by Clayton Wood
The skin had nearly closed over his wound, a slight knob where the break had been.
“What's wrong?” Erasmus asked. Kalibar hesitated, then continued forward, shaking his head.
“Nothing,” he muttered.
The hallway opened up into the main lobby of the Tower, a massive room with walls three stories high. Usually deserted at this hour, the lobby was filled with guards and Battle-Weavers; each door was covered by a few guards, the hallways leading to other risers walled off by Battle-Weaver gravity shields. On the ceiling, more guards stood, blocking the various hallways on the reverse-polarity section of the lobby. Three Battle-Weavers stood between Kalibar and the lobby; the Battle-Weavers instantly recognized Kalibar and Erasmus, saluting sharply. Kalibar pointed to the captain.
“This man needs medical attention,” he declared. Erasmus turned to Kalibar.
“So do you,” he countered. Kalibar shook his head, showing him his forearm. The skin had mended completely, the knob of bone nearly smoothed over. Erasmus's jaw dropped. “How in the hell...?”
“No idea,” Kalibar interjected. “Not complaining though. Come on,” he added. “We have a war to run.” He turned to one of the Battle-Weavers. “You,” he stated, pointing directly at the man. “Get me High Weaver Urson.” As the head of the Battle-Weavers, Kalibar would need Urson to coordinate any large-scale counterattack. The Battle-Weaver nodded crisply.
“Yes, Grand Weaver.”
Kalibar turned to one of the other guards. “I want the Tower evacuated now, he ordered. “The enemy came through the evacuation tunnels...they came from the 40th through the 42nd floors. They have a weapon I've never seen before,” he added. “Our magic will be useless against it.”
“Yes Grand Weaver,” the guard stated, running to his superior officer to relay the order. Kalibar surveyed the lobby, collecting his thoughts.
“Now,” he began – and then he heard shouting from above.
He glanced upward, at the upside-down lobby three stories above, and saw something small rolling across the ceiling-floor, passing through the legs of one of the guards and coming to a stop in the center of the ceiling.
A small white sphere.
“Run!” Kalibar shouted, grabbing Erasmus and bolting toward the double doors leading outside. He glanced upward, seeing the sphere dropping down from the reverse-floor above.
And then there was light.
Massive cords of blue light pulled away from the walls, the floors. Small rays were torn from each soldier on the ceiling, more rays pulling upward from each man around Kalibar. He saw a faint blue light rise from his own body, felt the magic draining from his mind. Still he ran, dragging Erasmus along with him, racing toward those double-doors.
Then he heard the screams.
“Duck!” he yelled, pulling Erasmus to the side, toward a granite table nearby. He dropped onto his back, sliding underneath the table and curling into a ball. Something slammed into the ground where they'd been only seconds ago.
A body.
More bodies fell onto the ground, guards and Battle-Weavers dropping from above, no longer held to the ceiling by the reverse-polarity gravity field. Tables and chairs fell onto the granite floor, shattering on impact. Water from the fountain on the ceiling above splashed onto the ground, forming a rapidly expanding pool. The ice-cold water rushed over Kalibar and Erasmus, soaking through their clothes instantly.
Kalibar could only watch as the bodies continued to fall, some striking the men rushing for cover. One guard slipped on the water, falling to the ground with a thump. A large statue from the ceiling above fell on his head, crushing it.
Then, mercifully, nothing more fell.
“Go!” Kalibar shouted, grabbing the edge of the table with both hands and pulling himself from underneath it, sliding through the chilly water. He rose to his feet, breaking into a run toward the double-doors a mere thirty feet away, Erasmus right behind him.
A high-pitched screeching sound tore at their eardrums from behind.
Kalibar glanced over his shoulder, spotting the white sphere levitating in the center of the lobby. Countless layers of rapidly rotating gravity fields surrounded the object. Except these weren't ordinary gravity fields; they had large holes punched through them. Each layer spun in a different direction than the other; at the outer edge was a much larger gravity field, glowing an intense blue.
Pulling inward.
Kalibar leaped toward the double-doors, grabbing hold of the polished doorknob with both hands. He felt the air pulling backward at him, sucking inward toward that white sphere, and tightened his grip. Erasmus grabbed the other doorknob, holding on for dear life. People and furniture slid backward through the water on the smooth granite floor, flying up into the air toward those madly rotating gravity fields. One of the wooden chairs was the first to strike the outermost layer.
It shattered.
Men screamed as they flew toward the deadly vacuum, dissolving into a horrid spray of blood and tissue as they struck the gravity fields. More furniture slid upward off of the ground, some already shattered by the fall from the ceiling; they were similarly destroyed.
Kalibar felt his legs rise from the ground, felt them being pulled toward that maelstrom, saw Erasmus's fingers slipping from the doorknob. Felt his own fingers, slick with sweat, sliding away from the smooth metal.
And then it stopped.
Kalibar fell onto his belly, the air bursting from his lungs. He heard a splash beside him, saw Erasmus lying in a shallow pool of water, groaning in pain. Kalibar grunted, rising to his knees, and turned around.
The white sphere hovered there, the remains of every man that had been in the lobby – over a hundred living beings – falling to a massive heap below. Kalibar stared in disbelief at the smooth white sphere, unable to believe that something so small could have done all this.
And then it happened again.
Blue light poured from the walls, the ceiling...even the heap of remains below, sucking inward toward the levitating sphere. The light from the heap was brightest of all, the now-exposed bone fragments relinquishing what remained of their magical stores. Kalibar felt his body go numb, and stayed there on his knees in the cold water. He knew he should get up, open the Tower doors and make a run for it.
But he could only stare.
An army of Battle-Weavers, a military comprising over a half-million soldiers, an Empire spanning countless miles...all of it could be defeated by something no larger than an orange.
Xanos, he realized with simple certainly, had already won.
He turned to Erasmus, who was shouting something at him, gesturing for him to get up, and smiled sadly.
“Goodbye old friend,” he murmured.
And then the door burst open, throwing Erasmus to the ground. He slid in the water, coming to a stop on his side. Kalibar stared uncomprehendingly at Erasmus, then saw a boot step down before Erasmus's face, blocking Kalibar's view.
A golden boot.
A gauntleted hand reached down, grabbing Erasmus and lifting him to his feet. A moment later, Kalibar felt something grab the back of his shirt, lifting him bodily to his feet. He turned, and saw a pair of blue eyes staring down at him.
“Hey boss,” Darius greeted, putting a gauntleted hand on Kalibar's shoulder. “Sorry I'm late.”
Kalibar stared at Darius in disbelief, his jaw slack. Erasmus grabbed his other shoulder, pushing him toward the open door.
“Come on!” the Grand Runic urged, “...we have to get out of here before that thing goes off again!” Darius frowned, turning to look at the white sphere levitating above the floor. To Kalibar's eye, the blue light around the thing was starting to wane, the heap of bodies almost drained of their magic.
“What, that little thing?” the bodyguard asked.
He strode across the room toward the sphere, his boots splashing in the red-tinged water.
“Get away from it!” Kalibar shouted after him. “It's about to go off!” Darius ignored h
im, walking right up to the sphere and grabbing it in his gauntleted hand. He stared at it for a moment, then closed his fist, his fingers covering it completely.
Kalibar stared at the bodyguard in disbelief, watching as Darius's fist clenched, wisps of blue light glowing from the spaces between his fingers. Darius squeezed harder, his eyes narrowing slightly. The blue light between his fingers intensified.
Then it exploded.
A massive burst of magic shot outward from the sphere, slamming into Kalibar's mind and blinding his eyes. He cried out covering his eyes with one arm. The flash of light vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving the lobby in darkness. Faint starlight shone in through the windows, a few dim rays lighting on Darius's golden armor, sending scattered beams across the floor in random patterns.
Darius opened his hand, white dust pouring out of it.
“Darius!” Erasmus cried, running up to the bodyguard and giving him a bear hug. “You glorious bastard! How did you do that?” Darius shrugged, looking rather perturbed by Erasmus's unexpected affection.
“I squeezed real hard,” he muttered. When Erasmus stared at him blankly, he smirked. “I wouldn't try it if I were you, though,” he added. Kalibar frowned.
“I can't believe that grabbing it didn't trigger defensive runes,” he stated. “Nearly all runic weapons have them.”
“Lucky me,” Darius grumbled. Then he gave a loud, high-pitched whistle, and someone extraordinarily familiar walked through the double-doors of the lobby. Kalibar's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat.
“Kyle!” he exclaimed.
* * *
“Kalibar!” Kyle shouted, running up to the old man with his arms wide open. He jumped into Kalibar's arms, and Kalibar squeezed him tight for a long moment before lowering him to the ground. “My boy!” he exclaimed, looking Kyle over. Kyle gasped, staring at his adopted father with disbelief.
“Your eyes!” Kyle blurted out. Kalibar gave a weary smile.
“It's a long story,” he replied. Kyle turned to look at Darius, who gave him the slightest of nods. He nodded back, grinning ear to ear, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of joy sweep over him. Darius had given Kalibar his eyes back! He turned back to Kalibar, then glanced at the lobby beyond, his smile fading.
“What happened here?” he asked. The lobby had been completely destroyed; it was flooded, for one, with a heap of reddish mush and fragments of stone and wood in the center. All of the furniture was gone, and the entire lobby was deserted save for Kalibar and Erasmus.
“Another long story,” Kalibar said with a sigh. Then he shook his head at Kyle. “What happened to you?”
“Yeah, that's a really long story,” Kyle answered, realizing that he hadn't come up with a cover story for what had happened to them. He couldn't very well tell Kalibar what had actually happened; he'd have to remember to talk to Darius about that later.
“They'll be time for stories later,” Erasmus interjected sternly. “Unless you're forgetting about the enemies storming the Tower as we speak.”
“Where are they?” Darius asked. Erasmus rolled his eyes.
“How would I know?” he countered. “Isn't that your job?” Darius raised an eyebrow, glancing at the heap of debris in the center of the lobby.
“Isn't that yours?” he shot back. Erasmus's eyes widened with indignation.
“How could...” he blurted out, slamming his mouth shut suddenly. He paused for a long moment, then pointed a finger at Darius. “There's something seriously wrong with you,” he accused. “I ought to have you hanged!” But Darius wasn't even paying attention; the bodyguard's blue eyes were staring off into space, his expression suddenly unreadable.
“What?” Kalibar asked. Darius turned to face him, his voice tense.
“Where's Ariana?”
“What?” Kalibar repeated. “She's...I think she's in her room sleeping,” he guessed. Darius said nothing, bolting across the lobby toward one of the risers. Kyle ran after the bodyguard, his heart pounding in his chest, Kalibar and Erasmus following close behind. Kyle felt panic grip him; he'd never seen Darius so frantic before. He struggled to keep pace with the bodyguard, nearly slipping on the wet floor. Then he remembered his gravity boots, activating them and speeding a foot above the water, leaving a spray of it in his wake. Kalibar dodged the spray, somehow managing to keep pace with Darius and Kyle. Erasmus, however, soon fell behind, eventually collapsing against a wall. Kalibar hesitated, slowing his pace for a moment, but the Grand Runic waved him on.
“Go!” he shouted. “I'll coordinate the Battle-Weavers until you get back.”
Kyle followed Darius across the hallway, toward the riser, but Kalibar motioned down another hallway.
“That riser is destroyed,” he informed. “We can use this one.”
They followed Kalibar's advice, eventually coming to a stop at a riser. Kalibar activated it, and they rose upward quickly, each floor a blur as they sped toward the 41st floor...to Kalibar's retirement suite, and Ariana's room.
The riser slowed, but Darius bolted from it before it had even stopped, leaping up onto the hallway floor. Kyle and Kalibar ran behind the bodyguard, struggling to keep up. Darius skid to a stop at Kalibar's door.
“I've got it,” Kalibar shouted, rushing to Darius's side and pressing his hand on the door. It swung open, and Darius rushed in, sprinting toward Ariana's room. He slammed through her door with his armored shoulder, nearly taking it off of its hinges. Kyle rushed in behind the bodyguard, followed by a winded Kalibar.
Then they all stopped.
“Ariana?” Kalibar called out, walking up to Ariana's bed and kneeling before it. There, in the center of the bed, lay Ariana. She was covered from her belly down by soft white sheets, her arms tucked underneath. She was sleeping quietly, her face turned away from them. Kyle frowned, surprised that she hadn't been awakened by Darius's violent entrance. Kalibar grabbed Ariana's shoulder, shaking it gently but firmly.
“Ariana, wake up,” he coaxed. When she didn't respond, Kalibar put a hand on her cheek, turning her face toward them.
Cold, dead eyes stared back at them.
Kalibar shouted, leaping backward from Ariana as if he'd been stung, and Kyle felt his entire body go numb. He stared at Ariana's pale face in disbelief.
“No,” Kalibar whimpered, shaking his head and backing away. His back struck the wall, and he slumped slowly to his bottom, his legs giving out underneath him. “No, no...”
Kyle stared mutely into Ariana's unblinking eyes, already dried and glazed over. He felt lightheaded, as if his mind were rising upward from his body. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and though he could feel his hands, they didn't feel as if they belonged to him. He turned, seeing Kalibar stumble toward Ariana's bed. The old man threw the sheets off of her, then reached one arm under her shoulders, the other behind her knees. He lifted her gently from the bed, cradling her in his arms.
“My girl,” he murmured, tears pouring down his cheeks. “My sweet little girl.” He rocked her from side to side, cradling the back of her head with one hand. He closed his eyes, burying his face into her shoulder. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, a muffled sob escaping his lips. His shoulders shook then as he wept. “I'm so sorry, love.”
Kyle stared at them silently, still unable to move, unable to even think. Or feel. He just felt numb. He knew he should be reacting like Kalibar, should be feeling something, but he just couldn't. He wondered if there was something wrong with him, wondered if the others would think he didn't care.
Then he felt a cool, metallic hand on his shoulder, saw Darius staring at him. The bodyguard's expression was unreadable.
“I'm sorry, Kyle,” he murmured.
And then the dam broke.
A low wail escaped Kyle's lips, and he stumbled forward toward Ariana and Kalibar, landing on the bed just before his legs gave out. Kalibar wrapped one arm around Kyle's shoulders, holding him close, while Kyle stared at Ariana, her face still lovely despite the terrible palene
ss of her skin. Kalibar had already closed her eyes, for which Kyle was grateful.
Kyle realized he was crying, his body wracked by terrible sobs. He leaned in close to her, wrapping his arms around her slender shoulders and hugging her close. She was terribly cold; he had the sudden mad thought that if he warmed her up, she would come back to life.
“I'm sorry son,” Kalibar whispered, rocking Kyle and Ariana gently. Kyle felt the old man's cheek press up against his own, felt the wetness of Kalibar's tears. “I failed her.”
“No,” Kyle mumbled, shaking his head. He let go of Ariana, wiping his own tears away with the back of his hand. He turned around on the bed, perched on its edge, and found Darius staring silently at Ariana's face, the gilded warrior as still as a statue.
Kyle felt the slightest spark of hope alight within his heart.
“Save her,” he pleaded, standing up from the bed and walking over to Darius. He grabbed the man's armored bicep. “Save her,” he insisted, his voice rising with desperation. Darius turned to stare at Kyle, his stony expression unchanged. He shook his head slightly. Kyle felt another sob burst from him, and he grabbed Darius's shoulders, shaking them back and forth. The bodyguard didn't budge.
“Save her!” Kyle shouted.
“I can't,” Darius whispered.
“You can!” Kyle yelled. He shook Darius harder – to no effect – then balled his hands into fists, striking the bodyguard's chest-plate. “You have to!”
Darius said nothing, not even bothering to block Kyle's blows. Kyle slammed both fists into the man's armor, hitting the bodyguard as hard as he could. Then he stumbled backward, striking the edge of Ariana's bed with the backs of his knees, falling onto his butt on the edge of the bed. He pointed at Darius, his eyes filled with tears.