by KJ Harlow
“Cal? I’m so sorry, I–”
“It’s OK. When Ferros sacrificed himself to create a diversion, I had an idea.” He leant in and murmured in hurried whispers. Cist’s furrowed brow melted away after Cal finished.
“That… could work.”
“How many Lightclones can you make?”
“As many as I want theoretically. They’ll just share from my pool of mana and have one HP each. If they so much as get slapped–”
“That’s OK, if this plan works, they won’t be in harm’s–”
Cist shoved Cal out of the way and threw himself down. The remnants of Ferros’ torso soared over them and skidded onto the tiles, leaving a bloody trail behind. The minotaur swallowed whatever part of Ferros it had bitten off, stretched its arms back and bellowed, a green spark of light circling up its heavily muscled body.
+300 Health!
“My brother will be the last human he feasts on tonight.” Cist murmured.
They ran back about 10 yards then turned around. Kai was doing his part, chipping away at the HP of the being. His concentration was impressive, considering how easily he lost focus when he wasn’t fighting.
The werejaguar drew the creature closer and closer. Cal stepped towards Kai, keeping an eye on the monstrous being. It wasn’t the most intelligent creature, but it had quickly connected Cal to the earthquakes that temporarily paralyzed it. Cal had used up more than half of the MP potions just trying to land more earthquakes.
It raised its halberd in both arms and brought it thundering down. As Kai pounced away yet again, Cal leapt and crunched his own axe into the ground at the same time. Gotcha.
“Earthquake!”
The minotaur roared but couldn’t move, both hands on its long axe while it remained grounded in the heavily scarred tiles.
“Cist, now!”
The leader of the Lightblades closed his eyes. He formed a sigil with his hands; it looked like he was running his fingers on the outside of an invisible orange before rolling his fingers inwards. Then he raised a knife and slashed it diagonally.
Cal started seeing double, then quadruple. Seconds later there were over 30 Cists, knives at the ready.
“Go!” Cist pointed toward the minotaur and eight of them ran forward. They stood in a row square to the minotaur and one by one threw a knife with a string of mana tied to the handle. Each one wound round and round the large axe, tugged tight against the bottom of the axe head.
“Pull!” The eight Cists pulled and the Lightblades shimmered in the air, like spider webs infused with star light. The axe started to budge out of the minotaur’s grip. “Pull!” Prime Cist bellowed. This time, the axe flew free from the grip of the minotaur, clattering to the ground.
“Withdraw!” Prime Cist barked. The Lightclones ran as fast as they could, dragging the axe along the ground.
“Surround!” Prime Cist ordered. The remaining 20 or so Lightclones fanned out around the minotaur. “Immobilize!” Similarly to the axe, the clones started casting their knives not to pierce or puncture, but to capture. Knife after knife flew threw the air, spinning around the wrists, ankles and head of the giant creature.
Eartquake’s effects wore off and the minotaur roared.
“Feet!” The clones who had wrapped Lightblades around the minotaur’s ankles pulled back at the same time, and the creature slipped and crashed onto its face.
“Hands!” Clones ran to either side of the room past the broken pillars and the minotaur’s hands were spread out. Its trapezius muscles slid and strained as it tried to pull itself free from the gossamer-thin restraints.
“Cal, now!” The orc ran toward the face-down minotaur, avoiding its straining limbs. It turned its head and glared at Cal, madness swirling in its eyes. It tried to grab the orc, but the Cists held on, feet sliding on the stone tiles. Cal jumped, his axe in the air. It came crushing down onto the back of the minotaur’s neck.
-30 Damage!
The blow had barely pierced the skin – like most of them – but as Cal hammered away with his axe, he noticed something.
The minotaur was still alive, but couldn’t move.
Hesitantly, he placed his hand on the back of the minotaur’s neck. Its skin was rough and thick, like a rhinoceros’. He pressed his hand in, feeling lumps and jagged pieces moving freely.
“Call off your Lightclones, Cist.” Cal stepped away from the minotaur. It stared at him, breathing heavily, its nose ring stained with Ferros’ blood. “I broke its spine.”
The other Cists turned to look at Prime Cist. He created the sigil with his hands again but in reverse. The Lightclones dissipated, imploding in a puff of light. He put his hands on his knees, his breathing ragged in his chest.
“The door… it won’t open… until the beast has been smote,” Cist breathed.
‘Smote’? As in… killed? The minotaur’s breath seemed to carry a note of resignation. Its eyes were still filled with hatred but behind it, Cal could sense acceptance. Maybe even a sense of peace.
“Kai.” The werejaguar had been standing aside. He walked over to Cal and stared at the broken beast. “You kill it.” Cal made to walk away.
“No.”
Cal stopped. “What do you mean ‘no’? You love killing things.”
“I don’t want to kill it.”
Cal turned to his comrade. “Who are you and what have you done with Kai?”
Kai turned away and joined Cist. “Finish it off,” he growled. The two men stared at him. He looked back to the minotaur; it now stared at the tiles beneath its face, as if it were a window that allowed it to see the next world he was about to enter.
Cal stood by its neck again. He raised his axe and brought it down, again and again and again. Cist and Kai watched silently. The minotaur also made no noise, apparently not feeling any pain as it experienced possibly the most inefficient form of decapitation ever.
Brown-green ichor poured out over the floor from the minotaur’s neck, coating Cal’s Featherfoot boots. He sheathed his axe and wiped the sweat off his brow, putting his arms on his hips.
Cist and Kai were still staring at the minotaur as Cal walked past them. He squatted down by the minotaur’s weapon.
“Examine.”
WEAPON: Minotaur’s Axe
LVL: C
RARITY: Uncommon
BONUS: +80% to STR.
An axe wielded by a minotaur. Long and heavy, this weapon takes time to strike but when it lands, the effect is devastating.
Level C; guess I’ll have to grow into it. He flipped open his satchel, placed both hands on the shaft of the weapon and hoisted it up. It shrunk and collapsed as he brought it towards the satchel. Taking note of which compartment he placed it in, he closed the flap.
“Gate’s open, guys.”
After all the large, long, high rooms they had been in, this one was surprisingly small. It had a bookshelf, bare except for three books, a flat surface with a thin sheet over it that was probably a bed and a wooden board on the wall just like in the other prisoners’ cells. Beneath it was a tray and two empty bowls. There was also had a worn, wooden table against the wall where an ageing man sat, cradling his chin in his hand.
“Your Highness.” Cist got down on one knee, put a hand over his heart and bowed.
“I’m not the king anymore.”
Cal and Kai stood aside, looking at the unkempt man. His face was sunken and grey and for good reason; prisoners didn’t need shaving utensils, even if they had once been king. He wore plain trousers and a simple cream-coloured top. The trousers had a patched-up hole at the right knee. He stared at the stone wall, not even acknowledging Cist.
“You are Magnus Fairshade the First, the true king of Thaylia.”
Fairshade sighed. He swivelled on the block of wood and looked at Cist.
“Who are you and why did you come here?” Cist kept his head bowed. “For Flulia’s sake, you may rise!”
Cist got up and squared his shoulders. “I am Cist, leader of t
he Lightblades.”
Fairshade stared at him incredulously. “You are the leader of the Lightblades?” He looked him up and down. “You?”
Cist inclined his head.
Fairshade started laughing; it wasn’t a sound of joy. “Why did you never appear when I summoned you?”
Cist hesitated. “I…” he paused, collecting himself. “Lightblades are sworn to the shadows. Where ever the moons shine, we cannot be seen.”
Fairshade grumbled. He looked up and noticed Cal and Kai standing there awkwardly. Kai got down in the same position that Cist had assumed.
“Your Highness.” Cal did the same thing.
“What is a werejaguar from Rawdriad Forest and an orc doing in the catacombs beneath Thaylia?” Fairshade asked.
Kai started. “How did you know I was from Rawdriad Forest?”
Fairshade pointed and waved vaguely. “Your markings. I’ve seen them before, several cycles ago.”
“My grandmoth– Elder Keizen, she said that she visited you in her youth.”
Fairshade’s eyes glistened. “Yes, Keizen. Why, she would have been just a cub when she came.” Kai inclined his head.
“We are here to rescue you, King Fairshade,” Cal said. Fairshade looked at the orc. “My name is Cal, I’m from… I’m also from Rawdriad Forest.”
Fairshade gazed at him. His eyes were lightest shade of blue, like the sky on a hot summer’s day.
“What if I told you I didn’t want to be rescued?” He got up and stepped to the middle of the room. “What if I told you that I surrendered the crown?”
“Your people need you, Your Majesty!” Cist had been imploring Fairshade for close to an hour. Kai had alternated between shifting his weight from foot to foot, to sitting on the ground to watching the conversations. He was now cross-legged in the corner, his eyes closed.
Cal was looking at the books on the bookshelf. Two were in a script that he couldn’t understand. He picked up the one on top and started flipping through it. A pen that had been serving as a bookmark fell out.
“Thaylia is unrecognisable now. That fiend Fetter has turned the most beautiful city in all of Dresham into a ghost town.”
It turned out that Fairshade was a man of few words. Besides the initial conversation when his visitors dropped in, he had said little else, much to Cist’s chagrin.
“I hope you don’t mind me reading your diary, Your Highness.” Cal was sitting on Fairshade’s sorry excuse for a bed, thumbing through the first few pages.
The deposed king shook his head. Cist made to stop Cal but something in Fairshade’s sad smile made him hesitate.
“It’s not so much a diary as much as an autobiography.”
For the next several minutes, the only sound in Fairshade’s chamber was the gentle crackling of torches in the chamber and the parchment rubbing against one another when Cal turned the pages.
Cist was leaning on the wall, opposite from Kai. His pacing back and forth pointed to a man stuck in a maelstrom of frustration, fatigue and mourning.
“I had no idea.” Cal snapped the book shut and placed it on the bed. Cradling his chin with his mottled, green thumbs, he regarded Fairshade.
Cist pushed himself off the wall. “No idea of what?”
Fairshade’s sigh was heavy and long. Cal strode across the room and sat on the sawn off log to the king’s right. “We’ll let His Majesty start.”
The king eyed the orc. “An orc, a werejaguar and the leader of the Lightblades were the last people I would have thought would hear this story.” He stood up, knees cricking.
“I have been groomed for the throne the moment I was born. With a perfect pedigree, my earlier days were a blur of education in politics, diplomacy and the art of war.
“The night had come where I was to publicly challenge the then King Portmayer. He graciously accepted the challenge. I remember seeking his counsel on various matters when I was just a young diplomat. ‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown’, he said when I asked him about being king.
“The night came of our fight. I found myself with my sword pointing at his throat. It was the fight I had been training for my entire life and I had just beaten him. Like my entire life, that fight too seemed to have been a blur.”
His knuckles turned white as his fists started to shake. “He… impaled himself on my sword. Ran himself through it so that his chin was resting on the hand guard. He smiled at me as the life faded from his eyes.”
“I remember that fight,” Cist said. He was standing in front of Fairshade, arms crossed. “It was a fantastic victory–”
Fairshade slammed his fists on the table, causing it to splinter. Kai jumped to his feet, his lance at the ready. “It was a tainted victory!” Fairshade shouted, eyes trembling. “I had already defeated him. He didn’t have to give his life for me to be king.”
Fairshade covered his face with his hands. “Ever since that night, I feel like I have been cursed. I have been waiting for someone to take my life every moonshift I have been king.”
“You have served Thaylia well, Your Majesty. The leaders of the townships respect you. Your people adore you. Border skirmishes have been kept to a minimum.”
“Yet I have felt that someone is plotting to drive a blade into my back at every turn.” Fairshade turned his tired, grey face to Cist. “All my life, my decisions have never been my own. Surrendering the crown to Fetter has been the first thing I’ve done that’s of my own accord.”
“I know what it’s like to feel like you have no control over your life,” Cal said. Kai had come across and joined the rest of them at the table, sitting across from Cal. “I fought against what fate had in store for me and yearned for a way out.”
Fairshade was regarding the orc with an intense stare. Cal paused and breathed deeply. “As an orc, you could imagine I didn’t have much going for me in life. One day I left my horde, the forest… everything. I started again. I chose to look for meaning beyond looting and to fight for what was right, whatever that meant.” Cal glanced at Kai. The werejaguar was staring at him as well.
“It wasn’t easy at the beginning; I made many wrong turns. I had strong people, good people to help me stay on the right path. Fetter took someone close to me as well. I decided to go on. I didn’t know where I was going, but I’ve ended up here and somehow I feel like this is the right place to be.” Cal leaned in to Fairshade. “There is no shame in fearing death, but there is shame in running from adversity. Pain is a privilege.”
“The pain we all want to overcome now is Fetter’s iron-fisted tyranny,” Cist said, picking up where Cal left off. “If it is strong, good people that you lack, I swear on my life that I and the rest of the Lightblades will protect you, no matter where you go.”
“Even if it is beyond the shadows?” A grain of hope shone in Fairshade’s eyes.
Cist paused. “If Your Majesty so desires it.” He extended an arm towards the king. Fairshade hesitated.
“And what of you two?” Fairshade said, looking at Cal then Kai.
“Fetter took the life of my brother many moonshifts ago. I thirst for vengeance.”
“Vegeance is a powerful motivator,” Fairshade said. “Just make sure that it doesn’t consume you in its own quest to satiate its undying hunger.” Kai opened his mouth then closed it.
“I was on my way to tear Fetter a new asshole when I found out that you were still alive. I thought if I could form a party with a king, how much easier would that make it?”
Fairshade cocked his head at him. “You… aren’t really from Rawdriad, are you?”
Cal grinned. “Nah, I’m from a bit further out.”
Fairshade turned and looked back at Cist. He took his outstretched arm and clasped it. “If the legendary Lightblades would come out of the shadows for me, then I really have nothing to fear, do I?”
They walked out of Fairshade’s prison the king in the middle, Cist at the front and Kai and Cal either side of him and slightly behind. Fairshade eyed the min
otaur corpse on the ground then Ferros’ broken body further up.
“You have gone through great hardship to reach me. For that, I thank you.”
“It is nothing, Your Majesty.” Cist was trying his best not to look at the body of his brethren. “Your salvation is of the utmost importance.”
Cal had allocated his points before leaving Fairshade’s chamber. To his pleasant surprise, his axe level had also increased to C, allowing him to carry the minotaur’s axe on his back without any discomfort.
He pored through the stat sheets of his new and improved party while trying to adjust to the new location and weight of his primary weapon.
Oh shit… now this was one bad-ass party.
NAME: Callahan Rogers
AGE: 29 (Earth)
CLASS: Orc Fighter
LVL: 34
HP: 374/374
MP: 501/501
AFF: Earth (x1)
STR: 100+9%+6%+15%+80%
DEF: 90+5%+5%+14%
AGL: 89+11%+12%+18%
INT: 103+3%+9%+27%
ABILITY: Examine, Verdant Whisper
SKILL: Earth Wall – Level 11 – Next Level in 96%
Earthquake – Level 8 – Next Level in 8%
WEAPON: Axe – Level C – Next Level in 93%
NAME: Kai
AGE: 48 (Terrafaytum)
CLASS: Werejaguar Warrior
LVL: 34
HP: 360/360
MP: 308/308
AFF: Fire (x1)
STR: 110+8%+6%+15%
DEF: 105+10%+5%+14%
AGL: 117+4%+12%+18%
INT: 81+11%+9%+27%
ABILITY: Examine
SKILL:
Flaming Spear – Level 13 – Next Level in 74%
Fireball – Level 7 – Next Level in 85%
WEAPON: Lance/Spear – Level C – Next Level in 98%
NAME: Cist
AGE: 82 (Terrafaytum)
CLASS: Lightblade Assassin
LVL: 55
HP: 620/620
MP: 690/690
AFF: Wind (x2)
STR: 135+16%+2%+1%
DEF: 121+15%+2%+1%
AGL: 170+11%+1%+3%
INT: 149+27%+3%+2%
ABILITY: Examine, Track, Lockpick