Angst Box Set 1

by David Pedersen

  Her cheeks, wet with tears, pressed against his own. She didn’t want this to end and neither did he. Chaos and war reigned around them. He felt a thousand eyes glance their way, but didn’t care. He needed this moment, needed her, and knew she felt the same. There was no insecurity, no heroics, nothing but the passion of two beings who’d found each other in the midst of everything wrong. With every bit of him, he was reluctant to let go of this moment.

  She slowly pulled away from his lips and his racing heart. Angst continued holding her hands as he stepped back for one last look at his beautiful mermaid. He longed for her, in all ways possible. She’d briefly filled that hole in his life. Moyra was the adventure. Exotic and beautiful, she was wrong in all the right ways. It was a singular moment that he would appreciate forever. How could he be so lucky?

  “I...I love you, silly hooman,” she said hopefully.

  “I...” he started to reply. “Moyra, I...”

  Moyra screamed as she was wrenched from his hands. The wail in his mind made him wince as he watched her rise into the air. Angst reached for his swords, looking for tentacles to cut off but found none. She hovered there, writhing and fighting as her arms splayed apart and her fingers spread. Her panicked eyes sought Angst’s, desperate for him to be the hero.

  “What do I do?” he pleaded to the swords.

  A flood of information from both weapons filled him with theories and ideas, each vying with the other to provide empty answers, but neither had experienced anything like this.

  Angst leaped to tackle her, hoping to free Moyra from her invisible confines. He bounced off an unseen barrier and was thrown roughly, flipping over onto his chest. He pushed himself up, only to watch in horror as water drained from her fingers, from her toes. It flowed out like a fountain, as it had with Tamara. She deflated, her skin tightening to her skeleton as all fluid left her body. Her breathing began to labor, her body shrank, and she continued to scream in his mind. It was all of his nightmares, and his mind recoiled into a cold, dark place.

  “No,” he cried out. “Please, no...”

  “An-gst, you are my hero,” Moyra pleaded in his mind, her voice scratchy. “Save me!”

  “Moyra,” he pleaded. “I lo—”

  It was done. The husk of her remains fell into a pile of scale and bones. Angst stood still. He’d dropped a sword and covered his mouth with a shaking hand. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The water drawn from Moyra joined a stream flowing from the sinkhole to create a small water spout. The watery tornado grew in size until it formed into the shape of a woman, and Water stood before him. She was the same titanic height as Earth, and sloshed noisily as she pressed forward. An evil, satisfied grin spread across her fluid face.

  “Why?” Angst croaked, his voice thick with mourning. The swords were in his hands, though he didn’t remember wielding them. They provided no information, no song; they merely hummed with a dangerous power that made his bones rattle. He felt cold and distant from everything around him.

  “So you could experience what you did to me,” Water said in a gurgly voice.

  63

  The effort required to control her swifen was more than Tori had wanted to admit to Angst. With his help, the creature flew on its own and she could steer it like a ship, albeit a ship that could barely turn. Now, it reacted to her every movement, and she felt like she was learning all over again. She looked down, and whatever Faeoris had done had cleared out a section of the maiden’s courtyard, like clearing off place settings at a dinner table with a broadsword.

  Victoria veered the unicorn downward, patting it encouragingly. It landed on the outcrop, and she looked around with a sad sort of bitterness. Her courtyard, their courtyard, the place she’d met Angst, was torn in two. It broke her heart. This was her castle, and she hadn’t been here to save it. Resolve filled her, a cold strength that kept her from mourning the loss of life and property. Mourning would be for later; now was the time for vengeance.

  She dismounted, petting the summoned creature thankfully before dismissing it. Wielders and soldiers alike stared in slack-jawed silence. An old man shouted to attack, but none did. Judging by their surprised stares, they knew who she was, but looked to each other for guidance. They now knew the princess could wield magic, and she sensed their resentment for her leaving. Tori felt respect, fear, awe, but also uncertainty. She also saw Vars.

  The old man, who she barely recognized as Sir Ivan’s father, stood over the body of Rook, a friend of Angst’s. She rushed to Rook, her red cloak flapping behind her, and knelt beside the young soldier.

  “My queen,” Rook said in a weak voice.

  He was close to death, and Victoria touched his cheek. She saw in her mind what had happened. In that brief moment of his remaining life, she knew him. She knew his love for Janda, the future they should’ve had, the many children they would’ve had. He would’ve led the wielders to become zyn’ights, her mage corps, defending the realm from unknown forces. He could’ve gone on to become one of her generals, one of her closest advisors, and her friend. In her heart, she knew that he’d stood for right, and he loved his queen. She lowered her head, tears leaking down her cheek.

  “You saved us with these wielders,” she said in a raspy voice, “and you and Janda will be avenged. And I promise, forever, you will be honored in my court.” The tiniest light of pride appeared in his eyes as they were lost to death.

  She saw clearly, more now than ever in her life. Her vision wasn’t clouded by remorse, nor foci, nor Angst. Victoria had been forced to wield like never before, summoning her swifen to fly on her own. It was a newfound strength, a pinpoint of clarity. Her vision was pink from her suddenly-glowing eyes. She saw all those around her, felt their lives and knew them. There was nothing lost to her as she knew their greatest hopes and darkest fears, the path this could be, that she would make.

  “Wielder!” Vars cried, striking down.

  As fast as thought, Queen Victoria drew her long, thin swords and blocked the attack. She rolled over Rook’s corpse and swung with her other sword, slapping Vars across the face and cutting his cheek. She sliced his wrist before ducking from another one-armed attack. Tori leaped into the air and kicked his face. He stumbled back as she landed and kicked his groin. He grunted.

  “I won’t be defeated by one of your kind,” he cried out.

  She said nothing, ducking another wild swing.

  “You can’t kill me!” he said.

  “You’re already dead,” she said calmly. “But I’m going to make it hurt before sending you back.”

  She dodged his blows, slicing at his face and wrist. Tori avoided striking his armor but punctured his every opening with the quickness of a wasp. In her mind’s eye, she could see Faeoris, a Nordruaut, and a Meldusian keeping the gargoyles and merpeople away. Soldiers, and wielders, were starting to cheer, and she was even more driven than before. He lifted the sword to defend a blow, and she saw the ring. A red ruby shone from his finger, identical to the one hanging from Angst’s neck, identical to Alloria’s, and she knew.

  “You see,” he said, bloody spit flecking his mouth. “No matter how much damage you do, I still survive.”

  “Gross,” she said, as the spittle landed on her chest. “I’m done with you.”

  As she swung down with all her might, he reached up to block her blow. The hilt of Victoria’s sword struck the ring, shattering it.

  “No,” he cried out.

  “For Rook,” she said. “For Janda.”

  A vortex of dark color swirled behind him, like the portal they’d left at the cave, but this one seemed hungry. Hair flapped around her face as the wind was sucked into the darkness. He cried out, reaching for her, for anything as his body bent. She heard a crack as he was folded like paper, his bones snapping to fit into the darkness as it shrank. His body continued to crack, the metal of his old armor creaking noisily as pieces of him were jerked through. Victoria watched coldly as Vars disappeared into nothing, and the vortex flashed
out of existence with a noisy pop.

  Cheers surrounded her, and she spun on her heel to see soldiers and wielders kneeling at her feet. Faeoris bowed her head respectfully. The Nordruaut and Meldusian knelt to a queen. She shook with rage.

  “That is enough!” she shouted. Everyone looked up. “We are at war! All of us! Together!”

  Everyone stood, looking at each other in surprise.

  “We fight as one!” she cried, lifting a sword high into the air. “Soldiers and knights, wielders and friends, we will defend Unsel together!”

  Most cheered, and none argued as they braced themselves for another round of battle. A skinny young man with wild hair and clad in dark robes pressed through the crowd.

  “But how?” he asked. “How can we fight all of this?”

  Even as he uttered the words, he stepped back in wonder when the ground rippled as if a stone had been dropped into a pond. A body popped out in front of him with hard, spiky fur and a human-like face. Gamlin jumped out of the ground as if it were water, each looking at Victoria. Angst had called for reinforcements, and seeing them made her shoulders drop. Several soldiers and wielders drew arms or stepped back until a small one hopped onto her hand.

  “We brought help,” she said, looking at the creature.

  It nodded at her with a grin, and she threw it at a gargoyle. It bored partly into the creature’s chest along with several others and then the gamlin shook like dogs after a bath. The gargoyle’s eyes widened in shock as it exploded into gooey pieces. Without a backward glance, the gamlin dove back into the ground.

  “Now I task you all,” she commanded, “go save Unsel!”

  64

  Water knelt to inspect Moyra’s remains, rubbing several scales between her large, fluid fingers. She flicked them away as if they were sticky and disgusting. The element stood, towering over Angst, her knees rising higher than his eyes. Unlike Earth in her toga, Water was nude, though without definition. She was curvy, with the suggestion of short, tightly curled hair, but no hint of fine distinction. She placed her hands on her hips like an angry parent.

  “Why?” he cried out as he stared at the small pile of scales. His heart ached, but everything else was numb.

  “It’s called revenge, Angst,” she said, crossing her arms. “You chased Magic through the countryside, and Johnis, my love, was killed in your wake of madness. I thought it only fair to take something of yours for the pain you dealt me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, kneeling before the remains. “I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop Magic.”

  “And that’s your excuse?” she asked, nonplussed.

  “I was trying to save people,” he replied. He felt like he’d been slapped in the face.

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you? You have to be a hero, no matter the cost,” she admonished. “That’s what made this so delicious, Element of Humans. I led you to a challenge you couldn’t refuse, the opportunity to be a hero once again.”

  “Your people,” he began. “I set them free.”

  “Moyra deceived you to save my people,” she explained. “They’d been cursed long ago. The men were imprisoned in that mage city, left to die. That dome trapped them, separated them from the women so there could be no love, no children. They were kept from me and forced to live apart forever.”

  “And I freed them. Wasn’t that enough?” he demanded.

  “No! You needed to feel the pain I felt, but more,” she went on. “She never loved you. She lied to you, Angst.” Water leaned forward, a wicked frown on her face. “Oh, how that must sting.”

  “I...” Angst clenched his fists, staring down at the remaining scale as it blew away in the cold wind.

  “I wanted you to lose someone you cared for, but I could only hope to get lucky enough that you would actually love her.”

  Angst’s head snapped up.

  “But it’s worse, isn’t it?” she taunted. “She betrayed you! Using you to free the mermen, and now they’re killing your people! What a hero you turned out to be!”

  “No,” he cried out.

  “Oh, and you destroyed Air in the cave when you bonded with a second foci.” She crossed her arms. “I think I may be winning this war again.”

  “All this destruction, all this death, all because of something Magic did?” He screamed so loud his throat hurt. “And her! Why her? She’s one of your people.”

  “Was one of my people.” Her icy voice was filled with bitterness. “Now you know what I went through.”

  Angst wiped tears from his cheeks. She was smiling, almost reveling in his pain until he started to chuckle. It grew louder until it was outright laughter. Her watery face frowned.

  Victoria pulled her blade from a mermaid’s chest, and took a step toward Angst. He was in more pain than she’d ever felt.

  “He needs me,” she said out loud.

  “Of course he needs us,” Faeoris agreed, fighting by her side. “Let’s go!”

  Victoria tore her eyes from him and looked up at the sky. Clouds were rolling in much faster than they should have, framed by flashes of blue and red lightning. She shivered at the power and electricity filling the air until Faeoris placed a hand on her shoulder and drew her sword, her bright wings spread wide.

  “No,” Victoria said firmly.

  “What?” Faeoris snapped. She punched a merman beside her, releasing pent up frustration. There was a loud crack as he flew into the air.

  “I believe in him,” she said confidently. “He’s got this.”

  “No, you did it wrong,” Angst said, catching his breath. “You miscalculated so badly. You’re an idiot!”

  “What?” She raised her arms and waterspouts grew from her hands up into the newly-formed clouds. “I’m not wrong! I’m Water, and I always win!”

  “You’re wrong about her. Moyra wasn’t a betrayer. She was a hero,” he said firmly. “She did what she had to and freed her people. She sacrificed herself so they would live.”

  “Moyra still lied to you,” Water argued.

  “She said she loved me, she saved me, even after her people were free,” Angst declared. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she was a fool!” Water spat.

  “No. It means you are a fool,” Angst said.

  “I’m done with your insults—”

  “What happened when Johnis was killed?” he asked, his voice as frigid as her own. “What happened when your love was murdered?”

  “I just told you,” she said with a frown. “I sought revenge.”

  “Exactly.” He leaped forward, plunging Chryslaenor into the element’s belly.

  Lightning struck from the nearest dark cloud like hungry blue fingers reaching for Angst and pouring into his blade. She instantly froze to become a giant icy statue, protecting herself from damage, just as he’d seen in his dreams. Just as he’d witnessed the night she attacked the ship. Cold covered his sword in frost, biting into his grip. She held Chryslaenor with both hands, smirking at Angst as though he annoyed her. She was ice now, as cold and solid as a lake in winter. Her movements slowed, slivers cracking away as she bent over to scold him.

  “Fool!” she spat, shards of icicles splaying with every word. “No mortal has ever killed an element with a foci!”

  “Try two!” he roared, driving Dulgirgraut deep into her chest, the blades now buried a foot apart between her sternum and midriff.

  “I’m not a human. This isn’t a body.” She laughed. “I can leave this behind when I want and... Wait, I can... I said, I can... No!”

  Red lightning now joined the blue, striking Angst, pouring through both weapons. He drew in so much power that it burned as hotly as his aching heart, but he no longer cared. He poured the anguish of Moyra’s death into both swords. He drew in the hurt, the guilt, the overwhelming failure, and forced it all into the foci. A bright pinpoint of light flashed inside Water, hovering evenly between the two swords. Angst roared as he forced the flat of both blades closer, ripping
through her icy body.

  “No! You can’t!” She tried pulling back. “I’m Water! No human can do this!”

  “I’m no longer just human! You made me this!” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m the element Human. I’m the element of Life!”

  She laid her hands on his shoulders and began drawing water from Angst’s body. He could feel himself weaken as liquid trickled out his fingers, but he wasn’t sure if his scream was from pain or anger. Chunks of ice shot out, and the light between the swords became brighter as they closed, so bright he squeezed his eyes shut. With a final burst of rage and power, he roared, and forced the foci together.

  Light flashed as the swords met. Water screamed as her body exploded into shards of ice, shooting outward. The flash burned his hands and face before he could raise an air shield; his armor felt so cold it was hot. He blinked a bright spot from his eyes and tried looking around. Everything within twenty yards was gone. Gargoyles, fish people, soldiers, all of them obliterated by the silent flash created by the twin blades, and no sign of the element.

  Angst was furious. Vanquishing Water wasn’t enough of a fight to quench his hunger for revenge. She’d killed Moyra. More than anything, he’d wanted to punish Water for what she’d done, but she was gone. He lifted Chryslaenor and struck at the giant creature below his feet. Smashing down with Dulgirgraut and then Chryslaenor, he pummeled the monster with his swords. He screamed in anguish as he let his fury out on the oldest creature in Ehrde.

  Everyone had stopped fighting, their attention on the battle between Water and Angst. Gargoyles, merpeople, and humans now watched in stunned silence as he continued smashing and swinging. Blue lightning struck the creature, and blinding flashes of red made them all turn away. Green bits of ooze splattered his armor and weapons. It went on for long minutes until he slowed. Angst lowered his weapons and dropped to his knees, weeping into his hands.