by Jez Cajiao
I’d seen it years before on ‘Universal Soldier,’ and then again on some mental Japanese tv show, and much to my relief and utter amazement, it worked.
As I got closer, I summoned a Firebolt, building it up continually until it was blazing in my hand. Then, just as the Mage finally sensed something was wrong and looked up, I hurled it at him.
It slammed into the ground where the bastard had stood only a second before, exploding and sending him and his guard flying. The remainder of the two squads broke cover and started sprinting to the ship. They grabbed whatever handholds they could find and started climbing, while I started sprinting and releasing far more of the rope than was safe. I reached the end of it all too soon and pushed off hard, just barely making it to the deck of the ship.
I landed heavily, clattering across the deck as I bounced and rolled. Trying to absorb the shock of my impact, I almost knocked myself out as I heard my naginata clang and bounce away into an open hatch. The deck began to shake as the heavy soldier neared. I rolled to my back and launched myself to my feet, arcing my back like a ninja warrior, flipping like an Olympic gymnast, and landing like a retarded seal, with one foot in the open hatch.
I screamed and fell, just in time to avoid being hit in the face by the remaining elite soldier’s mace. As I clanged, banged, and swore my way down the steep ladder, I had a split second in which my thoughts were clear, and I wondered if the heroes of the stories I always loved reading had ever had this shit happen to them, or if this was a mixture of reality and the fact that several gods clearly hated me.
I slammed into the floor face first and laid there for a second, stunned. I coughed, feeling my nose pulse in agony, and I realized I’d broken the damn thing again. I’d lost track of how many times this year I’d had it broken. At this rate, it’s never going to heal right… a stray thought informed me.
I grunted and braced my hands in the push up position as I started to get up, only to fall back down, screaming with pain, as the elite’s mace slammed into my outstretched right hand before clattering off into the well-lit hallway.
The bastard had thrown it from above me, and it felt like I had a glove full of broken glass, rather than a hand. I got back up and backed away, glaring at him as he clambered down the remaining rungs of the ladder.
Bob, need you now, buddy. Get the captain, and anyone who doesn’t surrender, kill them!
I felt a faint acknowledgement from him as he started moving, then heard a scream and the sound of breaking glass from somewhere overhead. I used the last of my mana to heal my hand as best I could, hoping Oracle didn’t need the mana for someone else, and backed down the corridor. The heavily armored figure was clearly having problems in the narrow hallway, considering he couldn’t face me fully without scraping his armor against the walls and slowing down. He hunched down behind his shield, shouting something.
Did he just say shieldbash? I wondered a split second before he flashed across the intervening distance and smashed his shield into my chest, sending me flying backwards into a closed door.
Or into a formerly closed door, as my body battered it open, deforming my armor and cracking ribs from the force of the blow.
I bounced across the floor of a room that I recognized as the ship’s hold, or one of them at least. Several startled people hastily flattened themselves against the walls and tried to stay as far back from me as possible. I forced myself to my feet and focused on the elite as he hunched over to get through the small doorway.
He straightened and drew his sword, clanging it against his shield as he started to circle me. I drew a sword in my right hand and a dagger in my left before snarling at him, using the pain I felt to clear my head.
“I don’t have time for this shit!” I spat out, darting forward, slashing and stabbing, only to have every strike deflected effortlessly. We circled each other, and he didn’t even bother to counterattack, content to let me wear myself out against his shield.
“Never fought a shieldbearer, have you, boy?” the elite mocked me, his voice deep and gravelly. I wanted the fight over with, but the bastard was much more skilled than I was. Every attack, every feint, he could clearly read and was steadily wearing down my stamina bar.
After another minute of this, I could barely move, staggering backwards even as I heard cries of pain and continuing battle from above. This asshat was keeping me from my people, and they could be dying, dammit!
I had a recollection of fighting in the arena, and I grinned as I checked my mana bar. It sat at twenty-two points; two whole points higher than I needed!
I threw my sword at his head, making him duck behind his shield reflexively, and as soon as he couldn’t see, I cast ‘Summon Water’ between his legs. The small magical fountain erupted, making him cry out in surprise as it soaked him, pouring into his armor and flowing across the floor under him. He backed away, then looked at me in annoyance.
“Really, boy? Is washing my balls the best you can do?” He said, stomping forward again, his boots splashing in the last of the water.
I grinned back at him, backing away and holding up my right hand. The crackling lightning filled my palm just as he started to move out of the puddle.
I released it, sending it flashing across the intervening few feet, then streaking back and forth inside his wet armor. The tiny bolt shocked him repeatedly as he screamed and thrashed.
He collapsed to his knees, twitching and shuddering. His sword fell from senseless fingers, and only the fact that his shield was strapped to his arm kept it in place.
“No, asshole, I just don’t have time to jerk around with you right now…” I whispered. He blinked, the shock wearing off just in time to feel me lift his chin in my right hand. He stared up at me, eyes unfocused and stunned, until I stabbed forward with the dagger. I didn’t dare give him the time to recover, and I felt his warm blood spray across me as I cut his throat. It wasn’t an honorable kill, I knew, and I also knew it must have looked terrible to the people huddled in the darkness, but I couldn’t afford to think like that.
I had people to save.
I quickly searched him, finding what I’d hoped to find in a pouch on his belt: two healing potions! I downed one and put the other in my storage. Gathering my sword and dagger, I headed across the hold to the nearest ladder, rushing to join the fight again.
I glanced at the sailors as I passed them. They held hands out to their sides to show they were unarmed, so I ignored them. I knew what I had to do: kill that bastard mage, and capture or kill the captain. I could only hope Bob was doing well!
I dragged myself up the ladder, cursing under my breath all the way. I was getting stronger, damn I was getting much fitter and stronger than I’d ever been in my life, but still, climbing even stairs in full armor was painful. Climbing ladders introduced issues involving chafing that I resolved to avoid for the rest of my life.
The twenty or so rungs to the upper deck felt far too long to climb, but once I reached the top, and pushed open the hatch a little, I had to grit my teeth in anger. I’d made it to the hatch just in time to see the mage blast poor batshit little An’na from his feet. He’d been running straight at the mage, then was sent flying through the air to disappear off the side of the ship, his body trailing smoke.
I could only hope there was something between him and the ground, preferably the marshalling yard, but with all the turning around, I just couldn’t be sure.
I heaved the hatch up, pulling myself out and drawing the dagger and sword before the bang from the hatch’s impact had finished ringing in the air. There were a handful of battles going on across the deck. Lydia was rolling around on the floor with a man on top of her, both fighting to plunge a single dagger into the other. Oren was facing off against a human with a broadsword, deflecting the clumsy chops to the sides off an old battered shield and lashing out with an axe in response, crunching it into the chainmail he wore. The golem lay on the floor, one leg entirely missing and the other damaged, but it was still craw
ling forward stoically.
Arrin was ducking and diving behind barrels and the cannons, occasionally firing a Firebolt back at someone above me, and as I turned to follow the trajectory, I saw the mage’s hand emerge from the raised deck above. A flash of light streaked across the air to end in an explosion of wood splinters that made Arrin cry out in pain.
I was having that bastard.
Before the thought had finished echoing in my brain, I was running to my left, kicking off the wall of the hull to boost me as I practically flew up the stairs. I jumped two steps at a time while I tried to come up with a plan to get close enough.
I breached the top of the stairs, finding two men trying to kill Bob. The captain was dead at his feet, as were two others, but Bob was in a bad way.
The mage stood in the center of the upper deck, firing spells first one way, then the other, trying to kill Arrin and my men while also aiding the soldiers that were fighting Bob. He didn’t look so pristine in his white robes now. Blood splattered them, and the left side of his face was blackened, the eye a milky white and hair singed away. I grinned as I ran forward, pleased with the damage to his face as he spun to confront me. Looked like Arrin had scored a good hit!
I saw his one remaining eye open in shock, then blaze in anger as he recognized me, realizing perhaps for the first time that I wasn’t Lucius, and that all of this was down to that mistake he’d made on his approach to the Tower.
He snapped off a small arcing flare of light at me, too fast to dodge, and I moaned as it hit my breastplate, splashing like a water balloon. Instantly, I felt the liquid begin to burn as noxious fumes assaulted me, making me cough and squint to see through suddenly watering eyes.
You have been hit with Acid Splash!
You will take one (1) point of damage per second until the acid is purged from your body or it has run its course.
Ninety-six (96) seconds remaining…
He’d been about to cast the spell at Bob, but had changed the target at the last second, slowing me instead. I could see my health bar turn a sickly green, but it didn’t stop me from lashing out with my sword in an attempt to take his head. He dove backward, the railing of the upper deck stopping him as I swung again. He dodged to his right and my sword dug in, getting caught on some ornamental wooden frieze. However, my ‘Dagger of Ripping,’ combined with the ‘Ring of Infliction’s’ pain amplification, made him stagger, blood spraying from his shoulder where I’d managed to catch him.
He grabbed a small stick from his belt with his right hand, snapping it cleanly in half. I was close enough to feel the runic device activate, and a shield flared into being between us as he moved to the side and started backing away.
I gritted my teeth, releasing the sword, and tore at the latches on my armor. The pressure and the burning relented as the armor clattered to the ground. I’d have washed the acid, or whatever it was, off, but I needed my mana to finish this.
Something was on fire nearby, and I saw the smoke flow through the barrier to wrap around the mage. As I made multiple attempts to lash out, my dagger just bounced off, causing the mage to grin at me evilly. He out pulled a mana potion and began trying to work the cork free. I had only seconds, judging by his struggle with his wounded arm. If he managed to get spells back in action against me, I was screwed.
I had one chance left, but it wasn’t a good one.
I cast healing on myself, glad to see my life bar creeping up again. I was at nearly three hundred now and climbing steadily, but I needed all that and more. My last thought as I backed up a few steps to start running forward as fast as I could was: I really hope ‘light drizzle’ doesn’t count as direct sunlight…
I activated the ability I’d gained from the SporeMother. ‘Child of the Night’ caused me to seemingly bloom into an explosion of darkness. I deactivated it a split second later, screaming as I passed through his barrier, as both the effects of his consecrated Light magic and the semi-direct sunlight did a number on me.
The world spun and I felt myself lose control of my stomach as nausea, the likes of which I’d never experienced, ripped through me‒and I’d had Norovirus in the past, and tried eating Indian takeout during it. I felt myself become fully solid as I crashed into the mage, taking us both to the ground. The impact knocked the mana potion free of his hand as I managed to gain enough control of my wildly spinning brain to stab out with the dagger. We landed hard, with him below, and I closed my eyes against the spinning world, lashing out again and again, while my stomach and bowels cramped and released.
It seemed to last forever, but when I could get control of my mind enough to focus, I felt Oracle’s cool hand on my brow. I was laid out on the deck, heart hammering in my chest. My mana, stamina, and health bars were all flashing red. Even as they slowly refilled, I realized didn’t even have double digits in any of them… and I was a mess!
The stink of vomit and my own bowels assailed my nose as Oracle spoke softly to me.
“It’s okay, Jax. You did it! He’s dead! Just drink this. Please, Jax, drink the potion, and I’ll make it all okay again…” She was on the verge of tears. I opened my mouth, feeling something being poured in. I gulped it down, only to have another potion replacing the first, and Oracle told me to swallow that as well. I did, blinking in relief as I saw my health and mana bars start refilling at an increased rate. Someone shouted something from the lower deck, and she spun around. A furious tone I’d only heard once before, when the Vatin interrupted us, filled her voice.
“Stay down there! I told you before, he needs to recover! Bob, if they come up here…”
I heard the clattering sound of Bob dragging his half-broken form to the stairs. A raw, low growl came from him that made the hackles on my neck rise in instinctive fear.
Then she was back, stroking my face and telling me there was nothing to be concerned about.
I felt her using our shared mana pool, warm water and healing spells alternating as she used magic to clean me down while I remained lying on my back. My health and other bars were climbing rapidly, but I’d come too close to death too many times in a short period of time, so I stayed put. My mind was still reeling in shock over the side effects of that last ability.
I could see notifications blinking rapidly, seemingly desperate for my attention, but until Oracle cast her final spell, I just didn’t want to move.
When it was done, and the upper deck was washed clean, the blood and bodily wastes flushed out to drain away down the side of the ship, I slowly sat upright. Drawing a deep breath, I shivered from the water drenching my body.
I was clean now thankfully, but damn, I was cold.
“I didn’t think you’d want them to see you like that, Jax…” Oracle whispered to me. “They wouldn’t leave you, though. The crew of the ship are all dead or captured, and Oren handed out all the health potions he could find. Everyone that survived is in as good a condition as possible, but they won’t go anywhere. They want to see you. They want their Lord.”
“I’m no lord, Oracle. I…how many? How many did we lose?” I asked, my voice hoarse as I studied my sopping armor.
“An’na, Rol and Makin died. The others are alive and will be okay. I sent a golem to the Hall of Memories to get the Spellbook for ‘Lay on Hands,’ and it should be back soon. It’s a book we’ve got two of, and it’s just a basic healing spell. Is that okay?”
“Three of them… three people died because I wasn’t good enough, Oracle. They died because I failed to plan properly, to be as strong as I could be. They’re dead, and you want to know if giving a healing spell out is okay? Damn, you can give one to everyone, as far as I care! If I’d thought about healing, about support rather than killing, those three might still be alive!” The last words came out as a half shout, immediately followed by a warning growl from Bob. I saw the top of Oren’s head peeking over stairs, and I spoke up quickly as Bob moved to intercept him.
“Bob! It’s okay, man; stand down.” I said, giving him a wave. Bob lo
oked over at me before lowering his arms and backing up to let Oren onto the upper deck, who was swiftly followed by Cai. They headed straight to me, Cai reaching out a hand. I took it, letting him assist me to my feet.
“Nae, laddie! Ah heard whut ye said. You think t’ deaths be on yer head? Nae. They be free now; they fought fer their freedom, and won! Dinna ye be takin’ that away from them!” Oren said. Cai spoke up, nodding in agreement.
“He’s right, Lord. They volunteered to fight, to defend our new home, and even though we’ve had only a few days here, they were altogether better than years lived as a slave. They died free. You don’t know what that means until you are classed as property, less valuable than a chair or table.”
“I…all I can say is that I’m still sorry. They died to defend us. I’ll do my best to make their sacrifice worth it.” I said, feeling tears wet my cheeks. I’d barely known them, but they’d died for me. For my decisions.
An’na came back to me in that instant, a memory of him standing holding his twin maces, slowly trying to do the figure of eight move I’d shown him, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. Rol, tripping on a spear he was carrying and jumping back to his feet, shamefaced but laughing along as Arrin poked fun at his friend. Last of all, Makin, with the tiny figure I’d seen him clutching when he though nobody could see, a carving made of wood he’d created somewhere over the few days he’d lived free. He’d kept it hidden from others, but he’d kissed it and spoken to it quietly.
I stepped to the front of the raised deck and looked down at the people gathered below me. The ship’s crew that had surrendered, including the old helmsman, sat off to the left, ankles crossed, hands on their heads. To the right were piled bodies of the slain, our own three laid on the Tower marshalling ground, well clear of the attackers’ bodies. And there, in the middle, stood my own people, not just the ones that had fought, but the others as well, all lending a hand to help.
“All I can say to you all is that I’m sorry,” I said, my voice breaking. I coughed and pressed on. “I’m sorry our friends died; no, I’m sorry our FAMILY has lost members. They fought for us. They fought for all of us, and now they are gone, sleeping the long sleep and dreaming, while we think of them. We will not forget them, nor forget the bravery of you all. I saw you, Arrin. I watched you drawing the mage’s spells, running and diving, throwing your Firebolt back at him. I saw you saving your family, and I’ll never forget that. I saw you, Oren, charging into the oncoming fire. I saw you use your shield to protect Rikka; you risked yourself without a thought. I saw you, Lydia…” I went on, picking out bits of the fight I’d not even realized I’d seen, the details coming to me easily. I praised them all, each and every one of them, and I saw their grieving backs straighten, tears flowing unashamedly. I praised those that hadn’t fought in the battle, but had built traps, or fed their brothers and sisters. I found something for everyone, but I praised the dead most of all.
