Out of Time the Grand Quest

by Christopher Douglass

“Kimi, My name is Maria. I’m sure you don’t remember me, but thanks to you I was able to be useful. You gave me something, and I’d like to give it back to you.”

  Maria reached out and grabbed a staff that looked ready to fall apart completely. Large gaping holes peppered the length, wood rot that crumbled under her fingers, and an aura of death that warped the very air nearby. Kimi saw the staff, shaking her head vehemently as she tried to get away, but Maria held her firmly.

  “Get it away from me! Don’t let it touch me!”

  “Kimi, please, take it. It will help you remember.”

  “Keep it away! It burns! It’s evil! It hurts!”

  “Kimi, look at me. Look at me!”

  Maria didn’t give Kimi a choice, grabbing the girls face with her free hand so they could lock eyes. “Trust me, please. You will die if you don’t take this staff. I think-- I think you stretched yourself too thin. You somehow gave too much of yourself. I think when Bree knocked you unconscious and broke your connection to your Other power, you locked away all your memories and powers into this staff. That’s why it didn’t disappear. Your desire to help me stay alive found a way to keep the staff from going away. But now that those memories are separated from you, the staff is useless. They have no connection to Kimberly Changa. No connection to your soul.

  “Magic, mediator abilities, Other powers, they are all powered by thoughts. But those thoughts are powered by emotions and desires. The desire to protect fuels the strength of the spell. Love, hate, joy, sadness-- they shape the thoughts that create. Without that connection to those emotions, the staff has no reason to exist as a tool in this world. Yet it is still here because it holds the essence of who you are. Take it back. Give it a reason to exist once more. Give yourself a reason to exist. Trust me.”

  Vletch’s jaw almost dropped to hear Maria of all people showing anyone any kind of kindness. Everyone called her the failure witch, but she had a another nickname as well-- the ice hearted demon. Just what had happened to her inside this rift? She actually sounded like she cared.

  Without taking her eyes off Maria, Kimi reached out for the staff. Her hand halted inches from it, then lunged forward to grasp the rotted wood. Kimi’s eyes widened as the staff reconstructed itself. Once it was whole once more, it vanished in a puff of smoke. Kimi looked around the room at all the expectant faces. Everyone held their breath, some leaning forward in anticipation.

  “I-- I remember. Thank you Maria.”

  With that, Kimberly’s eyes rolled up in her head, her body going limp. Only the support from Maria kept her head from hitting the wooden floor. Bree turned grateful eyes on Maria who eased Kimi to the floor.

  “How did you know that would work?”

  “I didn’t. But when I saw her become afraid of her own Map, it just sort of all made sense. I paid attention in basic magic just like everyone else, and my grandfather went into even more detail on the theories of magic with me. Even if it hadn’t worked, I had to try something.”

  Bree hugged Maria quickly, a few tears leaking out. “Thank you. I’m sure it was hard to give it back, even if the staff was powerless. It can be hard to give up so much potential power. I don’t know if I could have.”

  Maria laughed, snapping the fingers of her right hand. A bright white flame erupted from the tip of her thumb. She snatched the flame up with her left fist, when Maria opened it, a small doll built out of white lightning danced a small jig on her palm. She threw the doll into the air and it erupted into a small storm cloud that rained down tiny pebbles.

  “H-how--”

  Jasmine gasped, unable to finish her sentence.

  “I don’t know really.”

  “When?”

  “Back at the fighting I think. I thought Kimi had lent me her power to take care of those soldiers. After seeing her here though, I realized it was my own power that had manifested. I think-- I think maybe after using the Ageless Sorceress persona for so long, it broke open whatever was blocking my power. Showing my body how to use magic, like a kick start. I never noticed because my body was drained when the persona left me.”

  “I’m happy for you. I really am.”

  Maria and Jasmine shared a private smile, more unsaid words passing between them Vletch didn’t understand. It was Milly who broke the air of good feelings, her eyes reading invisible words on the inside of her second pair of eyelids.

  “Hate to break the joyful reunions, but we aren’t done yet. We still have one more condition to meet. Kimi is out of it for now, so that means one more body to protect. Francis, you said there was a plan, I see no reason we should change that.”

  “Milly’s right. The next meeting will happen in a few minutes. I need to leave and get in position. Milly can come with me, that way, if the condition is completed successfully, we all have a mediator to set things right and take us home. Lets not give this Echo time to hold us here a second longer.”

  Everyone nodded at Frank’s words, resolve in every eye. Bree sat next to Kimi, taking her hand as she did so. Already some of the age wrinkles were vanishing, and the brown speckled skin fading. Only her hair wasn’t growing back. Frank and Milly turned towards the door without a word as Amy slid up next to him to slip her hand into his. Then the room erupted in chaos.

  A pile of bodies burst through the rice paper door, the frame crumbling away. The twang of arrows and the whistling sound they made filled the confusion. He heard a cry of pain then a white shield rose up between the attackers and the group. The shield expanded, throwing them all back outside.

  “That’s about all I have. I’m still pretty tapped.”

  Vletch looked around, seeing an arrow sticking out of Maria’s right shoulder. Bree had one in the upper thigh of her left leg, taken when she had thrown herself across Kimi’s body. Frank and Milly were unharmed, having dived out of the way. Jasmine was already sewing up a scratch in Isabelle’s arm where a projectile had grazed it. It was then he realized Amy was no longer holding his hand. In a panic he glanced in her direction, only to find an arrow sprouting from her abdomen. Buried so far inside, the tip came out her back.

  His vision turned red, his mouth filled with blood from his bitten lip. They had harmed his Amaryllis. They would die for that.

  “Stay out of my way. They are all mine.”

  Vletch stepped towards the gaping maw where he could see twenty men slowly getting to their feet. He unclasped his cloak, letting it fall to the floor behind him.

  “Increase morphine output by one hundred percent. Increase adrenaline output by two hundred percent. Block off pain receptors. Inject Bethanrinol into muscles. Activate fight or flight mode. Switch to fight. Continue injections until threat is eliminated.”

  Vletch pulled his conscious mind back, letting his berserk mode take over completely. Now his body was on autopilot. He could see what he did, but he could not control his actions. The conscious mind was a limiter that controlled human urges. Even when he went into a berserk mode, it wasn’t a true berserk. It wasn’t a mindless fighting mode. He could still plan, still feel pain, still second guess his actions. This was now the true face of his madness. No hesitation, no strategy, no pain, no cares. Just pure rage and primal survival instinct.

  He ran at the first man, his fist catching him right in the throat and killing him instantly. Before the body could fall, he grabbed it by the head, swinging it around and releasing it into the masses. The next man reached for a sword on the ground, Vletch grabbed him first. Taking hold of both arms, he jumped, planting his feet on the mans shoulders while forcing knives to sprout from the soles of his feet. He pulled on the arms while shoving with his legs, ripping the limbs from their sockets. Weapons in hand, he bludgeoned the next four to death with the severed appendages.

  An arrow slammed into his shoulder but that didn’t stop him. Vletch barreled straight for the archer as another arrow grazed his side. Snatching the bow from terrified fingers, Vletch looped it over the head and kicked the archer in the back, the line slic
ing deeply into the throat. A sword opened up his side, causing him to turn his head and lunge. His jaws opened and closed, the sound of breaking bone satisfying to his ears. He ripped away the front section of the forehead, spitting it onto the ground as he ran towards his next victim, using the dead archer as a shield.

  The body blocked two swords, but an arrow passed through the body to slam into his left shoulder. Vletch threw the body to foul the archer, bringing his left fist up into a stomach. The moment he made contact, Vletch twisted the fist feeling ribs shatter and splatter into organs as the metal breastplate dented. The body rose off the ground, flying backwards to lay motionless. He spun with a backhand, a large spike erupting from his flesh. His right hand connected solidly with a nose, the spike crushing cartilage and skewering the brain. One by one he tore down each of the twenty men, the cuts, and stabs, the arrows and the fists not even slowing him down. He was a one man killing machine. He was The Bloody Berserker.

  He stood amid the pile of bodies, the rage still burning strong. As the world flickered and the soldiers started appearing one by one, Vletch killed them once more. Picking them off within seconds before the next could spawn. He would kill and kill and kill until they stopped appearing out of nothingness. He would wipe them out of existence. He would cause history to forget all about them. He would break the world to exact his revenge for what they did to his Amy.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the soldiers stopped appearing. The flickering of the world had continued non-stop, becoming an almost seizure inducing light show before his eyes. Vletch stood amongst the corpses, one piled atop the next, killed in every way imaginable, from decapitation to pummeling to dismemberment. Some killed with their own weapons, but most had been killed by his own bare hands. As his body came down off the rage and the drugs, Vletch let his conscious mind slide back in to take control.

  His breathing was ragged and difficult, he could feel where a lung had been nicked by a stab. Two cracked ribs and multiple arrows that had broken off during the fighting. Four deep gashes and his left hand wouldn’t open all the way, the bones of the knuckles showing through open skin. Not too bad for one of his rare moments as the Bloody Berserker. At least he was able to still walk this time.

  “Damn useless idiots. I give them a simple job to do and they can’t even do it. Kill the traitor and anyone with him. I guess my father was right, if you want a job done, don’t trust an imbecile and do it yourself. I will give you your due though, you were quite impressive. Too bad my father also taught me the value of sending henchmen in to tire out your enemy first.”

  Tato stepped out from the shadows of a building across the street with sword drawn.

  “I knew you were fishy from the start. Figured you had to be working for the enemy. Well, not that I really cared in all honesty. I was planning on killing you anyway. You are too dangerous to the cause, whether you work for us or not. Never trust a gaijin, that’s another thing my father taught me. Be honored to be killed by me. Your blood shall strengthen my blade so that it might continue to kill all who threaten the cause.”

  Tato ran forward, his sword trailing by his side while held in both hands. He swung upwards with a powerful strike, the blade sliced the air so fast, Vletch received a small shallow gash along his neck as he dodged from the wind alone. Tato’s blade work was quick, forcing Vletch onto the defensive. It was all he could do in his current state to keep dodging and not get skewered.

  “That’s it! That’s it! Now you smell more like a warrior! Show me your true kendo! Show me what it is you fight for! Fight as hard as you can and die by my blade! Die so that I might kill your friends and loved ones. Die so that I might live to bring around a glorious revolution for my people!”

  Vletch managed to snag one of his brass knuckles, getting his fist up in time to punch the blade to the side. He swung his broken left hand at Tato’s face, but the man jumped backwards out of the way.

  “Very nice! This wouldn’t be any fun if you didn’t fight back. In honor of your resolve, let me show you something special.”

  Tato pulled his sword sheath out of his waist belt, sliding the blade back inside as he held them both high above his head.

  “Bakengoji school technique, number three. Summer Lotus.”

  He slid his sword from the sheath in a flash of light. Even though he was still two feet away, Vletch felt the blow. The pressure of the wind made him believe he would fold in on himself. An upward strike followed, then a sideways slash. Each one crushing him under the weight, though it never broke skin. The attack did send him to one knee, his lungs working overtime to draw breath.

  “You like it? It doesn’t kill, but it immobilizes the target so they may be cut down at leisure. It is a special battojutsu my grandfather invented and perfected, using the forces of wind to drive the air from the lungs and paralyze the body. Now, die!”

  Tato lunged forward, slicing down towards Vletch’s head in an attempt to cleave him in two. Vletch swung his right hand up, catching the blade on his palm. The pain as it sliced through flesh was nothing compared to the thought of his friends dying. He grinned up at Tato as he closed his fingers around the blade in a death grip.

  “Indeed, it is a good attack. Unfortunately, when your body can pump whatever drugs you wish to negate most attacks, or alter the very density of bone and muscle, it kind of becomes useless. Now, let me repay the favor a bit.”

  Clenching his left fist, Vletch altered the carbon in his body into steal, shooting spikes from each of the broken knuckles as he aimed it at Tato’s chest. Tato managed to get his sheath in place to block with near superhuman speed. That didn’t matter to Vletch, his spikes shattered the hardened wood, the spikes puncturing the mans chest as he let go of his sword and jumped away. Vletch got to his feet, unclenched his right hand, and pulled the sword from his flesh to drop to the ground.

  “Allow me to show you one of my secret techniques. One my teacher taught me when I graduated.”

  Vletch increased the Frantocine and adrenaline coursing through his legs and left arm as he slid his left foot forward. Speed was what he needed, just a burst. The world spun, telling him he was pushing his ability, but that was fine. He was a big man who could afford so much blood loss and use of his ability. Curving his right hand around his left fist, Vletch drew in a deep breath.

  “Forgotten art, number one. Spiral Death.”

  Vletch released all the power in his legs like a raging tornado. He felt the bone of his right foot snap as he shot forward. Tato never had time to react as Vletch’s fist came up into his stomach. Vletch twisted his fist on impact, drilling through bones and organs until his fist came out the mans back in an explosion of blood. Vletch pulled his arm out, and waited. The moment Tato reappeared with a flicker, Vletch slammed the spikes into his head once more. Twice more Tato reappeared out of nothing, and twice more Vletch impaled the spikes into his brain before the man even knew where he was.

  Vletch left the corpses, limping back into the house. He found Jasmine, Isabelle, and Maria all working on his beautiful little flower. She was propped against the wall, but she was alive.

  “Be more careful where you are putting that magic! This hurts like hell you know!”

  “Well I’m sorry Miss priss, next time I save your life, I’ll ask your organs if it is okay to use magic on them first. You think creating barriers around your insides so they don’t spill out is easy? I barely know more than basic magical healing. It isn’t like that was one of my grandfathers strong suits.”

  Vletch let out a relieved laugh. If she was well enough to complain like that, she would make it. Amy narrowed her eyes at him, which made him laugh harder, his side lanced with pain.

  “You overdid it you gorilla. Sit down before you fall down and make a crater.” She shoed the three girls away, pointing them in his direction. “I’ll live now, so go take care of the gentle giant over there who foolishly decided to take on an army.”

  As the three girls obeyed, Milly’s
eyes shuttered, the inner lids coming down to turn slightly milky.

  “Good news. We can leave. Seems the plan worked even without us. So how about saving the healing for later, he’s not going to die just yet with those wounds. It’s almost midnight, and I don’t want to see if Kimi’s predictions about things going south at that time are true or not. She’s been pretty accurate so far it seems, I’m not willing to gamble on this time her being wrong.”

  “Agreed.”

  Without any other hesitation, Milly began to speak. “Jeanne d’arc, nicknamed The Maiden or Orleans, born January 6,1412 and died May 30,1431 at the age of nineteen. Born and raised in Domremy she had no official surname. The surname of D’arc was given later, an approximation of her fathers last name since apostrophes were never used. True name of Jehanne, it was later changed to Jeanne, then Joan, being the only English equivalent of John.

  “Said to receive visions from the Archangel Michael, Jeanne D’arc was instrumental in helping Charles VII recover France from English dominion late in the hundred years war. The uncrowned King, sent Jeanne on a relief mission to Orleans, helping to lift the siege in only nine days. Several more swift victories lead to Charles VII being crowned in Reims.

  “On May 23, 1430, she was captured by the English-Burgundian faction at Compiegne and handed over to the English. Put on trial by Pierre Cauchon, a pro-English Bishop of Beauvais, she was ultimately found guilty. One year later, on May 30, 1431, she was burned at the stake for her crimes. Twenty five years after her execution, Pope Callixtus III headed an inquisition into her case. The charges were proved false, and her innocence confirmed. Jeanne D’arc was then given martyr status by the Pope.”

  Jasmine took over the telling as the world started to fade, wavering all around him.

  “The Heian period, meaning peace, is the last division of Japanese history dating from 794 A.D. to 1185 A.D. This is a period when Buddhism, Taoism, and other Chinese influences were at their height, becoming more readily accepted by the Japanese population. This era is especially noted for its art, poetry, and literature. While the Imperial house of Japan had power on the surface, the real power was held by the Fujiwara clan. A powerful aristocratic family who had intermarried with the imperial family.