved out of the ground, and the fingerholes she'd left behind in doing so. "I'll do whatever I have to do, Lady Rantha!" he declared without hesitation.

"Good," she nodded once. "I have HIGH demands for my students, as Miklan can attest to." Said son of the McMikals just nodding once and rolling his eyes, and they finally believed some of the shit he'd told them.

"What about this resistance to magic, Lady Rantha?" one of the more irrepressible young men piped up eagerly, a young fellow with chocolate blond curls.

"Not magic resistance," she corrected him instantly. "That's like me saying you're wearing a skirt," she pointed at him and all those in kilts, and he flushed. "Forsaken have Forsaken Auras. These Auras grow stronger with Levels and personal strength, and are effectively your soul pushing back against the attempt of magic to influence the reality around you. If you are powerful enough, magic and spells can't even come near you. Mages and spirits can't exist between dimensions, and things which shouldn't be able to fly, can't fly."

Excitement began to build as hands urgently raised, questions started to fly, Sama glared everyone to silence, and asked, "Miklan, is Isadora done with the offers outside?"

"Aye, most seem interested in starting something new away from Zanzyr. A couple are slinking away." He shrugged, not needing to say what kind of fools they were.

"Good. Let's give them a show of what Forsaken can do."

---

The hissing black of the magical arrows struck Sama's chest, and vanished, doing no harm.

The next volley vanished five feet away from her.

Then the Fireball blew out and tried to envelope her, reducing the grass to charred ash… except it couldn't get within ten feet of her, and so left the grass about her untouched.

Isadora was Blinking around like some kind of ghost or spirit, Sama put her foot down, and all that nonsense stopped so suddenly Isadora nearly felt down at the jolt as her magic ran into an Interdiction wall across the Veil.

She flew up into the air with magic, and Sama put her foot down, and she fell out of the sky in Miklan's arms waiting for her.

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She Summoned up a Wall of Ice to block Sama, who literally tore it apart with a single Null Strike, unmaking it and removing it from the world, and strode right up to the Caster, grabbed her by the throat, and shoved a palm strike at her.

Isadora's long black hair blew out behind her as the strike flowed over and past her face, the force of it making her entire body go limp as she and everyone else realized she would have died if that hand had done more than touch the tip of her nose.

Sama made it look effortless because it was. These were base abilities of Forsaken, all about becoming Pillars of Reality and reinforcing what the world was, instead of what a Caster was trying to make it.

Oh, long-term magicks, those made Permanent, or bound to items with blood and soul, were harder to get rid of, suppress, or unmake, that was absolutely true. But the Forsaken turned what was natural and real into a weapon against beings of magic, and made them obey the rules much of the rest of the world was based on.

But not the square-cubed law, which Sama bemoaned, but Forsaken Aura's didn't extend inside people and so couldn't do anything about Stature effects allowing unreasonably large things to move around with relatively no effort, especially such things as giant bugs.

It was what it was.

In any event, the potential to learn this non-magical stuff had them all fired up and willing to volunteer for whatever the training was in short order.

--------

"Gave them three days to get their affairs in order, and for the local lord to react, as I'm sure he will." Sama smiled wolvishly as she took a drink of Ceruilan elven mead, slurping at the foamy head and letting the smooth honey of the liquid flow over her tongue.

I'd brought a lot of vintages and viands of today and the past here to my version of the Inn for replication.

"Have you got plans for them already?" I had to ask, sipping at my own wine. Mead was for raucous celebrations, at least for me. I didn't do raucous.

"We're going to take Newport," Sama replied with a smooth nod.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Aggressive, right out of the gate. Both Delpha and Siricil have influence there, one overt, one covert."

"You've heard that the Empress of Delpha is planning to install one of her sons in Aetla, right?" Sama asked me.

"You've intelligence on the Imperial Court? Impressive," I told her, nodding slowly. "Yes, one of my Sims has been an Imperial tutor for several centuries, as well as serving on the Delphan Imperial Council."

"That's impressive right back to you," Sama smiled at the coup. "Based on that… Lusimistra?" she asked.

"Yes."

"How did she get on the Council while not being an Overmagus?" Sama asked reasonably.

"She trounced a dozen of them in spell combat while they were unable to dispel her spells. The ones who objected shut up before she humiliated them, too, and she was voted in. There's been half-a-dozen elven Wizards who've made it since, but she set the precedent, and the half of the Council who want to humiliate her and reaffirm their supremacy would have to go through the half who are indebted to her, are former students of hers, or are quietly in love with her as a mother figure or mentor. Also, the last three Emperors are former students, so that helps matters along, too."

"Melinsu is a former student of hers?" Sama asked archly.

I just lifted up my nose. "Of course not. That lazy fool is a misogynistic power-mad fool who can't wait for something untoward to happen to his mother so he can take the throne. Neither his mother nor his grandfather have been able to rein him in, he's definitely got something wrong with his head. Lusimistra has been more about making sure he will not live to take the throne than trying to get him to look at the world differently. He's the living incarnation of some of the absolute worst tendencies of the original Delphan bloodlines. Based on some of his habits he's hid from his parents, he should probably have been dropped from an airship at birth."

"Harsh. Also, not wrong. If he didn't fear finally pushing his mother too far, he would definitely have been doing some very unkind things to those who don't respect him much," Sama agreed with another cheerful draw on her booze.

"I am aware Newport has to be conquered to secure the flank of what we plan to do in Eislas. The reason you're making this a Forsaken project?"

"One, I'm going to make this a Forsaken project, period. No mages, only Healers, warriors doing the fighting and using all the means and methods any man could use, as lessons to everyone coming after them on how things are going to change in war going forward.

"The other is… do you know anything about the place?" she sniffed scornfully.

"It's a hive of scum and villainy," I replied directly. "The Thieves' Guild hold all the power in town, it's a pirate den and brigand base, and if it weren't in an ideal location for trade from three directions, it would probably have been burned down and abandoned quite some time ago. Delpha might appoint the town's governor, but the power they hold is mostly ceremonial. The position is basically a punishment for non-wizardly nobles known to be corrupt, they get bribed as soon as they are in place, and nothing changes that the Guild doesn't want changed."

"Based on what I already know about the town, I'm probably going to have to burn it down, fill in everything secret underground, and start building an actual decent port and trade center for the southern border of the new nation being built there," Sama huffed. "The place is a slimy pit, a fire hazard, and has no infrastructure worth the keeping. However, we can't have such a place on our flanks or influencing our trade. Ergo, it has to go."

"I don't imagine it will take all that much to conquer the place?"

"A thousand will take it instantly. The place isn't walled effectively, the morale of the troops is crap, with no leadership and no care for their home," she confirmed smoothly. "Burning it all down won't take too much longer."

"Can you get a thousand men out of Zanzyr? They definitely aren't going to like you taking basically most of the younger generation…"

"We have to head to New Vascovune and check out the younger people there, but I'm fairly sure they have potential Forsaken among them as well. I think between being fed up with MacKlannisters and being fed up with Jean-Arcs, getting a thousand volunteers actually isn't going to be that hard," she smiled, and flexed her hand, popping her fingers. "And if the wizards in charge disagree with me, well, they are going to learn a somewhat painful lesson of respect for non-Casters…"

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