by Azalea Ellis
I stopped pacing. “What if we don’t just try to make them feel better? What if we give them the impetus to actually make a difference? If we could give them something an individual could do to actively fight back against the Sickness, wouldn’t that change the whole landscape of the fight? Until now, it’s been running and hiding and killing each other to try and stay safe. I think there might be a way to change that.”
Torliam’s eyebrows rose. “Alright. Your words hold sense, but how would you do this?”
I grinned at him. “I made a bargain with the Other Place. Fire, in exchange for it draining less of our strength during the fight. What if we could do something similar, but on a much, much larger scale?”
He paused, as if arrested. “You would have the people make offerings to the place beyond the Veil?”
“Well, more or less. They can’t exactly send over an actual fire, especially not fire fueled by Chaos itself. But they could send over something filled with energy, right? Because that’s basically what the Other Place wants. Even if I’m wrong about hope undermining Pestilence’s odds, a better bargain with the Other Place is a concrete advantage.”
Torliam stood. “The crystals! The ones we use to hold power for our devices and our Shortcuts. Every Estreyan can push power into them with a small bit of blood dropped onto the surface. The larger ones are rare, but the small ones are everywhere, like your human batteries. It might not be Chaos, but with enough of them, you can call down lightning from the heavens and fold space itself. What is that, if not energy?”
Chapter 43
Fear cannot be banished, but it can be calm and without panic; it can be mitigated by reason and evaluation.
— Vannevar Bush
I talked to the cosmic whale of the Other Place again, and it was pleased to offer greater forbearance in draining us in exchange for more energy, in the form of Estreyan battery crystals.
So I had to go back to Estreyer. I was able to do so, because one of the ships that had joined us carried the invading force’s Shortcut. But I really didn’t want to.
I stood before the ball with its floating, orbiting rings, feeling faintly sick. My fingers trembled, and I felt like I had to pee, even though I knew I didn’t. I didn’t want to face Estreyer again, after my sensational failure. If I hadn’t been filled with a profound, roiling hatred that bubbled up when I sat still for too long and demanded I destroy Pestilence down to the last atom, I probably would have found some excuse not to go.
But I did have that hatred. It was a more competent motivator that my own selfishness had ever been. It didn’t care if I was afraid to face the people I’d let down and didn’t know how to convince them to help. My hatred was happy to sacrifice even me to the flames, if it would mean I could destroy Pestilence too. And in the face of his death, what was a little trepidation, a little humiliation?
I wondered–if this hatred was ever spent, would I be left empty? What could remain, when it filled my soul to the trivialization of all other emotion?
Beside me, Zed knocked his shoulder into my arm and threw me a small, reassuring smile.
On my other side, Torliam didn’t touch me, but his tone was a little too nonchalant to be convincing when he said, “Some may be foolish and wish to blame us for what was not our fault, but once they learn the truth, many of them will do all that is in their power to aid us. Those that do not are not worthy of saving, in any case.”
I took a deep breath, made sure my new scales and their involuntary reactions weren’t giving away my internal emotions, and nodded to the Shortcut operator.
The floating bands spun quicker and quicker, I heard faint music, and then we were standing in the cavern beneath the palace, barely nauseous.
Zed and Torliam came with me while the others remained behind to train and prepare. Zed, because he could provide me with protection by literally pulling me out of danger and into another world, and Torliam, because he was an Estreyan native, powerful enough to fight against other Estreyan warriors, and his mother was queen.
We’d only been walking away from the glow of the orbs that surrounded the arcane circle for a few minutes when Queen Mardinest met us.
She must have had some sort of alert set up on the Shortcut itself, I thought inanely.
She’d obviously run to meet us. Her skin was pale and drawn, with bags under her eyes. She’d come without any guards and stood blocking the path alone, panting wildly. She drew the knife at her waist immediately, brandishing it with a sure grip. “How dare you come here again, you honorless scum!” She spat on the ground, glaring at us.
Torliam stepped forward, snatching his mother’s wrist and holding it aloft.
She struggled against him, her other fist punching into his side in rapid succession.
Torliam winced and grabbed that arm, too, grunting out, “Mother, it is not as you think. We have not betrayed you, or the people,” before she could resort to kicking him.
She panted, glaring at him. “If you do not let me go, I will be forced to fight against you seriously. Step back.”
He let go and took a big step back from her, sidling close to Zed in a way that was almost comical, since my brother was so much smaller than him.
She glared at all three of us. “Explain. You have but moments before I lose my patience and call the guards to have you executed before the crowds as payment for the people’s suffering.”
I felt calmer now than I had before we left. “Use that Skill you told me of so threateningly. Smell the truth of my words as they carry through the air,” I said challengingly. “The Sickness is not a disease. It is the influence of a being called Pestilence, who is sentient and powerful, and much like the gods of this world. The Champion has been fighting against him until now, and that is why Pestilence struggled to spread his power among us. Pestilence has now defeated the Champion, and this is why he is able to kill swaths of people within days.”
She paled dramatically. “You lie.”
“I am telling the truth, and you know it.”
Her fingers convulsed around the hilt of her knife, and she let her arm fall to her side limply.
“Pestilence came after me and my team. He tried to kill us. He tried to kill me. And that was a mistake, because he failed. If he had been content to continue on as he had been, we might have never been able to eradicate the Sickness, without the God of Shaping and Molding to hold him back. But instead, he wanted to crush us completely. He revealed himself. We learned his true nature, and we have a way to defeat him for good. We can kill him, and when we do, unlike a normal god that will simply reform, he will lose his access to the realms of mortals, his power cut off and trapped at its source, the breaks between worlds.” I paused. “This is not a battle that I or any of the Seal of Nine fights alone.”
She scoffed. “Do you wish to ask more of my warriors to fight and die by your side, as they did the last time? I cannot ask that of them again.”
I shook my head. “We have a weapon to defeat Pestilence, and we don’t need the blood of warriors to wield it. I doubt they would be able to survive its effects, since its use depends on the Seal. What we need is power to run it, and every man, woman, and child on Estreyer can contribute to that easily.”
I’d thought we would put together another press conference or an announcement in the coliseum, but Queen Mardinest laughed raggedly when I suggested it. “I think you do not understand the situation here on Estreyer. If your presence was announced, it is likely we would have to deal with several assassination attempts. I was forced to send your human peace delegation back to Earth after the first attempt of that nature was made on one of their members. Oh,” she said, seeing my expression, “some of the people still hold faith in you. But those who have lost faith feel betrayed in the greatest way imaginable. An oathbreaker of such magnitude is anathema. No, we will record your message. You will explain that you have grown fully into your role as a godling,” she raised a derisive eyebrow at my surprise, “and tell them what y
ou told me of Pestilence and your plan to defeat him. My power has been greatly diminished, but I still hold some sway with the people. I will place my honor beside yours.” She turned to me, her eyes narrowing. “If you fail to defeat the Sickness, do not come back alive.”
We followed her plan, and I was back on Earth by the morning, the whole trip much less hassle than I’d been anticipating. Admittedly, I’d encountered very few people during that time, but none of them had tried to spit in my face.
With one more-or-less-ally acquired, I went to the humans next. Their understanding of non-mortal beings and powers that broke the rules of physics as they knew them wasn’t as good, but they felt less personal resentment toward me as the cause of all their woes. When I told them that the cause of the disease was a recently discovered single member of a third alien race, hostile to both humans and Estreyans, and which was actively perpetrating and maintaining said disease, it was easy enough to understand. When I told them I had a way to kill this alien, they asked me what I needed from them.
The Shortcut anchor had been built on what used to be a huge mall parking lot adjacent to a city park. I had them clear away the encampment they’d built there, with as much secrecy as possible, then evacuate the citizens from the surrounding area. Security cameras were shut down. Then, the Remnants came in and got to work, building an arcane circle around the Shortcut anchor, where we would be receiving a huge shipment of fully-charged crystals of various sizes soon, hopefully.
We asked for human weapons that didn’t require electricity to work. We went into the Other Place and set up our battleground. We had more weapons and armor made, catered to the Skills they would be used with. Those Estreyans who were here on Earth, and still wished to work with us, helped with the creation of our battle-plan.
After a couple weeks had passed, we went into the Other Place for one last training session. We could only prepare so long before Pestilence decided to take the initiative again and come after us on his terms, and that would be a disaster. None of us wanted to find ourselves dead in the night, in our beds, without any chance to change anything. I already couldn’t sleep for the tension and the nightmares, and it only grew worse.
I let out a deep breath and watched the water particles within freeze instantly into minuscule fractal snowflakes, too small for the normal human eye to make out. “Is everyone ready?” I asked, looking at my teammates past the dancing branches of condensed Chaos that wove through the air around me.
The dust flakes that the Other Place seemed to produce had grown a lot heavier in the time we’d been training within. Now they fluttered down like thick grey snow, though they still disintegrated immediately upon touching anything.
Adam looked up from his ink constructs, arcs of lightning playing across his skin. “Are you seriously asking that? What will you do if someone says ‘no?’ It’s not like we have a choice here. It’s kill or be killed.”
“I’m ready,” Kris said in her doll-like voice, riding atop one of her new marionettes so she didn’t have to look up from the perspective of someone only two feet high. She clenched her fist, and the bugs darting around dropped from the air and ceased their movement, whatever tiny spirits had been inside them ripped mercilessly out of their bodies.
I wondered what I would do, if some of us died tomorrow. I knew Adam’s words were true, but would it be worth it, even so?
I pulled up my Attribute Window and ran my eyes over the numbers that defined my worth in a fight.
PLAYER NAME: EVE REDDING
TITLE: BEARER OF TESTIMONY
CHARACTERISTIC SKILL: SPIRIT OF THE HUNTRESS, TUMBLING FEATHER
LEVEL: 38
SKILLS: COMMAND, WRAITH, CHAOS, VOICE
STRENGTH: 30
LIFE: 80
AGILITY: 37
GRACE: 31
INTELLIGENCE: 34
FOCUS: 29
BEAUTY: 18
CHARISMA: 39
MANUAL DEXTERITY: 10
MENTAL ACUITY: 31
RESILIENCE: 73
STAMINA: 34
PERCEPTION: 43
Once, when I’d first started as Player, I might have been astounded at the combined value of those numbers. Now, I knew how lacking they were. I could only hope that the nine of us together would be able to match up against Pestilence.
The Summoner, the Gale, the Gifter. The Tracker, the Struggle, the Shadow. The Black Sun, and the Veil-Piercer. We were meant to do this, right? The gods had been preparing us specifically for this fight. I’d originally thought the greater Trials had been completed when we successfully got the nine parts of the Yggdrasil tree to grow, but obviously I’d been wrong.
The Other Place darkened at the edges and contracted around us as the cosmic whale announced its presence. “Have you many stones of energy for me? You will not last against Pestilence even with all your training, if you do not give me another source to pull from as you battle him. Even cut off from his true power, you will need to destroy his body many, many times before he is weakened enough for his existence to be erased from the realms of mortals.”
Gregor snorted at the swirling darkness around our little clearing. “We have a small mountain coming through, according to Queen Mardinest. Just wait. You’ll eat until you get fat.”
The whale thrummed with amusement, and a bit of wistfulness, but beneath it all was the ever-present, ravenous gluttony.
The next day, we set the last bits of the trap. We were as rested as we could be, with the nightmares and the constant stress. We’d gathered a few city blocks away from the Shortcut anchor to wait. The cloud cover was thick and heavy, rolling cumulous masses that hung inert and oppressive above us. Snowflakes drifted down from them lazily, as there was no wind to blow them about. They melted when they touched the ground, and I was reminded of the dust falling in the Other Place.
Adam’s link displayed the news. Specifically, it showed the broadcast of the press release we’d filmed just hours earlier.
“…Symptoms caused by attacks of this third alien race, which is hostile to all life forms,” the link spoke out in a slightly tinny voice. Part of the press conference was to illuminate the unknown, as knowledge was a natural counter to fear. “We have multiple teams working to recreate the cure, and expect to be successful soon.” Part of the press conference was just to forcefully alleviate that fear, so that whatever benefit Pestilence got from it would be lessened. The broadcast went on to warn civilians to stay away from the part of the city we were in, as we were fabricating some very energy-intensive, potentially destructive weapons specifically meant to be effective against the third alien life form. We’d had as many people as possible evacuated already, but I knew we hadn’t found all of them, and some had refused to leave.
On Estreyer, a similar news release meant to threaten Pestilence was being broadcast, while they gathered the last of the Seed-charged crystals. Any moment now, they would be sending them through the Shortcut.
“Do you think this will work?” Zed said, scanning the area around us.
Estreyan warriors, those Remnants with a battle Skill, and a smattering of human soldiers were hidden in the buildings around us.
Our location and some false details of the operation we had planned had been leaked. Anyone determined enough would be able to find us rather easily, hopefully without being tipped off to the trap. With the announcements we’d made, I was sure he would come. When he did, no matter which direction he came from, someone would be there to attack and slow him down. We wanted to make it as difficult as possible for him to reach the Shortcut anchor, mostly so that he didn’t suspect the trap. Just for that, people who’d volunteered to hold him off would probably die. But we needed every advantage we could get. The trap had to work. “He’ll come,” I said, my voice a little softer than I intended, as the words enhanced my trepidation.
Jacky fingered her new gauntlets with the spiked knuckles, clenching her fists and watching as the interlocking pieces shifted. The gauntlets were
Gregor’s idea, and were designed to expand along with her fists when she grew. They were also filled with a few dozen doses of poison that Sam had created, and would release some of that poison whenever she punched something with enough force.
The poison Sam had developed didn’t just put people to sleep or paralyze them. Well, actually, it did both, but it put them to sleep so they wouldn’t have to experience the agony and fear associated with the nerves along their spine being dissolved. Their bodies were literally incapable of movement after the poison did its work, but, as long as they didn’t panic too much, they would continue to breathe and their heart would continue to pump. It was a precaution against Pestilence’s ability to control the bodies of those he had tainted directly, despite otherwise-debilitating injury or unconsciousness, as well as insurance against the chance that he might have been holding back when he attacked us before.
Behind us, the Shortcut anchor glowed, its double helix form lighting up the heavy fog and reflecting off the packed clouds above. Then the crystals arrived, appearing in a small mountain that let off even more light as the displacement wave rolled outward. I sensed a few spatters of still-warm blood over some parts of the mound. Had Pestilence tried to stop the transfer?
We busied ourselves, drawing lines and symbols on the ground in black tar. It would activate an effect for as long as it burned, or that’s what we had purposely let slip, anyway. The symbols we drew didn’t actually have any meaning, but they were close enough to seem like they might. We’d made it very clear–to people we didn’t really trust–that the focal point of this experimental ritual to kill Pestilence was at the Shortcut anchor, and that if something happened to it, or the crystals that had just appeared around it, everything would be ruined.