*
With a tremendous crash, the fourth and final crystal tendril fell apart. The energy within exploded outwards in a pulse of pure force, which then proceeded to rebound back into the ç'aether. The wall of crystals shook violently as the shock-wave impacted, causing the already sizeable cracks to rapidly expand. The end result was both predictable and inevitable: total structural failure. Like a pane of glass struck with a wrecking ball, the ç'aether shattered, as a hundred boulder sized shards of crystal fell towards the helpless group below. However, by some miracle of fate or luck, not a single piece of broken ç'aether hit flesh or dented metal. In fact, the distribution of the shards was almost a statistical impossibility, as not a single fragment fell within the circle of dreaming occupants.
When Barsch awoke almost an hour later, his first sight was of a jagged piece of ç'aether, lying five inches away from his face. Strangely, this did not seem to trouble him too terribly. However, in his current state, he doubted that there was anything that could ruin his morning. He then tried to get to his feet, fully expecting to feel the fatigue from the previous day to return, but it did not come.
With a gleeful cry, he jumped to his feet, amazed at his newfound strength. Flexing his fingers, he found that almost all of his aches and pains had disappeared. He felt as if he could run for a mile without tiring, or climb a mountain with one hand behind his back. As he turned to wake his companions -and show them his revitalized strength- he saw something which brought a smile to his face.
“Kingston, wake up, you have to see this!” He had to repeat his outburst two more times before the old man finally heard him. When he did, he got up immediately, displaying the same energy that Barsch had discovered moments earlier.
“What is it m'boy? Danger?” He was already looking around the cave, searching for any signs of an imminent attack. And then, he saw it.
“Well now, how about that?” he said, a broad smile bringing youth to his aged face. Together they stared at what had formerly been a wall of rock covered in ç'aether. It was now an opening, as wide and high as the wall had been, but it was what it led to that prompted all of the smiles: it led outside. Bright, morning light shone through the opening, obscuring the land beyond, but it was an exit, no doubt. A gentle breeze brought with it the scent of grass and flowers, while the sound of flowing water foretold of a river or waterfall nearby.
“I can't believe we were so close, and we didn't even know it! I guess Maloch and Alza were right about trusting their instincts, huh?”
A muffled sound from behind them made them turn, where they were faced with another surprising sight. Alza and Maloch, standing up together, a vibrant look on their faces. Alza was not smiling, but her eyes were lit up and full of energy, a nice change from their usual dullness. Maloch was practically hopping on his feet, so full of energy that he did not know what to do with himself.
“What happened?” Alza's voice was still cool apathy, but there was a hint of something deeper, perhaps relief? For an instant, her gaze met Barsch's, causing both of them to look away. He could recall going into her dream, after his own finished, but what had happened -and what he had said- were lost to him. He only wished fervently that he had not made a fool out of himself.
“It looks as if the ç'aether experienced some sort of feedback loop, giving us the energy instead of taking it, which then weakened the structure to the point of total collapse.” Looking at Barsch's mystified face, he added, “We overloaded it and it broke.”
“We won. All of us. Together.”
What more could he say? In reality, Barsch did not truly care how or why it had broken, all he needed to know was that there was an exit. The nightmare was almost over, he told himself, as he gathered his things. However, as he was packing away his sleeping bag, a glimmer of light caught his eye. It was a reflection from the morning light, striking the polished surface of Lanista. While the others were heading towards the exit, he took a moment to study the black blade.
Where the light hit it, it seemed to grow darker instead of lighter, as if it was eating the light to make itself stronger. It's wicked teeth, sharpened to the absolute, adorned each side in an endless circuit. The circuit like lines etched in the surface of the blade were dim now, but they would light up with a dark blue light when the engine was revved.
All in all, an aura of malevolence lay over the sword, from the half-moon tip to the stark metal sheets wrapping the hilt in a grey shroud. Barsch knew that the blade itself was not evil, or even sentient, and that whatever he did with it, it was his own doing. But it was the way it enabled him, the way it fed and encouraged his bloodlust, that scared him. He had always known that he had a violent temper, and that he lost control more easily than others, but that side of him had not risen in many years.
“The Instigator of Violence. I named you well. Ever since I decided to wield you -or was it you who chose to wield me?- nothing has gone according to plan. I place you in my hand, I rev your engine, and suddenly, everything becomes so simple. There is only one thing to decide: who is the enemy? And then, there is only one action to take: rip them to pieces. No worrying if I'm doing the right thing, or if the others are afraid of me, just pure, simple, violence. But I can't do this anymore. I can't control you anymore. Kingston said to embrace you, to let you in and then take control by losing it, but he doesn't understand. I can't even hear myself think, let alone focus on controlling the violence within me. If I were to let myself go, even for an instant, I might hurt the people around me. Alza, Kingston, Maloch, until I'm strong enough, I cannot allow myself to wield you.”
“Maloch, do you have a moment?” The re-mech was still a few paces behind Kingston and Alza.
“Yes, Barsch, how may I help you?” The re-mech was still radiating the same old aura of polite helpfulness, but something had changed in him. Before, he had acted like a servant, or a loyal butler, but now he spoke as if he was merely a friend trying to help his equal. It unnerved Barsch to hear a re-mech speak this way, but the feeling was overshadowed by his pride in Maloch's newfound confidence.
“Well, I was wondering if you could do me a favour? Could you hold onto Lanista for me?”
As he spoke, Barsch picked up the blade from where it had lain. He held it at arm’s length; as if he was afraid it would come alive and strike him at any time. The re-mech considered the blade for a moment, scanning it's surface for any abnormalities. When he was certain that it was not a mechanical problem, he dared to ask, “May I ask why you would want to disarm yourself? In the battles to come, will you not be more vulnerable without a weapon?”
“It's... personal... sorry. I would tell you if I could....”
“I understand, Barsch La Tergan. I will safeguard your blade until you are ready to wield it once more.” With that, the towering re-mech gently took the blade from Barsch's outstretched hands. With a deft movement, he opened a long compartment in his right leg, and slotted the sword in with a click.
“Barsch, Maloch, what are you waiting for?” Kingston was standing just outside the cave, a slightly concerned look on his face. Alza had already disappeared into the unknown lands beyond the exit.
“Sorry! Just had a little trouble finding my... uh... knife?” For a moment, Barsch wondered if Kingston would see through his bad lie, but the old hermit merely nodded his head in an understanding manner, and turned back to face the exit.
After packing up the last of his things, Barsch went to join him, where he was immediately greeted by one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Beyond the cave lay a long, grass-covered valley, surrounded by snow-capped mountains on all sides. In the distance, he could make out a clear, glacial lake, which was fed by several large waterfalls filled with melted snow and ice. The sun was already quite high in the sky, marking the time as late morning. The sun's light illuminated the entire valley, leaving not a single shadow to detract from nature's beauty.
“Do you see it?” Kingston's voice was unusually grim, as he l
ooked with hooded eyes towards the far end of the valley.
“See what?”
In response, Kingston pointed to something barely discernible, a mere blot on the light-dappled horizon. Barsch thought of asking his friend to elaborate, but the chance passing of a cloud overhead darkened the sky just enough for him to see it. From a hill at least five miles away, a cloud of pitch-black smoke had risen. As Barsch pondered the meaning of the out-of-place smoke, a change in the wind direction brought a long-forgotten scent to his nose.
“Sulphur... burnt wood... oil... someone is burning coal nearby,” Kingston said darkly, with a look of outrage twisting his usually placid face.
“Another hermit?”
In that instant, all Barsch wanted was to take back his foolish words. Kingston's look of outrage had become pure anger upon hearing the question, which, given his past, was no real surprise. With an effort to contain the scorn in his voice, he answered, “No hermit would ever use coal. We became hermits because we felt that living with nature was both our punishment and our responsibility for what happened to the planet. Any man or woman seeking to further pollute the world would soon be discovered by one of us... and be made to see the error of their ways. By force if necessary.”
“Ah, sorry, but couldn't it be a re-mech, constructing a new ecologically friendly building? From the looks of this place, it's somehow escaped the worst of the smog and acid rain, so wouldn't that make it the perfect place to start anew?”
“For the same reason as Kingston gave, it cannot be a re-mech. We are bound by our code to use only eco-safe building materials and non-hazardous power sources.”
“So who could it be? If it's not another hermit or a re-mech?”
It was then, that everything came together for Kingston. With the epiphany still fresh on his mind, he said, “You are right, only a madman would do something like this. And I can only think of one madman who would benefit from harming the planet.”
Alza, having kept quiet until then, finally spoke, “The madman that we know nothing about?”
“I'm afraid that you are wrong about that. We do know something... we know where he lives...”
Awakening Page 209