by Ryan DeBruyn
After ten long seconds, the Enbarr calmed down, moving to the elevator and the enchanted dome fell. “Octorian lies broken at the feet of the Enbarr. The legendary horse that has never lost. Today, the champion enraged the beast and was utterly destroyed for his folly. We apologize to the crowd, but there was no saving him today!” the announcer added.
The mob seemed to draw in a collective breath. Then it exploded in jubilation. Azrael assumed that they had never seen the Enbarr pushed that far. The bloodthirsty didn’t care about the death of the champion. They were ecstatic to see something new…
Azrael’s lungs screamed at him and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His heart stuttered and his stomach flipped. This was why he wouldn’t leave his fate up to the crowd!
Chapter Thirty-One
Bat, Jophiel, Verimy, and Azrael were all assigned to the stone gathering crew the next day. Azrael wondered if this was a permanent change to the work crews or if this was pure happenstance. If this was luck, they might have their highest chance of success right now. Of course, if Frag, the new Arena Champion, was making permanent changes…
Well, then they had time to plan. Azrael wasn’t normally in the business of hoping—but with all the lobbying that Ogma was doing and Octorian’s death? He had to believe this was not chance.
After the fight yesterday, dinner had been a very subdued affair in the mess hall. Frag practically bounced in his seat. “I’m the new champion! That windbag finally went all out against the Enbarr. He must have been feeling the pressure from the rumors and the crowd’s displeasure,” the Goblorc crowed.
Azrael couldn’t speak to the rest of the room’s dejected state, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what a deathtrap this place was. The strongest combatant couldn’t even face the third mini-boss. How could anyone hope to defeat Musth?
The truck was already half full today and so the group spread out and worked sedately. He extricated a chunk of stone with distracted swings from his pickaxe. When he placed it on the table to shape, he overheard the nearby guards talking. “Do you think Frag will have what it takes to get to the Enbarr? Octorian was the closest I have ever seen or heard of. He had it below fifty percent!”
“I think everyone just wants to see Musth fight! I would even accept it getting released during the tournament! That’s pretty much the most we’re ever going to see of it,” his fellow guard responded.
“I heard it was the pet of a top member of the Tuatha De Danaan, and it was getting too unruly to control! Can you imagine controlling a creature that powerful!”
Their patrol took them out of hearing range after that. That little nugget of conversation gave Azrael an additional backup plan. It wasn’t for an escape, but it may get the crowd further onto his side if he was ever in danger.
***
“Frag is making the work crews more efficient. From now on, you will all be placed on the same job. Frag can’t reassign Dara, as she is a maid for Oberan. There is an unofficial ranking of the duties. It seems that the stone crew is by far the most hated, which made it easy to convince Frag to place you all there. Seems most of the other combatants don’t like you. Dara, as a guest of Oberan, can’t do the ‘harder’ tasks,” Ogma confirmed Azrael’s suspicions from earlier this morning.
“We need to find a way!” Verimy exploded from his seat. They were all eating lunch in their cells on the third floor. “Would bad behavior relegate her status? Can we change the opinion towards the stone crew?”
Azrael shook his head. He had always found it odd that two trainers from the Sovereign Hall were so close. The students were taught to never count on anyone else, to see people for the value they added, or took away. Here was the reason. Irrational thoughts that led to stupid actions. He wouldn’t let himself do the same.
“Sweets, you must escape and then come back for us. There is no other way,” Dara attempted to soothe Verimy. They quickly broke into hand gestures to continue the discussion privately.
He couldn’t speak for anyone else, but Azrael would likely leave everyone behind if it meant escaping. Last night’s fight had highlighted just how screwed they all were. Piercing blue eyes met his. He shook his head. Why was he staring at Jophiel?
He felt his cheeks heat up and spoke to cover his confusion. “What do you guys think of trying to take a transport truck? It is easy to control the pace of the work to ensure it is full at the end of the shift. This has worked twice now to get a ride back. Once onboard, there are only six guards with us.”
“What about the other twenty-six slaves?” Bat asked.
“If the team is the same going forward, we could recruit them to our side,” Jophiel suggested.
Azrael considered that as he chewed. Verimy just stared at him, his look oscillating between dismay and a paternal pride that made Azrael uncomfortable. Once he swallowed, he responded, “With the reaction we evoke in the others, I doubt it. Even if we can convince them, we can’t pull them in fully. It is far too risky. One may turn us in to gain favor with Oberan. I think the best bet is to try to befriend them a small amount. Since they are also on stone gathering, they must be hated as well. This way they won’t go against us when the time comes. But don’t tell them a thing about the plan.”
“How do you plan to get out of the enchanted restraints?” Ogma asked, his voice dripping with humor.
Azrael hadn’t thought that far ahead, but gave Ogma a weary stare to show he didn’t care for his tone. Dara and Verimy rejoined the others only to further disrupt the planning. “How do we plan to come back?” Verimy interjected, skipping the whole section where they had to escape first.
Azrael glared at his former trainer. “They sell tickets to the events, don’t they? I am sure we can use that to gain access back into the Pit. Still, we have to escape first, so let’s focus on that…”
Verimy flushed and went silent. Azrael hoped he would stay like that for the rest of the discussion. “We don’t have a lot of time left. Ogma, based on your tone, I assume you have a way to neutralize the restraints?”
“Yes, but it takes some practice. You essentially have to learn enchanting, so you can disenchant the runes. We can work on it starting now. How many people know meditation?”
All but Bat’s hand went up. “All right, everyone else get into a meditative state and I will give Bat a crash course.”
Azrael sat down and began meditating. He cleared his muddled thoughts and immediately felt his shoulders relax as his breathing calmed. He had practiced meditation for his entire life, and had missed using it for its calming effects deeply this last week. For the first time in days, he felt like himself again. He calmly analyzed the current escape plan and acknowledged its few flaws. Without emotions, he could see a few other sticking points. Where was the best place to go with the transport? Could they dump the stones to be more efficient? Would the other slaves follow his group’s orders once extricated?
Ogma interrupted his musings. “All right! Within your meditation, I need you to feel inside yourself. Find your Ether pool.”
Azrael sunk deeper into himself and did as requested; he had learned to do this at the Sovereign Halls. The pool rippled as it expanded and contracted, lapping against an invisible shore. Almost like his stomach lining was sand that held the pool in place.
“Bat, the pool is usually below your heart, in the area of most races’ stomachs. The heart is actually the primary filter for external Ether. It converts the external to internal and allows you to use it. Found it? Good. Next, try to mentally grab an edge of the shore. Picture it like sand on a beach. Right now, you have a hole dug in the sand filled with water. Begin digging a path in the sand away from the pool.”
Taking a deep breath, Azrael attempted what Ogma suggested and felt his Ether pool stretch in the direction he indicated with his mind. In shock, he stopped concentrating and felt the pool snap back.
“Make sure you keep holding that picture in your mind. I want you all to dig a path to the palm of your left hand,” Ogm
a continued before waiting a moment. Azrael’s face began to sweat but just as he neared his palm, Ogma gave further direction. “Now round it in the palm and return the path to your pool. Do not merge the streams you have created!”
Azrael had been about to do that and felt his breathing quicken at the tone in Ogma’s voice. It suggested that connecting the pathways wouldn’t end well. He wondered what would happen but heard someone scream and collapse a moment after the errant consideration.
“Dara, you are okay. It only rebounded into your pool. You will have a headache, but when you are ready, try again. Good, Bat, let’s let the others catch up,” Ogma instructed.
Once Azrael connected the river to his pool, he felt a pull and then Ether flew down the first path and back, creating a loop.
Congratulations! You have learned a new skill.
Ether Channels
● This skill allows you to increase the regeneration of Ether in your body.
Weak – Increases your Ether regeneration by 1% per level.
Each rank of this skill will increase Etherience awarded due to increased filtering capacity by 0.1% per level.
Current Rank: Weak level 1.
--
Congratulations! You have learned a new skill.
Internal Ether Manipulation.
● This skill will allow you to form spells faster based off of your skill level.
Weak – Increases casting speed by 0.5% per level.
Current Rank: Weak level 1.
Azrael dropped his meditation and looked at Ogma. Those two skills were insane. Anyone could learn them? Why hadn’t the Sovereign Hall taught him about them? Would they have taught him after his eighth birthday? No, Dara and Verimy were learning them right now too.
He narrowed his eyes at Ogma. The Firbolg smiled and shrugged, “It is best to know these two to become enchanters. You can become an enchanter without it, but it is not as effective. Also, these are just the low levels of both of these skills. The real secret and power come much later. Now, get back to it, we are going to create a few more paths.”
Soon Azrael had five, one to each limb and one through his head. He couldn’t believe how good it felt. Almost like he had only been breathing through pursed lips and finally discovered how to open his mouth and take a deep breath. His whole body tingled and from a few glances at others’ faces, they all felt the same.
That was when the guards arrived to take them to their next shift at the stone yard. Ogma nodded to himself before sitting down. “Good, after dinner tonight we will do some more work.”
***
After dinner, Azrael excitedly entered his cell and immediately entered meditation in preparation. There were deeper secrets to these new techniques, and he wanted to find them!
Ogma laughed when he saw Azrael sit down as if in preparation for a riveting lesson. “Let’s let everyone else get into meditation. For now, Azrael, just try to adjust the pathways you already have. Send more or less Ether along them to cycle back to your pool, things like that.”
He followed the instruction and soon was able to speed up or slow down the amount. His pool swirled almost like it was a whirlpool. The pattern mesmerized him. If he got the speed of the channels right, it promoted the spin. It required his two arm channels moving at full speed, and varying adjustments on his legs and head. Still, the swirling pool of Ether didn’t seem to gain him any benefits.
He opened his eyes and saw Ogma regarding him. His eyebrow raised. The others were all meditating. What had happened to the lesson?
Ogma shook himself and coughed. “Sorry, I got distracted. Next is to create smaller channels that branch off of the large ones. Think about it like arteries and capillaries. Wait!” Azrael had started branching off his streams near his pool and assumed the shouted exclamation by Ogma was directed at him. “Consider where you want Ether to congregate more heavily. You already have a pool in the center of your body, so no need to create vast networks there just yet. Start with the channels in your hands. Create a thin strand for each finger.”
Under Ogma’s directions, they had small branching streams in all of their extremities. Azrael thought it had been a quick process but checked his interface clock and realized it had taken a large amount of time. As soon as he opened his eyes, a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. He found the others asleep on their beds and looked around. Ogma was regarding him. He held a finger to his lips and made a pillow symbol with his hands. It was time for sleep.
Azrael laid down in his bed. Tomorrow he had to fight the third Arena Challenge and Team Plotz.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Azrael watched his opponent hop towards him. The third challenge—was a warren of rabbits? He looked at the quest again.
Dungeon Quest
Apprentice Combatant
Third Level Survival Challenge
Basher Colony
The dungeon will pit your skills against its third level mobs, the Bashers. Defeating the third challenge will unlock the fourth challenge. Completing these challenges will increase your rank in the arena and offer rewards along the way. Every fifth challenge will be a mini-boss, until the 20th round, at which point you will compete against the Arena Boss spawn.
Good luck!
Rewards:
Etherience
Looted reward
Progression through Combat Ranks
The rabbits had a shining white, flat protrusion on their foreheads. It was oval in pattern and surrounded by brown fur. Instantly, he could tell that it was bone meant to batter opponents. Each rabbit came up to his knee in height but had powerful enough legs to clear heights higher than his head. Their strength, combined with the sheer number of them, was going to make this fight difficult. Getting hit could easily break a bone or, if a vital area was struck, cause severe damage. The dozen bunnies were already spreading out and surrounding his position. Azrael jogged back and put his back to the wall. Dealing with them in one hundred and eighty degrees would be hard enough.
Activating Soul Cloak, Azrael prepared by dropping into Wind’s Etching. His sword wouldn’t have time to stop spinning after the first attack. He charged his blade next, trying to determine how many stacks would be ideal. Some quick math landed him on three stacks. With his current Ether pool and regeneration, that should last for a minimum of ten opponents. The first bunny bounded at him from the direct front and he batted it out of the air. His blade turned the creature into a bloody mess that his swinging sword flung away. He continued the motion of the slash and turned both thumbs down, attempting to conserve most of the momentum in the weapon.
His wrists rotated and he brought the hilt above his head to swat at another rabbit that was already airborne on his right. The power of the blow pounded the corpse of that rabbit into the sand, cratering the surface as more red blood sprayed. At the bottom of his swing, he absorbed some momentum into his knees and levered his right elbow into his chest, turning the rest of the force into a cross body slash again. He pushed off with the toes of his back foot and rotated on his front heel to turn his body. This sent another bunny corpse into the rounded wall behind him. He drew the blade close to his body and continued to spin.
He stepped with his front foot, stretching his groin muscles, and snapped his arms back out, slowing the rotation and striking another rabbit a few feet from him. He pushed into the opening that strike created, making a small step and then a leap to the right of his original position. He tucked into a roll over the sand and his Soul Cloak told him that three Bashers had barely missed him. He regained his feet and restarted his spinning sword. Five down—seven to go.
The fight continued to go his way until he killed his tenth critter and lost track of the final two beasties. His Soul Cloak screamed at him.
Great, I know where they are, at least.
He arched his back, trying to avoid the one careening at his floating ribs. The second one was unavoidable and crunched into his knee. He heard the impact and felt the limb buckle in a dire
ction he knew it shouldn’t. The momentum of the Basher that had just broken his knee stopped, and Azrael took a hand off of his sword to reach down and pin it to the sand using the scruff at the back of its neck. He rolled on top of it, grunting as his knee protested in pain. The Basher began bucking and attempting to escape just as he skewered it with the point of his sword.
The one that had aimed for his ribs jumped off of the wall, directly toward his head. He rolled farther and barely avoided having his head caved in. Then he held out a hand and whispered, "Release five!" The final Basher was obliterated in a cloud of sand and blood. Azrael unsheathed his sword from the bunny corpse and looked at his crooked knee. He sneered—this next part was going to hurt.
He took a deep breath and put his sword hilt between his teeth, then gripped both sides of his mangled right knee. On his exhale, he jerked it back into place and screamed against his gag. His broken bone debuff morphed into a red highlighted joint.
Tendon Damage
● Your tendons were never meant to bend that way. Minus 50% Agility and Dexterity until the end of the debuff.
Time remaining: 2 hours, 59 minutes.
That was going to be cutting it very close to his next combat. Maybe eating would help speed up recovery, though he doubted it. He limped to each corpse or patch of fur that remained of his opponents and looted them. He received one item.
Lucky Rabbit’s Foot
● This foot will grant the carrier no luck whatsoever. It is simply a grisly trophy that reminds you of your barbarism. Why are you still holding it?
Azrael threw the item to the sand in disgust. At least he had finished the quest, but if he was struggling this badly on the third challenge, he doubted he could live past the fifth. This made it even more important to follow through with his plan to win the crowd over, just in case.