Manifest

by Cody Whitfill

  Dwik looked like he was close to tears but not one drop left his eyes. He gave a great sniff and stuck out his fist. Gitch gladly bumped it, and that was that. He passed out his few remaining rahzen berries evenly between Dwik and Kraznik, while keeping two for himself. He would have liked the wolves to have had some as well, but there was nowhere for them to store the fruit. As he was sifting through his pouch, he felt a sudden pain in his index finger. It was the stupid sewing needle.

  He looked down on the pointed piece of metal when the thought struck. It was not a very good thought, possibly even terrible, but there was nothing for it. He pulled the needle out of his bag and walked back over to Kraz.

  “I figure your sneak mission will go a lot better if you don’t blow up every enemies you come across. Take this,” Gitch offered him not the sewing needle, but his prized Trident of Dufflin.

  “What? You serious?”

  “Yeah, man. I can always resort to magic, but I think you will need something a little bit heavier in melee combat. Besides, I have this…weapon, just in case,” Gitch said as he held out the sewing needle.

  Kraznik stood up and slightly bowed his head while Gitch uttered the words to soul bind the trident back over to the imp. Once done, the two embraced as true friends oft to do, and that was that. They spent the rest of the time talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company.

  Gitch would have liked for it to have lasted longer, but they were soon ushered to their feet to take their places in the trees. Gitch wished them all luck, gave Alpha a good scratching, and left with his squad.

  They were still in the cover of the trees, but only just. When everyone was in position, the three fairy master mages moved forward. They wove their hands together and chanted loudly. Sparks of energy shot from their bodies, but they did not stop or stall in their casting. A building sense of power could be felt, and Gitch’s own golden hair stood on end.

  With a final shout, two of the fairy masters pointed their arms at the fortress barely visible through the trees, while the third released the powerful spell. A giant green ball shot forth just as dozens of whistles screamed along the front line. As one, they charged ahead through the trees.

  Gitch popped out on the other side facing a crystal blue lake. It was very large, and only the thinnest of stone walkways bridged their side with the lone mountain on the far end. A dark wall spanned across the mouth of a wide gorge, which appeared to lead deeper into the mountain itself. Just behind the wall, Gitch could make out three watch towers, but little else. The mountain shadow blocked much from view.

  As he stood there staring, the magical boulder slammed into the wall, just south of the massive black gate. Molten rock dripped down, streaming towards the lake, and all that was left of the impact point was a gaping hole. The resulting sound had been deafening, even from nearly half a mile away. Gitch thought it safe to say that they had successfully grabbed their foe’s attention.

  He saw blue fairies, all the blue fairies, dive into the water. Seeing as he never saw them resurface, Gitch assumed those water mages had the ability to breathe underwater. Gitch would have been envious had he not loved flying so much. Wings beat gills any day of the week, twice on Sunday.

  He was about to lift off into the sky with the rest of his squad, but he saw a score of brown fairies enter the water just behind their blue counterparts. They didn’t dive, so much as jump. He had no idea their specialization, but was curious enough to find out. He could almost hear Dwik’s voice screaming inside his head, “DO NOT HESITATE IN BATTLE!” Fake Dwik could shove it. He wanted to know what happened next.

  The fairies began to change, with almost all increasing in size. Heads snapped back, arms extended, legs fused together… it was gross, but he found it impossible to turn away. Their transformation only took two or three seconds, and he was soon staring at a lake full of narwhals, octopuses, a hippo, various other beasts he had no name for, and-oh dear god! It was a baby shark. Now he would have that dang song stuck in his head the ENTIRE battle, or at least until he was mercifully killed.

  Gitch leapt into the air and shot off toward the rest of the flying raiders. They had arrayed themselves in a sad excuse of a formation, five fairies tall and 18 or so long. These players were not trained soldiers. Their lines looked more like spaghetti noodles, but the intent was there.

  Gitch saw a few of his squad members on the far right. He pushed a few extra points of mana into his wings, and sped ahead to take his place among them. Chaka had an irritated look on her face when she saw him pull up, but at least she didn’t berate him for tardiness.

  They made it a quarter of the way across before the imps mounted any sort of defense. Gitch had figured it was only a matter of time. Surely, they wouldn’t let them fly up to the gates unhindered, but he was still dreading it.

  He saw a dozen dark shapes launch into the air from atop the wall. He at first thought they were imps, but they were speeding towards the fairies far too fast and becoming larger with each passing second. There were no wings, legs, or even arms, just one giant mouth attached to an 8-foot tail.

  “GRABOIDS!” came a shout to his left.

  “Graboids live under ground. They can’t fly!”

  “Some do!”

  “Idiot!”

  “Moron!”

  “Dumb git!”

  “I don’t give a damn. Their freaking here!”

  “No cursing!” (Gitch wasn’t about to let a perfectly good experience bonus go to waste.)

  “Help me, Kevin Bacon! You’re my only hope!”

  “You pea-brained doofuses! Those aren’t Graboids! Those are exploding slugs!” shouted Chaka.

  “Slugs can fly?”

  “Slugs can explode?!”

  “Scatter!”

  “Every fairy for himself!”

  “I’m a her!”

  Fairies flew off at every angle, with several turning-tail and flying back from whence they came. Chaka commanded her squad to fly higher and warned of very nasty things happening to their various extremities should any of them decide to retreat from battle. They would have followed her any way, but she had a way of making them hop to it in a hurry.

  Gitch was immeasurably glad to have someone like Chaka leading his team. Her quick thinking had saved them from one of the very loud, and very powerful, explosions that ripped through the raider lines. The slugs detonated from within and sent their outer stone-shell exploding outward like the deadliest of shrapnel. Any caught within its blast were instantly obliterated, and those flying within a 20-foot radius stood a good chance of being hit by some serious debris.

  A dozen concussive blasts echoed around the lake. Gitch’s head was filled with a near constant ringing, but the crying and screaming were impossible to tune out. Looking below, he saw gaping holes in the spaghetti line formation. Perhaps a dozen fairies, maybe two, simply ceased to exist. They were the lucky ones who would instantly respawn back in town. A fate the wounded now wished for terribly.

  Those with spells of healing rushed to those in need as blood dripped from the sky like rain. Fairies on the edges of each gap were missing arms, hands, even legs. Most were saved, but not all. The screams of fairies falling to their deaths, wings torn apart, or completely riddled with holes, would haunt each and every one of them. The sight was horrible. Terrible, and yet there was just one thing he couldn’t get out of his head. It built up within him to such a degree that he could no longer keep it in. With a loud voice, he sang, “Baaaby shark doo doo doo doo doo doo…”

  Was that normal in battle? Something might be seriously wrong with him. Apparently, the fairies flying next to him agreed as they scooted another foot or two over from him. Was crazy contagious?

  He shrugged; it was his way of coping with the atrocities he was now seeing. One thing was certain. Battle was loud. Battle was messy. Battle sucked… Battle was needed. As terrible as what he saw, heard, and even smelled was, he knew they couldn’t fail. He was determined to see this through, and
when the rallying cry was issued forth, he screamed as loud as any one of them.

  Atop the fortress wall, slugs could be seen being fitted into 1 of 12 different contraptions that vaguely resembled medieval ballistas. The imps were readying another salvo of suicide bombers for launch. Gitch could tell the fairies needed to get a move on, and apparently leadership agreed.

  “MOVE IT, YOU FLABBY FLAPPERS!”

  “SPREAD OUT! GET TO THE WALL!”

  Gitch flew east with the rest of the raiders but did not drift too far from his own squad. They made it half way across the lake before the next salvo struck. It was not nearly as destructive as the first, but they were still not without casualties. He saw a piece of slug decapitate a lavender fairy to his right, and a green fairy below him lost a wing. He heard some more screaming, evidence of further injury, but they didn’t stop this time. They needed to make it to the wall as quickly as possible, but he did see a golden fairy hold back and heal those wounded in the latest batch of boom. He wished he knew her name, this seemed like a fairy worth knowing.

  They made good time, but the imps were able to launch one more volley. Whether by luck (Ha!), Dufflin’s intervention (not likely), or just because the imps sucked at aiming, only one slug hit home that time. Unfortunately, that one slug was enough to annihilate an entire squad who had been unable to evade the blast. Gitch wasn’t sure whether to weep or leap at seeing the number of fairies who had survived the lake crossing. He pegged their survivors at 60 or so. The explosions could have completely wiped them out, but their forces still seemed completely underwhelming when faced against the formidable black wall before them.

  Gitch could see the top of the wall was now completely devoid of both slug and imp, though the dark ballistas still remained. One foolhardy, red fairy zoomed ahead and passed over the wall to see what lay on the other side. He didn’t get very far before he let out a scream and tumbled forward. His plummet down was not swift. He kept bouncing off some invisible thing on his way down, and each time, the poor fairy’s screams would reach new heights. The fairy finally landed on the other side of the wall, at which point Gitch heard a loud cackling as the screaming came to an abrupt halt.

  It was only when a yellow fairy cast a light over the expanse above that they saw hundreds of near invisible razor wires crisscrossing between the two sides of the gorge. It would be impossible for the raiders to fly through that web of death, let alone fight and maneuver.

  A deep rumble echoed from behind the wall, and the thick metal gate began to slowly rise. The queen wasted no time and flew forward to address their hated foe directly.

  “Let it be known, we fairies will no longer suffer evil to reside in the Dufflin Forest. As queen of the Fae, I swear to you that this day will be your last! YOU HAVE MET YOUR DOOM, YOU PUNY TRIBE OF ABYSSAL PUS BAGS!”

  She ended with a wave of her hands, and 10 small spheres of pulsating energy circled around her head before condensing into one, writhing mass of power. With a point, she willed it forward, sending it charging toward the gate. The first imp had just peeked through; a look of pure terror shone brightly on his dejected face. The spell landed just inside a moment later, and a massive shockwave rattled the entire wall. Great flames issued out of the entrance. Burning imps raced out to dowse themselves in the lake. They made it perhaps 10 feet before they were cut down by the vengeful fairies hovering above.

  Gitch spared a glance at the queen as she sent another death ball hurtling through the opening. He added her to his mental list of people never to piss off… again. He was still hoping his little quest idea would work itself out, but he could worry about that later. It was time to fight! Everywhere he looked, another imp was falling from the sky, or turned to ash, or even fought their own kind.

  There were two additional gates at the top of the large wall which sat flush against either side of the gorge. These began to roll open as well, and a flood of imps poured out. A steady stream also leaked out of the hole left behind by the magical boulder, though far less than those passing through the gates. Some of the imps had those wicked looking daggers, but most were armed with only their teeth and claws. Unfortunately, he knew full-well that those were more than enough to get the job done.

  The raiders cast their spells as fast as they could, but were unable to stem the tide. Gitch saw what must have been an entire flock converge on a pair of fairies that had strayed too far away from the main group. Dozens of fairies were cut off from the main army. Many of these died from the outstretched arms of the imps, but the rest perished simply by expending too much mana in their efforts to escape.

  Traveling at top speed for too long was a sure-fire way for your mana pool to reach zero. For a fairy, no more mana meant no more life. It was a constant game of balance, which many were now losing.

  The raiders had spread themselves thin when evading the exploding slugs, bringing now the deadliest of consequences. With each passing second, more fairies were brought down by the outstretched arms of the imp horde.

  There were thousands of them flying through the sky, and the speed bonus began to matter less with each passing moment. It reminded him of that scene in 300. The one with the arrows blotting out the sun. It was like that, but the arrows had a brain. And claws. And teeth. He knew the history of the battle of Thermopylae… He was hoping for a better outcome here.

  Chapter 25

  “To me! To me! Solidify and defend!” screamed one fairy near the center of their forces. Gitch thought it might have been one of the Fae masters, but if it was safer than his current position, he really didn’t give a flying barnacle who uttered the call.

  He flew in the general direction of the voice, weaving between imp and fairy alike. He had almost made it a make-shift fairy perimeter when he felt a strong hand grip his ankle and pull him down. He looked back and saw an imp with a savage smile, tongue hanging out with anticipation. Claws pierced his pink flesh, and he let loose a cry of both surprise and pain.

  YOU HAVE SUFFERED 36 PHYSICAL DAMAGE!

  Congratulations! Cloth Armor has increased to level 2!

  +4% effectiveness of cloth armor

  This was not a skill Gitch was enthusiastic about leveling up. The imp pulled, and Gitch knew if he didn’t do something quick, he would find himself back in the glade much sooner than he anticipated. He brought back his free foot, and with all six points of strength, stamped down hard. The imp’s face shattered as he began his quick decent. Gitch shouted in triumph as he wiped away a notification signaling the death and subsequent experience earned. There was no time for that now.

  He turned back around and began flying towards the commanding voice once more when he noticed something was off. The dead imp had taken a piece of Gitch with him. Something much more valuable than flesh or blood. He confirmed it as he watched the imp’s body flip end-over-end through the air, giving Gitch a perfect view of the devil’s mouth. Wedged within the broken jaw of the corpse was one beautiful, chimpunk moccasin! Now he knew why Reigh sold them individually. Friggin luck!

  It became impossible to move in further. Every living fairy was doing his or her best to squeeze into one another in an attempt to remove any gaps in their waning defense. It was a cluster in every sense of the word. Gitch couldn’t tell how many of the Fae were left, but their defensive sphere would not last much longer.

  He spotted Kraznik not too far off, and his heart sank. He was glad his friend was still alive, but if the imp was still here, that meant his team hadn’t penetrated the base and all of this had been for naught. That was unacceptable, but there was nothing he could do to change the fact. They were trapped in a shrinking sphere with ever dwindling numbers. All hope seemed lost, which was why he found it very confusing when the imps began to peel off.

  They kept a healthy distance and began flying circles around the raiders. They were traveling at extreme speeds to avoid being hit, but the imps made no effort to attack. Gitch and his fellow warriors were smack-dab in the middle of a swirling black maelstro
m of imp. A storm only a Quaid or Paxton would dare brave.

  He was as confused as anyone at this new turn of events, but still thankful for the moment of respite as he let his mana bar fill back up. They continued in that manner for quite some time. The fairies continued to cast their magic, with only the queen and her master mages actually landing an attack. After a minute or so went by, which felt much longer in battle, the queen had had enough.

  “Fight you cowards!” she screamed at the imps while unleashing her deadliest spell yet. Lightning shot forth from her fingertips and charged into the nearest imp. He seized up and fell from the sky, but not before the lightning streaked out of him to find a new target, and then another, and another, and another...

  A hundred imps fell from the sky from that one attack and a loud cheer went up among the Fae, but Gitch’s voice was not among them. He was staring at Queen Tibura’s taxed face. That spell had nearly drained her, and he was confident there would not be another. Still, this was not all that drained him of hope.

  Gitch caught a glimpse of them through a gap in the imp-nado. They sat on wooden platforms, carried by four separate imps due to their great size. He couldn’t tell how many platforms there were, but even one might spell game-over for the Fae. He knew that if he didn’t act swiftly, there would be no fairy survivors on this bloody day.

  Gitch quickly took off one of his thick woolen arm bands and wrapped it around his head so that it covered both his mouth and nose. It was so tight he could hardly breath. Good. He next took a gloop fruit out of his pouch and smashed it against the arm band covering much of his face, nearly breaking his own nose in the process. He really didn’t know his own strength. The blood mixed with the gloop, making it very hard for Gitch to breathe. This actually worked to his benefit. He tried putting the other arm band over the first, but it was not exactly elastic and he soon gave up. One would have to do.