Resting against her legs, the polished surface of the kite shield gleamed, reflecting light out ahead of her that didn’t tremble at all. She was perfectly still, standing as if in prayer, head tilted up, eyes closed and mouth slightly open to breathe in the clear air.
“Ever is it so, that the darkness will seek out the light. As if those beings who have lost their way seek absolution or resolution to their blighted existence.” She spoke, and the voice lilted through soft tones.
Although her pose hadn’t changed, he knew that she was talking to him.
Fenix stepped out to her right, slowly and as quietly as he had moved through the rest of the room. She smelled of peony blossoms, a strange scent although quite feminine. Against the sweat, metal and oil smells from the rest of the church come fortress it stood out.
She opened eyes of a startling light blue and turned her head to look at him. Her gaze was penetrating; to most beings, it would seem soul searching, driven into them and analyzing their every dark thought and desire.
Fenix smiled, the grin spreading wide across his face and gazed back with his own sapphire eyes. Let her see, he thought, perhaps she will be lost in the maze of all his deeds.
“Which do you seek?” she asked him, speaking slowly and carefully, all the while staring at him and still unmoving.
“I am not here for either your graciousness or my own absolution. But thanks for the offer; I do not think that you are here to provide redemption.” He spoke clearly, succinctly, his proper tones and noble enunciation unconsciously mirroring her way of speaking.
So she had an effect after all.
Her smile was a mask of certainty; it drew across her face and highlighted how much she knew, so much more than he ever would, about how the cosmos worked.
“Only in the darkest of places would you find me. Only in the worst, the ones in most dire need of salvation, the deepest pits, would I be working at my best.”
“You think you are here, in this Prison, because you are meant to be?” He could scarcely believe that anyone’s faith would allow that much delusion.
She nodded, completely serious. “Yes, this Prison is full of the souls of the lost. Where else should I be but here, where my faith can restore these lost souls to their rightful way or bring them their much-needed end.”
“So only two options? Reform or die?” He could hear the other henchmen moving into the room, having come closer to her while she stood still.
Unthreatening, they were surrounding the outside in preparation.
“And you provide this great opportunity, through force?”
“Most of those who are deep within the grip of evil cannot see the way to redemption without considerable motivation. I bring that motivation; I am the shining light of hope through faith in all that is good. I bring hope, I also bring death to those who will not change, that in the afterlife they are judged, and that within this existence they are a threat no more. Good must triumph over evil, especially here in this Prison where my path has brought me to spread the way.”
She turned then, her left hand dropped to hold the shield from where it had clasped her right, raised before her in a gesture of chastity.
The steel gauntlets she wore went up to her elbows; from there she wore a light and silvery chain mail under the breastplate. Even without the armor, she would be androgynous, neither a male body nor a female one, Fenix could only assume Quelina was right about her gender, little else hinted at it.
Her features could have been boyish or girlish, the training built a frame for fighting, and her face was freckled sparsely and otherwise rounded and angled.
It would be difficult for anyone to assume she was soft, and hence she probably worked at having a male similarity to fit in better with such societies with gender inequality. It was also notable that her breastplate was fashioned after a man’s, likely flat chested too then, perhaps she indeed was a virgin as well.
And what kept her this way, just her fanaticism?
“Lady, you are in the wrong place to be judging people. That part already happened and by much more experienced and enlightened beings than yourself.” He observed her, looking for the small facial tics that would betray her feelings.
That angered her, the mention of the judges.
“Those cretins and supposedly higher powers are just part of the hierarchy that must be thrown down! They have risen to such power through deception and manipulation; they hold sway through cunning performance and public play, lip service only to the greater good!”
“The cosmos desires a champion, a champion born of genuine hardship, tempered by complete fall and rise through modesty and chaste faith in the path set before her. The champion of good will to scour this place of its most low, and bring out those who can become so much more. For only the darkest who truly repent can be the staunchest champions for good. They who have seen the darkest places and know what effect they can have will strive to prevent it.”
Her voice had risen, she was preaching, like a sermon, that her flock, now in place around them both, could hear.
Fenix interrupted her rolling preaching.
“And what of you, are you one who fell and rose up, have you been into the depths of depravity and evil and renounced their claim on your soul?”
She either ignored or missed the sarcasm.
“I am pure and have always been. My light shines brightly for all that it is, as always, untainted. And because of that, I can find and forgive those who would repent! I am equipped by the grace of goodness itself to be champion, to be the one to lead the charge from the darkest places back into the light!”
The sheer vehemence in her words and the zealous spirit shining from her eyes were intimidating.
He could see why beings would be overwhelmed by her absolute personality, the utter lack of any possibility that she could be wrong. An unquestioning and closed mind, capable only of proceeding along the course it had latched onto.
He shook his head slowly from side to side.
“Lady, you are a deranged and pitiful excuse for a champion. At best, you are a self-appointed figurehead with delusions of grandeur. When they shut you down and sent you here didn’t you see the failure to comprehend within yourself?”
Her right hand gripped the handle of her sword, the left clenched against the top of the shield, grinding its point into the floor slightly.
“As ever the agents of evil seek to bend reality to their words, sophistry, and sweet tongues. I will not be swayed, you will see the light and repent, or you will die.”
“Well, you are correct about one thing.” Fenix settled into a fighter’s stance as the other armored figures stepped out from behind the surrounding pillars.
“You will not be swayed. But I will not be the one to die here.”
She yelled out a command, and the room filled quickly with humanoids in full plate armor, the clang of steel boots on stone and the sound of metal striking metal created a cacophony of noise. They came from all directions, the ones closest to him entering from just behind his back, while others angled their approach to either go and protect her or move closer to her adversary.
He waited.
The beautiful thing about getting your enemies to group together and attack you was usually in the advantage that it meant you could kill a whole lot of them at once and not have to go hunt them down individually.
In this case, it was precisely what Fenix had been hoping for, to cut the head off the snake and deal with her most loyal supporters as well. Fenix concentrated on the power he had been building during the conversation, not only her buying time but he had been as well.
Blue flame enveloped his fingertips, and he crouched down, the heat and power of the magic allowed him to sink his fingers into the solid stone. He released the power, and the newly formed holds became handholds that he could grip.
Then he released the bulk of the collected energy, although with far less effect than he had desired.
An expanding spher
e of energy shot out from Fenix, all of it a sapphire blue with white wisps as the fire swirled within itself. The intense flame scoured the floor, melting the glaze from the surface, warping the small tiles inlaid onto the floor and spread out in every direction with him at the center.
With enough power to warp and melt stone, the energy wave should have disintegrated the onrushing horde of metal armored beings; instead, it barely singed their cloaks.
Fire so hot it evaporated the tiling cement used on the floor became a fuzzy haze sweeping around each figure, including Joanne when the wave passed around her. With great gaps in the outer edge, the magic was drawn in and diminished with each of the humanoids that perforated it.
Far shorter than it should have gone, the entire expanding wave collapsed in on itself and left molten droplets to seep into the floor.
He was stunned for an instant but recovered quickly.
One did not survive if every attempt that failed locked you into indecision. Fenix’s fire had worked on the guards outside, there was something different in here, and the most likely source was Joanne.
Glancing over, he could see she was smiling that arrogant, superior smile saying she had won. Sharp steel got closer to him, and Fenix decided that he should learn some more, but while he did, it was time to show the haughty woman his other deadly skills.
He slapped the sword aside from the first stab, grabbed the elbow of the being hidden behind the armor, and pulled him into a punch edged in the blue flaming blade.
As he had expected the created weapon fizzled into an invisible barrier about an inch before penetrating the breastplate. This wasn’t the enchantments in the armor, it was something else, and he needed to use his skills in acting now.
Pushing aside the humanoid he had attempted to kill with a snarl, Fenix painted frustration and anger onto his face. He bent his body into a pose of jerky movements, dodging the other attempts at his life and deflecting blows where needed.
His bow came off his back with an arrow nocked just as quickly, the woman still stood there and smiled, but he needed to get her talking. He fired at one of her guards, the regular arrowhead bounced off the plate armor of the being.
Her smile grew wider when he drew one of his enchanted arrows, the sigils sprang to sapphire light, and he let fly at the same guard. The magic diffused in wisps just before suddenly reduced to mundane arrowhead struck the armor and ricochet again. Fenix snarled, with movements that kept the rest at bay or most of them away from him he knocked another arrow and fired it at her.
The leader of the cult lifted her shield in a well-practiced motion to intercept the projectile, her smile widening at his disconcerted behavior.
“Now do you see?”
He pushed puzzlement into his features, along with the very real effort of avoiding serious injury. Joanne took the bait and laughed, it was a delightful laugh, free and clear.
“All those of evil find it to be so. Powerless against my gift, absolutely stranded far from their lifeblood of powers and trickery.”
Her sky-blue eyes sparkled as she drew her sword.
“An absolute defense against all things magic, my power gifted to those most loyal to me, and preserving their lives. The only thing left to those who serve evil is their physical prowess, their armies of bodies and steel used to subjugate the masses. Individually they all fall before me, weakened and confused.”
His memory sparked knowledge that he had of different forms of spells and talents. He had heard of this form of magic before, much as she might dress it up. A powerful weave of protection born of the conviction of the user, there were spells using willpower to provide a defense or an impervious result of some kind.
The stronger the will, the more influential the effect, and in this case her unshakable fanaticism was an impressive catalyst.
She was still lecturing.
“I have led cavalry charges into hosts of demonic armies, their miasma of fear, auras of fire, and the very atmosphere turned into clotting ashes and cinders around them. But to naught against our faith, my deliverance of justice to their ranks cleared all of their evil projections and rank attacks of foul magic. All those who rode with me protected by me, those loyal able to face even the most powerful of witches and warlocks with impunity to their spells.”
An amazingly useful gift for a witch hunter and zealot out to wipe out everything not within her realm of acceptability.
No wonder she had been so successful, and no wonder she had the arrogance to stand up to him now. Likely, there had been those with cunning who could get around it, and just as likely, she had forgotten most of those times along with most of her memory.
He hoped.
He had a plan, the description she gave was accurate and correct in that it was limited to the magic of her enemies.
But not the physical, her absolute defense did not stop an arrow; she needed regular or enchanted armor for that. So he had a chance, a good one, given he could do it in time and before she noticed. Although he expected her zealous arrogance would keep her here, even if she realized he might be a threat to her insurmountable faith.
Fenix refocused his mind, drawing on energy in two distinctly separate ways, magic flowing through his body in a rush.
He split his mind into compartments, from his long-ago training and some recovered memories he had practiced this while in the Prison. He didn’t think that he was back to where he had been in proficiency, but it should be good enough for here and now.
One compartment began to shape the spell glyphs he needed while the second would be ready to implement them. The third he drew on power for his survival while the fourth and largest handled the necessary fight that was taking place.
This way he could put his primary focus on combatting the soldiers of Joanne and let his plan form while he worked. The scene around him that had slowed down for a moment returned in startling clarity.
Time returned to normal pace in a lurch and rush of sound and noise.
He pivoted on one foot around the next stab, a spear that slipped past with a hairsbreadth to spare from cutting him. More than enough space. He got his other leg in between the legs of his opponent, stalling the rush.
Then he grabbed the man by his full-face helmet, one hand above at the forehead, the other down by the chin and gave a mighty twist. The humanoid within the armor must have worked on the same lines as most because with its head snapped around and neck broken it fell lifelessly to the floor in a clatter.
He threw a feral smile toward Joanne who continued to watch impassively, likely waiting for her opportunity to strike back. Her martial skill was probably honed over the years and would be formidable for most.
He had been alive for longer though and trained since birth, if anything her experienced eye could see that, and she was waiting to understand him better before getting involved.
Either way, he was happy to buy time.
The next armored figure came at him with a sword raised up high overhead, ready to bring the long blade down in a chop that would cause a lot of damage. He didn’t dodge or slip aside instead he focused and a blue flame shot from his wrist to his elbow, propelling his already impressive strength further into a palm strike to the breastplate of the miserable being.
The force of the blow dented in the metal, broke ribs and breastbone with audible cracks, and caved in its chest.
The humanoid stumbled back, gasping in pain and unable to breathe, the bent metal would keep it from easily drawing in air, aside from the internal bleeding he must have caused. A slower and more painful way to die but he wasn’t into that level of finesse when outnumbered fifty to one.
And it proved that his magic still worked on himself, her absolute defense was just that, a defense of her and her allies, not prevention of magic in an area.
The next of her cohorts fell to a straight kick that broke its leg at the knee and then a powered fist denting the helmet and the head beneath it, the force driving the head of the being down to cr
ack into the floor.
Fenix engaged the rest of his attackers in a very similar fashion, a swirl of limbs and agility that passed him like a shadow among their impotent blades and spears. Not one of them came closer than a minor scratch even when fighting in close quarters as they were.
Their training was excellent; they worked well in groups and didn’t get in each other’s way. Even their relative skill with weapons would be impressive for a standing army, even a mercenary group.
He expected that they didn’t see many challenges to regain memories within the Prison, the smoothness with which they applied hard-won skill was lacking. Always working in a group meant they overpowered anything too quickly to really strain them and force out the real memories at the root of their capabilities.
So how had Joanne done it? Or did an internal battle with oneself count as enough of a challenge? The woman must be at odds with herself.
While he fought Fenix was enacting his primary plan, the fingers of a free hand would curl up, the lines of light form between the knuckles and create the circle above his palm. Blue fire swirled within the lines and the ring, and each glyph he formed burned with an intense sapphire light.
He stayed in one part of the cathedral while fending off the minions of Joanne, and at the same time sent the glyphs down in a quickly formed pattern burned into the floor.
The potency of the blue flame created a scorched mark more than an inch into the floor, sets of glyphs forming the spell work he needed. Rough, and crude, but ultimately quite effective.
He poured the fire invisibly from his body into these marks on the floor, more and more of the marks absorbing the heat and flame seeping into the surrounding stone. It took a lot of energy, but after this, he should have the Vitae of everyone who had once served Joanne, so it was a calculated expenditure.
The groups of sigils didn’t glow; he kept that part damped down, invisible spells being of great use and something they taught him at the magical academy. Each one’s heat accumulated while Fenix moved among the armored host. He broke limbs with jabs and twists, threw beings to the floor, and shoved others around. It was all survival.
Convict Fenix Page 29
