#feeblemind

Their minds are their greatest strength, but what happens when that’s stripped away? This week, we’re looking for Shadowgast fics that feature the Feeblemind Spell! Get ready for some delicious hurt/comfort!

Now, it’s always difficult to know for sure if every feeblemind fic tagged it as such, but checking the tag is always a good first start! 

This one’s a doozy. Also, I took a few liberties with the Trent inclusion in this prompt because he’s the worst, so I hope you’re okay with that!

Trent Ikithon is really his own warning. Additional warning for discussion of Caleb’s backstory. 

Summary: Caleb is hit with a feeblemind spell in a battle alongside the Nein. After they free him from his state, the Nein learn that their wizard is more familiar with that sort of state than anyone should be. 

From this prompt list

No one in the Mighty Nein saw it happen. Through the haze of combat and the loud exchange of violent spells, none of them saw the bolt streak out and strike Caleb, causing him to shrink into himself, his intricate incantations reduced to incoherent mumbling. 

From the sky, Yasha saw him hit the ground, his trembling form enough to draw her attention away from the combat. She landed next to him in an instant, taking in his near catatonic form with her wings extended to shield him from the combat. 

“Jester! Caduceus!” She called from over her shoulder, “Over here!” As the others brought the creature to its knees, the clerics quickly ran toward the pair. The familiar loud thwack of Beau’s staff and the subsequent thud of the monster’s body toward the ground were the only indications that the fight had been won. 

The instant the field fell still, the monstrosity they’d been fighting collapsing into a lifeless heap, everyone’s attention turned to their wizard. 

“Caleb, can you hear me?” Caduceus’ voice was soft and concerned as he knelt next to him. He didn’t expect Caleb to violently flinch backwards at his approach. 

Before he could attempt to remedy his apparent misstep, Caleb turned back toward him, leaning his head on his shoulder and curling closer to the familiar man. 

AO3 Link for those who wish to leave kudos and comments! I would greatly appreciate comments.

“A Terrible Thing To Waste”, 800 words.

Hope it’s to your liking!

—————

Beau’s head hurts. It feels like it’s been aching for forever, her thoughts overwhelmed by a neverending wave of pain.

Bit by bit, she slowly remembers how it happened.

It had been just a routine investigation at an archaeological site, the initiates under her command working hard to record their findings so that they could be sent back to the library in Rexxentrum.

And then, it happened. An unexpected explosion of arcane force. The resulting shockwave passed through everyone present.

Thankfully, a majority of the monks and wizards managed to shrug off its effects.

Beau, however, wasn’t so fortunate as her guard was down.

All at once, the shockwave overwhelmed all of her senses.

Her thoughts were rapidly spiraling and… fading, like parchment quickly burning away.

Her awareness of the world around her was also fading, as if being enveloped in a thick, impermeable fog.

In her last moments of cognitive thinking, she knew what was happening.

Somehow, it was a trap left behind from the Age of Arcanum. A trap designed to cripple unlucky interlopers through stripping them of their mental faculties.

Or in layman’s terms, it was a mass casting of Feeblemind.

After that, her mind had shattered completely.

And the next thing she knew, she was just acting on feral instinct, lashing out at anyone that got too close. That is, until she was subdued by her people.

And now she’s finally waking up.

“Fuck…” Beau says in a raspy voice, having been unable to speak for… however long it had been since the trap had triggered.

She squints her eyes, her thoughts just barely stitching themselves back together. She’s back in the library in Rexxentrum. Did the archivists on site manage to bring her back here?

How many made it back? And how many were lost?

“Ow!” Beau winces as she rubs her temple. Too much thinking. It hurts to think right now. She even notices that her diadem had been removed, the circlet on a nearby table.

“Ah, you’re finally awake…”

Beau turns her head — ow, too quick, my head’s about to explode — and sees Yudala Fon approaching her. The look of genuine concern is unmistakable on their face.

“High… Curator…” Beau mutters as she tries to sit up. Her head is pounding heavily, protesting the movement.

“Easy, Beauregard. You’re only just managing to recover,” Yudala chides her gently. They help Beau get into a sitting position, a lot more slowly this time. Beau tries to steady her breathing amidst the pain in her head.

“Head… hurts…”

Yudala nods. “Must still be feeling the residual psychic damage from that trap. Here.”

The high curator’s hand lights up and they touch Beau’s temples, casting Cure Wounds as a means of dulling the pain. It does help, somewhat.

Beau exhales slowly. “Thanks.”

The two just remain where they are, taking their time until the fog in Beau’s mind lifts more and more. After several moments, Beau allows herself to open her eyes. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

“I feel much better now…”

“Good.” Yudala helps Beau out of her sickbed and onto her feet. “You’re fortunate to not have had any lasting damage. Some of the others weren’t so lucky. Out of the eleven that went with you, five of them were completely overtaken by the trap and were lost. Those that remained got you back here for treatment.”

“And how long ago was…?” Beau asks hesitantly, not looking forward to knowing how long she was out.

“You were brought back on the same day, then you were laid out for another two even after the Feeblemind effect was lifted.”

Beau frowns, her brow furrowing just as deeply. “And Yasha? Have you notified her?”

Yudala nods. “Yes. Your wife and family have been informed. They should be on their way to come pick you up as we speak.”

A clear and concise answer. Beau can appreciate that. It sucks that she lost three whole days to a fucking wizard trap, and that five of her people were lost to it, but overall it could have been way worse.

“And our findings? Did you get a hold of them?”

“Yes. But we can discuss that later,” Yudala says matter-of-factly. “You just need to go home and get some rest. Please.”

Beau sighs melodramatically, but she’s not about to object. After all, she left Yasha, Clara, TJ, and the kids alone for three days. Far too long.

“No argument here. If I’m not home for a day longer, Yasha won’t let me live it down.”

A moment of silence follows before the expositor and high curator end up chuckling.

Again, all things considered, it could’ve been way worse.

And normally, Beau would be reluctant to ask for time off, being the workaholic she is.