The globe of coruscating deep blue fire collapsed back into the gray man, leaving him unscathed within the pool of molten rock still giving off waves of intense heat. The monster was puzzled but moved to attack again.
Its maw opened—and Fenix struck first.
A bolt of blue fire, one single bolt larger than his head, shattered the miasmic haze, blew back the fumes, and spread a shockwave out from Fenix that threw stones and dust as far as the eye could see.
Through the creature’s open maw and down inside it, the blue glow lit up the monster from within. It survived the lava fields, swam in magma flows for its bath, sucked up molten metals for nutrients, but this was something it had never felt before.
Indigestion didn’t even come close, the capacity this creature had to deal with heat and fire was part of its intrinsic being. Fire that hot, that burning, was too much.
An intestinal tract designed to digest the very thing the creature consumed now consumed it, furrowing it out from the inside, burning away the creature’s organs and exploding out from every space it could find.
The creature screamed only briefly before flame erupted from its mouth, from the maw on its chest, and from every gap and seam, every segment of the carapace, throwing wild shadows over the landscape and then snuffing them out.
It didn’t explode, no pieces went flying off to land smoking among the terrain. It just died, burned from the inside out, ashes falling with the inrushing wind to leave the hardened and now thoroughly cooked outer shell, a monument to Fenix’s victory.
**
The creature’s Vitae had been impressive, probably something to do with the amount of other living things it consumed. Since there was very little that would choose to live in the volcanic land mass, it probably ate anything it could find to absorb enough Vitae to survive.
Forays out of the lava fields would serve it well; he was sure it could survive for short periods away from the warmth, with its internal heat, and it had been powerful enough to defeat many of the other creatures he had encountered so far.
Vitae for it, while not plentiful, had been more than enough. Which meant it carried on consuming to stockpile, or perhaps even to do some breeding of its own.
A few creatures like that would have been an exciting addition to the Prison, and perhaps even for Quelina herself.
Sunlight from the Prison sun washed over his grey skin, the scales seemed to absorb the heat or push it away as he wished them to.
Strange how even with his memory returning in pieces he had only some idea of how he worked.
His skin could keep him insulated or cool him off, despite the tough outer shell like scales so small they could have been skin cells until they pulled together in a natural armor state.
Fenix observed this behaviour by holding his bared forearm up the light as he walked.
The path he traveled had been worn between the two low rocky hills by various feet or other forms of locomotion. Likely it had taken millennia, but then the Prison had been around long enough and had enough prisoners for that.
Why he had chosen this path from the volcanic plain to the sunrise side had been entirely selfish, he wanted to see if any other enterprising prisoners had seen this path for the possibilities it presented.
He doubted that the prisoners of the north would be here, but Outsiders would be able to survive without any trouble. Fenix wanted to test some of what he now knew.
So he played the fool or something like a wandering prisoner who was able to be distracted. Anything to appear weak and ripe for the taking.
It must have worked because for the past few miles he had felt eyes on him, predatory eyes.
Around another bend in the small trail, he found the first sign that this was going to be a good day for him. Off to one side sat a being with a yellow tinge to otherwise blue skin that covered him from head to toe in a humanoid body.
One of its legs was obviously broken with a large bruise on one side which told of the blow that had broken it, the sharp end of the calf bone sticking up through the skin. Its blood was a milky red, already hardened in trails down the thing's leg.
It wore only a wraparound skin from some animal native to the Prison, the muscles of its body cut across it, giving it an impressive build. Impressive enough if it could have stood up at all.
Eyes flaring orange around a deep blue iris and an impenetrable black pupil looked up at him, fear written in them down to the bones. Whatever this thing was, it was terrified, or at least it looked and smelled terrified, but Fenix’s instincts told him otherwise.
He stopped then knelt down to pick up a rock, then he stood and began to saunter forward, his supernatural strength crushing the rock to dust as he ran it around in his fist.
“Please.” The prisoner gurgled, a language Fenix understood, and a voice box and lungs to make the sounds. “Do not hurt me!”
Fenix tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, then he flung rock dust out to his right and then again to the left. Empowered by his magic it slammed into the opposite rock sides and burned into them, molten flows seared a design into the stone.
The prisoner watched this display and shrank back. “No! No, please, it is not me. You must turn back and run, I am bait!”
On cue, the rumbling and cracking sound behind Fenix was designed to draw his attention, so he turned slightly and looked over his shoulder. The stone face of the rocky hill bent and twisted, tearing itself loose from the surrounding earth.
Five times his height and more than eight wide, the creature of stone rolled forward with a grinding that nearly deafened Fenix. With an effort of will, he blocked out the volume and turned back to the real threat, moving faster as he did.
The blue humanoid was up, no sign of a broken leg now, and already shifting further into high speed right at Fenix. Bait and switch, the blue thing was the bigger danger, not the rock creature, the ploy was simple to work out.
The more dangerous plays the victim, the savior, if such could ever exist in the prison were more likely to be willing to kill the victim, would go after it. Then the ambush is sprung, most sensible beings would fight the ambusher thinking that one way or another the victim was still helpless.
They would have been wrong.
The victim was much more powerful than appearances let on, and caught by surprise Fenix would have been at a severe disadvantage.
These prisoners were wrong to assume he was.
The blue-skinned being changed, it went from an upright humanoid to some creature with rear-hinged knees and four arms in the blink of an eye. So it was a shapeshifter, and whatever kind it was the thing had a rapid shape change speed.
Fenix drew the two knives he now had, with practiced ease they flew from their sheaths, into his hands and forward in a double-handed thrust designed to push back a blitz attack. The shapeshifter was surprised by the immediate reaction, it swept up one of its own arms and slammed into the bared blades with a hiss of pain.
Fenix had to keep moving, a fight was a commitment to survival.
He twisted both daggers to open deep wounds and pulled them out, sliding downwards with one foot back and the other forwards he pressed in and up under the shapeshifters arm. The creature retained its orange eyes around the blue even as it turned its skin into a harder leather-like substance.
With the wounds in its arm closing at accelerated healing speeds, it looked Fenix in the eye, within the fighting time they shared and flicked a glance behind him. It was an obvious glance, meant to remind him about the several tons of solid rock creature about to smash him to a pulp from behind.
The rock monster, however, came up short, literally.
The two smoking designs in the rock sat behind Fenix and opposite each other in the direct path of the monster. As soon as it rolled, stepped or dirt slimed its way between them they activated.
Sigils flared into life, a bright blue corona spread out and then beamed from one of the designs to the other.
With the rock mons
ter in-between.
The power of the magical fire instantly flash melted the outside skin of rock, causing several bangs as mineral deposits and metals exploded from the intense heat. The beam cored into the monster, deep inside until it met itself from both sides and then flared brighter.
The monster had so much momentum behind it that the bottom part was disintegrated more than halfway through before it could stop and rear backward. Molten stone crept up from the heat of the beam even as the rest of the monster managed to form up in a reverse ocean wave and crash backwards.
No scream, no sound at all except the loud crunches, bangs from exploding minerals and hissing of slag.
Fenix’s daggers slipped into the torso of the shapeshifter in the heartbeat it took it to realize what had happened, the shapeshifter’s gaze had hesitated too long, taking in the mauling of its’ companion.
The daggers flared white-hot, the etchings Fenix had put into the metal of the blades taking the flow of magic and expelling his spell of fire. Fenix was taking no chances, whatever else this shapeshifter could do he had to kill it quickly before the energy he used would be more than he gained from this reverse ambush.
Flesh melted and burnt, grey flakes of ash poured from the wounds as Fenix twisted and turned the daggers. The two arms of the shapeshifter above his head changed, bone spurs stretched out and long blades formed downwards like barbed scythes.
Fenix ducked forwards and pushed hard with the daggers inside the shapeshifter, creating a wider gap to move into as the scythes came down. The wicked points missed him, barely, but cut easily into the leather shirt he wore and he felt the scrape as they sliced through the skin he had just been admiring for its toughness.
A small trickle started, the wetness of his own blood.
The pain he ignored easily, the drive to win before he got more injured, that overpowered even his desire to manage his resources.
Two thoughts flickered out from him, the first flared up the sigils in the stone where the beam still glowed and flared. It consumed the magic and went from a beam to a wall of intense fire, effectively preventing the rock monster from coming any closer for the minute it would take for the magical sigils to burn themselves from the rock they were implanted in.
He then channeled a huge amount of fire into the daggers, their sigils too burst into open flames and the metal began to smolder. At the same time, flames with the consistency of plasma pulled the hot flakes of metal and flesh then incinerated them.
Beams of blue fire speared out at opposite angles from the back of the shapeshifter who let out a curdling scream that no normal mouth could have made. The creature spasmed and jerked backward, Fenix used the motion to turn and rip both arms to the sides.
The blades of fire scissored open and cut the shapeshifter in half, the tear burning purple and yellow as different fluids fed the flames. Knowing that his enemy was not yet dead, Fenix stepped forwards, prepared to continue the massacre.
The shapeshifter for its part dropped the burning flesh from the upper part, sloughing it off like clothing. The remaining whole part turned around on itself, bones moving and flesh reorienting into a being with multiple legs jointed for speed.
With survival instinct kicking in the shapeshifter did not hiss and spout at Fenix but immediately turned to flee.
With his daggers now almost molten slag he put them together between his hands, feeling no heat or pain as the flames poured from between his fingers. With an effort of will, he imbued the mass with more magic then drew his hands apart.
The molten metal swirled inside a burning core of flame, and with a swift motion, he threw the ball at the evading shapeshifter. With his mind focused Fenix directed the flaming mass from side to side, matching the course of the many-legged creature with the same speed it showed.
A final piercing scream went up with the conflagration of flames as the shapeshifter went under the falling fireball. Smoke rose briefly with the charred smell of garlic and onion, ashes blowing aside with the wind caused by the expanding heatwave.
Lying in the middle of the charred ground was a fist-sized stone of Vitae, a surprising amount considering the nature of the creature. Fenix had to think about that another time, his barrier of flame went out with a snap of collapsing air, and the stone monster roared through the gap at him.
Stone, high melting point depending on the contents, could take a serious beating from concussive force. A natural armor and when your body was made from it made you extremely durable.
It also helped that the rock monster was bigger than a house and so the mass it had lost so far was like cutting off a spare room.
Fenix went with his instinct and took the initiative, with a roar he summoned his magic, feeling the Vitae he had fuelling the power just as it did for everything, and summoned flame. Brute for the rock monster may be, but Fenix could create his own brute force, but unlike something that hit like a hammer he could use his like a surgical knife.
His body covered in flame, the red and orange fingers running all over him, his clothing and equipment protected by a measure of willpower. Then he pushed further, the power bending through him and lighting him up, the tattoo on the back of his neck tingled as if it was excited again, tight after not being used for so long.
Amplified, the flames went to yellow, purple and then blue with a haze of heat which spread in an aura around Fenix. Ground burned, the small number of native Prison plants on this plateau charred to instant ashes and the air became unbreathable except for the two who came together.
There was no slam, no sudden impact to rock the hills around them.
Instead there was a hiss like steam under high pressure, and a kind of groan as the rock monster went right over Fenix and then stopped.
Fenix had not disappeared under it, he had gone right into the creature, and with stone rubble flexing at strange angles it tried to fold over him. The intensity of the blue flame was so high that there were no natural and most magical materials that could stand up to it for a fraction of a second.
Fenix stepped into and then walked through the solid rock with less resistance than if he were swimming. Pressure built inside where the inferno was contained, and dense mass was converted into liquid and gas.
The biggest mistake the rock monster made then was to try and close up and crush Fenix despite the damage being done to its inside. It had no vital organs, no nervous system or circulation, the damage caused no pain but only a sensation of loss.
It could lose a lot of itself so long as it killed him.
The covered part which was visibly shaped into the ground beneath and formed roots that grew under the two of them. The rock monster formed a complete covering and came in underneath Fenix to crush him from all sides.
The blue fire melted and transmuted the monster, there was no crushing force because it all changed to liquid and gas where it touched. The more material that changed, the more pressure built, and with the immense heat from Fenix keeping it away from him, there was only one way it could go.
Out.
There was a thump, like an earthquake it was felt only through the ground and went out for a considerable distance from the epicenter. Which was the rock monster, a roll of earth left its sides and cracks opened all through the surface from which jetted the sudden emulsion of lethal metal gases.
The air turned hazy and wove around, the gases flurrying in eddies and shifts from the less but still definite pressure pushing from inside. Those beings who could have survived in the area would have smelt actinic flares of exotic metals and the burn of more common sulfur.
In the next few seconds there were more cracks, followed by the sudden detonations from inside which told of the immense forces still at play.
Blue flames licked out of some of them suddenly, where the stone sagged inwards, making it evident that the outside of the rock monster was diminishing. It was shrinking around the center point that was Fenix, rivulets and then streams of magma poured out from under it and then dr
ipped from the cracks.
It was over.
It melted around him into a slag heap, the remnants of the rock monster an outward rippling lava pool which would cool off in a few weeks into a new basalt and obsidian expanse. Inside the circle, Fenix slowly released the blue flames which limbed him from head to toe.
Surprisingly it had taken less energy than usual, it had been refined somehow by his memories of how to work magic. However, even more so, it was enhanced and further refined by his tattoo, whatever it really was.
Bending down he found the rock of Vitae, perhaps three-quarters of the size of the one from the shapeshifter which he also went over to retrieve.
Big pieces, which he analyzed after absorbing some from each and found that they more than made up for what he had spent on the ambush. Although he had misjudged the situation despite being on top of things.
Fenix had no idea how large a chunk of Vitae he would turn into if he died, but with these two added to his it would be significant. That did not belittle the power of his two opponents however, they had been mighty.
The Vitae stones he acquired the lower prisoners from that first ambush put them several multiple as less able than these two.
The Prison.
Any new arrival, no matter the being, beast or monster, was stripped of not only their memories but their power. It was something that happened at the most basic level, whether Fenix gathered and stored magical reserves or he had them naturally did not matter.
The Prison only provided life and whatever powers you had through the Vitae.
All prisoners had no memory and thus none of their skills, whether decades, centuries or millennia of study, they had none of it. Only instinct, instinct, and the power they could scrape together to live long enough to decide whether to risk survival and regain memories.
You could put a god-like being into the Prison, and it would be reduced to nothing but an equal footing with the lowliest of mortals. It would have potential, just like Fenix did, but only conflict could bring out that potential.
Survival, the Prison brought everything down the basics, a fitting punishment for the convicts.
Convict Fenix Page 22
