Second Skin Omnibus

by M Damon Baker

  Bane set himself down nearby, and I rushed towards him, dismissing my Shadow Armor before throwing myself against his broad neck and gripping his scales tightly. He’d saved us, all of us—of that I had no doubt, but at that moment my only concern was Bane’s well-being.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Unable to keep my sense of doubt from creeping into the words as I sent them to him.

  I am... better, Sintári, he replied, but the half-full bar hovering above his head told me a different story.

  Despite how courageously my people had fought, Bane was our best and probably only hope of surviving when the beastkin renewed their attack. Even after his fires had burned through their ranks, we were simply too outnumbered for us to have any realistic chance of surviving without him. So I called back towards our lines, summoning our healers to restore Bane to his full health—or at least as close to it as they could get before the beastkin arrived.

  Our enemies proved to be less than accommodating, and before long, the healers were forced to retreat within the safety of our tightly packed lines. Bane launched himself into the dark nighttime sky, but his vitality was still far from full. I could only hope that his depleted health was enough to keep him safe; it probably would be... if there weren’t another undead dragon or similar abomination waiting to ambush him again.

  That had likely been the Mistress of Shadows’ plan all along; using the skeletal dragon to take Bane out before her beastkin army arrived to destroy us. It might have worked—it probably would have worked, if I hadn’t been able to cripple the monster, shifting the tide of that fight in Bane’s favor. But with him now aiding us, my Army just might prevail against the overwhelming number of beastkin that were rapidly charging towards us.

  Bane’s fires still burned brightly, illuminating the destruction that surrounded us with an eerie, crimson glow while the horde of abominations surged towards us, flowing around the edges of the flames. The red tint reminded me to invoke my Shadow Armor again, and I brought forth its vaporous tendrils, easily rekindling my rage when I glanced at the bodies of so many of our fallen still laying across the battlefield. I quickly retook my place, standing shoulder to shoulder between Ella and Insleí, with Líann and Venna close behind. Although my Tári were all accounted for, I hadn’t seen Stel, Broda, or Khorim since the fighting had begun, and I could only hope that they’d survived the desperate struggle.

  In the brief moment before the beastkin arrived, I quickly looked over the way Evans had reorganized our forces. With the beastkin now assaulting us from two directions, he’d pulled back slightly, creating a V-shaped formation that would shield our siege weapons from attack… hopefully.

  Our enemies seemed undeterred by the losses they’d suffered, rushing through the hail of arrows and magic we launched before slamming into our reformed lines. Screams of outrage and agony erupted from both sides as bodies fell to the ground by the dozens and then hundreds. My blades tore through the beastkin in front of me while the shifting tendrils of the Shadow Armor’s projections lashed out at anything within their reach, defending not only me but Insleí and Ella as well.

  Suddenly, the night exploded in a brilliant flash of light when Bane’s crimson flames erupted, burning through the beastkin horde once again. His attack broke their relentless charge, and I was able to watch him as he circled around for a second pass. The Mistress of Shadows had obviously felt supremely confident in her undead dragon’s ability to remove Bane from the battlefield because the beastkin seemed to lack any means to shield themselves from his assault. Bane’s next gout of flames roasted hundreds more of the foul abominations, and our archers and Evokers mercilessly eliminated the few left alive within their range.

  The beastkin continued coming at us for hours—some of them pushed forward by the inexorable surge of those that followed behind—only to be incinerated in one of Bane’s raging infernos, or brought down beneath a hail of arrows, magic, or the slashing strikes of our weapons. Under their constant assault, I had no time to cast any Spells and didn’t dare spend my precious Endurance invoking one of my Abilities. I simply hacked and slashed at any beastkin that managed to get past the dark projections of my Shadow Armor, cutting them down mercilessly with my blades.

  A thrust from Ella’s spear caught one of the charging beastkin in the throat, and a font of thick, dark blood gushed from the gaping wound as the edge of her weapon sliced through his neck, nearly decapitating him. To my right, Insleí’s black blades cut down the pair of foes in front of her, disemboweling each of them and spilling their insides onto the ground.

  We slaughtered them by the thousands; bodies littered the ground around us, covering the field with the contorted forms of their corpses. But in the haze of my green-tinted vision, I also saw the outlines of our fallen scattered among the innumerable dead. With the sound of clashing metal and the screams of pain rising along the battlefront from both sides echoing in my ears, the sight of so many of my people lying dead on the cold ground stoked my fury to an almost fever pitch. Anger surged through my veins, my vision flaring into a deeper shade of deadly green light, and I struck out at the beastkin around me, slicing an arc of destruction through the press of bodies that had been advancing towards me, yet the beastkin still kept coming. Even though I slaughtered them with abandon, the beastkin continued their attack, and I began to wonder if there was any way we could win this fight.

  In desperation, I tried to summon the blackness that had claimed me in Kiva. With its incredible power, I’d be able to sweep away the beastkin that were claiming far too many of my soldiers’ lives. But its fury eluded me, and I was unable to bring it forth. The depths of that darkness simply weren’t something I could summon; they would only come forth on their own—after their price had been paid.

  As the battle went on, the thin, wispy filaments that had originally comprised my Shadow Armor and surrounded the edges of the Essence Blade transformed into thick, black bands of utter darkness. Although a portion of the fury that powered my shadows came from the anger I felt towards our beastkin attackers, the greater part of my rage was generated by my overwhelming need to protect the people I cared about. The heart of my inner darkness had never been a thing of evil, it was and always had been the means I used to protect the innocent and fight for those I loved. It was only that deep well of shadows inside me that sustained me through the arduous fight; whenever my Endurance flagged, I was able to rely on the protection of the lashing tendrils of my Shadow Armor to shield me while I recovered.

  Eventually, when the sky began to brighten with the first rays of dawn, the coming light illuminated the beastkin horde—or at least what little was left of it. For the first time, I saw an end to their numbers when the last of them appeared in the dim light of the pale morning. Despite the inescapable doom that awaited them, the beastkin made one final charge, only to be engulfed within the intense heat of Bane’s flames. The few remaining stragglers quickly succumbed when we responded with our own onslaught, finally bringing our desperate struggle to an end.

  When the last beastkin fell, all that was left around us was a scene of absolute horror. Bodies lay strewn across the battlefield; friend and foe piled atop one another wherever they’d happened to have fallen. Among the countless beastkin corpses, a glint of armor or the trace of a colored cape stood out here and there, showing me where one of our own had lost their struggle against our enemy.

  We’d fought tirelessly throughout most of the night, but as soon as it was clear that the fighting was over, the effects of the adrenaline that had kept so many of us on our feet quickly wore off. I joined many of the soldiers that simply collapsed wherever they might have been, heedless of whatever might befoul the earth beneath them—not that it mattered; we were already covered with more of the same.

  Insleí crumpled to the ground behind me, leaning her back against mine as we supported each other in our utter exhaustion. Ella tried to stand over us protectively, but I took her hand and pulled her down to rest with us as well. The
three of us were soon joined by Líann, who’d barely managed to make her way to us before collapsing in a heap. Líann rested her head on my shoulder, and I held Insleí’s hand in one of mine, and Ella’s in the other, caring nothing for what anyone might think of it.

  Despite her absence, I knew Venna was safe—I would have felt it, had things been otherwise. I was certain that she was seeing to our wounded, tending to those who needed her far more than I did at that moment.

  I must have drifted off into unconsciousness, because the next thing I knew, I woke up inside my tent. Well, at least it was a tent—mine had been destroyed during Bane’s struggle with the undead dragon. Líann was sleeping beside me, and although I felt much better, I knew that was a function of my Deathless status, so I let her continue to rest as I got up and stepped outside.

  The camp appeared almost normal; obviously, a great deal of work had been done while I’d been… indisposed. As soon as I emerged, Insleí and a fairly large contingent of guards surrounded me, triggering a sense of unease within me as they did.

  “Is there something I should know about?” I asked Insleí as I cast around, looking for any signs of a threat.

  “Nothing specific, no,” she replied flatly. “But considering what has happened, I’m not taking any chances.”

  “How long was I out?” I followed up quickly, afraid to hear the answer. If it had been too long, I would have missed the opportunity to raise any of our fallen with Death’s Embrace.

  “The Curates have already seen to everyone, Empress,” Insleí read my concerns quite clearly. “Those who could be brought back have been, and our dead have been tended to.”

  “I should have done my part Ins… Saibra,” I faltered over her name when I replied. I’d come to honestly think of her as her true self, and maintaining the fiction was becoming increasingly difficult.

  “No. Not this time,” she held firm. “Your first responsibility is to the living, and they’ll need you at your best if we’re attacked again.”

  “How many did we lose?” I exhaled a deep breath as I gave up arguing with her.

  Uncharacteristically, Insleí averted her gaze when she responded.

  “Over three thousand,” she whispered the soul-crushing number while staring off into the distance.

  Considering how long the fighting had raged and the ferocity of the beastkin attacks, I should have been better prepared for what she told me. Despite the intensity of the battle, things had gone well in my own little corner of the fighting, and I guess that part of me assumed the rest of my Army had faired just as well. But I’d not only fought beside both Ella and Insleí but also within the protective embrace of my Shadow Armor as well. Very little could pass through the formidable layers that had shielded me from harm; unfortunately, that sort of protection hadn’t extended to the rest of my soldiers.

  “Any… anyone I know?” I hesitated, overwhelmed when I suddenly realized that the obscene figure she’d quoted was after resurrections had been attempted on any who’d had fallen; the real number of our losses had likely been almost catastrophic.

  “A few,” Insleí replied, maintaining her subdued tone. “Most were regular soldiers, but several members of the Imperial Guard were also lost. Breckh, Sida, Lonnah, and Chare didn’t survive.”

  As members of my personal guard, I knew all of them well. Each one had served with distinction, and I’d counted them as friends. As shocking as it had been to hear Insleí relay the horrific total only a moment before, having it personified with the names of those I’d known made it all the more jarring, bringing a new level of depth to the guilt I felt at having presided over such a slaughter. In my distracted state, I didn’t notice when she stepped closer, but I felt Insleí’s hand when it came to rest on my shoulder before she whispered in my ear.

  “You did all you could,” she tried to comfort me with her soft words.

  Like her gentle tone, the expression of compassion and understanding was also out of character for Insleí, but she’d obviously recognized my distress and sought to offer me the reassurance that I needed. But Insleí’s gesture provided me with far more than just the confidence she’d intended to convey. I felt my sense of resolve suddenly harden, crystalizing with a firmness that I’d never experienced before, and I took Insleí’s hand from my shoulder and held onto it as I began walking towards the center of our camp.

  “Take me to Venna,” I gripped Insleí tightly as we made our way past the first few tents. “I’m sure there’s a great deal more I need to hear.”

  It only took Insleí a moment to recover from her surprise, but she didn’t try to pull away from me as she led the way to where our command post had been reestablished. While the rest of my guards waited outside, I strode inside, still grasping Insleí’s hand in mine when we entered the large tent. Evans was busy looking over a map of the Dark Lands, alongside Khorim, Broda, and Stel, while several officers tended to other duties within the confines of the tent’s canvas walls.

  “What’s our situation, First Marshal?” I asked, finally releasing Insleí from my grip when I spoke to him.

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out, Empress,” Evans replied, gesturing to the map as he spoke.

  “I’ve got my scouts searching for any other threats, but so far they haven’t found anything,” Khorim added.

  “It would be helpful, Dreya, if Bane could also have a look around… once he’s fully recovered, that is,” Stel chimed in.

  “I appreciate that, but after what he’s been through, I’m not about to rush his recovery,” I replied to Stel’s request.

  Stel simply nodded his understanding before Evans continued again.

  “We’ve fortified this position and will hold here until we have more information. Any other course of action might just lead us into another trap.”

  Obviously, the First Marshal had reached the same conclusion as I had: the Mistress of Shadows had drawn us in, only to close the noose around our necks once she’d had us right where she wanted. Perhaps we’d managed to foil her plans, but that remained to be seen. Still, until we were sure of our situation, the First Marshal was correct—any move we made might very well be our last. Especially after the horrific losses we’d suffered.

  “You should know that only two things prevented us from being completely wiped out,” Evans seemed to read my mood perfectly. “Bane, of course, and you.”

  While I knew well-enough the pivotal role Bane had played, I was surprised to hear Evans single out my actions. From all I could tell, I’d only helped to hold one small section of our lines, and I had no idea how the First Marshal thought that my efforts there contributed to the eventual outcome of the battle.

  “You probably couldn’t tell,” Evans continued, “but while he kept the beastkin at bay with his flames, you did much the same with your… display. Many of the beastkin simply froze in place once they caught sight of you. Their momentary inaction gave our archers and Evokers the opportunity to kill a great number of them before they could engage our forces. Every single one of us who survived last night owes their lives to the two of you.”

  Evans tone left no doubt in my mind that he felt certain of his pronouncement, and Khorim’s slow nod only confirmed that he shared the First Marshal’s assessment. The thought offered me some small consolation, somewhat countering the heavy weight I felt over the losses we’d suffered.

  But I didn’t want to dwell on that morbid fact, and since we were unable to determine our course of action until we had a better understanding of our circumstances, there were only two things left on my mind. Well, not things, exactly…

  “Stel, I was hoping to find Venna here. I haven’t seen her since the battle. Do you know where she is?”

  “She was up late tending to our wounded, Empress,” Stel smiled warmly as he replied. “She’s resting now, but I’m sure Venna wouldn’t mind if you stopped by to see her.”

  “I’ll keep it short,” I returned his grin. “I just need to see her with
my own eyes.”

  “Come, I’ll show you the way,” Insleí offered, before leading me back outside again.

  Insleí walked close beside me as we wound our way through the camp, close enough to reach out and take hold of my hand if she’d wanted to, although she made no move to duplicate my gesture. But I understood her nearness; she was offering herself to me in a way, leaving it up to me to decide whether or not I’d show my affection for her yet again. And I was certain that I’d do just that, only not at that very moment. The sense of resolve I’d come to on that issue had not faltered, I only needed to consider things more thoughtfully before I took the next step down that path.

  The fear I’d experienced during the battle the night before had churned up a maelstrom of emotions inside me, all of which revolved around one single and very chilling prospect: losing another one of my Tári the way I’d lost Tási. It wasn’t the thought of having them die; I knew I’d have to deal with that inevitable fact. It was the deep sense of regret I still harbored over holding back my feelings for them, publicly at least. My Tári were special people, deserving of recognition for the role they’d played in changing this world. Not the least of which was keeping me from losing myself to the intense emotions that threatened to overwhelm me at times. I’d finally decided that if this world couldn’t accept us, then it could just fuck off. We’d done our part and sacrificed too much for the benefit of others. If they couldn’t offer us the tiny bit of acceptance we deserved in return, then they weren’t worth our time anymore.

  We reached Venna’s tent, and Insleí pulled the flap open for me to enter, interrupting my thoughts as she did so. I ducked my head beneath the low ceiling as I stepped inside, and the canvas closed behind me. I was afraid Venna would be sleeping, but instead, I was happy to see her sitting atop her bedroll, obviously having just woken up. She smiled as I sat down beside her, and the warmth of her genuine expression only served to strengthen my convictions. With my mind now firmly made up, I leaned in and kissed her gently, letting my emotions flow freely to her during the brief moment that our lips brushed together.