“Staying silent, huh?” Khiana observed. “You did the same in your previous duels. Barely a word unless you were speaking to your pet.”
The man stretched casually and glanced at the water elemental drifting above them. “I can’t say that I blame you. It’s difficult to speak candidly with so many watching.” He sighed. “In that case, we may as well go ahead and get started.”
As he finished speaking, the air mage’s fingers began to wind through a complicated pattern. Within only moments, forks of electricity arced through the air around him, condensing to a fine point before exploding forward. Despite his jumbled thoughts, Finn was prepared to avoid the attack – to dodge to the side or raise his armored limbs to block most of the blast.
However, he stared in surprise as the lightning arced wildly, spearing directly up into the air. The bolt struck the water elemental directly, and the blast blew apart the globe of water, creating a shower of electrified droplets that rained down upon the snow with a sparkle of energy.
What the hell?
Khiana was now staring at Finn, his eyes glowing with a brilliant azure light. Yet he made no move to attack. Instead, he stood still, as though he were waiting for something.
Finn didn’t have to wait long to discover Khiana’s purpose.
The snowbanks on either side of the field shimmered and shifted, the illusion melting away to reveal two rows of mages. By Finn’s estimate, there were roughly twenty of them, and they represented a wide range of affinities – at least if the multi-colored glow around their staves and wands was any indication. From amid the pack, Finn saw a familiar face emerge.
Lamia.
The water mage master strode forward until she stood with Khiana, staring coldly at Finn as her eyes blazed with sapphire energy. “You did well,” Lamia said, laying a hand on the air mage’s shoulder. “And you will be rewarded for your efforts.”
Finn barked out an inadvertent laugh, the sound echoing harshly through the icy field. It just seemed so silly and obvious. Of course, Lamia had been rigging the competition. He had suspected it all along. And now her plan was obviously to slay Finn here, allow Khiana to emerge the victor, and finally achieve whatever grand scheme she had in mind.
After everything he had endured, it was just too much.
The water mage’s eyes widened at his reaction, suddenly uncertain.
That only served to make Finn laugh harder. After his exchange with the Seer, the whole thing seemed absurd.
“I don’t know what you find so amusing,” Lamia snapped at him. “You will die here in this field and then you will be stripped of your mana and expelled—”
“Into the sands, I know,” Finn interjected, wiping at his eyes. “Believe it or not, I’ve heard that line before. From you. Several times. If you’re open to accepting feedback, I’d try to think up a new threat. Vary it a little, you know.”
Rage flickered across Lamia’s face, barely contained. “It is just this sort of arrogance that proves why the travelers cannot be trusted to represent the guild – to represent our kind.”
Finn’s brow furrowed at her words, but he was watching Lamia’s face – her body language. He wasn’t even certain what he was looking for. Maybe some sort of clue that would give away that this was just a digital illusion? His thoughts kept returning to his conversation with the Seer. Was this all scripted? A play acted out for his benefit? Or was Lamia’s xenophobia genuine?
“What right do you have to our world? To rule over our people?” she demanded, becoming angrier as Finn held his tongue. “Have you lived here? Grown up here? Struggled for power and earned your place among us?
“You are invaders. Arrogant and stupid. Ignorant of our ways and yet demanding of our gifts and knowledge. We cannot accept this,” Lamia snapped at him, gesturing at the other mages. As she grew more upset, fragments of ice began to materialize in the air around her, the mana sliding through her veins automatically responding to her emotions.
Finn couldn’t tell if Lamia sincerely felt that anger or not. There was no obvious tell that gave away her inhumanity. No repetitive dialogue. No twitch or stutter. And he had to admit that her reasoning did make sense. As she spoke, he also observed the tension in the other mages. The way they tightened their grip on their weapons, the way their eyes skittered between him and Lamia. Their chests rose and fell as they breathed. Their feet shifted anxiously in the snow. These were human movements and human reactions.
Is it real? That question kept rebounding through his mind. That was all that mattered to him right now. Not Lamia’s betrayal. Not his imminent death.
The answer to that question was more important to him than anything.
“What is wrong with you?” Lamia barked. “Why do you stand there quiet and unconcerned? You are going to die here. Everything you have worked toward will be stripped from you.”
Finn just shook his head. “I’ve already lost everything,” he murmured.
Lamia snorted derisively. “Fine. Then you certainly won’t mind if we take your life.”
At her signal, the two rows of mages began to conjure a legion of magical projectiles – flaming balls of fire, arcs of electricity, and shards of ice were soon pulled from the air and began floating beside each caster. The missiles were all targeted at Finn, a lone man standing against a firing line of mages.
Finn knew he should feel afraid, angry, upset. But he only felt confused. His fire mana simmered in his veins, but it felt weak, barely more than embers of its former fiery glory. It seemed to be affected by his doubt and uncertainty.
The first wave of projectiles launched forward, the energy rippling and contorting in the air and the elemental energies crashing into one another in their headlong rush toward Finn. Weeks spent in relentless training had his fingers moving on their own, summoning his daggers and slicing the missiles from the air as he danced through the snow.
He dodged and shifted, his feet kicking up a fine, cold powder. Finn ducked one missile, sliced another in half, leaped into a roll and landed back on his feet, turning to absorb a blast of lightning along his shoulder. He felt the shield being blown away, the energy arcing around his armor, searing his robes, and leaving burning welts along his skin.
Finn felt the pain, although it was dull. Muted. Not as sharp or biting as the real thing. That was a tell. It was a giveaway that this was all fake.
At the same time, was that really good evidence? He knew that was intentional. That was simply a rule of this world. Like gravity or entropy – a natural law programmed into the fabric of this universe.
Besides, regardless of degree, was the pain he experienced in his world any less ‘real?’ It was the same response. Neurons firing somewhere in his brain. The same could be said of his sight, his hearing, his sense of touch and smell – the heat he felt as a Fireball raced past or the flash of light from a blast of electricity.
Was any of this less real than what he experienced in his world?
Another shard of ice rocketed toward him, and Finn barely avoided the frozen lance. The missile cut a line across his cheek, blood welling from the wound. He spun and twisted to avoid a spear of earth and stone that suddenly jutted from the ground, kicking off the column of rock to avoid another Ice Bolt.
The back of his hand wiped at his face and came away wet with his own blood. It felt warm on his skin. It wasn’t enough. His senses could be manipulated. They wouldn’t give him the proof he needed – give him the answers he so desperately needed.
His eyes centered on Lamia and the other mages. What was going on behind their eyes? Did they think, feel, care, love, and fear? And yet he knew that this was a hopeless exercise. The Seer was right. He was asking her to prove the impossible – to prove a negative. He wanted her to show him that she wasn’t fake.
The barrage of magic relented for a moment, and Finn stood there, breathing heavily. Half-melted puddles and columns of earth littered the area around him. The snow had been blasted away from the force of the elemental
energy that had been hurled at him, creating a circular patch of muddy water and stone. Finn’s body was covered in injuries. Blood trickled down his cheek and dripped from his fingers. His armor was nearly gone, only a few fragments of the molten energy still clinging to his left arm.
“Just give in,” Lamia’s voice called out. “Give up. This is hopeless.”
Finn looked at her with bleary eyes, trying to decipher her words. That was indeed how he had felt after Rachael was taken from him – and exactly what he had done.
He had given up.
Instead of answering Lamia, Finn recast his Magma Armor, the warm substance sliding down his arms as he reassumed a defensive stance and his knives orbited him slowly. The mages in the field shuffled in the snow, eyeing each other uncertainly. Finn wasn’t really fighting back, but at the same time he had survived their combined barrage. He could see their thoughts painted on their faces. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go down.
Finn was supposed to beg. To plead. To succumb to their power.
Lamia ground her teeth together. “So be it. We’ll do this the hard way.”
Another gesture and the mages around her began to summon a second barrage of missiles. This time, they didn’t hold anything back, the energy soon growing so dense that Finn could only make out indistinct flashes of orange, yellow, and blue. He knew he couldn’t dodge everything they planned to throw at him.
As he stared his death in the face, the Seer’s question echoed in his mind.
How do you know I’m not real?
The truth was that he didn’t.
Tears budded at the corners of his eyes and Finn squeezed them shut. It was just too painful to admit that. That meant that it was possible to bring Rachael back.
He had gone so long without hope that even the faintest ember burned to the touch. What if he was wrong? Could he endure that sort of pain again? Or would it finally break him beyond redemption?
He knew he had a choice to make. Right now.
Was he going to attempt to live again? To fight to reclaim Rachael – or whatever version of her that the Seer might offer. Or would he give up right here? His character might die in-game, but he knew with sudden certainty that his death would be real.
Before he had entered this world, he hadn’t been living. He had merely been existing, a robot walking through the same mechanical steps each day. Had he been any different than a machine? The NPCs in this world were more alive than that husk of a human being. Going back to that was as good as death – a self-inflicted purgatory.
As that thought echoed through his mind, Finn felt something shift inside him. A sudden resolve flared in his chest – a willingness to try. To give life one more shot.
Behind his eyelids, he saw a small spark ignite in the darkness. That spark turned to a flame, fragile and tender at first, licking at the air cautiously. He could hope again, it whispered. He could love again. It was a chance. A possibility.
I could see Rachael again.
So, he took a breath and leapt.
Finn grasped at the flame with everything he had, focusing on that lone point of light amid the darkness. He fed the flames his memories of Rachael and he didn’t hold back this time. The pain at her loss. His rage, anger, and frustration. His regrets for days spent on work instead of with her. Lost plans and untested futures. He fed the flames his love.
He gave himself over to the fire – heart, body, and soul.
The flame soon grew, the inferno expanding outward until it had driven out the darkness. The energy burned through his veins until it felt like his blood was boiling, and his entire body was on fire. When he felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, he opened his eyes, and they blazed with a fire so hot that it burned bright white.
For a moment, Finn was confused. The elemental missiles still hung in the air, but the mages stood frozen and unmoving, simply staring at him.
Finn suddenly realized what they were looking at.
His robes had burned away, the tattoo on his right arm scorching through the fabric and the ink twining across his skin and creeping across his torso. At the same time, the lines had changed color, now glowing with a white-hot light.
“The Mark of the Crone? It can’t be…” Lamia murmured.
A notification suddenly crashed down into Finn’s vision, the notice itself engulfed in flames that seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat.
System Notice: Mark of the Crone
You have accepted the Seer’s offer, embracing the flames. They have purged and purified your mind – giving you renewed purpose and freedom from the shackles of your old life. You have been reborn in fire, forged in adversity, and let loose upon this world as the avatar of flame.
The Mark of the Crone has been activated, feeding off the passion you have inspired in others and empowering you for a short time. However, all gifts come with a price. If the flames are not released within five minutes, they will consume you, destroying your body.
+500 Intelligence
+500 Willpower
+200 Dexterity
Increased Fire Magic Affinity (temporarily set to 100%)
All skills temporarily set to grandmaster
“Consider this a token of good faith – a taste of what you could become. Eliminate your enemies, burn them where they stand, and let your flames roar into the sky, sending a message for all to see.” – The Seer
“Kill him,” Lamia screamed at the other mages, knocking them out of their shocked stupor. As one, they released the barrage of missiles. A rainbow tidal wave of destruction rippled across the landscape, rolling and tumbling. It burned, crackled, and hissed. When it struck, a massive explosion of energy fountained into the air, causing the clouds overhead to swirl around the column and creating a vortex of loose vapor.
As the energy slowly cleared, the mages held their collective breath.
A ball of molten lava stood where Finn had once been, like a fiery egg laid upon the frozen plain. Slowly, the shell unfolded to reveal that Finn hung suspended inside. The magma shifted and retracted until it slid back up along Finn’s arms and his feet touched the ground once more. As the substance finally settled, spikes of magma still dotted his limbs and caused the air to ripple and warp from the heat.
“Daniel,” Finn murmured, his eyes blazing.
The AI flashed into existence beside him, although he seemed to hesitate in shock at Finn’s transformation. “Um… sir?”
“Highlight all targets in my UI and then get out of the way,” Finn instructed. The AI didn’t argue this time, flashing once and backing away quickly.
Suddenly, all of the mages on the field were illuminated in a soft blue glow. At the same time, Finn muttered another word, “Icarus.”
It was his turn to retaliate.
And he knew just how to do it.
Finn unfurled the package that Julia had given him, a bundle of throwing knives that landed on the ground with a thump. Then he began to create something new – his mind frothing with excitement. His fingers blurred, moving so quickly that the friction caused sparks to form in the air. This was a grandmaster spell, eight full lines of incantations highlighted in his system UI – the word cloud on the right side of the interface struggling to keep up as Finn picked out the phrases.
As he brought a new spell into the world, pockets of flames began to erupt in the air around him, dancing and spinning in a dazzling display. The other mages looked on wide-eyed at the amount of mana being funneled into the air.
“Stop him!” Lamia shouted, her hands already moving as a massive meteor of ice and snow began to collect in the sky above her. “Attack before he casts.”
They summoned more missiles, and the air mages among them dashed forward, trying to teleport into range in a vain attempt to interrupt Finn’s spell. Yet the heat around Finn had grown oppressive, the air practically boiling and forcing them backward. More mages shot missiles in his direction, but Finn knocked aside the few that made it past the aura of heat with a c
asual grace, his armor easily deflecting the blows.
Then Finn finished his new spell, and his UI prompted him for a name.
“Last Dance,” Finn whispered.
Fire suddenly engulfed all the throwing knives, at least two dozen blades lifting into the air simultaneously and drifting around Finn in a whirlwind of steel and flame. Unlike Finn’s standard Imbue Fire, they glowed white, the heat so intense that it was melting the metal of the blades. They wouldn’t last long at this rate.
But Finn didn’t need them to.
He raised his head to look at the other mages, and he saw more than one stumble backward, fear shining in their eyes. Yet he was beyond caring about that anymore. He was committed. He had embraced the flames. He had a goal now, and nothing and no one would stand in his way.
Finn didn’t even need to move.
He directed his blades forward, the faint translucent line that marked his control range now ringing the entire field. The blades arced forward in a blaze of flames – racing through the air like miniature meteors. They struck at the mages with a ferocity and strength that was terrifying. More than one mage struggled to block the attacks, summoning walls of earth or ice. Yet the blades simply skittered around or blasted through these obstacles before cutting into flesh. They severed limbs and melted bone.
Screams soon rose into the air, a discordant symphony of pain and fear as Finn cut down the mages around him to the flash of flames and the spray of crimson blood. A knife stabbed through one woman’s throat. Another decapitated a fleeing mage – the flames immediately cauterizing the wound. Another absorbed a blast of lightning while a second cut the offending air mage’s hand off at the wrist. Finn cut and burned until nothing was moving, and stillness descended upon the field.
Within the span of minutes, only two people remained standing.
Lamia looked to her side where Khiana struggled on the ground. His arm had been severed at the shoulder – his knives now strewn about the ground. He sucked in a sharp breath as another of Finn’s blades embedded itself in his chest, burning his lungs from the inside out. Then he went still.
Awaken Online: Ember (Tarot #1) Page 43