Nothing but bones 2: The chaos rifts

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Nothing but bones 2: The chaos rifts Page 21

by J. Carrarn


  Trying to strengthen the weakening stone, he drew mana from the wyrm orb. Orange glowing stone tendrils wrapped around the tower, thicker at the base, and slowly the tower stopped shaking. The world that seemed to sway left and right steadied itself, and Solus fell on his back, exhausted. With a screech, he surged back up, his aching back awash with more pain.

  Dust fell through his fingers as the mana-orb was drained and pulverized into dust. Grabbing another two, he tried to remember how many he had taken from the basket. Five, six? He couldn't recall.

  As he felt the thudding in his chest calm, a heavy blow rocked the tower, then another. A snapping sound came from below, and with a lurching sensation, the tower tilted. Sliding off the edge, Solus felt more than saw the tower snap in half and fall after him. An enormous black thing, similar to the others, but ten times larger and with a gaping maw filled with glowing lava, stood beside the tower. It struck at the still-standing piece with its enormous fists.

  A thin layer of lava covered the ground all around the tower, and as he fell toward it, Solus drew deep on his dwindling mana-field. The earth below the lava groaned as a new platform surged out, just in time for Solus to crash into it. Drops of lava still on the platform caused an odd sensation on his skin. Not pain exactly, but far from pleasant. Frantically looking around for a way to escape, he saw dozens of the smaller things rush at him while the large monstrosity grabbed a crumbled part of the shattered pillar.

  Understanding what it was planning to do, Solus cursed, scrambling up and leaping in the direction he hoped the open wasteland would be. Ahead of him was a sea of lava, small vents of black smog rising from the few cracks of earth that still remained. He hadn't gone in this far, had he? Staring further ahead using his senses, he felt the wasteland, far beyond. In between him and the wasteland, the lava shivered softly as it flowed.

  Creating another platform in the lava, Solus jumped toward it. Something howled through the air, hitting him mid-jump and knocking him off course. Panicking, he quickly created another platform, feeling the edges of his vision dimming. It had barely formed when two black hands gripped its sides, and another of the volcanic creatures drew itself up out of the lava.

  Seeing the thing, Solus roared in rage as he fell on the platform. The force of his voice pushed the thing back into the lava but drained him of more of his mana. Taking a weary look around, he saw smaller and larger heads move his way. He needed a way out! Sensing stone below him, he shaped a tunnel straight down. Jumping inside, he closed it, just as lava poured on top. Shoving the scalding stone aside was easier than creating a pillar, but his vision blurred and dimmed even further, so he stopped.

  He was deep inside earth now, and he felt it shudder and groan all around him. The red-hot stone caused even his thick grey skin to hurt, and the pain from his back had yet to dissipate. His mana was so low that it worried him.

  Rummaging in his pouch, he took out the last three mana-orbs. So few… he cursed and stuffed two back. Looking at the one in his hand, he began draining it as he recalled the filled container he had left with Sig. He slammed a fist on the ground in frustration and anger, and the stone below cracked and tore. Feeling the sand, stone, and other materials, he realized the stone surrounding him was brittle and weak.

  As he reformed the floor, he could feel the stirrings of a migraine as his head began to pound sickly. Then he began drawing in the stone particles while pushing away any other elements until a thick shield of brittle rock had formed around the room he was in. Drawing the final vestiges of mana from the orb, he finished right as it turned to dust.

  Hanging his head down, he looked around the dimly green glowing room. The pressure outside continued to build up, and the earth shook for as far as he could sense.

  Well, this is just great, he thought as he blew the orb dust from his hand. He put his weary head on the ground as he lay on his side. The amount of stone surrounding the room should keep him safe, at least for a while.

  First, rest.

  He had barely finished the thought before oblivion claimed him.

  Tendraal

  Sig gazed out over the empty wasteland. The two stone boxes filled with mana-orbs stood beside him, still untouched, a slight layer of dust forming on the top of the containers.

  "How long are we going to wait?" Derin asked carefully. "We've been standing here for two days now."

  "Without Solus, how are we going to get Scathia to do what we want?" Sig replied.

  Derin was quiet for a second, weighing his words carefully.

  "You underestimate yourself and us," he finally said.

  "You can easily end Wyrms, travel through rock and bone, and fly. I wonder if even Solus could best you."

  Sig shook his head, a mock smile on his lips as he turned to Derin. "And you underestimate Solus. You have not seen him when he gets serious."

  "Perhaps. But we can't wait any longer. The rifts keep opening, and if we don't find a way to stop them, Skulltown is doomed. You've heard Tirella's story."

  Sig's response to this was silence, and after a while, Derin sighed and turned back to the others. He ignored their stares and looked at their goal: a massive city sprawling at the foot of and climbing up a tall mountain.

  The mountain stood on the border of a massive cliff from which the wasteland dropped into a vast white basin. The ground shimmered in the sun, and Derin knew he had never seen anything like it.

  The city of Tendraal was just as impressive. Made solely from bone, it dwarfed Skulltown in size. White spires, connected by immense bridges, stood out between a chaotic assortment of structures. The buildings interlocked and wove together like a dense tapestry. Not a piece of earth was left bare. None of the structures seemed to be the same height or shape, creating a chaotic dissimilarity that hurt Derin's eyes.

  A towering wall surrounded the city, while a small band of evenly spaced square outposts stood between the wall and the city. Where the city touched the cliff leading down into the white basin stood an assortment of steep bone staircases. The city and the height of the cliff obscured what was below them.

  "Are we leaving yet?" Tatjie asked, lying on her side, turning her gaze to the city. "I want to see that city up close!"

  Derin shot her an annoyed glance. "Remember what we came here for?"

  "Sure, sure! But come on, aren't you the least bit curious?" She pointed at the three tallest pillars, connected at the top by an enormous skull, and her eyes sparkled. The pillars rose above the city, built high against the side of the mountain.

  "Look at that! They should call that Skulltown!"

  Derin was about to laugh when Sig stepped beside him.

  "We will leave if he isn't back by tonight. It will be better if we enter the city after dark as it'll make it easier to hide."

  Sigs sounded tired and uncertain, but he got two loud cheers in reply.

  Tatjie smiled at Tirella, and raised a balled fist in celebration. "Finally! Tell me, how does this city compare to Bastion?"

  The orange undead shook her head, laughed, and pointed to a spot far away from the city. "If it stretched from there to there, it could compare," she said, moving her finger to a point at the other side of the city. She had indicated a region at least ten times the size of Tendraal.

  Derin and Sig shared a horrified look.

  "And that city fell within days?" Derin muttered.

  "We leave at dusk," Sig said, turning back to his vigil.

  —

  When Solus woke up, he knew something was wrong. He was hot, and his throat hurt when he instinctively drew a breath. He still felt tired, and his head hurt. A soft bubbling and sloshing sound came from all around him, while an orange glow penetrated his eyelids. Opening them, he groaned in pain. The walls around him glowed red with an intensely bright light that hurt his eyes. Covering them with his hand, he got up and gazed between his fingers, seeing orange and red swirls on all the walls.

  He could sense only molten rock surrounding him. Lava and cha
os raged outside of the rapidly disintegrating stone walls of his hastily constructed sanctuary. Although he had made the walls as thick as possible, over half of the stone had already been claimed by the magma.

  A slowly growing panic began to overwhelm him, making it hard to think. He sat down with a heavy thud, and the stone groaned and shook from the impact.

  "Not again."

  He quickly activated his stone-shaping ability in a desperate attempt to repair the stone below him. As he did, his eyes widened in surprise and relief. There was less lava directly below him, and more of the protective layer of stone had remained intact. Scanning even further down, through the chaotic lava that battered his senses, he finally found solid bedrock.

  That's where I need to go! he thought before gritting his teeth. There were almost a hundred yards of lava between him and the colder, malleable rock.

  Scanning upward, he could not detect the surface through the lava. Searching for stone to strengthen the walls, he found nothing.

  Down it is.

  It was the only option. The sound of the sloshing and popping magma was getting louder.

  I have to hurry!

  He drew in the surrounding stone, feeling it rebel against him. As the room shrunk around him, the walls closing in, he tried to create a pipe of stone through the lava. Every few feet he pushed the stone down cost him more of his already severely depleted mana. He scrambled for one of the two orbs he still had left.

  Draining it, he continued pushing the stone through the lava, but halfway to his goal, he ran out of stone to mold. Staring at the pipe that was already glowed crimson from the heat, its outside crumbling, he knew that time was swiftly running out. The stone would dissolve if he waited any longer.

  Steeling himself, he jumped down into the pipe, trying to draw the stone from above with him as he fell. He managed to grab some, and he drew it along with him as he fell, trying to strengthen the tube. Around him, he felt the tube buckle, the extra stone barely able to hold it together.

  Just before he crashed into the bottom of the tunnel, Solus knew he was making a big mistake. Pressing his hands against the sides of the tunnel, he desperately tried to stop his downward momentum. It was too late. His feet struck the bottom of the tunnel, punching through the stone.

  Pain, so much pain—he only just stopped himself from roaring and blasting the rest of the tube apart. His legs were ablaze in red agony. As his concentration flagged, he instinctively drew all the stone to him in one big rush, creating a thick, small round container around him. The energy of his mana-field was instantly depleted, while the mana-orb crumbled to dust in his hand. Jerking his legs out of the crumbling stone and atop the small ledge he had made, he stared in shock at his blackened grey skin, covered in large orange blisters. His stone armor had disintegrated just above the knees.

  Staring through the holes in the ground, he saw glowing yellow lava oozing through. With immense effort, he sealed the holes, pushing the lava back. Black spots appeared in his vision, and he heard a muted, soft ping as he was about to black out. Feeling for the last of the orbs, he fumbled with it. When he finally got his fingers around it, he drained the mana from it as fast as he could.

  The energy streamed straight for his legs, leaving his mana-field sorely depleted. His damaged legs sucked up all the energy from the orb, and they began to itch like crazy. When the mana-orb dulled, he was as tired as before, and his legs were still black, but the orange blisters had withdrawn, leaving only a few nasty-looking scars behind.

  With a last helpless look at the mana-orb, he drained it dry, feeling a small trickle reach his mana-field. Barely enough to keep him from passing out.

  No, he thought, forcing himself to stay conscious.

  If he lost consciousness now, he would die. Inspecting the tiny room, too small to even stand up in, he sensed the outside layer of stone disintegrating steadily. The larger chunks drifted up as the container slowly sank through the lava. It took moments before he realized the implications of this. Scanning down, his meager pool of remaining mana draining from the effort, he felt the stone below get closer. It was still too far away to mold, but the small stone capsule was steadily sinking toward the bedrock.

  He tried to remain still, ignoring the pain from his legs, the weariness of his body, and the soft bubbling of the molten rock from outside. It reminded him of the sounds Norg's stomach had made after he had eaten Wyrm flesh. The image caused a strained smile to surface on his face. Trying to focus on the happy memory, he snapped awake when he felt the stone capsule's momentum slowing.

  Scanning down, he knew he wouldn't make it. The stone surrounding him was melting away too fast, causing the sinking to slow. Small yellow cracks appeared in the stone beside him. The temperature in the small room was so high that the hairs on his head singed and clumped together into a sweaty mass.

  Looking at his legs, he shivered as he realized what he might have to do. He waited, trying to regain some energy until the stone was ready to crack.

  Rising, standing hunched over in the small room, he focused on his remaining mana. It wasn't a lot. Taking a deep breath of the scalding and stinking hot air, memories of his life flashed through his mind. A single one stood out, for a second crystal clear amidst the others.

  He lay on his back, on the ground, moments after absorbing his first mana-orb. Not ended, still existing, he stared at the sky, enjoying the moment and the fact that he hadn't crumbled into dust.

  Remembering how he had felt back then and the prospect of all that was to come, he allowed his anger to come to the fore, pushing away all fear and hesitation. He wasn't ready to end yet! He wanted to experience so much more first, perhaps even find a companion, just as Norg and Vingria had! Pushed by his anger and desire to continue existing, he drew on the entirety of the stone that remained tightly around him in thick armor.

  Not today!

  For a split second, he hung in the air. Then the lava flooded the stone capsule. The searing heat slammed into him. He began using his arms and legs to force himself down through the liquid rock. The term swimming popped in his head as he headed down.

  The stone armor barely held, when suddenly his arms felt more resistance from the slightly cooler, thicker lava. Pushing forward, he struck something solid and sensed the presence of the stone. With no regard to the consequences, he shaped it, creating a tunnel down. Abruptly an opening formed below him, and together with the lava, he plummeted down into a narrow tube. He continued making it deeper, but although it became easier as the stone cooled, the last vestiges of his mana were almost completely drained.

  His vision blurred and his head pounded. He felt groggy and unfocused, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He knew he had to close the hole above him, or the lava would flow down and end him as he fell unconscious. Ignoring the pain in his head, he closed the tunnel above him as he fell. His vision faltered and then blinked out. Completely blind now, he kept falling, unable to even sense the stone around him. A string of notification pings rang out, followed by a single gong-sound that he had never heard from his status screen before.

  He struck the bottom of the tunnel, stone splinters flying everywhere while the bottom crumbled below him, and he blacked out.

  —

  The setting sun dressed the white bone city of Tendraal in vibrant hues of orange and pink. Dozens of tiny figures moved from the wasteland toward the city gates. Some dragged the remains of wyrmlings, others odd bone sleds with unmoving shapes on them.

  Derin examined them. Most were familiar variations of the low-grade undead he knew from Skulltown. He was trying to find more highly evolved undead to compare to himself and his companions to see what they were up against.

  "We are going," Sig said, his voice emotionless and steady. He grabbed the two containers, easily holding both in front of his chest.

  Derin sighed and got up. He opened his mouth to say something, but then Tatjie jumped up, looking at the far-off city with glittering eyes.

 
"About time!" she shouted with a large grin. Not holding back, she grabbed Tirella's arm and drew her to her feet.

  Tirella frowned at this rough treatment, her thick yellow eyebrows almost touching, but she didn't resist.

  "Let's go!" Tatjie said, marching toward the city, dragging Tirella with her.

  Derin saw Tirella look at him in confusion.

  He shrugged, not sure what to tell her. Tatjie had always been quirky, but ever since Tirella had joined them, this trait had become more pronounced. He turned to Sig, who was already heading toward the city. His face was unreadable, as it usually was.

  "Why do I get the feeling this isn't going to end well…?" Derin mumbled to himself.

  As they neared the city, they started walking closer together. The other undead heading into Tendraal all seemed to belong to groups of seven or eight. Many of them were coming back empty-handed, and the fleshies amongst them had worried looks on their faces. They cast constant glances at the stairs that led down the cliff.

  "Something is up with that staircase…" Derin mumbled to the others.

  Tatjie, unlike her usual self, looked at him with a serious frown. "They seem to be afraid of it."

  "They are afraid to be put to work," Sig said, keeping his eyes on one of the enormous gates in the bone wall.

  "What does that mean?" Tirella asked.

  "To live in Tendraal, you need to pay mana-orbs."

  "Just like in Skulltown!" Tatjie said, a bit too loud for Derin's tastes.

  "Yes. The difference here being that if you can't pay, the second day you are put to work in the mines for a day and a night."

  Tatjie shrugged. "That doesn't sound too bad."

  Sig didn't reply immediately, looking at Tirella while motioning with his head at one of the containers.

  "Grab a mana-orb, but make sure nobody sees how many we have."

  Derin saw Tirella blink in surprise before doing as Sig said. She held the orb close to her chest, covering it with both hands.

 

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