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He’d met a few with a sensible tahvic name like his own -Jahn- but they were rare. A name didn’t make up for their overall senselessness and disrespect.

A flight of arrows struck him in the chest but bounced off the heavy, leather shirt that had been enlarged along with the rest of him. He looked towards the archers about seven strides away and kicked at the ground, raising a hurricane of dust, dirt, and rocks. He let out a roar as he charged but his heart wasn’t in it. Soon that tiny collection of humans, dwarves, orthoc, and goblins would be ground underfoot and he wouldn’t have even raised a sweat in the process. He hadn’t even had to use his club, yet. If metal objects could have been enlarged by the wizard’s spell, the fight would have been over even more quickly.

Aaron probably loved this.

The sky was dark with layers upon layers of clouds as well as the overhead passing of Tomin Kel. The floating island would eclipse Arvarren for the next month. But even when one of the higher islands of the Daylands, Cloudlands, or Lightlands hadn’t interposed itself between the sun and a Duskland like Arvarren, the miles and miles of atmosphere and clouds still kept the land in a soft, late-afternoon twilight. Tomin Kel was big enough that, while directly overhead, cast the land below in deeper shadow. Normally it would have been the perfect environment for a tahvic. Dim light and warm air made for an advantageous battleground in small versus large people.

Thanks to Aaron’s damnable spell, though, he was a blunt object. He was a giant that loomed over the landscape with as much grace and subtlety as a troll.

Aaron had arrived in Talvali during one of the sky storms that brought all newcomers. His world had lost a ten-mile wide chunk that now floated high and far away in the Lightlands. Like many, much of the air that came through with the chunk of earth had been condensed and consolidated air crystals that moored the alien land to the sky. Everything else on that new island had also been transformed. This made it typical for Lightlands. Aaron, the blunt fool, hadn’t even believed that magic existed before a chunk of his vast city had gotten pulled into the skies of Talvali. He had claimed that not only did his parent world not possess the mystic force but neither had it possessed gods, dragons, or tahvic.

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