by Sain Artwell
Wispfather’s steps slowed. “Trouble. We should—”
“Keep running,” said Alron. Glaive spun in leisure arcs. He slew every carrionspawn on their path, warming his vestiges and muscles for the mass ahead. “Keep running. This is no different from a regular morning stroll.”
Except, this time, Alron had Fei and a decent weapon.
They ran straight into the tide of animated cadavers, which collapsed upon them like a grasping claw would on an ant. Thousands of golden roses opened wide. Countless thorn-coated tendrils whipped at them.
Alron steadied his breath and dipped his thoughts halfway into that elusive, yet ever present, rhythm of battle.
When he jerked into motion, his glaive became a blur, even to Alron’s own eyes. Not that he needed to track it. He felt it all through the shaft, the momentum of his weapon’s spin, the resistance of flesh, bone, and vine, the occasional plate of metal, or vestige. Thick layers of vines snapped and bones cracked before the blade. Alron’s muscles tensed against the resistance of hardened parts and centers of mass. Showers of bloody sap splattered on him at steady intervals. Soulfire coated the inside of the cavernous tunnel he carved by the glaive’s fiery blade, as they ran through the carrion tide.
Downhill became a plateau. Alron’s shoulders warmed from work. A plateau became an incline. His arms and core burned hot. Weed-like taste of the sap seeped onto his tongue and ran down his legs and wings in rivulets almost as soothing as a warm shower.
Alron relaxed. This was his home. This battlefield against the Carrion Scourge—the only battlefield that had made Alron feel fulfilled and whole.
He didn’t realize how he longed for it. How he yearned for an overwhelming force of sheer malevolence, one which he could dispatch without a shiver of remorse. Oh, how he loved this familiar foe, of whom he slew ten with a motion and eleven with the next and twelve with the third.
For a blissful moment, Alron forgot his revenge, Fei’s pain, and the wrongs done against him and his lovers. For a blissful moment, life was simple.
It ended all too soon.
Moonlight broke through the thinning wall of carrion, intensifying until they burst through the tiger’s side. Alron’s illusion of peace was gone. He finished straggling creatures here and there, as the great mass behind turned to give them chase.
Long after slaying the last one to cross their path, Alron’s gaze lingered on the distancing horde behind them.
They followed him, perhaps sensing him as Carrion Scourge’s final foe.
“We are thankful and humbled,” said Wispfather, its gravely voice shaking. “For you overlooking our earlier insults, o’ dragonblessed one.”
Alron grunted dismissively. Their disrespect had not been such a grave transgression to begin with.
“Slow down. We will want them to follow us to our destination,” he said.
Wispfather did as asked.
Fei had gone awfully quiet. She sat in the back, ropes looped around her waist tying her to distressed looking Sofi. Fei’s eyes were closed, her face set and in deep focus. Soulfire burned luminous in her chest, visible through her flesh. Vis infused flesh squirmed beneath her healing skin. Scarred scales flaked off to be replaced by glistening ones. Putrid smelling ichor and blood trickled through her healing scars and orifices, drooling all over both her and Sofi, which explained the latter’s state of discomfort.
Sofi noticed him looking at them, and though she pinched her nose, she gave Alron a closed claw gesture of ‘all good’.
Alron nodded, not adding a word. Fei knew how best her dragon-core worked. He couldn’t do much besides giving her room to focus.
He focused on the briars and the creatures on their path. They rode through the night and the next day, traveling through a cross-section of nature that had sprung up inside Wealdborn’s hind claw.
Thick vines of rock dominated the landscape, springing from the depths of the earth in shades of darkest green and deepest browns. Countless types of briars grew on them and the uneven land. Some climbed hundreds of yards high into a suffocatingly thick jungle filled with strange vine-slinging centipedes. Others opened up plateaus of waist-high thickets grazed by herds of gigantic horned creatures resembling common grub worms. Once, they leapt over a deep cleft, where mounds of animated carrion fought off a towering swarm of thick, flesh-eating beetles with breaths of noxious pollen.
Alron made Wispfather double back so that they could make those carrionspawn follow them too.
As dreary sky darkened the second night of travel, they set camp inside a network of hollows burrowed into the stony branches of a titanic sky-reaching briar. Chips of dark iridescent chitin, wyrmkin bones, and trash littered the round network of tunnels. A brief venture into them revealed a host of empty chambers housing empty pupas as tall as an average wyrmkin man.
As Alron sat guarding the entrance, he heard scraping of feet, and turned.
“It’s me,” Sofi announced softly, buckling up the straps of her tool harness.
Alron put on a brief smile for her. “Good morning.”
“Thank you, and good morning to you as well.”
Alron nodded and looked out again, peering over the edge at the shifting shadows five-hundred feet below. The movement stopped. Alron narrowed his eyes. Did the carrionspawn catch up already?
“How long until Fei wakes up?” Sofi asked.
Not long, he hoped. A glance at Fei’s chest confirmed she’d finished digesting the excess vis. She no longer had scars from her imprisonment. Her figure had filled to that of the elegant beauty of Alron’s memory. Through their bond, he sensed rapid flickers of dream-thought echoing through her mind, draining towards a calm like the last dregs of a flood.
“Not long,” Alron said.
“That’s good.”
“Hm,” Alron agreed.
The shadows below moved again. Seemed they’d caught up.
Sofi peered over the edge cautiously, while holding onto the grooves of the tunnel’s wall. She watched the landscape beneath with a peaceful expression, unable to see the creatures crawling towards them.
She opened her mouth, then closed it, before finally speaking, “Alron. May I be frank?”
“Speak.”
Her lips pursed into a worried line. Her heartbeat quickened. “I’m not certain how to word this, but Mlevanosk’s body is… it’s gone.”
“I suspected as much.” Alron glanced at the compass containing one of Mlevanosk’s vestiges.
“We’ll find a way around it,” he added to reassure Sofi.
Oqhizt had been able to regrow her body from a puddle of blood. There had to be fleshbenders capable of such feats alive, if not in Blackmetal City, then at the Capital of Bones.
Sofi’s voice hardened, losing the nervous uncertainty that had plagued the girl until now. “Combat alone can’t overcome the security measures on her containment. Although, if anyone could un-decapitate someone with pure strength, it would be you.” She glanced at Alron’s arm, continuing, “We have a solution. It’s not ideal, but Mlevanosk and I both agreed to it. We need you to follow our plan, not do as you please. A-apologies if I was too frank. The plan, you see, is…”
There was a pause.
The girl gathered her voice, struggling to maintain its firmness. Alron gave her time, keeping his eye on the shadows creeping up the briar.
“I was born with weak vis,” she digressed. “Mlevanosk helped me alter her animation systems in secret, so I could siphon vis keeping her alive. According to our best fleshbender, and Mlevanosk, it’s made my body a compatible vessel for receiving her brain and vestiges. The procedure itself is not hard—I’m told—or very painful. And, if it’s for Mlevanosk, I’m not afraid of dying. She’s opened my eyes and given me many precious years with good friends, but there’s only so much I can do. She is…”
Alron’s jaw grew tense as he listened.
Sofi’s eyes were glazed over. Her features rested in an expression of blissful devotion.
He considered the girl with fresh eyes, and saw in her an uncomfortable reflection of the past—a youth drunk on heroic sacrifice. It pained him to consider that Mlevanosk would create someone like her. The Mlevanosk he knew never would’ve, but then again, dire circumstances could drive anyone to change their ways.
“Please be understanding…” Sofi scratched her neck, bowing her head in shame. “I know I wasn’t entirely honest when we first met. It’s just that I didn’t want to appear like a crazy doomsday cultist. Also, I might’ve lied to Fei about a few things. Not about my mom, but… my ex is not alive anymore, not the way she used to be. Please don’t tell her.”
“Hm. Why?” Alron asked.
Sofi looked behind them, then leaned over with a hand cupped around her lips. “Because, she is… Ack, I shouldn’t say this of her.”
“Go ahead. I won’t tell her.”
“Because, she is insane,” Sofi whispered.
Alron chuckled wryly. “And I’m not?”
“You’re…” Sofi’s eyes studied his face. “…and please be understanding again, for this may sound rude coming from a young wyrmling like me, but you’re more akin to Mlevanosk. There’s something unbreakable about you. You exist, and it’s the world’s job to adapt to you. For Fei it’s an act.”
“Fret not, no offense taken.”
“Thank you.” A distant smile graced her lips.
“Hm.” Alron’s opinion of the girl leapt by a league. Her words rested in the back of his mind, as he rose and placed a hand on Sofi’s shoulder. “For easing my lover’s suffering, and being there for her when I was not, Sofierov, I shall be eternally thankful. For your sacrifice, I will be twice again in your debt. Fates have favored us for you to cross into our lives. As you say, my might alone may be insufficient to free Mlevanosk, or to conjure miracles. But, if you have any wish that is within my abilities to fulfill, I shall grant it without a question.”
“Really?” She looked surprised, hopeful.
“Mhm.”
“There is one…” She fiddled with her harness straps, chewing her lip as she eyed him strangely. “Until Mlevanosk takes over, could you pretend to be my lover? If it’s too much, then—”
“So be it,” Alron said, voice soft as when he whispered sweet words to Fei. He rubbed Sofi’s neck tenderly, whilst gazing fondly at her. In seconds, her surprise gave way to tears of hopeful disbelief.
“Really? I didn’t think… She won’t be mad?” Sofi asked.
“Though twisted by nightmares of her inner darkness, Fei is fond of you. She’ll not only forgive it, she’ll take joy in it.”
“Then, before she wakes up. Could we…” Sofi drew closer to him, pressing her warm, soft body against him.
Alron saw her desire, and acted on it. He lifted her on her toes, leaned down, and tasted her lips whilst thinking of his beloved Fei. Once he pulled away, strength had left the girl’s legs and she nearly swooned off the cliff. Alron helped her take a seat, before dragonizing his clothes and glaive.
The animated carrion below sprung into full sprint, leaping up the sheer cliff of the trunk.
“Huh…” Sofi blinked with a dazed expression.
“Fei. It’s time to move,” said Alron, reaching out to her through their bond.
Mnnn… Wait… Just a moment… There.
Two brilliant stars burned where her eyes had been. Air waxed around her as mirage fires and soulfire intertwined on her body. Subtle muscles had returned to her formerly gaunt frame as she stood up, straighter than before. And yet, hints of disappointment creased her features, as her gaze lingered on her abdomen.
If we find Oqhizt, she may be able to heal you.
I’m good. Don’t fret! Fei flashed a cheerful smile, turned into flames, and darted to become a cloak of soulfire on his back.
“Persistent little fellows. I wonder if they’ll follow us out of the briar?” Fei mused.
“That’s the plan.” Alron chopped the head of the first animated carrion to climb to the entrance. “Suppose we’ll see if it pays off soon enough. Everyone, follow. I shall clear a path.”
He stepped off the cliff and hovered with fully healed wings, clearing the entrance to allow others safe passage.
Several minutes later, they approached the looming edge of Abyssmaw’s shoulder—a steep cliff of black saltstone atop which loomed the metallic dome of Blackmetal City, which pierced high through the soot-black clouds lingering above the dragongod’s corpse.
“I can take you no further,” said Wispfather, inclining his head to where the two dragongods touched.
Smoke drifted from thousands of tents clustered on a defensible plateau halfway up the cliffs of Abyssmaw’s shoulder. Between the village and Alron stretched a three mile barren stretch of stumps, stomped ground, and shriveled scrub.
“You’ve served us well,” Alron said to the feline. He hopped off with the sack of explosives and slung it over his shoulder. “May your return be swift and safe.”
Wispfather grunted in acknowledgement, and lowered itself on the ground to let Sofi climb off.
“Thank you,” she said, patting its fur. She looked between Fei and Alron. “I’d planned to procure disguises for you when we landed ashore… But I suppose it’s safe enough to buy them here. You can wait some distance from the town.”
“Wait?” Fei asked, engulfing her arm in invisibility. “Nah. You don’t get rid of me that easily, dearie.”
“Eh-heh…” Sofi forced a smile, offering awkward protests to Fei.
“Grovemother’s blessings to your cause,” said Wispfather and ran off.
Silvery gleam twinkled in the corner of Alron’s eye; he recognized them as projectiles. Alron flooded his heartstrings with vis and dashed for Fei and Sofi, dragonizing his cloak into wings to shield them with.
A bullet burrowed through the feline’s skull. Two punched deep into Alron’s flank, cracking scales and bending ribs. The last bullet slammed the side of his skull. His world shook into a blur.
Alron staggered. Warm liquids slid down the side of his face. The only thought in his jolted brain was a realization. One for the brain, one for the heart, and one for the lungs. They were all aimed at me.
Alron… ALRON, GET UP!
Two women shouted. Blurry faces moved. Colors began to focus into objects again.
Alron snapped back into the present and sprung up. He dragonized everything he touched and kicked the glaive into his grip. Two of his ribs were broken, and he could feel pieces of his skull moving. Such minor wounds would heal in hours.
“Alron! Alron, are you okay?” Sofi clung to him, panicking.
He grunted.
“Hug the ground, dearie,” Fei told Sofi.
She’d only begun to wrap them in invisibility when a wyrmkin crashed down from the heavens.
Dust, debris, and stumps flew up. Force of the impact left a crater on the ground.
Feather-like scales of the deepest blue formed a tight armor around the woman, encasing her from clawed limbs to her neck. Two sets of long, narrow wings suited equally for flight and combat spread out from her lower back. Behind her hips trailed two blade-thin tails. Two curled blue horns framed a thick bloom of her short-cropped red hair. Her glare was as icy blue as the ten-foot long cleaver clutched in her right claw. Ground beneath her froze, and the twigs under her clawed feet turned deepest blue as they dragonized.
“Greetings,” said Alron.
The woman’s voice, though silvery and clear, seethed hatred. “Finally, the Stars have graced me an opportunity to extinguish your vile flames. Prepare to die!”
The swiftness of her lunge rivaled Alron’s. Her ice-blue cleaver m
oved in a blur, and the strength of her strike left his glaive and bones ringing. For the first time in a century, Alron wasn’t sure if he had the upper hand.
Chapter 10 - Lost Blood
Alron retreated. Ground he’d stood on was torn apart. The woman’s two tails and four razor-edged wings chased him, slashing and stabbing in a blinding dance of multi-directional strikes. Each blow struck sparks on Alron’s defensively cupped wings. The real danger, however, was not the storm of deadly limbs, but her longcleaver.
When Alron parried it with his glaive, his fingers numbed with a deadly chill. Where the longcleaver so much as grazed the ground, a flash of raw freezing dragonfire erupted from its blade. The blasts fanned out some two-hundred feet in length. Earth cracked with shards of ice, crystalline breath of hoar-frost coated the withered shrubbery, and the air fogged. Alron doubted he could have shrugged off such a blow without Fei on his shoulders.
Sofi! His heart thumped a quicker beat.
She’s running away. I left a veil on her, Fei thought back to him. But it won’t last. We need to keep their focus on us.
Focusing on defence, Alron skipped backwards on his wings and allowed himself to be pressed back. The woman chased him with a furious assault of strikes.
Ground was upturned on their path, tree stumps shredded, and slices of the landscape frozen by the longcleaver’s icy breath. The reach advantage of Alron’s glaive gave him some room to maneuver around her cuts, avoiding the brunt of the attacks. Glancing blows of ice washed over him, only nipping at him as Fei’s soulfire devoured the vis within the opposing dragonfire.
During those glancing blows, Alron spotted the face of a man inside the ice-blue longcleaver.
A morphcore awakened master. He must have vestiges of Iceweaver’s blood, breath, bones, and probably more, Fei thought.
They’re both from Iceweaver, he replied. Alron recognized the meticulous harmony in the chaos of the woman’s bladed limbs and swirling blade. Her secondary limbs shielded her arms to give room to deliver heavier blows with her main weapon. This pattern was the Closing Maw Form, sixth of the Seven Forms taught to the Knights of Myrwing.