Brace For the Wolves

by Nathan Thompson

  “Not anymore you’re not,” I said firmly. “You’re with me until further notice or you find someone else to take you in.” I turned back to Karim. “I’m assuming you saw the entrance to this place when they captured you. How defensible is this place? Can we defend here while we wait for the shelter to finish setting up?”

  “No,” Karim shook his head. “They relied on the fact that they controlled this entire territory for protection. The entry point is wide open and unguarded. Only the possible places to portal into the world itself were fortified. Those and the dungeon’s interior.”

  “And we won’t stay here,” the woman at the back spoke up again. “There has been too much screaming, too much blood…” She shook again. “I want to leave. We all want to leave.”

  Several of the other women near her nodded their agreement. The children clutching at their skirts whimpered a little.

  “Alright, let me think,” I said. A surge of stress flooded me for a moment, saying that I wasn’t a leader and had no idea how to get a group of women, children and other refugees to safety. Then I remembered that before today, I had never brained, eviscerated, decapitated, or otherwise murdered a whole group of people either.

  If I could figure all that out in a span of an hour or less, I could probably figure out how to keep a group of people safe. Especially with help.

  Help…

  I have a friendly talking planet under me.

  “One moment,” I said to everyone, then looked up. It wasn’t necessary, but it was a habit I developed whenever I had to address Avalon directly.

  “Avalon,” I asked. “Confirm that shelter cannot be accessed until twelve or more hours have passed.”

  “Negative,” the planetary giant replied. “Shelter’s functions are still offline, but the buildings themselves can still be inhabited. Basic warding and concealment spells are currently active. Further defenses will not be available until protocol In Case Of Trouble has completed all emergency rituals.”

  “That’s good news,” I said, pleased that I at least had a place to put these people. “But why does it take so long to activate an emergency function?”

  “Protocol In Case Of Trouble was previously deemed unnecessary by Stewardess Stell Starsown, given the low number of inhabitants and their high personal power. The power used for the protocol was diverted to other rituals and protocols deemed more necessary at the time.”

  I looked back at the three men that had helped me fight.

  “I don’t know what other responsibilities you three have, but I have over fifty people to safeguard, and I can’t be everywhere at once. I have a safe place they can stay, but I need to make sure everyone gets there safely. Can you help me?”

  Right then I noticed that everyone was looking down in shock.

  “There’s mist in here now,” someone just realized. It had spilled into the room only recently. I had been too busy to realize that the others wouldn’t know about it.

  “Did it just talk?” someone else asked. “Did the mist just talk?”

  “Avalon,” Karim said. “The mist just called itself Avalon.” He stared hard at me. “You can speak to the world itself.”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “Part of the new job. Can you help me or not?”

  Eadric snorted from behind Karim.

  “Not a real question.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I mean we have nowhere else to go, you’ve revealed yourself to be one of the extraplanar saviors that come to our worlds in our darkest hours, and you just demonstrated that you can make the ground under us listen to you. Of course we’re going to help. What are you planning?”

  I sighed inwardly in relief. Was this what it looked like when most of the people on a planet were reasonable? I already didn’t miss Earth.

  “You’ve heard me mention about a safe place and the need to get people there. You just heard Avalon describe the details of the location so you know as much about it as I do right now. We have to get all of the people currently here to that spot.” I waved a hand toward the natives and the four girls. “To get there safely, we need to either kill the monsters and cultists on the way or avoid them. I need to figure out the best way to do that, and I need a good way to guard a large number of noncombatants while doing so.” I looked out at the crowd. “I’m assuming that the four of us are the only ones that are either Risen or know how to fight. But just in case: has anyone else here ever held a weapon or Risen before?”

  Rising was much like gaining a level in one of my games back home. The person became stronger, faster, better at what they were good at before, and occasionally gained new powers. Unlike my games though, a person could Rise without killing monsters or other violence. Apparently on every world but Earth, people gained power by overcoming difficult situations, called Challenges. Again, they didn’t have to be about killing monsters or rescuing princesses. They could also come about by solving administrative issues, helping people recover from a natural disaster, the list went on and on. They just had to be, well, challenging. And if they overcame enough Challenges, something in them would stretch, push, and grow, and they would Rise.

  The one good thing about being tortured to death over and over was that it counted as a Challenge that I somehow overcame. I don’t know why, because all I remember doing was a lot of screaming and bleeding. But I had felt the power pour into me, and when they finally relaxed their guard around me, I used that power to break out and escape.

  The other prisoners answered my questions by shaking their head. Except for the three beside me, none of them were Risen and none of them could fight.

  “Alright, that’s okay. We just have to make sure to keep you out of combat. Can you three help me protect them?”

  The dwarf-like man snorted again.

  “If the ones outside fight as badly as the ones in here did, that won’t be a problem.”

  “Honestly I have no idea what their capabilities are,” I replied. “But I do know that Avalon is trying to restrict them. It should be able to do that even better if we can destroy more of the cultists’ magic and monsters.”

  “Confirmed,” Avalon interjected, causing everyone to jump and look at the floor again.

  “That’s gonna get weird quick,” the dwarf-like man grumbled.

  “Yeah, probably. I’ll try and get Avalon to whisper to me more. But speaking of weird, I need to be blunt. You all strongly resemble certain races depicted in our stories, but I have no idea what to address your respective people as—”

  “Yes,” the blonde man interrupted.

  “Yes what?” I asked.

  “Yes, you may call me an elf,” Weylin continued with a sigh. “You can call him a dwarf.” He pointed to Eadric. “And you may call him a wizard.” The long-haired man finally pointed to Karim. “But do not get our personal names wrong. No matter how much we supposedly look like fictitious people from your world’s stories. I refuse to be called another, made-up elf’s name and so will everyone else you meet. Don’t do that. It’s offensive. On every world.”

  “Noted,” I said with a nod. “That was all I needed to know about that issue. Now let’s figure out a plan to keep these people safe. What can you three do?”

  “Not as much as we could do with our equipment,” Karim admitted. “You found Eadric’s hammer.” He nodded to the bronze-colored warhammer I had looted from one of the torturers and given to the dwarf. “That will help because it’s his primary weapon. But our other tools are still missing. They kept most of their supplies in the portal room. Did you see anything there?”

  “Sure,” I nodded, then pulled out my weapon handle.

  Back on Earth, while playing a video game my late father had helped design, I had received a strange item that looked like the grip to a sword hilt. It was rusted and worn and lacked a blade, pommel and guard, but one night I had found that the item had followed me outside the game and I was somehow able to use it to discover and enter Avalon. Chris had given it back
to me before my escape and showed me how it could record events like a video camera, and already had evidence of my dad being framed. While using it, I found that it could bind and super-impose itself over another weapon’s grip and create an extradimensional space that I could use to double what I could carry. Currently it had bonded with my silvery short sword and carried about four hundred pounds of gear I had looted from the portal room.

  I got a few apprehensive looks when I suddenly drew my handle and the weapon it was attached to, but a moment later everyone was too busy staring in shock at the massive pile of equipment on the ground.

  “This is all I could carry from the portal room, but I think I got everything that could be useful to us. Go ahead and look for anything you can use.”

  Karim, Weylin, and Eadric carefully picked through the pile of items for their old gear. They grabbed much of what I predicted. Karim grabbed the satchel of books and Weylin grabbed the bow and quiver. They continued rifling through the pile of gear before finally grimacing when they couldn’t find whatever it was they were looking for. Eadric surprised me by digging through the items until he found a small wooden box I hadn’t noticed taking. The box contained some kind of chisel, a small carving knife, and some carefully packaged stone and wooden figurines.

  “Well, we all have magic again, at least,” he grunted as he pulled out the figurines and checked them one by one. “Shame they took our armor and other gear.”

  “Why? Is this anybody’s?” I asked, pointing at the leather cuirass I had looted. “And there was a chain hauberk on the guy outside that I didn’t have time to grab.”

  The dwarf just snorted and shook his head. Karim actually answered me.

  “They took the more durable and spectacular-looking of our items through their portal. Which means my staff and Eadric’s armor are probably gone for good. As well as Weylin’s short blade.”

  “Not a problem,” Eadric added. “All of those items can be replaced.” He carefully re-wrapped the figurines, then dug a spare satchel out of my pile to wear and put them in. “We can use these to get everyone going.”

  “Really?” I asked, curious. “How?”

  “How familiar are you with magic?” Weylin asked me.

  “As far as I know, it’s tied to Ideals you have an understanding of. Air gives air-like magic, and so on. I haven’t seen anything about magic tools yet though.”

  “The Ideals are probably the most inherent forms of magic,” Karim replied calmly. “But those born without strong connections to them still have alternatives. Our own order focuses primarily on three: the magic of the Sculpted Image.” He pointed to Eadric, who nodded as he arranged his carving tools. “The Recited Song.” The dark man then pointed to Weylin, who nodded as well. “And the Spell in Script.” He gestured at himself and his satchel of books and scrolls. “Each style has their own limitations and requirements, and none of them have the raw power of an equivalent spell from any one of the Ideals. But they can be mastered far more quickly, by more people, and grant far more flexibility than an equally skilled practitioner of one of the Ideals usually has.”

  “Really?” I asked. “They can be practiced by anyone?”

  “Yes…” Karim nodded. “Provided you know how to either sculpt, write, or sing.”

  “What if you know how to do all three?” I asked excitedly. If this worked the way I thought it did, then it just opened up a whole bunch of options for me.

  “Then you can do any of them,” Karim said slowly, as if that was obvious.

  “You mean I could learn all three at once?”

  Karim blinked when he heard me ask that.

  “Why would you even bother to—”

  “I could learn sculpting magic, oral magic and scripted magic all on top of my three Ideals?”

  “Well, theoretically you could but the amount of work it would take…” The dark-skinned mage blinked for a moment. “Did you say three Ideals?”

  “Yeah, you saw me throw lightning bolts around, and I walked in here earlier with all kinds of passive magic spells on me. You saw that too, right?”

  My ‘Battleform,’ whatever that was, had deactivated by now. I had no idea how to activate it again.

  “Not really,” the long-haired elf said. “You were a fair distance from us before. And up close you’re uh, kind of covered in blood.”

  “Right, fair enough,” I said with a nod. “I’ll go ahead and let you know what I can do, since I saw you guys in action earlier and just heard about your magic.” I took a breath to remember everything. “Initiate-level proficiency with most melee weapons…”

  “What kind?” Eadric asked. “Blades, spears, blunt weapons?”

  “Yeah, all those,” I said with a nod. “Plus some unarmed proficiencies. But I’m honestly not much beyond my Risen level in any of those skills.”

  For some reason that sentence made the dwarf blink. I continued talking. “All the weapons I had are currently in that pile of stuff except for this silvery short sword I’m carrying.” I gestured with the leaf-shaped blade I was holding. “It seems to be my best weapon for now, but I don’t know much about it except that it’s very durable and not made out of steel or iron.”

  “That’s arsenic bronze,” Eadric said quietly. “Hard to make, but arguably on par with iron for making weapons. Looks to be enchanted for durability.”

  “You can tell that?” I asked, surprised myself.

  “Shaping magic is good for creating or examining tools,” the dwarf said with another nod. “And that’s a rather wide list of combat skills you’ve developed. What about your magic?”

  “As I said, I only have access to three Ideals. Those are Lightning, Earth, and Air. They’re all just a bit above my Risen level.”

  Eyes blinked. Nostrils flared. Heads cocked.

  “What?” I asked, oblivious. “What did I say wrong? Or do I have something on my face? Other than the blood, I mean?”

  I went ahead and wiped a sleeve across my face. Karim just sighed and shook his head.

  “Never mind,” he finally said. “We don’t have time to discuss this right now. We’re just going to accept that you’re a Challenger and that you have a lot of complicated and impossible long-term goals that somehow both work and make sense to you. We need to focus on getting everyone out of here.” He looked at his two companions. “I’ll write some veiling and protection scripts, Weylin can recite some bolstering songs to help the refugees keep up with us, and Eadric should still have some tokens he can use to remove signs and sounds of our passage.”

  “That sounds perfect,” I said as I saw Eadric nod. “All I can do is enhance myself, impede a group of enemies, or blow them apart one or two at a time. Wait, one more thing.”

  I looked up again. “Avalon, can you provide the location and movement of all nearby hostiles?”

  “Confirmed. Available power for detecting hostile creatures within a three-mile range of the Lord of Avalon.”

  “Fantastic,” I said. “Do that while you continue using your leftover power to hinder our enemies. And I’ll explain my new title when everyone’s safe. Let’s loot everything else here, get any prisoners left in other rooms, and get everyone out of here.”

  Everyone worked quickly, despite all the terror and trauma they had all endured. For this group at least, the physical injuries had been minor. I didn’t want to think about what Rhodes’ people had been planning to do to them and right now the most important thing was making sure the cultists never got the chance to hurt them again.

  Except for Gabby, none of the other girls were willing to even talk or look at me right now. That stung badly, and I hated myself until I realized that maybe they weren’t so much blaming me for not saving them as they were blaming themselves for being a part of my family’s disgrace.

  I’d have to set that nonsense right quickly, but first everyone needed to get out of here. We picked up about twenty more prisoners in worse shape in individual cells, but everyone who was too weak to walk
was light enough to carry. The three warriors with me helped by either singing, writing strange scripts into the air or breaking wooden or clay figurines. Somehow, those acts helped strengthen and heal most of the prisoners to where they could move quickly and help carry looted supplies. I had filled my pockets and the extradimensional space inside my sword handle to max capacity.

  My mind-screen just kept saying “Assessing…” when I tried to look at my status, but I had a much better feel for my capabilities without it right now. So I wasn’t surprised when I could load over five hundred pounds into my sword handle and carry another two hundred pounds on my back without any trouble at all.