by TJ Reynolds
Hastings cried out, his voice breaking the stillness and tension in the air like a thousand shards of ice. “Greetings, Earth Core!” the commander said. “I can’t wait to dine in your core room tonight! I’m sure you’ve made yourself quite comfortable.”
Ban could have replied with any number of minion voices, but he didn’t want to give this man the impression that Ban respected him. Such a consolation would sully my reputation, Ban thought bitterly.
Like the conversation involved them both, Hastings continued. “I have a deal for you. If you let down your bridge and let me enter, I won’t kill your friends. What do you say?”
The howling wind and a single cawing crow answered him.
“Fine. Then we will take this keep for Brintosh and the king in Creshon!”
The troops behind him bellowed their enthusiasm. The resounding boom of their unified voices made Ban grateful that his minions could not think for themselves. They wouldn’t have felt the spike of terror lancing their hearts like Ban had.
They were as strong and reliable as ever.
The battle began shortly after, Hastings standing by while a Lieutenant ordered the first platoon of men to take the bridge.
The Brintoshi formed up with ranks of five soldiers across, and when given the command, started to march in an orderly fashion.
Ban held his archers back, knowing full well the shield wall would deflect any shots. No matter how improved his bows were, the slime nymphs couldn’t penetrate such thick steel. Unimpeded, the soldiers made it halfway across the bridge.
The leading soldiers glanced from side to side, exchanging worried glances with their fellows. Surely, they were wondering when the resistance was coming.
Originally, Ban thought firing every arrow and throwing every stone would be the way to go. It was certainly expected.
Then he recalled how men liked to march, how the soldiers had so naturally formed dense rows, and were happy to hold that formation until told otherwise. Onward they trudged, their footfalls echoing madly in the chasm below.
They marched till the archers could reasonably aim over or around the shields, but still, he held them back.
Just short of ten feet from the wide platform before the gate, the soldiers sealed their own fate. With little more than a faint snap, the floor trap activated. Six rows, and part of a seventh, cried out as the stone beneath their feet fell away.
The soldiers screamed as they tumbled into the chasm, each hoarse cry for mercy like music to Ban’s ears.
The crunch and splat of their landing was just as pleasant.
Thirty-two had fallen.
Thirty-two of Brintosh’s more powerful soldiers were dead, and all due to a single trap.
Silence followed, and for a moment, Ban hoped Hastings might curse or shout at his Lieutenant.
Instead, the man laughed.
Cold and melodic, the sound was terrifying.
After, he merely ordered the next contingent of soldiers across.
When considering his bridge, Ban thought it might be clever to include more than one floor trap. If he were clever enough, he might deposit a hundred of the bastards into his chasm. But doing so risked forcing the soldiers to climb down by more conventional means.
He had no doubts the soldiers had rope with them. Surely, he could send airborne minions to harry their descent, but Ban wanted to be sure they entered his keep.
In there, he had more control.
The second platoon of men met up with the three who’d survived the fall. Ban felt a pang of remorse at watching those who’d so narrowly avoided death march forward into the teeth of his next trap.
With the floor trap down, the bridge remained intact due to the three-foot strips of bridge to either side. It would make the soldiers proceed in two single-file lines after that point.
As the soldiers inched across, Ban whispered in his archers’ ears.
At 5 MCP per archer, Ban had thought to include only two, maybe four. But then he realized he could have the archers retreat as soon as the bridge was in danger of falling. So, naturally, he’d summoned eight.
40 MCP of nymph archers released their first volley with a twang.
The two lead soldiers reacted by hunkering behind their shields. One kept his footing, deflecting the arrows easily.
The other, stirred by nerves perhaps, slipped and spun down to his death.
In this fashion, the taking of the bridge began in earnest. Emboldened by the success of the first few soldiers, those that followed sped up, crossing the danger point more quickly.
Once on the other side, the troops formed up again. They linked their shields together, five across, and waited until their unit was ready to proceed.
That was when the shield boar rushed in.
Activating Wind Bash, the boar careened into the shield wall, obliterating the soldiers’ defense. One of the men used a skill, his shield expanding with the green glow of Earth ether. He alone withstood the storm the boar unleashed.
Wanting to conserve MCP, and knowing the pigs were a one-off weapon, only three of the boar crashed into the line of soldiers.
It was enough to push them back, knocking those behind them off balance as well.
Another eight men fell to their doom.
After the boar had played their cards, Ban held back his final two nasty surprises for when even more of the Brintoshi were in place.
The platform before the gate spanned a little over thirty feet wide and twenty feet deep. It dove in under the roof’s overhang, giving the soldiers a place to rest before entering the keep itself.
Considering the barrage of arrows his nymph minions were firing, the soldiers didn’t exactly relax, but using their shields had effectively made the platform safe.
Then the first blast of Fire ether announced the soldiers’ first attempt to open the gates.
Two more blasts followed, and though more soldiers trickled in by the second, Ban felt he couldn’t wait any longer.
He ordered the next trap to be sprung.
The deft hands of a slippery nymph tugged on a rope just inside the gate room. The trap door above the platform opened. With a grinding roar, over a thousand pounds of stone poured out.
Some of the soldiers died instantly, their helms caving in or necks snapping like twigs.
Others screamed as their collarbones splintered or their legs broke beneath them.
Most, however, simply lost their footing, pushed back by the outward surge of bodies. These landed on their backsides, sprawling out onto the platform. A dozen more were shoved off completely.
Like those before them, the soldiers fell and died in short order.
Before the soldiers could recover, Ban ordered a half dozen Storm Spear minions to take action. He’d worked with the mindless creatures until each could dependably seek targets. When he’d first started, most would sink the spears of their proboscis in a shield or breastplate.
Such targets were too stout to be penetrated.
The six darting minions now sought eyes, necks, or the joints at the back of the knees.
One of the minions was struck from the air, its wings and body shattering under the well-timed blow from a Brintoshi swordsman.
The other five though, each felled a soldier of their own.
These joined their brethren in the chasm below.
As this final stage of his bridge defense played out, Ban called a retreat. The nymph archers pulled back to find their positions along the first floor gauntlet. They would have another chance at action, but wasting their lives now would be pointless.
Recovering quickly, the Brintoshi found their feet and resumed hammering away at the gate.
Five more blasts of Fire ether and the gates broke.
The soldiers flooded inside, and Ban felt himself caught between opposing emotions.
He feared the possibility of failing his friends, but he anticipated and invited the chance to prove his worth. Either way, a great deal more deaths would punctuate his efforts.
>
42
Circle of Fangs
Kai
Ever since Kai had killed the last dalgard minion and his core reached capacity, his life had been nothing but pain.
At first, it felt like any other time his core filled.
A pressure behind his chest bone, urgent but not terrible, let him know the process of accumulating Progression was over. Covered in blood and sweat, Kai set down his glaive and cleaned up.
By the time he’d refreshed his body and found a place to ascend, that sensation had doubled.
Pushing down into his hips and shooting down his legs, the pressure was urgent enough that Kai broke out into a sweat and gritted his teeth. He’d spoken with Ban. Rhona had finished her Progression more quickly, and sat even now in a temporary room Ban had made for her in the corner of the core room.
He wished he could speak to her, but their timeline hadn’t allowed any such consolations.
So, naturally, he followed in the monk’s footsteps.
Now sitting cross-legged in a room of his own, Kai had begun the arduous process of wrestling with his mind and core.
That had been hours ago.
Time and again, Kai assembled the five pillars of Crystal Mind. He invoked every trick or perspective Rhona had shared with him, and each time it failed. The technique wasn’t very complex, but the pattern he’d seen when in the stream just wouldn’t emerge fully.
Always part of the pattern would show, then it shifted and blurred away.
Once, he’d seen nearly all of it. Fleeting but beautiful, Kai’s Mandala seemed more complex and angular than what he’d been expecting. Rhona mentioned that many Mandalas looked like flowers or gemstones, most often five-sided like the crystal pillar itself.
Kai suspected his would have more than five sides, and the design didn’t have the soft and irregular edges of an organic shape like a flower.
The raging current of golden ether churned madly within him.
Splashing over the confines of his core, Kai felt like his body was burning up inside.
For too long, the uncontained ether raged through his veins, and it had taken a toll on the young dragon.
After a while, he slumped against the stone wall behind him, grateful for the cold of the material. That only soothed him for a while though. Then he lay down entirely, still trying to meditate and focus, but unable to sit up as his body was throbbing with unchecked pain.
Unlike the searing, mind-splitting agony of ascension, this was a more corporeal affliction.
It’s like every fiber of my body, each strand of muscle or inch of bone, is steeping in boiling water, he thought desperately. So much… pain.
Grinding his teeth, Kai became distantly aware of Ban’s voice. Kai! Kai, are you well? Please, answer me.
Kai rolled to one side and emptied his stomach. Collapsing on his back again, cold sweat burning on his skin, he replied as best he could. I’m not okay. Ban… Kai tried then grunted as a spear of pain shot through his chest.
Eyes still closed, Kai gaped in horror at what appeared to be a tiny crack in the side of his core. The current of ether continued to cycle, but the crack caused a multitude of energy motes to spill into his body at a faster rate.
I’m not… Ban, I think I’m in trouble. Help… ask Rhona, can you?
His Earth Core’s voice was delayed in answering. When it came, Ban’s words were rushed. Kai, I’m so sorry. You need to ascend now! Hastings is here. I’m doing my best to stop him. But Rhona will need your help I fear.
I can’t, Ban! Kai called out, thrashing on the floor. His head spun, and for a moment, it felt like he was falling. Ban, I think I’m—
Another bout of vomiting cut the thought off, and for some reason, Kai couldn’t hear Ban again after that. He called, or thought he called, several more times. Nothing answered him. Nothing but a shifting blackness all around. Nothing but the scorching, golden fire within.
When the second crack in his core shook him, Kai lacked the strength to scream or even moan.
He just lay there slowly fading.
The sweat on his body condensed around him, forming a wide pool of liquid.
His mind spun, incoherent for the pain, only wishing for an end.
Time and again, his thoughts returned to the puddle of his own sweat. It seemed to form a bridge connecting him to the very stones of Ban’s keep. It clung to him, refusing to let go, like a glue of some kind or a…
No, it isn’t glue, he thought. It is only water.
Water.
Kai felt a bead of his focus return, and he remembered the moment of clarity he’d experienced in the frigid waters. Rhona standing nearby and Ban drifting about his consciousness, Kai had been wrapped in water’s embrace.
Cold but somehow loving or benign.
How can water be loving, he asked himself in delirium.
Then he answered the question himself. Briga. It wasn’t water, it was the goddess’ element! It was she who guided me time and again. Briga!
Early in his attempt to ascend, Kai had tried speaking directly to the goddess. She’d come to him before, so why wouldn’t she now? He’d tried dozens of different ways, and eventually, had given up hope.
But now, the deity answered him. I am here, Kai. You do not have much time left. You must understand your Mandala and ascend, child. Or you’ll be dead in less than an hour. Focus, Kai. Find the clarity of the waters you swim in.
Each word the goddess spoke illuminated the darkness that threatened to suffocate Kai. A deep blue aura surrounded him, and he found he was in a cave of some sort. There, before him, was the serene-faced woman who’d met him time and again.
Not a woman. A goddess, he reminded himself. Briga, help me. How can I learn my Mandala? Too complex. Pattern always fading.
Quiet your mind, Briga said. Remember the moment of clarity. Crystal Mind is a valuable technique, but it was my waters and the stars above that guided you.
Kai remembered now.
The goddess was right. He’d been struggling with Crystal Mind all night. It was only when he’d surrendered to the cold and the water and the endless blaze of stars that he’d had his revelation.
Breathing deeply, Kai ignored the twisting pain in his core, the numbness in his limbs.
Kai reached out with his mind and felt every drop of water around him.
It was everywhere!
The sweat on and under his body. Condensation clinging to the walls of the tower. Moisture, like a silver mist, hanging in the air.
More water fell down from the chasm, clouding the sky with mist. It plunged into the deep pool, and there, Kai immersed himself entirely.
Kai became the water around the Sunken Keep.
He felt its coolness relieve his aches and pains. It sapped the excess heat from his body, and soon, his convulsing muscles ceased spasming.
Glancing at his core again, Kai saw the outline of his Mandala design. Briga, I think I see it! It’s beautiful, but… Kai paused, unable to think of what bothered him. Then he remembered. The pattern he could make out had at least seven sides. It didn’t match up to what Rhona had told him to expect.
Why isn’t my Mandala like Rhona’s? It is too complex, Briga. What do I do?
A chiming laughter echoed in his thoughts, like a light rain or a trickling waterfall. Kai, have I not told you? Have you not already learned the power you’ve been born to? You are the ninth, Kai. You are the Fundamental Dragon. Your Mandala will have no less than nine sides.
The revelation was so obvious but profound it struck Kai like a lightning bolt.
Immediately, he saw the nine, angular aspects of his Mandala. The sacred design remained fuzzy and unfocused in the center, but he could see each of the nine sides. They looked like the oiled tips of swords, or spears rather.
Briga’s embrace washed over him once more, and her sweet voice spoke. The power you seek is within your grasp. I can give you no more. Goodbye, Kai Unterinan. I will come to you when you seek Viridian.
Viridian? Kai thought hopefully. Such an improvement would be more than welcome, and if he were being honest, was a level of ascension he never thought himself capable of attaining.
Shoving the distraction aside, Kai reminded himself what he was doing.
Emerald, you fool. This is your Emerald ascension, and if you don’t get to it, your core will open up like a nine-sided flower.
No, not a flower, he realized, more of the pattern becoming clear. More like nine sharp fangs spinning around like a terrible, circular blade.
His Mandala emerged completely then.
It was as beautiful as he’d imagined. It was also somehow terrifying.
This was the Mandala of a raging beast, not a farmer from Brintosh.
Slowly, Kai urged his flooded core to take on the pattern’s shape.
A few motes at a time at first soon became a flood. The Mandala pulled greedily from his fractured core. His soul wanted to sigh in relief as the pressure lifted. The shooting pains retreated as well, and finally, without any remorse or reluctance, Kai released his old core.
That was no longer needed.
It buckled and collapsed in on itself before getting pulled into his ravenous Mandala.
Then it finished.
Burning bright golden, his nine-sided Mandala gleamed in his chest. The ether sped up along its course, and the tell-tale green of Emerald took root.
When his Mandala gleamed the vibrant green of new grass, the pain of ascension followed.
Oddly, the searing pain made Kai laugh. It was all-encompassing and dreadful, but when compared to the brokenness he felt when his core had cracked, the sensation was welcome.
Kai surrendered gratefully.
The Emerald Dream came to Kai and he wrapped it about his shoulders like a blessed mantle.
His vision took him into the skies. Soaring, wind buffeting every inch of his being, Kai flew over Anvar.
It could have been Brintosh or Hintar. Perhaps the sloping mountains below were in Kaltan for all Kai knew. Such distinctions didn’t matter though.
There was land.
There was water.
There was sky.
The last of these was Kai’s home. More like a mantle, Kai thought. A mantle that clothes me and hides me when I need it most.