Evolve

by Derek Belfield

  They rapidly closed the distance, and when they were within melee range, the golem lashed out with a sweeping arm. Using all of the strength and speed the Scourge monarchs could muster, they leapt from their current position to dodge the incoming strike.

  Shale was able to get away cleanly, her superior speed showing its worth, but Slate wasn't as lucky. He was clipped by the sweeping blow and found himself flipping ass over end as his leap was redirected. The force of the attack was enough to throw him into the building adjacent to their previous position. Luckily, this home was made from wood rather than stone and Slate crashed through its side.

  He heard screams around him as the exterior wall splintered and collapses around his hurtling body. Dazed, he looked around and found himself in the middle of an open room, lying in the remains of a wooden table. He gathered his momentum and leaped to his feet in an acrobatic motion. Another chorus of screams hit his ears as he saw a man putting himself in between Slate and two women, presumably a wife and daughter.

  "No worries," Slate said. "I'm not here for you." He gave a slight laugh as he sprinted through the hole that he had made in the exterior wall and looked up to see what had happened since his unplanned departure.

  When he exited the building, he saw that Shale had somehow gotten on top of one of the golem's arms. She was breathing fire onto the limb as the golem tried to slap her away. In a display of dexterity and speed, she had been able to dodge the incoming blows thus far and had steadily been weakening that particular arm. It was apparent even from Shale's position that the spiritual animus that kept the golem running was fading in front of her flames.

  With the golem distracted, Slate decided to try and weaken its legs. He began to run towards the nearest one, dodging the debris and collapsed buildings that the golem had created while flailing around. As the Heritor moved, he could see dead or dying bodies within the destroyed structures. Unfortunately, his magic didn't lend itself to healing, and he didn't have time to stop and dig people out of the wreckage. If they couldn't kill this golem, and soon, then more people would die.

  As he neared the golem's leg, he also began to notice more people leaving their homes and massing in the street. They were trying to run from the supernatural catastrophe and Slate didn't blame them. However, the unfortunate fact was that more would die in the press of evacuating bodies than had they stayed within their homes.

  Slate reached the nearest leg and jumped onto it, sinking into its metal skin. Up close, the golem was rough and sharp from the various pieces of armor being shoved together with little eye to detail. Luckily for him, his scales protected him from the worst of the sharp edges.

  He glanced down and began to breathe fire onto the metal below. Everywhere his flames touched, the spirit energy would flutter and then flee. The golem roared above him, and from this close, the sound was nearly an attack on its own. It tried to move and swing the two Scourge leaders off of his body. Instead, it ended up flailing around and destroying more buildings around it. Slate cursed in his head. They needed to kill this monster before it had the chance to level the entire town.

  Slate twisted his body until his head was facing down. He started to launch fire towards the foot. As he did so, he noticed pieces of the armor at the very end would begin to separate from the massive creature. It roared in pain again, and he desperately tried to cling to his perch. He heard Shale through the Scourgemind.

  That's really pissing him off. Focus on his feet, and I'll try and keep his arms distracted. I'm going to move up the torso. Shale said determinedly. Slate signaled agreement and then focused on flaming more of the legs. He didn't have the opportunity to make sure Shale was doing what she said she was going to. He had to trust that she could handle it. He would know she had failed when the golem had the opportunity to turn him into a pancake.

  After systematically destroying the golem's leg, he had successfully shortened it to midcalf. The golem had to keep itself planted to keep itself from twisting off balance and crashing to earth. Slate cheered internally. They had taken away it's mobility, and now it was time for the killing strike. Coming up. He told Shale.

  He moved up the golem as dexterously as a gecko up a wall. Slate assumed that from a distance, that was probably exactly what he looked like. He was able to meet up with Shale on the torso of the golem as she had been expertly dodging its repeated attempts to grab her. As she avoided the golem's strikes, she would shoot fireballs into its face where they would explode loudly. The fire had done nothing to actually hurt the golem, but now it couldn't move without considerable risk to itself, and that was a win as far as Slate was concerned.

  Slate took part in the constant barrage, and the golem bellowed its rage. The sound, while not a surprise, was enough to slightly dislodge Shale and she plummeted from her place on the golem. She hit the ground hard, and she didn't get up immediately. Slate looked on in horror as the golem bent itself down to grab her. He couldn't let this happen.

  Slate crouched down—judging the position, timing, and distance—on the body golem and dug his claws in. He was on the same side of the golem's damaged leg on the opposite side of where Shale now lay dazed. With a violent movement, he used the golem as a platform from which to jump, sending himself sailing through the air. The point hadn't been to move him, though. The goal had been to put the golem off-balance as it was leaning over.

  His leap had a more profound effect than he thought it would. The golem tried to compensate for the push by moving its damaged leg forward. As it did so, it crashed into the ground, barely missing Shale. The leg splintered into multiple pieces of armor as it tore itself apart from the force of the movement and the knee of the golem collapsed in on itself.

  The abrupt shortening of the leg caused the entire golem to sweep to the side as it flailed to try and keep its balance. Slate watched warily as it's the whole body crashed to the earth and caused a cloud of dust to rise up. Slate rushed forward to grab Shale. She was holding her head with a scaled claw looking physically uninjured. He picked her up in a bridal carry and sprinted to gain some distance from the golem. It was bellowing and raging as it crashed through building and clawing its way forward to follow the fleeing Scourge.

  Slate jumped onto a roof with Shale in tow, to try and get a better look at the broken golem. As he turned to look back, the golem stopped scrabbling forward and stared into his eyes with unusual intelligence. Slate gently placed Shale on the roof of the building and tried to discern her condition while keeping an eye trained on the golem. Shale could sense his concern through the Scourgemind.

  I'm going to be okay. I think. She replied. My head feels like it got hit by a warhammer. I'm dizzy, and I feel nauseous.

  Slate spared her a concerned glance. She probably had a concussion. He didn't see any blood or anything else that pointed to further injury, but he wasn't a doctor. Additionally, the enemy they were fighting didn't have a biological body that they could consume to heal themselves. You'll be fine. He said comfortingly. Don't close your eyes. You might have a brain injury, and if you fall asleep, you might not wake up.

  Slate didn't know if that was strictly true. He had heard it in movies, and he would rather be safe than sorry. Plus, who knew what their biology was like now. It definitely wasn't human. He glanced back at the golem, still watching the two warily. When Slate looked back, it had given him a cold grin. Slate wanted to stay near Shale in the hope that their minor regeneration would help pull her further from danger.

  Violet light began to issue from the eyes of the golems. Expecting a ranged attack, Slate reflexively dropped to his belly, but the attack never came into being. Instead, more of the Vallyrian magic began to cover the rest of the golem. The whole body of the golem shone with blinding purple light and Slate had to close his eyes to preserve both his regular and mana vision.

  When the light cut out, Slate opened his eyes and jumped to his feet. Where the golem had been previously, a man-sized humanoid metal stood. Its skin was rough and uneven li
ke the armor that made it had been roughly welded into the form. Even as Slate watched, he could see that the face of this new golem changed; like liquid metal. It was a long-nosed man with thin lips and large eyes. Next, it became a woman with delicate cheekbones and pouting lips. After that, it became a gaunt man with a hook nose and thin, cruel eyes. The face kept shifting, and Slate assumed they were the faces of the cabal of Vallyrians that had summoned it.

  Every face of the golem was speaking quietly just under the level where Slate could discern from this distance. The thing was quite clearly insane. It argued to itself and walked in circles, speaking to people who weren't there. The golem made Slate uneasy. He looked down at Shale, and he could still see she was under the influence of her fall. He would have to do this himself.

  He leapt from the roof of the building and strode with confidence he didn't feel towards the mad golem. When he got near enough, the golem abruptly stopped and turned to face him. It looked up at him, face shifting, and started laughing eerily in different voices. If Slate hadn't been convinced before, then he was convinced now that the Vallyrians were abominations against nature. This amalgamation of souls couldn't be allowed to exist in the same world as him.

  Now you see. A voice whispered in Slate's head. Destroy them.

  A system message entered his vision.

  Congratulations! You have been given a blessing by the Lord of Light. You have gained 60 biomass.

  Slate frowned at the message. This was exactly enough for him to mutate one of his minor mutations when added to his current biomass. Lucidus was trying to tell him something. He critically observed the golem, but it hadn't moved. It seemed content to let him attack it as faces flickered around it constantly. What he needed was more of Lucidus' cleansing fire. She had to have known that.

  He mentally selected his fire mutation, and instead of the massive list of options that usually presented itself, he was left with one.

  Aspect of Cleansing Flames (ACF). This is a unique and legendary mutation available only to followers of Lucidus. This mutation further evolves the mana conversion organ into a full mana circulatory system within the body. Flames no longer depend upon a biological compound. Instead, it relies on stored mana. Ambient mana is drawn into the body from light and fire aspected sources and converted into the unique mana of Lord of Light. When channeled, the entire body becomes a source of Cleansing Flame, and all attacks and defenses become imbued with its power. This mutation grants active control to Cleansing Flame and significantly increases explosive power, flame intensity, and the speed of ambient conversion.

  WARNING! This power can only be channeled by someone who genuinely believes in the holy cause of Lucidus.

  WARNING! This mutation will bar the user from using any other forms of mana.

  WARNING! This fire cannot be put out unless the user wills it.

  WARNING! This mutation cannot be further evolved.

  This mutation was too good to be true, and the politician in Slate immediately recognized the honey pot for what it was. It was servitude. Lucidus was offering him a path to victory, but it was her way. His power would dramatically increase, but so would his dependence on her. The warnings from the system were well received. Should he not believe in Lucidus, when he channeled this ability, the fire would consume his body, and it couldn't be put out. It was instant and permanent death. He hadn't figured out everything that cleansing fire could do, but he did know it destroyed souls. Worse, once he chose this ability, he wouldn't be able to change it to anything else. It was the equivalent of placing a bomb in his skull and handing the Lord of Light the remote.

  He studied the golem in front of him. It still paced and argued with itself. It moved in jerky insectile movements. Everything in Slate's being was disgusted by it. He looked over his shoulder to the roof where he new Shale was resting. He thought about the conversation he had with her earlier that day.

  Isn't it her right? Shale had asked, and Slate had pondered that even now. He looked down at his scaled claws. He was a monster but was it so bad that he was a monster meant to kill other monsters? Wasn't that a life worth living? A life worth being brought back from death for? Lucidus certainly thought so. But that was the crux of the matter.

  Lucidus had waited to give him this boon until now for a reason. It was the appearance of choice, but not really. He had the distinct impression that if he didn't take a bite of this poisoned apple, then the creature in front of him would kill him. Very likely, she would move on to another champion. This particular plan of hers not working out the way she wanted. She likely preferred him, but anyone else of sufficient experience and similar background would probably do. If she could drag souls around the universe than he was sure she had a backup waiting in reserve from another time and place.

  He would do this for Shale and hopefully that would be good enough for the Lord of Light. She needed him, and he realized that he needed her too. Lucidus would only keep him as long as he was useful. He simply couldn't find it a good enough reason to believe in something. Shale, on the other hand, he could believe in that. If he were lucky, Lucidus would accept that form of worship. He would further the Scourge because Shale needed him to, and she believed in Lucidus.

  He sighed and mentally chose the mutation. Either he was going to burst into flames and die, or Lucidus would accept his silent offer. Immediately he felt as if he had been plugged into a supercharger. Power rushed through his veins, and he instinctively began to channel it. White fire began to shine through the gaps between and underneath his scales making his flesh look like living lava. His eyes, nostrils, and maw burned with fire, and small flames began to erupt from the edges of each orifice.

  The air around him became superheated, and small white flames began to ignite on the ground around him. He could feel the stone underneath his talons grow softer. With a thought, he discovered that he could control the temperature. He stopped projecting heat below him so that he wouldn't lose his footing and with a wave of his claws, the fire around him died, but he kept the barrier of superheated air. This power was exhilarating. It was overwhelming. He saw fear cross the twisting faces of the golem, and he smiled with his jaws filled with flame.

  Chapter 22: Pen and the Sword

  Merus sighed as he looked over a mountain of paperwork. This was not the kind of reading that he saw himself doing as an occupation. His whole life, he had wanted to research magic. He had been enamored with the magic of the Wyldwood. He had wanted to understand how everything worked.

  When he imagined the perfect life, he had thought that he would be ensconced within a mage tower somewhere, pouring over arcane and elaborate texts that tried to discern the true foundations of the world. Instead, he was the Governor of Lighthaven. He was suspicious that the Heritor had given him the position, not out of any perceived friendship, but because he didn't want to do the administrative work that Merus found himself doing.

  It turned out that there was quite a bit of bureaucratic work that was required to run a settlement, even one as small as theirs. Merus' first goal had been to set up a rank structure and choose the right people to staff the positions. Thankfully, Sumnu and Shale had done the grunt lifting on that particular job. His next task was to create patrol schedules so that each member of the Guardians had adequate time off while doing their actual jobs.

  Sometimes that also meant ordering Guardians to forage and hunt for food for the rest of the compound. Food within the forest was plentiful, but Guardians were increasingly pushing back and asking their supervisors why they had to do some of the chores that they had done before as civilians. To them, what was the point of undergoing a complete transformation if they were still stuck doing the same thing? Merus could understand the argument, but that didn't make the constant complaining any less annoying.

  He rubbed his temples and sighed out loud.

  "What's wrong, my heart?" a voice as calm and sweet as a chorus of songbirds asked him.

  He glanced up and smiled. Lucelynia ha
d entered the chamber within the palace that he had taken up as his residence. He had a roughhewn wooden desk and chair set within, and that was the entirety of its decoration.

  "Turns out I don't have much of a head for being a Governor." He replied, a touch sadly. She entered the room properly and set down a cup of tea.

  "I don't think that's true." She said with a gentle smile. "What are you working on?" She asked as he gingerly sipped the tea.

  "Inventories." He sighed. “It turns out the same magic provided the compound with a wealth of weapons, materials, and supplies that a small army needs to get started. Unfortunately, we don't know what we have, or in what quantities." He pulled out a sheet of paper and tapped on it.