Downfall And Rise

by Nathan Thompson

  For a brief moment it felt like I hadn't lost anything at all.

  Then I nearly kicked myself. I had lost a lot of things for good. I was just now learning exactly what I've lost in these past three years. What has been stolen from me. Who has been stolen from me. My future on earth. My ability to think of being stabbed and kicked and torn and burnt as anything but a normal experience.

  My dad. And probably my mom and sister. And Davelon and Christina and my other friends.

  I had to shut it off right there because, well, sanity. But in retrospect, my magical powers and traits were probably the easiest thing I could have gotten back.

  And if I was reading this right, I had kept at least half of everything I had before. Even more so with my Constitution. And I had either kept all of my Wisdom and Will or already gained it back while going through the torture. Not that I felt particularly wise or strong-willed at the moment.

  I did know one thing. Whatever I had lost, however I had been damaged, the trauma hadn't destroyed me. Not here. Not yet.

  So as long as I still had the opportunity, I would fight and I would claw, and I would not stop until I had gained something back.

  And right now, that something was the rest of the people they had kept here.

  A quick glance told me my executioner didn't have anything else on him that I could use. I don't know why the people here weren't more heavily armed. Sure, they had clubs and short blades, from what I had seen, but I was expecting them to take advantage of swords and plate and chainmail. Maybe they just felt that secure, to where they didn't think they'd need heavy gear. Or maybe they just weren't familiar with this world's equipment yet, and didn't feel like learning whatever they thought they didn't need.

  That sounded stupid, but maybe they weren't used to clawing for every single scrap they could gain, like I was.

  I walked to the door to listen for anyone else out in the hallway. Nothing. Sound didn't travel that much.

  I thought about how easily I had dispatched my first foe here and wondered if I should Rise again or just wait. The longer I waited, the easier it would be to increase my traits and skills through use. But if I didn't summon power I wound up needing, I'd be killed for good. And everything would be lost. For everyone. Stell. Guineve. Val. The other natives here.

  Thinking of Stell reminded me that I could summon Breena back to me.

  I focused on the familiar summoning spell I had been granted, and went through the procedure to call forth my tiny pink-haired friend.

  When the spell completed, a tiny portal briefly opened, then closed again.

  That cold sinking feeling I was all too familiar with crawled right back into my stomach.

  “Wes?” a tiny voice whispered in my mind. “Wes?”

  “Breena,” I sighed in relief, sending back to her in my mind. “Thank God. Where are you?”

  “Hiding.” A one word answer. As if her breath was now precious and rare.

  “Hiding?” I asked with a frown. “From what?”

  “Bad thing.” she whispered in short sentences. “Wants us. Stell knows it.”

  “Cavus?”

  “Shhh. No names. He'll hear you.”

  “Is he near you right now?”

  “No. Not close. Not anymore”

  “Where is he?”

  “Gone now. Wants Stell.”

  “Did he find her?” I asked desperately. “Is she safe?”

  “Don't know.”

  “What about you?” I asked. “Are you hurt?

  “No.”

  “Are you safe?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Bad men. Have magic. Have Horde. New kinds. Never seen either before.”

  For all of her child-like nature, my little friend had seen nearly every type of magic and almost certainly every type of Horde. The news she gave was troubling at the very least.

  “Are you still on Avalon?” I asked.

  “Sh. No names.”

  I had to growl away my impatience. My friend was in danger and her tone was scaring the hell out of me. Which should have been impossible after what I've already been through.

  “Breena, help me know where you are.”

  “Near Shelter. Almost made it.”

  “Shelter?” I asked. “There is a shelter on- there is a shelter here?”

  “Old shelter. Never needed. Needed now.” A pause. “Didn't make it.”

  “Are the bad things in your way?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Can they get in the shelter?” I asked carefully.

  “No,” she whispered back. “Safe place.”

  “Can you make it around them?”

  I suppressed another growl. This was like pulling teeth, in the middle of the night, out in the woods where wolves were howling.

  “No. Too late. Guarding.”

  “Well can you get away from there without being seen?”

  “No. Too late. Hunting me.”

  She paused, then whispered again in my mind.

  “Too strong to fight. Have to stay still. Stay silent,”

  She was saying that much to herself, I realized. And those were two things I had never noticed Breena do very well.

  “Okay, new plan,” I sent back. “Just stay where you are, and when I'm done here I'll find the place and come get you.”

  “No. Too late. Bad thing hunts us. Go home Wes. Stay safe. Live long. Be well.”

  Ha.

  She didn't know.

  “I can't do that, Breena,” I said back quietly.

  “Wes,” the whispering became more urgent. Pleading even. “Go home. Can't help. Bad thing hunts us. Hates boys. Will hurt you.”

  “I know,” and this time I didn't hide any of my irritation with her. “We've already met. Twice,” I added with a growl.

  “What? Wes...no,” There was pain in that voice. Old pain.

  Breena knew this thing too.

  “Focus, Breena, and listen,” I was speaking harshly to her. And even as twisted as I felt I'd become, I still hated doing that to her. “Things have changed for me. I'll explain when I find you. But that shelter is probably going to be my home now. And there are other people here I need to bring to it.”

  “I'll ask you more questions later, because I'm probably not safe right now either. There are people here I've promised to help, and when I get everyone secure I'm coming for you. Tell me if you move or if anything happens. Otherwise I'll just find you. And don't tell me to stay away,” I growled. “It doesn't work”

  “Wes... thank you...sorry...love you.”

  Her empathy was fixed.

  I don’t know why I thought that. But in that awful moment I suddenly realized Breena was finally expressing what she had been meaning to all this time.

  “Love you too,” I sent back. We didn’t talk about what kind of love she was offering. I just took it and returned it, hoping it would help us both survive. “Stay safe. I'm coming either way.”

  I didn't know what 'sorry' meant either, and it scared me a whole lot more than 'love you.'

  Alright, I decided that was enough teen angst. I still needed to decide if I wanted to undergo a full Rise, and how many.

  It was a stupid question. There was too much at stake here. Breena was in danger. Stell was probably in danger. Val and the other girls were definitely in danger and my family had made them a promise a long time ago to take care of them if they ever needed help.

  I had let the lies about Dad, and about how they supposedly didn't want to talk to us anymore, keep me away.

  That was on me. Time to fix it.

  I pushed. Then I did it again. Then one more time.

  Then something locked up inside of me, like some automatic latch designed to keep something from overloading. I still felt the pressure that compelled me to lift it off of me, but I couldn't do so anymore. Which was good because right now my body felt like it was breaking in half anyway.

  The changes made from the Ideals alone
increased most of my Traits by over a third of their original total. Furthermore, not only did I have the leftover points I never spent, now I received seven points for Traits and five points for skills, every single Rise. Even after the Ideals were allocated I had 23 points for Traits and 19 points to increase my skill knowledge. Again, this was all I could afford to save so I went and got to work:

  Wes Malcolm

  Race: Human. Origin: Earth (Challenger)

  Growth Level: Third-Rise (Spark)

  Path: War (First Step)

  Saga: Forming

  Profession: Unknown

  Vital Pool: 250 points

  Stamina Pool: 250 points.

  Mana Pool: 220 points

  Strength: 30

  Dexterity: 30

  Constitution: 30

  Intelligence: 30

  Wisdom: 38

  Charisma: 25

  Speed: 37

  Deftness: 34

  Wits: 39

  Will: 46

  Rise Points Remaining: 0 (can increase the six primary traits at a 1:1 ratio, or the four secondary traits at a 1:2 ratio.

  13 skill points remaining

  Insight into the Following Ideals

  Earth: lvl 6 Initiate Level Unlocked: Mana Cost decreased

  Air: lvl 6 Initiate Level Unlocked: Mana Cost decreased

  Lightning: lvl 6 Initiate Level Unlocked: Mana Cost decreased

  Skill List truncated (New Skill levels listed)

  Unarmed fighting 6 (Initiate) (Expand for Details)

  Light Blades 6 (Initiate) (Expand for Details)

  Dodge 6 (Initiate) (Expand for Details)

  Pain Tolerance Rank 6 (Initiate) (New Resistances Gained)

  Mental Preservation Rank 6 (Initiate) (New Resistances Gained)

  Spell list truncated

  I shuddered through another explosion of change within my body and mind. I felt new changes unlock through my Ideals, but they would take more time than I had to fully understand. At any rate, though, I tried to increase all of my traits to just above the maximum potential of a human being on Earth. I finally pushed some of my skills to level 6, mainly my Ideals and the combat skills I was likely to use, but increasing the skill level above my Risen level made me feel like each empowered skill was its own special migraine.

  But once again, no time. Move.

  I reached for my enhancement spells. My signature ones were all instantaneous now, but there was no reason not to test them here instead of in the heat of the moment. I felt my bones become stronger, yet still flexible, like some powerful alloy. Minerals crawled over the very tip of my skin, creating thick layers in some places that were, oddly, more comfortable than they had felt in the past. The air very close to me whipped about, and smelled like ozone whenever a crackle of current ran along my limbs. I felt a similar current travel down my sword.

  Still taking too long, I told myself. Back to the playbook.

  Kick the door down, disarm the traps, kill the monsters, save the princess, get the treasure.

  The door opened with a creak. I walked out into the hall. I tried to remember how many people I had seen here. Then I asked myself why Chris thought I could fight my way out of here on my own, after being captured for so long. I had caught my last opponent unaware with every attack, and while that gave me an idea of his intelligence, I still could only guess how as to strong these guys were…

  “Hey you!”

  Huh, I thought. Free research. Nevermind then.

  I made a show of looking around me, then I looked at the guard while pointing to myself.

  “Who, me?” I asked. “Where am I?”

  Seeing my dazed look, the guard came closer, looking uncertain as to what to say to me and what to do. Had I turned combative he would have probably raised an alarm, but I didn't think he'd been trained on dealing with an escaped prisoner that was also a head-case.

  “You're supposed to be in your cell,” he growled, walking forward. This one had brown hair, but otherwise looked similar to the one I had killed earlier. He was holding a club, but the way he was holding seemed a little off to me.

  “Cell?” I asked, realizing he still couldn't see the weapon I was holding behind me. “Which cell? What's a cell? Who are you? Why does everything feel fuzzy?”

  He came closer still. I could tell he was still confused.

  “You um, where is Rick? Rick, are you back in there?” he called out to the room I had left.

  “Rick?” I asked, noting that he was almost in range. “Who's Rick? Who are you? Am I late for school?”

  “Rick is, um, shit.” The goon was having a really hard time with this. I reflected that bluffing guards had been way harder in my sister's games. “He's your executioner... I mean nurse. He's your nurse. He's uh, he's supposed to take you back to your room.”

  “Room?” I asked. He was almost in range. “What room? Where am I?”

  “You're uh, in a hospital. For sick people. We're supposed to be trying to make you better. Come on. Let's uh, go to your room and find Rick.”

  He was reaching his hand out to me, now that he was in range. Apparently, it hadn't occurred to him that since I was supposed to die today anyway he could have just killed me himself.

  “Okay,” I said, still keeping my confused tone. “But why did you walk inside my range and not sound the alarm?”

  His eyebrows narrowed, almost understanding, and almost soon enough.

  “Huh? What do you...”

  And with a shriek of pain, he interrupted himself.

  A red line had followed the path across his arm that my hidden sword had taken. It was his own fault for not taking the time to look behind my back.

  Since he wasn't done making mistakes, I dashed forward and stabbed into his chest. I felt his vital guard kick in over his organs, somehow holding them together, and I felt them kick in again when I twisted my blade violently out. He screamed in pain and swung his club at me.

  That was why I thought he was holding it wrong, I realized as his weapon scraped against the wall. His grip was wrong for fighting in a hallway this size.

  Why didn't he know that?

  And what else was wrong with these people?

  He wasn't even wearing armor. Just that Kevlar vest and a uniform he probably wore back on earth. Did he not know swords were a thing here?

  Was I fighting the Malus junior varsity squad here?

  He finally got his weapon clear of the wall and swung it me with something that almost showed practice, and I finally placed my finger on the problem.

  He was awkward. In a way he probably wasn't back on Earth. But everything he was doing here, he was only doing with part of himself.

  Their projection tech didn't work. He wasn't fully in Avalon, and he probably didn't even realize it until now.

  I stepped back to dodge his blow, and then stepped in for another murder stab. This time when I stabbed at him, I felt the air cut around my sword, felt its weight suddenly increase as it impacted him. Then something hummed, and he spasmed on my blade in a way that reminded me of those self-tasering videos I had seen online.

  He seemed even more confused as my last attack shredded his vital guard to rags. I ripped my sword across his throat, and as he fell clutching it I realized the wound was blackened and bloodless.

  When I started to ask myself why, my sword crackled in my hand.

  Cooperation among Ideals achieved, my mind-screen said. Challenger has comprehended the least preliminary stage of Battleform.

  A second casualty has been lost to Stellar War.

  Challenger's infamy has increased.

  Current Participation has earned Challenger the rank of conscript.

  Challenger may summon a basic weapon from the Cosmic Armory.

  Updates flew across my mind and eyes, and a new spell formed in my head. I held out my hand, worked out the mental requirements of my newest spell, and a six-foot spear with a diamond-shaped blade, something resembling the ancient Roman hasta, appeared i
n my other hand. I got the feeling it was a free emergency weapon, granted by my dutiful murder of two (fully deserving) fellow Earthlings, and it was probably something to be used to further that same end. It felt cheap, and replaceable, until I felt my Earth, Air and Lightning magic creep up it, making it sturdier, sharper, and, well, tasery.