Mydia's End

by Sean Davies

  Connie nodded. “I’m going to check it out. I think it will be safe for a Book Wielder.”

  “Are you serious? Just wait for the experts to finish their tinkering.”

  “I’ll be fine. I don’t know how I know, but I just do,” Connie assured her girlfriend.

  “Please, just wait,” Genie pleaded. “What if you’re wrong?”

  Constance grunted impatiently but stayed where she was; as soon as Genevieve turned away, however, the Book Wielder hopped off the last few steps and onto the massive circular floor.

  Everyone who was watching gasped, but quickly breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened.

  “Told you,” Constance said to Genevieve, who looked aghast.

  The Vampire Nightclaw pouted. “I’m breaking up with you.”

  “Please don’t. I was just following my instincts,” Connie said with a smug smirk.

  Some of the expedition team edged forwards to join her in the floor, until Ricardo waved his arms around so frantically it looked like he was trying to take flight. “Stop! She might get a free pass but I bet the rest of us won’t, so please stay here! Connie-Lee, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “So do I,” Constance said under her breath as she walked to the centre of the room.

  The sphere of light made no reaction to her presence, so the Tropican Book Wielder reached up and touched it.

  As soon as her fingers came into contact with the light, a crackling robotic voice boomed out from every direction. “Unrecognised Book Wielder! State your Conclave identification code through verbal, magical, or psychic means, immediately. You now have twelve seconds to comply!”

  “Oh, Constance…” Genevieve sighed from the stairway, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Quick, quick, quick!” Ricardo said frantically, gesturing for Stitches and Quoronastra to assist him immediately.

  Constance looked around in shock, and her mind went blank in panic.

  “Your twelve seconds are now up,” the voice bellowed, before becoming less robotic, sounding soft and feminine. “So, they’ve finally done it… they’ve finally broken our ranks. I have to see this with my own sensors.”

  “Excuse me?” Connie asked, totally bewildered.

  The sphere of golden light flickered on and off, and was soon replaced with a yellow hologram of a female Archmage Book Wielder with long rippling hair, dressed in a slim-fitted robe that was cut away in peculiar places.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” the blue and white-haired Tropican trooper Joran Ward muttered, earning him a nasty flick to the back of the head from his unofficial love interest, Licinia.

  Constance heard the yelp of pain from where she was standing and was glad the others could see the hologram too, although she still didn’t understand what the Archmage image was talking about.

  “I am truly sorry for what you’ve been put through,” the hologram continued to Connie, cutting out intermittently. “Just know that your pain will soon be over.”

  “Sorry, what are you talking about?” the Book Wielder asked stiffly.

  The hologram regarded her with a pitiful look. “Your Archmage torturers won’t be gaining entry, child. To safeguard this facility and the Creator, I will end you all.”

  “Woah, wait a second!” Constance yelled. “The Archmages haven’t been around for thousands of years!”

  “Poor sweet child… the atrocities those savage beasts must have wreaked upon you to make your broken mind weave such a mad statement,” the hologram sighed, switching on and off several times in the process. “I feel the essence of my twisted kin standing upon the stairs.”

  “No, they’re not Archmages, they’re Supernaturals!” Connie swore inside her mind, wondering how to compress the history of the planet into a believable bite-sized paragraph.

  The Archmage hologram shook her head sorrowfully. “Just take comfort in the fact that they will pay for what they’ve done. Our twin leaders, Elysiana and Anastrixia, will soon end the dominion of the Omni, once and for all.”

  “They did, it worked—sort of! They did it already!” Constance pleaded. “But something happened to the Creator, and we need to help it before it’s too late!”

  “If that was the case, I would have been promptly informed. What’s more, the Creator is tended to on a regular basis by the most prestigious members of the Conclave, all of whom have a mastery of astral projection and teleportation magics—as you already know,” the hologram said softly as it faded away. “Your ridiculous stories are a cry for help. Suffer no longer, child of Fate.”

  “Wait!” Constance shouted, but it was too late.

  The Book Wielder looked around, waiting for the worst, but the room remained unchanged.

  “Fuck, it’s greyed out,” Ricardo grunted, as the colours faded out of the crystal lattices.

  “What’s going on, Constance?” Sergeant Winters asked as Connie approached the stairs.

  “She—the building—thinks you’re working for the Omni and that you’ve coerced me into letting you in,” Connie explained. “I think it’s broken.”

  “What now?” Kyle the ranger asked.

  His brother, the armoured warrior Kieran, nudged Genevieve. “Genie-jay, do we carry on?”

  The blue-haired Vampire stared intently at the panels set around the room. “Something’s happening to the defences. It looks like they’re turning to dust…”

  “Probably just broken,” Till grunted.

  Before anyone else could speak, the staircases around the room flattened into smooth slopes, and the group either slid or leapt down onto the floor beside Constance. The stairway leading down into the next chamber slammed shut, trapping them in the cylindrical space.

  “Be ready for anything, guys,” Genevieve warned as she drew her Spell-forged steel Katana.

  Spouts of colourful dust billowed out from the remnants of the chamber’s defences, and the team shuffled towards the centre of the room to stay clear of it.

  Till quickly stripped his clothes off, hardly even growing more body hair as he transformed into a looming Werewolf Brutebeast covered in thick tangled fur. Lightning danced around his yellow claws, with pockets of strong wind circling his paws, and magma bubbled in his maw as he took full advantage of his Shaman elemental magic.

  The powdered crystal swept around the edges of the room as though it had been caught in a powerful gust, and soon became a violent tornado of glowing particles.

  “Wow, Connie, this worked out so much better than just waiting for me to do my thing,” Ricardo grumbled sarcastically.

  “Sorry… I thought I could get us in without any fuss,” Constance replied, feeling foolish.

  “No point worrying about it now—just focus on staying alive,” Genie began. “We can kick Connie’s ass after if we survive.”

  “Gee, thanks babe,” Constance deadpanned as she summoned a barrier around the team, seconds before the dust storm attempted to envelop them.

  Constance closed her eyes and summoned all her strength, as blasts of energy hammered her magical shield from every direction.

  “Give it some back!” Genevieve shouted. She drew her pistol and fired randomly into the cloud, more to feel useful than anything else.

  The bald Mage, Peter Zelphinas, sent a shockwave of energy through the group to empower them all before joining the Werewolves, Till and Valkeria, in firing blasts of lightning into the deadly tornado.

  Quoronastra breathed an endless flamethrower of purple fire before him, and after a quick study, Stitches copied him and let forth his very own witchfire alt-breath.

  The gun-toting mercenaries Charlotte and Leanne rolled grenades along the floor, while the troopers and the ranger fired bolts of energy back at the furious storm surrounding them.

  Az raised his gold and silver bastard sword before him, muttering the strange verses of the witch hunters of old, and soon his purple Mage eyes burned with light yellow energy and his blade ignited with the same fury. He swept his sword in wide arcs,
taking care to avoid his comrades in the process, sending waves of holy fire out of the barrier.

  Ricardo Stern rummaged through his pockets until he found a small box of white ball bearings, each of which marked with a small red Archmage rune. He emptied a liberal amount on the palm of his hand and flung them up outwards like he was a farmer scattering seeds onto his field. The rare ancient grenades detonated several times each before being consumed by their own powerful red explosions, causing noticeable damage to the swarm of particles.

  Although they appeared to be slowly winning, the proximity of the team’s attacks also put incredible stress onto Constance, who was in visible discomfort as she forced herself to maintain the magical bubble that was keeping them all alive. The dust began to abate and Connie exhaled in relief, before Genevieve lunged into her without warning.

  A giant ruby fist slammed down into the centre of the group, right where Constance had been moments beforehand; thankfully everyone else had scattered, assuming correctly that Genevieve’s sudden movement meant trouble was on the way.

  Kieran swigged a potion from his belt and roared with rage, smashing his enchanted sword and shield into the fist before it could retreat, and Till pounced on it, adding his predatory Brutebeast attacks to the mix.

  Genevieve kissed Connie on the head quickly, before back-flipping in the direction of the melee fighters. In mid-air, she sliced at a massive emerald scythe dozens of times in a matter of seconds, rendering it useless before it could snick Till’s and Kieran’s heads off.

  The remaining dust cleared, giving the group full visibility for what awaited them; four colossal golems had formed from the powdered crystals and stood at the edges of the room, sweeping at the group with their massive weapon-like limbs and firing blinding lasers from their blank faces.

  Till leapt from golem to golem, aided by his air magic, and raked his electrified claws across the guardian’s translucent bodies. Genevieve darted and glided across the room, slicing and spinning in an elegant dance of death, while Kieran and Az hacked away at the golem’s legs, rolling often to avoid the fearsome counterattacks.

  Stitches continued to mimic Quoronastra’s intense fire breath, but also pushed his keen mind to the extreme and copied the spell-casters’ lightning; soon, sickly green lightning shot from his fabric fingertips, making him a living weapon of mass destruction.

  Everyone else clustered together so that Connie could shield them while they blasted the lifeless golems with spells, dragon breath, relics, and gunfire, but they had to move often whenever one or more of the golems decided to target them with a melee attack too powerful for Constance to block.

  Till, Genevieve, Az, and Kieran focused their attacks on a single guardian and managed to smash it to bits, and moments later the ranged attackers blasted a second one into pieces, but the shattered gems flew to the remaining golems and fused onto their forms, giving them extra limbs and weapons.

  The melee fighters were forced to retreat, as Till and Genevieve were constantly dodging wide beams of energy, scythes, swords, and car-sized fists. The scruffy Werewolf became enraged and went back on the offensive, clawing at one of the golem’s faces, but was merely head-butted back into the ranged group. Till recovered quickly and he bounded back into the fray, but not before ‘accidentally’ shoving the trooper Licinia out of Connie’s barrier.

  The blonde trooper quickly reached for her rifle, which she’d dropped when Till had collided with her. Licinia grasped her gun’s grip and ran back to the others, but a beam of light disintegrated her free arm before she could get back to safety. She screamed in agony, writhing on the floor beside Connie’s feet.

  The Tropican Book Wielder lost her temper at the sight of her suffering companion, and she reached inside herself for every atom of power she possessed. Sizzling beams of yellow fire spat forth from her magical shield, impaling the golems with ease; as Constance performed both defensive and offensive magic simultaneously, however, she found her energy waning rapidly. In desperation, she reached out around her, as though her mind was seeking a new power source, and found herself connected to the very pulse of the ancient pillar. The sensation was overwhelming, and she could hear the Creator screaming in her mind, but she held the strange connection long enough to syphon and enhance her abilities. The Book Wielder’s barrier flared outwards in bright, pulsating golden shockwaves which reduced the two remaining golems to ash, before she lost consciousness and fell to the floor beside Licinia.

  The staircases silently returned to their original state, including the set that led deeper into the access shaft.

  “Get out the potions, quickly!” Genevieve ordered as she squatted beside Connie and Licinia.

  The troopers assembled around their injured comrades, but Valkeria promptly scattered them away so that she had room to work. The green-haired Werewolf Shaman placed one hand on Licinia’s brow, instantly relieving her pain, and held the other over the injured trooper’s charred shoulder stump. Clear water filled with green sparkles rippled from Valkeria’s palm, forming the outline of an arm in place of Licinia’s missing one. The magical liquid fell to the floor, leaving the blonde Justiciar with a brand-new arm.

  “You can fix limbs?” Joran Ward gasped as he helped Licinia, who was still in shock, onto her feet.

  “Uh huh,” Valkeria nodded exhaustedly. “I can heal anything, as long as the person isn’t dead. How do you think these loonies are still alive and kicking?”

  “Th-thank you,” Licinia stuttered gratefully, as she checked out her new arm in disbelief.

  “Want to go back to the ship for rest and repairs, trooper?” Sergeant Winters asked his subordinate with noticeable concern in his voice.

  Licinia shook her head rapidly and held her rifle proudly. “No thank you, sir. One unarmoured limb isn’t going to make much difference here.”

  Stitches, Ricardo, and Quoronastra—all of whom had escaped the battle unscathed and unwearied—dispensed energy potions to the exhausted expedition team, along with healing potions for those who needed them.

  Genevieve took a vial of blood for herself, and poured an energy potion into Connie’s mouth.

  After a few seconds, the Book Wielder opened her pearl-tinted white eyes and blinked several times, before jolting upright. “We won?” she asked, clearly surprised.

  “Yup—thanks to you, hun,” Genevieve said with a smile. “I’d say we’re about even, considering you got us into that shit-show in the first place…”

  “Sorry,” Constance groaned. “Remind me not to listen to my instincts.”

  “I thought it was quite fun,” Stitches commented without thinking, and received a lot of disapproving looks from the shaken team.

  “Next time something like that happens, can you try opening with that amazing attack, baby doll?” Ricardo joked to Connie, glad to have survived the encounter.

  “I would if I knew how,” Constance replied. “It was like I sucked the power out of the building itself.”

  “You’re not a robot, are you?” Kieran joked.

  “I think Genie can vouch for my humanity,” Connie smirked.

  “Intimately,” Genevieve confirmed naughtily, before clearing her throat. “If everyone’s ready, let’s get a move on. Any nasty surprises waiting in the next room, Ricardo?”

  “Nope, just a lectern that Connie-Lee actually does need to approach this time,” the adventurer replied.

  “I’m never living that down, am I?” Constance sighed as she took the lead.

  The group walked downstairs into another cylindrical chamber that was a lot shorter than the previous one, lit by four big golden Conclave symbols built into the stone walls (along with a larger one on the ceiling). At the centre of the room was a grey stone elevator with bands of silver- and gold-work lining its circumference, and in the dead centre stood a gold and white marble lectern. Despite Ricardo’s assurances that nothing untoward would happen if no one but Constance touched the lectern, the expedition team took it slow just to be sur
e, and they gathered around her on the elevator as she approached it.

  Constance produced her book and enlarged it to its unaltered state, opening it down the middle as she placed the large tome carefully upon the lectern.

  The elevator rumbled before descending into the stone floor, taking them down at a comfortable pace.

  Constance was pleased that the process had worked without a hitch, but couldn't help noticing that Till was giving both her and the lectern a dodgy look.

  For several minutes they passed through smooth stonework, illuminated by the Conclave's emblem in the same fashion as the elevator room above, until the sides of the shaft widened drastically, leaving the elevator disc to drift down in mid-air with no barriers to contain them.

  Stitches bravely peeked over the edge. “Oh, my… I can't even see the bottom!”

  Genevieve joined the Alt, and noticed that the composition of the shaft ahead was different. “Wow, I think we're in for a treat, guys.”

  “What can you see?” Connie asked.

  “The sides ahead are transparent,” Genevieve answered. “Look!”

  The stonework passed them by and the group was surrounded by clear crystal, revealing the depths of the endless ocean on all sides. Shafts of sunlight penetrated the calm waves far above, illuminating the titanic sea creatures and schools of tiny colourful fish that darted around them.

  “It's all so beautiful,” Constance said, drinking in the incredible scenery.

  “And more importantly, it's going to make for top-Credit footage,” Ricardo joked greedily.

  “Traitor,” a distorted voice hissed from above the lectern.

  Everyone turned to face the direction of the voice, and the Archmage hologram from the previous room took form just above Connie's open book.

  “You fought for them, you fought to protect them!” the hologram snarled angrily at Constance.

  “We're not the Omni, we're here to help,” Genevieve attempted to explain.

  “Silence, tyrant—you may have masked your power, but I know what you are!” the Archmage replied.