by J Hawk
He pushed Ion back with their swords and then jumped forth, slashing and jabbing viciously. Ion panted for breath as he propelled himself faster, possibly than ever before, against any opponent. Zardin struck on mercilessly, pushing the boy further and further behind. The rapid clings of their blades meeting filled the room.
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All of a sudden, nothing else existed. Not the world around. Not the passing of time. Everything had suddenly melted into non existence, save for the creature ahead of him. The creature showering Mantra with a violent series of jabs and slashes with his ignited sword, his speed and ferocity brutal. He was all that existed now, and Mantra felt himself merge with him as he fought him off, his own ferocity rising to the shore of his being after eight thousand years.
Redgarn’s powers, his dynamic might, hadn’t slackened an ounce, despite having endured eight thousand years. The two titanic enemies clashed with a violent fury, both of their motions blurred to unrecognisable states: within the passage of half a second, both their swords would have clashed at least ten times. Sparks burst about, spewing the air all over them.
Mantra jumped two steps back as his enemy made a lunging stab at his gut. His eyes were glued to Redgarn’s sword as it came soaring towards him. Feeling the moment run by slowly, Mantra brought his own sword in a sideway swipe, slashing the opponent’s out of the way. A crisp cling, and an explosion of sparks ensued.
Taking a wide step forward, Mantra ran his sword forward … aiming for his chest. But Redgarn’s eyes came flying along his blade, and he took a lazy step backwards that fetched him a moment’s gain. He blocked Mantra’s strike with his own raised sword, growling deep in his throat.
“You should have stayed in Taurandor.” Snarled Mantra, as the two of them stood there rigidly, their sabers clasped. “Now you’ll wish you had.”
“You should have died a painless death while you had the chance.” Hissed Redgarn, his red face twisting in a smile. “Now you’ll wish you had.”
He gave Mantra a sudden, rocky shove backwards, which almost threw him off balance. Half tripping, Mantra fought for control of his ground for a moment, while Redgarn came hurtling at him from in front, the mad blaze of his sword brightening…
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A gang of five Rash-cons came storming at Vestra from around her. Without being prompted by thought, she launched to one side, her black hair flying. Her quick action had saved her from what would have been instant death: as soon as she had jumped, jets of light burst towards her from the robots’ guns, missing her by whiskers. She parried two of the shots which the Rash-cons had sent with re directed aims at her. As they drew near from all five sides, she felt her feet leave the ground. Lunging forward, she sent a sharp, circular wave of her sword. The ignited blade passed the robots’ thick, metallic bodies like they were butter, and they collapsed, lifeless.
She was now at the corner of the giant hall, watching as mayhem tore the entire place apart like strips of paper. Giant chunks of concrete came tumbling upon them in smoking ruins as explosions raged in the upper regions of the temple.
Vestra felt a moment of crazy panic for Qyro and Ion, both of whom had been enveloped by the intensity of the battle, and were now lost from sight. Fighting back the suffocating feeling, she cast her hope out that they were all right. They better be. They have to be…
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Zardin hurled Ion across the room air with the strength of ten men.
Ion felt his body cleave through the air, hurtling at high speed, before crashing through the wall behind him. Pain burst all over him. His shoulders had taken the full impact, and a searing pain seemed to rip through the blades over his shoulders.
His vision had gone murky for a second, and he screwed up his eyes in a tense attempt to regain focus. But even through his groggy vision, the thin black entity that came thundering towards him from across the room was unmistakable. Zardin raised his sword high, the blade’s orange shine slitting through the haziness of his vision.
He’s far too strong … I can’t fight him.
It took Ion all of his will to fight off the dread and get himself to move. Seizing control of his body though the searing pain, he drew himself up and dodged the Xeni menace flying at him. Zardin, who had come hurtling at him with his sword outstretched, missed him as he made a clean sidestep. Ion summoned his mystical powers and held his hand out towards his sword. The sword came soaring into the air, twirling, and landed in his grasp.
A wild orange flash illuminated the corridor as Ion lit his sword. Zardin, who had landed further down the corridor at the speed of his launch, rounded and charged at him.
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Mantra felt a snarl escape him as he opposed Redgarn’s mindless strength, standing his ground. The two of them had their eyes locked even heavier than their blades between them.
“Give it to me.” breathed Redgarn, as the two of them stood rigidly frozen, their sabers locked dead on each other. “Give me the crystal.”
Mantra could feel the crystal lying inside his pocket. He knew that it wouldn’t be long before Redgarn got his hands on it. And he intended to end it before he did.
“We’ve come to re claim what’s rightfully ours,” went on Redgarn, his voice lowered to a soft growl. “And we will most certainly not leave without it.”
“You aren’t leaving at all.” hissed Mantra. “Not alive, that is.”
The shuddering sensation deepened around them, and the blasts grew louder. Faint layers of dust dislodged from the ceiling, drifting down to fill the space around them.
A smile slit Redgarn’s face, turning it inhuman. “You know how hollow your words are, dear man. The temple is falling apart.” He gave an unpleasant, ringing laugh. “You can sense doom sealing its clasp over you. All of you. Like it or not, we will have both the things we came here for: the plague crystal … and the long awaited demise of the brotherhood of Nyon.”
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Zardin moved through the wreck of a place slowly, his footsteps merging with the silence. Deep shudders shook the walls and ceiling, and layers of dust floated down from above. The battle was faring badly for the Nyon.
He kicked aside a broken chair, and pretended to look around the ravaged room in which his target was hiding. Someone too scared to face the horror before him, the horror of reality.
“Come out, Ion.” There was a dangerous simper in his voice, and Zardin didn’t blame Ion at all for not doing as he asked. “Come out and play.”
Continuing to pretend to gaze around the room looking for his target, he walked forth slowly. This hall, or whatever it had been before the battle begun, had been subject to a blast nearby it. What remained of the room was now littered with charred smithereens. The furniture of the room had been tossed towards one side, opposite to where the blast had occurred. Zardin was now roaming through the pillaged remains of the chairs, beds and cupboards lying clumsily over the floor.
The place was supposedly a dormitory room, one that must have been left empty for millennia now. He kicked another chair off the way, and it landed on the broken remains of a cupboard lying by the right.
Ion had done a good job of hiding himself, Zardin admitted. Except…
He spun, and let his hands smash through the broken cupboard lying by the right, pulling out the red haired boy hiding inside of it. Ion gritted his teeth, trying to struggle free as Zardin held him by the front of his robes.
“I’m blind.” Zardin bent forward and whispered. He then smiled. “But I can see … everything.”
Screaming, he turned and hurled Ion across the room with a deadly speed. The boy went flying in an unbroken straight line, then crashed through the wreckage at the other side of the room.
Zardin kicked aside another piece of scrap lying his way lazily, strolling forward carefreely. Ion, who lay buried in the debris across the other end of the room, slowly dug his way out, emerging with a moan of pain.
“You’ve chosen to i
gnore the truth, Ion.” said Zardin, walking forth. “You’ve chosen to ignore where you belong.”
A fresh surge of fury hit Ion: he got to his feet hastily and then stood there, glaring at Zardin with his orange eyes flared.
“I do not belong with you.” He growled.
Zardin smiled at him, stopping a few feet from him. They stood there, feet away, looking at each other, with the air around them seeming to simmer with menace. Another brief trembling broke over the place. And a scream sounded from somewhere far off.
“No,” said Zardin. “I speak of inner belonging, dear boy. And you know there’s that side of you which had controlled you a few years back. That side…” He gave a pleasant nod, his smile curving longer. “That … is the side of your own self that you belong with. That is who you really are, and you know it.”
Ion’s features filled with rage, sweeping away the fear in an instant. He ignited his sword and came hurtling towards Zardin, a wild battle cry tearing from him.
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Mantra panted for breath as he raced down the corridor, hot on his rival’s feet. Redgarn cast a fleeting glance back at Mantra, a demonic grin on his lips. But Mantra was looking at the object he clutched with both hands in front of him. The crystal.
In the midst of the fight, Redgarn had, gaining a sliver of dominance, thrust his hand into Mantra’s pocket and gotten hold of the crystal. Mantra felt his lungs torn, airless, as he sprinted behind the world’s scariest nightmare. Trying to prevent it from coming to life. They can’t leave with the crystal!
They flew past another duel between two cloaked figures with flaming swords clashing at the side of the corridor. Which one was Xeni and which Nyon, it couldn’t be told.
Redgarn reached the end of the corridor ahead, which split into two. He swerved and shot down the left one, with Mantra bursting forth behind him.
A group of Rash-cons were ganging on one of the Nyon, who was backing off to the corridor’s wall at the heavy assault. His blazing sword spun rapidly as he blocked the tirade of shots fired at him. Redgarn streaked on without bothering, while Mantra felled two of the robots just on his way, leaving the others: he knew there was no time to help his comrade any further. Far more had now been put at stake…
Faster … faster. The distance between the two of them was dwindled slowly, as Mantra fuelled his legs with every bit of energy his eight thousand year old body could afford. As they tore forth, the two ancient mystics’ speed would have come close to those of air vehicles. Or even gone beyond it: the two of them were literally pelting down the corridor, and to passers by their bodies would appear nothing more than two swift blurs that zipped by.
Faster! All other thoughts had vaporised in Mantra’s mind, and the one thought of catching his enemy blazed, erasing out all excuses … all bodily pains. He summoned all the strength resting in his old bones and took an enormous leap forward. He felt himself land over Redgarn, and the two of them crashed to the ground, rolling over each other. The crystal slipped off Redgarn’s grip and went bouncing feet away from where they lay in a tangle.
Mantra ignited his sword and plunged it towards the man beneath him.
Redgarn’s eyes blazed, and Mantra was thrown off by a sudden invisible force. He hit the wall of the corridor behind him and Redgarn jumped to the side, his hand reaching for the crystak…
Mantra gave a wave of his hand, and the crystal went skittering a few feet off the Xeni’s grasp. Redgarn cast an angry glance at Mantra. Before he could leap for the crystal again, Mantra ignited his blade and launched over him.
The two of them wrestled amidst the rumbling and the blasts all over them. Their swords twirled at a wild speed, clashing violently as the duo snarled and dodged, jabbed and slashed at each other. Both aiming to kill … sparks burst all around in the air, as their swords met again and again.
The plague crystal lay on the ground by their right, waiting for one of them to strike the other down. Once and for all.
“When we’re done here,” snarled Redgarn, as the two of them broke from the duel and prowled around the room for a brief second. “The only thing remaining of you and your senile brotherhood will be ashes. Our eight thousand year battle has come to an end. Today it ends.”
“The battle was always over, old friend.” Laughed Mantra. “You won – eight thousand years back, when you destroyed what we stood for. When you destroyed Sirengard and its Kingline.”
“And now,” said Redgarn. “I’ll finish the job. I’ll destroy you. All of you. Our conflict has flown off the edges, and today – it returns down to earth.”
Mantra laughed as they continued to cross the room in a circle, locked in a deep glare. “This battle will be anything but down to earth, Redgarn.”
A long pause fell between them as Redgarn considered his words. His lips parted in a grim smile. His voice rumbling in a soft laugh, he said, “You are absolutely right. Let me prove you so. Let’s take this battle,” He held his hand out slowly, as though raising something invisible. “to the skies…”
A magnum shudder ripped apart the entire place, as though of an earthquake. Mantra was knocked off his feet.
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As Zardin prepared to send a furious jab at Ion, it happened.
An untamed quaking seemed to erupt across the entire temple: the walls, floor and ceiling rumbled angrily, and the two of them were thrown off balance. Ion felt himself land sideways on the wall by the right, his sword almost slipping from his grasp.
What in the world’s happening?!
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As though hit by a volcanic quake, the entire structure seemed to vibrate with menace. The Nyon temple’s very mild grounding, and the anchors rigging it to the earth were blasted off by a furious invisible force. The noise of the blast left a loud roar to resonate across the vast green forest. The shattered remains of the grounding went soaring around the temple in a circle. And the temple itself, now quaking harder, slowly rose off the ground…
The gigantic structure floated off the ground, rising higher and higher … The structure’s outer covering rippled in fury, and chunks of the temple’s outer walls were sheared off, flying off to join the circle of debris soaring around it.
The ancient structure rose higher and higher, leaving the ground forever … climbing further and deeper into the realm of the skies … hundred metres … two hundred metes … three hundred … four hundred…
The temple’s outer walls were crushed at the might of the invisible force wrapping around it. Crumpled in giant chunks of debris, they came soaring off to join the flow of circular wreckage around them…
Five hundred metres … Six hundred …
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Ion kept his hands tightly encased around the pillar, his eyes streaming at the blast of the wind … which seemed to come from almost all sides.
What the bloody hell’s happening? His feet having left the ground, his entire body was now hovering in mid air, feet above the ground.
He kept his arms tightly closed around the pillar in the hallway, the only anchor to keep him from flying off at the insane blow of the wind. Whether or not his eyes were deceiving him, he knew not – but when he looked out the window nearby across the wall, he thought he saw the sky outside flowing down … as though they were flying up. The temple seemed to be soaring upwards into the sky. Across the hall, Zardin kept one hand locked around another pillar, the raging wind having lifted him off his feet as well. His face was fixed over Ion, the sword in his free hand still blazing.
Ion felt something unravelling from the logic of what was happening. The temple’s rising into the sky! He thought, bewildered. Is this for real?
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Vestra felt a heavy daze seize her, as she looked out the shattered, broken walls beyond the room she was in.
The temple’s flying?! She blinked, the movement making her eyes water in the force of the gushing wind.
Her entire body lay pressed to the
opposite wall by the surge of the heavy wind, which seemed powerful enough to rip the outer walls off. Her sword, now doused, lay clutched in her right hand. Around her, plastered to the wall, were the shattered remains of the robots she’d been fighting.
The passageway that she had been in was now half torn apart at the other end, and the sky could be seen, clear and blue, with the meanest tinge of red with the onsetting dusk.
This can’t be happening! Once more, she felt a part of the panic swerve in direction, and she hoped everything was all right with Qyro and Ion.
By the look of it, they were now progressing higher and higher into the heavens… beyond the height of even the tallest towers in some cities.
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Eight hundred metes …nine hundred metres…
The temple had zoomed up to a mile above the ground, and it continued to soar up. Relentless. Unyielding.
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“You madman!” bellowed Mantra, clinging hard to the side of the wall with one hand clutching the outpost on it. “You’ve gone senile!”