by Aaron Oster
Even if her enemies had come up with a few theories, they would never be entirely sure. It also helped that she tended to use her skills in a way that made them appear to be something different, and there was also the fact that both her abilities were so rare that no one would have guessed, even if they had had the chance to study her.
The lead attacker tossed their net, and in her mind’s eye, Elyssa saw where it would land. Her hand snapped out, and a simple flick of her fingers caused the air directly in front of it to be displaced, throwing its aim off by just a couple of inches. The next net came sailing in an instant later, and another gesture threw this net off course as well. Then, she focused on the attacker, inhaling a huge lungful of air and taking a single step forward.
She exhaled sharply, stomping down and causing a section of the ground – the one the attacker was currently on – to jerk upwards, slanting down toward her. Taken completely by surprise, the assassin was hurled forward and right into the fist Elyssa had thrown as soon as she’d disrupted the ground.
The assassin’s head was blown to pieces, just as both nets landed harmlessly to either side of her. They didn’t land without doing any damage, but it wasn’t the sort that the assassins had been hoping for. Two attackers who were going for Hilda suddenly found their legs snared by the nets. Before they could so much as react, Hilda’s swift attacks ended their assassination attempts.
Several more assassins came at them, but with the two women working together, they made short work of them. Elyssa did note several small oddities that someone of a lesser intellect would miss. She noticed the small nodes meant to send surges of lightning through the nets they’d brought, and that the outfits that the assassins wore were all padded with layers of impact-resistant gel. Whoever had thought this attack out had done their research and equipped the assassins with the best tools to take her out.
Of course, none of that would help, as neither of those things would slow her down, but it meant that whoever had sent the assassins was smart. They’d made several crucial errors, though she didn’t think that their next attempt would fail quite so badly. And, yes, she was positive that there would be another attempt.
The last of the assassins tried to flee, most likely to go and give a report, but Hilda crossed the distance between them in a flash and shattered their spine. They let out an agonized cry of pain, then fell to the ground, unmoving.
“Are there any others?” Elyssa asked, still staying on guard.
She hadn’t sensed any of them coming, but Hilda had, which meant that she either had amazing senses or a sensory skill of some type.
“Not that I can see,” she answered, taking a quick look around. “Now, care to tell me how this could have ended the alliance, instead of inciting a war?”
“Easy,” Elyssa said, moving over to the semi-conscious but still living form of the assassin lying at Hilda’s feet. “They weren’t trying to kill you. They only wanted to injure you. If I were to be found dead and you were injured but still alive, they would assume it was you who killed me. In that case, the alliance would most definitely have fallen apart.
“In my absence, the closest successor would be a third cousin of mine. A third cousin I am sure is already either working with or a puppet of whoever sent these assassins.”
She buried the toe of her boot into the assassin’s ribs, flipping them onto their back.
“Do you have any idea who sent them?” Hilda asked, her voice somber.
“Oh, I’ve got a guess,” she said, crouching and tearing the mask from the man’s head.
It was an elf, just as she’d suspected, but that meant nothing. Their attackers had come from all races, just to try and throw them off, should she survive. But Elyssa was good at getting answers out of people, even if they didn’t know they were giving her the truth.
“Are you going to tell me who sent you?” she asked, glaring down at the assassin. “Was it the trolls?”
The assassin coughed once, then gave her a bloody grin.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he wheezed.
“It was the gnomes,” she said, rising from her crouch.
She’d already suspected as much, but the assassin’s reaction to her question eliminated the trolls as suspects.
“Wait…I never said that!” the elf sputtered, further cementing that fact in her mind.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be plenty receptive to telling us exactly what you meant, once we get our torturers on the job.”
“Go to hell!” the assassin yelled, then slammed his jaw shut.
There was an odd cracking sound, and in an instant, Elyssa understood what had happened.
“No!” she yelled, ripping the man’s mouth open and shoving her fingers inside.
But it was too late. The elf gasped a few times, then the poison he’d swallowed forced his airways shut, while simultaneously attacking his nervous system. He would be dead within minutes, and there was no way for them to revive him, even if they somehow managed to get a healer here in time.
“Damn,” Hilda said, watching the elf’s face going purple. “He must be pretty dedicated to do something that stupid.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Elyssa said, blowing out an annoyed breath. “I already know who did this, though that doesn’t solve our problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I accuse the gnomes of trying to assassinate me, they’ll have the grounds to declare war. If they choose to attack, the trolls will join in as well. Seeing a war coming, the beastmen will likely retreat, not wanting to be involved, and only when a clear winner is decided will they pick a side. Regardless of who wins, millions will die, and that is something I’d like to avoid.”
“What are you going to do?”
Elyssa sighed, looking down at her ruined, muddied and blood-spattered dress.
“I’m going to take a bath. After that, I’ll call a meeting with my other allies and discuss our options. In the meantime, I’ll send someone down here to clean up this mess. You would also be wise to go check up on the younger girl. She may need your aid.”
“Oh, Grace is fine. She’s got better protection with her than I could ever provide,” Hilda said, looking around the once-beautiful garden. “I don’t get why they would send such weak assassins to try and kill you.”
“They didn’t,” Elyssa replied. “Not a single one of them was below the old maximum of 50. They simply weren’t expecting the two of us to put up much of a fight. Remember, I’m perceived as a spoiled princess, and as a human, they would assume you were worse than garbage and not worth the air you breathed.”
“Ouch. That hurts my feelings,” Hilda said. “But it also makes me feel a lot better about killing them all.”
Elyssa just nodded, forcing herself to keep her composure. Had she been alone, this fight could have ended very differently. With Hilda, especially after seeing her opening move, she’d set their chances at 88%. However, without someone to guard her back, her chances dropped to an abysmal 52%. Sure, they had no idea what her strengths and weaknesses were, but without Hilda here, she’d never had sensed them in time and would have been on the back foot from the outset.
Plus, with no one watching her back, she’d have been vulnerable. She would have been forced to continually shift her focus between her attackers and wouldn’t have enough time to finish any of them off before she was forced to disengage and face another one.
These attackers had been strong, the ambush had been well-set, and she had no doubt that they’d be trying again. Something needed to change between now and then, but right now, she needed some time to decompress and think.
“Come on,” she said, gathering up her torn skirts and heading away from the grisly scene. “Let’s get out of here. The stench is starting to get to me.”
37
Morgan fell to his hands and knees, panting hard as blood dripped to the ground from the new gash in his cheek. Several feet away, the guardian lay dead, its lifeless eyes staring ou
t toward the Soul Well. A silver spear protruded from the back of its neck, the haft visible right beneath the base of its beak. Morgan forced himself upright, feeling at the deep gouges in his chest, where the guardian’s last strike had nearly ended him.
It had been a close call, far too close for comfort. Had he not shifted his body weight at the last moment, he would be the one lying dead, while the guardian feasted on his remains. He eyed the corpse, remembering that last attack. There was no way he could have pulled it off on his own, at least, not in his condition. But the spear had acted almost of its own volition, striking up as he stepped back and ending the beast with a single powerful thrust.
He grimaced as he forced himself to his feet, his hand outstretched as he called for the spear to come back to him. It did, tearing itself from the guardian’s throat and stopping an inch from his palm, before rotating and allowing him to grasp its haft. It was humming again, and he could feel it down to his very bones. The spear was pleased, thrumming lightly as though to a rhythm that only it could hear.
“I guess I should thank you for saving me,” he muttered, placing the butt of the spear on the ground to help him stay steady.
The spear hummed a bit louder, sounding almost crystalline as it did. He began stomping over to the Soul Well, its bright violet waters swirling and twisting as he neared. He could feel its power as he walked up to it, and when he came to the edge, wondered if it was a good idea to step inside. Then, he simply shrugged to himself. This was what he’d come for, so it would be pointless of him not to enter.
He crouched, setting the spear down beside the pool, then slowly began lowering himself inside. He didn’t bother removing his clothes or boots, as they were so tattered that they’d need to be replaced anyway. He just hoped that all the blood wouldn’t taint the Well.
The water was oddly warm and quite a bit denser than he might have imagined. It flowed up around him as he sank down, his chest vanishing beneath the glowing waters. As soon as he was neck-deep, he paused, wondering if he should be feeling anything yet. Finally, he just shrugged to himself once more and dropped completely, allowing his head to be fully submerged.
The world around him turned completely purple, the pulsing of reiki clear as day, even with his Aura Sense deactivated. For several moments, nothing happened. But just when he began to wonder if this was it, Morgan felt something change. His muscles locked into place as the water around him seemed to solidify. Before he could even think of resisting, the Soul Well began to siphon his RP, sucking him dry in a matter of seconds.
He tried to struggle, tried to force his battered body out of the water. However, it was as though he’d become fused to the Well itself, unable to so much as twitch an eyelid. Then, the whispers began, inaudible at first, but growing in volume the longer he listened.
“Who are you, that you dare to bathe in the Well of Souls?” the voice demanded, its hissing tone sounding both angry and curious.
Unable to move his lips or say anything, as he was underwater, Morgan decided to try answering with his mind, just as he did when talking to Katherine over long distances.
“I am Morgan. A supermage. I was directed to come here by my status.”
There was silence for several moments, then the voice answered.
“But you are not only Morgan, are you?”
Morgan did not want to admit as much aloud, but now that he was here, he had an odd sort of clarity. It was as though all the fears and doubts he’d been plagued by his entire life were utterly meaningless, especially in the face of such a vast and infinite power.
“No. The Beast King lives within me as well.”
“You imply that the beast is a separate entity. Yet it is a part of you. Why do you deny your nature?”
“Because I am not the Beast King, I am human.”
“Yet, your appearance would suggest otherwise.”
“An unfortunate byproduct of the Beast,” Morgan replied, feeling the monster stirring for the first time since he’d come down here.
“You cannot continue to deny part of your nature. It is who you are.”
“It’s not what I want to be,” Morgan said, feeling a tinge of annoyance enter his voice.
“Then why did you come here?”
“To finally have control over it. If I can do that, then I can keep him locked in his cage and siphon his power as needed.”
The voice was silent for several long seconds, as though contemplating his response.
“So long as you deny who you are, you will never be whole. The Beast King is as much a part of you as your limbs, flesh and bones. You do not deny the existence of your limbs, so why do you deny a part of your nature?”
“Because I can’t believe that that’s who I am!” Morgan yelled, finally snapping.
There was another moment of silence, and when the voice next spoke, it was to ask something completely unexpected.
“Do you know why this place is called the Well of Souls?”
“No,” Morgan replied, taken aback by the sudden change of topic.
“Well, then, allow me to explain how we came to be and what each of us serves. In the beginning, at this world’s creation, three wells were created. The Well of Consciousness, the Well of Eternal Youth and the Well of Souls. All three were created to represent a certain aspect of life. Those of the body, mind and spirit. Bathing in those waters would give the one who accomplished those feats immeasurable power.
“The Wells do not impart their knowledge or power willingly, instead choosing carefully from among those who have made it to their depths by plying them with trials.
“You have accomplished just such feats. However, you did so, not by overcoming your own inner demons, but rather, by sheer force of will and the might of your fists. It is unprecedented for something like this to occur, as the Well of Souls is designed to challenge your beliefs and force you to relinquish all worldly worries…”
Morgan’s mind flashed to Sarah for an instant, and he knew that the Well had seen her.
“While you have great conviction and motivation, you are a broken man. You are two halves of the same coin who refuse to acknowledge that you are the same. While I can impart wisdom, there is little I can do to make you confront your other half. But just know that for as long as you deny your nature, you will never be whole.”
The world around him brightened once more, this time, to blinding proportions. However, when the light faded, Morgan found himself not within the Soul Well, but rather, sitting in the massive field of flowers outside the Well. He scrabbled around for a moment, looking frantically for the spear, only to let out a relieved sigh when he found it lying just a few feet away. Next to it lay an object he hadn’t been expecting to see – a shining core twice the size of his head.
He moved to rise, already wincing at the expected pain. When he failed to feel so much as a twinge of discomfort, he looked down at himself. He was completely dry, not even a single damp patch to signify that he’d been inside a pool of water. Oddly enough, his wounds were all healed as well. Had he not seen the core lying next to the spear, Morgan might have thought he’d imagined the whole thing. However, the voice’s words still echoed in his mind.
‘So long as you deny your nature, you will never be whole.’
Snorting to himself, Morgan rose to his feet and went over to retrieve his items. As he walked, he pulled up his status to see if the skill had been unlocked, or if he’d been forced to endure all that torture for nothing.
Name: Morgan
Advanced Supermage: Rank - 68
Energy to next rank - 922,600/450,000,000
Ability Advancement - 15,000,000/15,000,000 (Max.)
Ability - Natural Disaster
RP - 8,250/8,250 (Regen - 82.5 per second)
Strength - 702
Agility - 1,050
Constitution - 832
Intelligence - 825
Wisdom - 825
Skills - Hypersonic Flight, Maximum Increase, Maximum Stormfo
rge, Earthen Shift, Nature’s Wrath, Compression, Gravity Tear, Sunblast
Traits - Dense Body Max., Recovery Max., Aura Sense (inherited), Aura Flare (inherited), Perfect Self, Soul Stealer, Suppression (inherited)
Extra - Gravity Storm (7th category), Starbreaker (7th category), Collapsing Star (HyperNova), Shooting Star (Comet), Massive Meteor (2nd category), Continental Crush, Soulstream
Morgan stared, wide-eyed at the Intelligence and Wisdom attributes. He then rubbed his eyes a couple of times, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. When he checked again, he saw that, yes, both attributes had gone up by 100 points each.
“How the hell did that happen?” he wondered, staring at the numbers for almost a minute straight as he tried to process the massive increase.
How was it even possible for there to be that much of a jump? His mind flashed to the Well, remembering what the voice had said. It had said that those who cleared the trials by the Wells would be blessed with immeasurable power. A 100-point gain was hardly immeasurable, but holy crap, was it a lot. Right then and there, Morgan decided that he needed to find those other Wells.
If this one had given him such a big boost to Intelligence and Wisdom, what would the others do for him?
Now that he was concentrating on it, he realized how much sharper his mind was. His thoughts moved at a faster pace, as did his ability to process information. Every point gained gave a small increase to the underlying trait that each attribute represented, but they always came in such small doses that it was hard to tell the difference.
Morgan flexed his fingers a couple of times, as though checking to see if he’d somehow gotten stronger from that. All he noticed was that he was more easily able to follow their movements. He struck out at the air, watching his fist’s trajectory, and when he threw the second punch, it landed in the exact spot the first had. His aim had always been good, but with his boosted mental capacity, he’d be even better.