by Joseph Lallo
“Epidime,” she said.
“You do fine work. Your world is now the fourth to close the door, and the first to do it so quickly. It is truly a shame to lose your world,” he said, borrowing her own voice as he had in his earliest torments.
“You had no claim on this world. It was ours and it will remain ours,” Myranda replied.
“Yes . . . for the next few minutes at least,” Epidime remarked.
“What do you mean?” Myranda asked, concern in her voice.
“I realize that memories of life tend to slip quickly from your kind, but surely you recall all of the other portals, and what happened when they were closed,” Epidime scolded.
Myranda searched her thoughts. She didn't have to search for long. The images of walls of raw energy flashing forth in her mind.
“No . . . “ she said in horror.
“Yes. I had mentioned that the worlds that closed their portals no longer existed. Obviously I've never seen it, but the shock wave from a portal this size must be a true thing of wonder,” the black form mocked.
With that, Epidime vanished. The tattered remnants of Myranda pulled themselves together. Death could wait. Slowly she clawed her way back to her body. Myranda's physical form began to struggle. Myn's head shot up. The human made horrid strangled sounds as she tried to draw breath into lungs that could no longer hold it. The broken gems of her staff took on a glow as her shattered mind gathered into a shaky focus. In fits and starts the spells of healing began to flow, breaking through the agony and feeding on the residue of power that lingered from the onslaught. When air finally made its way into her half restored lungs, she cried out, the words coming straight from her memory.
“Victory is a prelude . . . the . . . white wall . . . “ she wheezed.
“I may have underestimated the human form,” Ether marveled.
Myranda struggled to continue as her wounds faded unsteadily away. “The shock wave! The burst of energy that comes when the portals are closed!”
Ether's eyes turned to the portal. The creatures had entirely stopped pouring out of it, and the still raging form of Ivy had nearly cleared the valley, leaving behind little more than twisted remains. The shape shifter's eyes looked past what physical eyes could see. Her mystically attuned mind judged the power of the failing portal, and sifted through what she'd seen of the other portals. With an intuitive knowledge of magic that Deacon could only dream of, she worked out in moments the potential threat. The result was immediate, and unprecedented. A look of total horror came to her face.
“We have to leave this place. Quickly. QUICKLY!” Ether cried. There was fear in her voice. A creature who had shown nothing short of cold, steady, unshakable confidence now was trembling.
“There has to be a way to stop it. It . . . “ Myranda said, leaning on Myn's head to get to her feet as her recovery began to slow.
“No! You don't understand! We can't stop it! Nothing can! It will be the end of us, all of us! The end of everything!” Ether cried. “Power like this . . . It will sweep the world clean. So much raw, unshaped magic. What it leaves behind . . . “ she cried. “There is no telling . . . just a terrible randomness. Chaos incarnate!”
From within the valley there was a choked-off cry of fury, as Ivy's strength finally failed her. Half dead creatures that had been lucky enough to escape the bite of her blades were slowly hobbling toward her motionless form. Without a word Myranda climbed atop Myn and wiped away her wounds with more of her borrowed energy. With that, Myn took eagerly to the sky once more. As they turned to the task of rescuing their friend, Ether turned her attentions to Lain.
“Lain, we must go. We MUST!” Ether repeated.
Lain's voice was steady. “We will face it, and if it can be stopped, it will be stopped.”
“How can you say that? I . . . I know you see yourself as a mortal, and for mortals death is a certainty. When a human dies it only loses a few years. You and I, we are losing eternity. You've got to come with me! The blast will weaken with distance. If we can get far enough away . . . I . . . I might be able to protect us,” Ether pleaded.
In the distance, Myn swept down to the prone form of Ivy, plucking her up. Myranda managed to pull the unconscious creature to the dragon's back. Desmeres’ weapons chose that moment to jolt her to wakefulness. Ivy roused from sleep with a cry of pain. As her eyes focused on the rushing darkness below her, it was followed by a scream of fear.
“Easy Ivy, it is alright. How did you wake so . . . “ Myranda asked, she was interrupted by a squeal of confusion.
“But you! You! YOU did it AGAIN! I thought you were dead!” Ivy yelled, shoving Myranda in mock anger. “Stop doing that!”
With that, the freshly awakened creature threw her arms around Myranda. For a moment Myranda marveled and admired Ivy's ability to so quickly accept the impossible events that seemed to occur so frequently in her life.
“Ivy, something very dangerous is about to happen, I am not sure . . . “ Myranda began again, only to again be interrupted.
“Where is she going?” Ivy asked.
Ether had taken on her windy form and was making her way south with a speed only fear could bring.
“Myn, get Lain and my father and follow her!” Myranda cried.
The dragon dove, snatching up the stone form as Lain leapt to a place on her back. The load was great, and Ether was well ahead, but Myn didn't care. The blasted thing had been a thorn in her side since they'd met. Ether never ceased to look down on the others, to behave as though she were better than them all. For Myranda's sake the dragon had let it pass, but now it was different. Now was her chance to prove something to the shape shifter. She wouldn't get away.
Myn flew like never before, the icy breeze rushing over the heroes with gale force. Her mighty wings sliced through the air faster and faster, then cut back and let the wind rush over them. She skimmed in the mountain currents of air, taking every ounce of speed from them that she could. Slowly, steadily, the indistinct swirl of wind ahead drew closer. Below, the army of otherworldly creatures was marching, beasts that had made it clear of the valley before Ivy's rampage. Before long even the leading edge of the mob of demons was behind them, and Ether just ahead. Myranda called out to her.
“Ether! What are you doing?!” Myranda cried.
“I must not be destroyed, Myranda. I WILL not be destroyed!” Ether cried.
“You just have to face this danger. We have to face it together!” Myranda urged, Myn managing to bring the two heroes side by side finally.
“It is easy for you, human. Anything can take your life. You face death every moment of every day! For me death was an impossibility until now! I had no use for courage because there was nothing for me to fear! How can I face this now?!” came Ether's reply.
“You can face it because you must! You can face it because this is your moment. The moment you were created for! Every second for you, since the dawn of time, has been counting down to this day! You can either rise to the occasion, damn the consequences, and do what you were meant to do, or you can run away and at best survive to live in an empty, ruined world for an eternity that can never redeem you!” Myranda said.
Ether was silent, slowing her flight. She considered the words. Deep inside of her, she felt something she'd always believed had driven her, but until now she'd never truly known. Duty. She looked upon the land with new eyes. When she spoke, the fear was gone, but the tone that replaced it was not the superior preen of old. It resonated with, for the first time, sincerity and respect.
“Very well, human. Lead the way. I am not certain we have a chance, but if I must die, let me die by my brethren. Let me die doing what is right,” she said.
The Chosen backtracked to the level top of a low mountain to make their stand, a wide expanse only a few mountains removed from the valley. Ivy slipped from Myn's back and wavered slightly. The repeated outbursts without real rest between had wrung her spirit dry. She had the strength of body to stand, but barely the
strength of will. Lain was weary, but no ounce of it showed on his face. Myranda, now devoid of the surge of power that had briefly used her as a conduit, was fighting to undo the ravaging effect it had had on her mind. Myn was breathing great heaving breaths of the stinging cold air, taxed to the limit by the chase. Ether merely stood, human once more, her eyes looking expectantly to the north. Had it not been so far and so dark, she might have seen one last form drop from the nearly closed portal.
“What can we expect?” Myranda asked.
“Chaos. Madness. Hundreds of years of energy released at once without will or form. Raw untamed mystic carnage,” Ether replied.
“How do we stop it?” Myranda pressed further.
“It cannot be stopped. It will continue until its reserves run dry,” came the answer, Ether's voice a resigned, steady tone.
“If it is pure mystic energy, can we harness it?” the wizard suggested.
“I would imagine so. Insomuch as you can drink the ocean,” she answered.
Myranda put her staff to the ground and traced out a large circle. Within it she inscribed a triangle. Finally she stood her staff in its center. It was a practice described in careful detail by Deacon as one that aided a link between wizards when they were to work as one. Ideally she would have traced out a five pointed figure, but Myranda's recent experience with the vast expenditure of borrowed power made it clear to her that it was an undertaking unsuitable for the untrained mind. Were Myn or Lain to be included they might well be able to draw in the power, but there was no way that they would be able to release it again. No, this was a task for herself, the shape shifter, and . . .
“That last spot isn't for me, is it?” Ivy asked nervously as her friends took up positions at the other points.
“We need you,” Myranda said.
“But I don't know magic,” Ivy offered meekly.
“All you need to do is waste it. You are uniquely suited to that,” Ether said, a hint of her old self in her tone.
Reluctantly she took up her position at the corner of the triangle pointing toward the portal. The three joined hands and waited. They did not have to wait long. The tiny, faint fleck of blue light that was the portal winked out in the distance. It was silently replaced by a blinding white filament of light that began at the ground and continued into the sky, piercing the clouds and showing through them. The line spread slowly, as though reality itself was being spread aside like a curtain to reveal the plane beyond. The sound came next. It was a tone at the edge of hearing, high pitched and haunting, like a distant choir echoing through the dimensions.
The shaft of light bathed the whole of the mountain range in its unearthly glow. It painted the clouds chalk white and brighter than day. In Northern Capital, all eyes turned to it. Residents stopped their rejoicing and rebuilding. In a dozen forests across the north, woodland creatures stood frozen in terror of the sight. At the battlefront, soldiers standing at uneasy attention, awaiting long overdue orders and longer overdue reinforcements turned their backs to their counterparts across the border and watched as the hair thin line of light pushed back the clouds. In Entwell Num Garastra, wizards and warriors watched the light over the edge of the mountain and waited. They alone knew what it was. It was the last of Hollow's prophesies.
“What is that? What is behind me?” Ivy asked nervously, turning to look over her shoulder.
“No, Ivy. Not yet,” Myranda instructed. “Just close your eyes and open your mind. Ether and I will do the work for now.”
The shape shifter and the wizard began to sink deeply into focus. What little energy was left inside of them began to spread and flow between them. Slowly the line between their minds began to blur. The thoughts, feelings, and strengths of each hero joined with those of the others. The timid mind of Ivy rose beside the complex thoughts of Ether and the dutiful focus of Myranda. Like a boat caught in a current, without truly understanding how, Ivy felt herself aiding in the construction of a spell.
Outside of the ring, the drawn circle and triangle now beginning to glow, Myn and Lain became aware of something else. In the light cast by the beam, the mountainside spreading below them seemed to be alive. A low rumble was growing steadily louder. The twisted forms of the army of demons that had flooded from the portal had reached them. Myn looked upon the horde almost with relief. Now, at least, her role was clear. She stalked a few long paces down the slight slope of the mountain, dug her claws into the rocky soil, unfurled her wings, and waited. Lain drew his sword and followed suit.
By the time the first of the dark creatures clashed with the warriors, the shaft of light had grown into a wall. The surface, from a distance featureless, now seemed to ripple with prominences and tendrils. It slid in eerie near-silence, only the distant wail accompanying the smooth, undaunted motion of the cataclysm. It devoured whole mountainsides, the occasional filament of light twisting out and tracing a random line along the ground, offering a terrible insight into what the wall was leaving behind it. Earth and stone shone brilliantly and then . . . changed. Much of it vanished. More troubling were the other effects. Here a cluster of stones shifted to a flock of winged creatures that scattered. There a patch of field miraculously sprouted an Eden of magnificent flowers and trees. Monolithic stones rolled to the ground as liquid. All manner of random, inconceivable effects flashed into being at the touch of a tendril from the wall, only to be swallowed as the band of light pressed forward.
One by one, thin threads of light drew away from the surface of the wall, twisting and winding through the air and finally coiling about Myranda's staff. The power began to build and pool within the three focused minds. It came slowly at first, but as the wall drew nearer, threads of energy became thicker and more numerous. Myranda's mind pulled and twisted at a spell she'd used a dozen times before, a shield against magic. It had served its purpose in the past, but now it was not enough. It was possible nothing would be enough, but she could not afford to think that now. She modified it, catering it to precisely the sort of energy that made up the wall, and cast it forward. The surface of the wall rippled slightly and bowed inward. It slowed, but did not stop. As Myranda gave a tiny fragment of the well of stolen power form, Ivy and Ether fought to contain and spill off the rest.
The energy poured in as a torrent, then as a flood. It was wicking away from the wall, now only a mountain away, in a tendril of energy nearly filling the mystic circle. Myranda's efforts were as great as any spell she'd cast before this battle had begun, and even so she was making a barely noticeable draw on the ocean of energy that was every moment threatening to drown them. Ether gathered up her share of the surplus power and hurled it skyward. She was a being composed of magic, and had been host to energies that could have reduced a city to rubble, but even she could not release the power quickly enough. A shaft of energy surrounded her and stretched high into the sky, twisting and curling into complex shapes. Her flesh and bone body began to hiss and sizzle. It was clear she needed a new form, but none that she'd taken before would do. Even her flame form was too efficient, it could not waste the power that needed disposal, nor could it serve as a suitable conduit. There was, however one that just might. A form she never would have dared assume otherwise. Mystic strength leaked from it like water from a sieve. Taking the form would tax her to her limit while achieving nothing. In the circumstances, it was perfect.
To the others the change came merely as a distant sensation of a warm soft hand shifting to a cold hard one in their grips, but that was far, far away, in the physical world. The far more important and far more impressive change came in the world within their minds. It was as though floodgates had been thrown aside and the sea of energy had an escape. The pressure scorching their minds and roasting their souls lessened, and the remaining energy sloshed and shifted, distributing itself among the others a slice more thinly.
Outside of the mystic circle, madness reigned. Myn was grappling with beasts as large as she, tearing and incinerating them, all the while lashing her ta
il against hordes of smaller creatures. Lain's sword slashed and severed beasts several at a time. The crooked tunnel of energy coiling toward the others was a constant threat, sweeping and twisting across the mountaintop like a snake. Swift kicks and well placed throws sent unlucky creatures into the writhing form, their swift, spectacular ends making it terrifyingly clear what would happen should Lain or Myn be too slow to avoid it. Then there was the wall.
It was at the base of the mountain now, and moving steadily up, as though the end of the universe was creeping toward them. To either side of the battleground it was bulging outward, as portions unhindered by Myranda's ambitious spell began to pull ahead. It cast a glow brighter than day. There were no shadows, as though the abundance of light rushed in to fill any crevice, or perhaps passed through solid forms uninhibited. Despite how near it was, the distant wail remained distant, as though it was not made by the wall, but by some far off creature, fearing what the wall might bring. The thunder of hooves, claws, and tentacles should have drowned it out, but the haunting sound cut through the tumult easily, ringing at once clear and indistinct in their minds.
As Lain hurled a hawk-like creature into the beam that erupted from where Ether had once stood, his eyes caught something a few hundred paces down the mountain. It was not one of the creatures. It was something worse. Something that could not have been more out of place in the valley. It was a patch of darkness. Even the black skinned menagerie they fought was painted by the white light to appear gray at best. Below was a shape that managed to resist the light. An instinct deep in Lain's mind told him that this thing, whatever it was, was the real threat. The rush of creatures, even the wall of energy, were meaningless. Carving himself an opening, Lain launched himself toward it.