by Pirateaba
And now Ceria Springwalker knew exactly what she had to do. She had to destroy that damn symbol, or at least cover it somehow.
And she had to do it without seeing. For a few minutes, Ceria just sat on the ground, trying not to scream as all of these thoughts came crashing down. She fumbled at her broken lip and found the hole, touched the wound on her shoulder and realized she was half-naked again. At least she hadn’t taken off her underwear in her craze.
Not that it would have mattered. Ceria didn’t know where the other three Horns of Hammerad were. She knew Ksmvr was close by, but he’d been unresponsive last she checked.
“Okay, focus Ceria.”
She muttered to herself and spat out some blood as she tried to concentrate. The first thing Ceria did was conjure a stream of water out of the air. She washed out her mouth and spat several times until the worst of the blood and vomit was gone. She was terribly thirsty, but she knew better than to drink the magical water she’d created. It would just mess with her body and dissipate soon enough.
“Should’ve learned [Create Water].”
Ceria muttered to herself as she stood up and tried to find her way to one of the walls. It was horrible being blind. She kept running into piles of bones and things she wasn’t sure of, which was far worse. But Ceria moved forwards, climbing over bones, slipping, falling, getting back up until at last her fingers touched something hard and rough and flat.
The wall. It was coated with that same black, flaking substance she’d felt on the floor earlier. Ceria pulled her hands back in revulsion, but now she knew where she was. She remembered the symbol had been high up, but she didn’t know where.
How was she going to do this? The only thing Ceria could think was that she had to take off her blindfold and cast a spell as fast as she could, but even that felt like a mistake. At the very least, she could follow the wall. It wasn’t as if Ceria’s blindfold was perfect; she could still sense some light. And if she dispelled her [Light] spell and followed the source of that faint light…
Ceria stumbled around the perimeter of the dark pit, feeling her way ahead and kicking bones and other things out of the way as she held one hand to the wall. She was in a massive pit, at least forty feet across by her count. It was clearly meant to capture hundreds of people, and from the bones Ceria kept running into, it might have already served its purpose countless times.
The light, the piercing light that made her want to tear off her blindfold kept getting brighter and brighter. In the darkness, it was Ceria’s only guide. She stopped where she thought the light was the brightest—she couldn’t look in any direction without it growing dimmer.
“Here?”
Ceria raised her skeletal hand upwards, trying to figure out where to aim. She remembered…the symbol was about ten feet off the floor? Higher? Maybe a bit.
What spell should she use? Ceria was under no illusions. Anyone who could cast a spell like [Insanity] and anchor it here was probably a far better mage than she was, and they would have protected the runes with wards that her best spells—[Ice Spike] or [Fireball]—would fail to overcome. What should she do then?
Ceria remembered the black gunk that she’d touched on all the walls and the floor. It was everywhere. Maybe that was the answer.
“Cover it.”
Yes, if she covered the spell, it would lose a lot of its power. Ceria didn’t know any spells that could create smoke or fog, but she could always improvise. It wasn’t easy to make new spells, but altering existing ones…
First, Ceria made water appear out of the air. She held it in place, and then materialized earth, as if she was going to use the [Stone Dart] spell. Earth and water. She mixed the two together, and felt thick mud trickling between her fingers. She smiled, winced, as the pain in her lip flared, and lifted the ball of mud up.
It wasn’t even a spell, really. It was just using the basic theories of magic to create…well, an inefficient mess. If she’d known the spell—[Mud Ball] perhaps—she would have been able to use it far more effectively and with less mana.
But this would do. Ceria held the sloppy mess between her hands as she tried to figure out where to throw it. The spell would last for a while if she put enough mana into it, enough time to cover the damn rune. But where was it—
“What are you doing, boy? Shirking your duties again?”
The harsh voice in her ear made Ceria shout in surprise and jump away. But a cold hand caught her in a steely grip, and a sharp sensation from her side made Ceria freeze in terror. A familiar voice whispered in her ear.
“Trying to hide in the library? Not on my watch.”
“Pisces?”
It was his voice, but not him. Pisces would never have thrown Ceria backwards as the man did now, and he would never have threatened her with a weapon. The young man Ceria had known had always hated physical violence, regardless of how he had changed in every other respect.
This person was not the same. He held her in place, driving the sharp object into Ceria’s side, cutting into her flesh. What was it? A knife?
No—jagged edges. Bone. Ceria shuddered as Pisces’ voice grated in her ears.
“I’ve told you once; you get up and you do the practice every day, before dawn! Anything less and I’ll have your hide.”
Ceria held her breath. She knew Pisces was as deadly with a rapier as he was with spells. In his hands, the jagged length of bone might well kill her before she could take him out with a spell. Carefully, she tried her most soothing voice possible.
“Pisces, it’s me. Ceria—”
“What? What? You don’t get to call me names, boy. My name is ‘sir’ until you can prove you can handle a blade!”
The shard of bone dug deeper in Ceria’s side. She gasped—she could feel it piercing her skin.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Better! Now, why aren’t you in the training grounds?”
The pressure eased on her. Slightly. Ceria’s hands were clenched. She had no idea what to say to him. What could she say to a madman who thought he was his father?
“I—can’t see.”
“What? Stop talking nonsense!”
“No—look!”
Ceria pointed to her blindfold. Pisces must have been able to see in the dim light, because he paused. His voice sounded approving.
“Blindfold, eh? Good lad. Helps with your reflexes. Now, dodge this—”
She only had a moment’s warning before the sharp feeling in her side vanished. Ceria felt air moving and ducked. But the blow Pisces gave her was a kick to the stomach. The half-Elf dropped to her hands and knees and wretched. Above her, Pisces laughed nastily.
“You’ve got to move faster than that if you want to become a true [Fencer], brat.”
The pain was nauseating, but at least she didn’t throw up; there was nothing left. Ceria gritted her teeth as she stood up. The mud was still in her good hand. If she threw it—
“Pis—sir, I need to get rid of that rune up there. Could you help me with that?”
“Rune? What rune? Stop talking rot, boy! There will be no magic in my household. If you’ve been making sparks—”
“No, that rune! There!”
“That? That’s just the moon. What, is it too bright for your eyes? Take off your blindfold and let’s begin already!”
Ceria let out a despairing groan. It was no good. Pisces was trapped in his imaginary world. She had to do something. But what?
“I’m waiting, boy. Don’t make me impatient!”
Ceria hesitated. She clenched her fist, and then heard another voice, growing closer. This one was dignified, and each syllable was carefully enunciated with a delicate inflection in the woman’s voice.
“What is this commotion all about? Do you people not know what time it is?”
It was Yvlon’s voice, raised to sound more high-pitched. Ceria groaned. Perfect. Another insane person was all she needed. Her first thought was that Yvlon might be persuaded to help even in her delirium, b
ut then she remembered how most Humans treated half-Elves. And a second thought on the heels of the first: she had a sword. Ceria grew very still with fear, but Pisces raised his voice as he apparently turned towards Yvlon
“Well there you are, boy! Ready for morning practice at last, or do I have to burn all those damn books of yours to get you to pay attention?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Yvlon’s outraged voice gave Ceria hope. Pisces was snapping at her as if she was…Ceria? He wasn’t differentiating between Yvlon and Ceria at all. They were all the same to him. They were all ‘boy’, which was to say…Pisces. Ceria knew who the man she heard in Pisces’ voice had to be.
His father.
And he was trying to train Pisces. But Yvlon wasn’t cooperating. She gasped with indignation, and then, all of a sudden, her voice changed, grew deeper.
“I am Ylawes Byres, [Swordsman] and heir to the Byres name. Who are you to challenge me with weapon in hand, stranger?”
“Y—what? Are you pretending to be a nobleman? I’ll knock that arrogance right out of you.”
“You would do well to lower your weapon. I am armed—”
“I’ll take you on, old man!”
Ceria shouted the words and ducked away from the two, heart racing as she stumbled in another direction. She heard a grunt of surprise, but then a harsh laugh from Pisces.
“Challenging your old man at last? Fine then, I’ll draw your blood as a lesson!”
She heard footsteps, but not towards her. Yvlon’s outraged voice echoed off one of the walls as Ceria crept away.
“You dare to bare your blade against me? I’ll have your head for that!”
This time Ceria heard ringing metal as Ceria unsheathed her own blade. She heard another laugh, and then a grunt as she heart the thunk of something striking metal. Yvlon cried out in outrage as Ceria looked around wildly.
Her two team mates were about to kill each other. Pisces was a skilled fighter, but Yvlon was in armor. Either way, one of them would die unless Ceria hurried.
Where was the magic symbol? Ceria looked up and saw a glow around the edges of her blindfold. She raised the mud and threw it as hard as she could. She heard a splatter, but the light didn’t dim.
“Damn it. Where—”
More mud. Ceria slopped it into her hands and threw it again, but she sense the mud splattered in the air rather than stay in a ball. She cursed again and tried to mush the mud together. She threw wildly, but nothing changed.
“There? There!?”
It wasn’t working, and Ceria could heard Yvlon cursing as she struck the ground and Pisces taunted her. Ceria raised her arm, and then heard a voice.
“Not there.”
She jerked, but it was Ksmvr. He was calling out to her across the room.
“To the left and down slightly.”
Ceria didn’t hesitate. She adjusted her aim and threw.
“You missed. A bit higher and more left.”
Desperately, Ceria poured earth into her hands and added water. She molded a sopping mudball and took aim. She heard Yvlon cry out in pain and aimed desperately. She threw into the darkness.
“Ah—”
The light went out. Instantly, Ceria tored the blindfold away from her head. The world was absolute darkness.
“[Light]!”
This time, the flare of light was a dark green, and it didn’t burn her eyes. Ceria looked around wildly, and saw two struggling shapes fighting over a sword.
The magic had ceased, at least for now, but the others were still insane. Ceria ran towards both of them and cried out as she raised her right hand.
“Stop! [Stone Fist]!”
Yvlon turned and raised her arm for only a second before the stone hand smashed into her chest. She fell backwards and Ceria turned and knocked Pisces backwards with a backhanded swipe. He stumbled back, staring at the gauntlet made of rock that covered Ceria’s good hand.
“Magic? You dare? I’ll make you suffer for this!”
His eyes were wild and he had Yvlon’s sword. Ceria raised her skeletal hand warningly.
“Don’t make me do this, Pisces.”
“I told you, I’m not—”
“Ceria!”
Ksmvr appeared in a shower of bones. Pisces leapt back as a few flew towards him, and then narrowed his eyes at the Antinium. He said not a word, but charged with a wild cry. But Ceria was faster.
“[Ice Shard].”
The frozen icicle that shot from her finger flew as straight as an arrow, but the difference in this one was that the head was blunt, rather than sharp. It struck Pisces squarely in the forehead as he leapt at her, and he staggered. Ksmvr shoulder-charged him to the ground and struck him with one hand. Pisces sagged, and he went limp.
“Dead gods.”
Ceria took one deep breath and then another. Ksmvr lowered Pisces to the ground as Ceria sat down hard—on a piece of bone. She yelped and tossed the yellowed thing across the room.
“Ceria Springwalker, are you well?”
“Me? I’m—fine.”
She could taste blood and her lower lip had a hole in it. Her right shoulder still burned and Pisces had drawn blood with that damn bone. She was not fine, but other things were more important.
“Where’s Yvlon?”
“Over there.”
Ksmvr pointed and Ceria saw Yvlon standing and staring blankly ahead. The woman’s blonde hair was matted with blood, and she had a deep cut down one cheek where Pisces must have struck her. But she didn’t appear to notice any of that. She looked over haughtily as Ceria and Ksmvr approached.
“Yvlon?”
“I am Yelen Byres—”
“Rot, she’s still under the spell.”
Ceria sighed. Ksmvr looked uncertainly at Yvlon.
“Should we knock her out?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“No. I don’t think that’s wise. Let’s just tie her hands and legs up so she can’t hurt us if her personality changes again.”
“That is wise.”
Ksmvr approached Yvlon. The armored woman backed away, raising her voice in outrage.
“I’m sure I’ve never been so offended—unhand me, you—!”
She clawed at Ksmvr, but her two hands were no match for his three. In a few minutes he had her trussed up and lying in a clear part of the pit. Yvlon shouted angrily at them until Ceria stuffed her blindfold into the woman’s mouth. Yvlon spat it out and she began gnawing at the ropes like an animal. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it kept her occupied.
That done, Ceria had to take a few seconds just to breathe. While she was doing that, she finally took a good look around the pit she’d found herself in. The dark room was lit by her green light and it made the lurid piles of remains all the more disturbing.
Swords, bones, rotted fabric. The pit was a huge tomb of bodies, corpses and yellowed bones, all that remained countless adventurers who’d been trapped here. Time had eaten away almost all the details of these fallen people, but Ceria could still see some clues as to how they’d died. A skull split by the worn shaft of an axe, a skeleton cut in two here, and one whose bones looked scorched—
“What a nightmare.”
Ceria shuddered as Ksmvr came to stand next to her. She looked at the Antinium and saw that he was holding his injured side, where a good section of his chitin had been picked away.
“Are you okay, Ksmvr?”
He nodded.
“I am only moderately inconvenienced, Captain. As soon as you covered the magical symbol I regained use of my mine.”
“Good. That’s…good.”
Ceria breathed in and out a few more times. She could still remember being insane, remember the sensation of losing all the structure in her head. She looked at Ksmvr, and then remembered she was still half-naked.
“Where are my pants? And my belt—did you see them, Ksmvr?”
He nodded.
“I removed them to construct your blindfold. My apolo
gies. They are over here.”
The Antinium retrieved Ceria’s possessions and she put her pants back on with a sigh of relief. The Antinium had cut a large strip out from one of the legs, but some clothing was better than none. She sat on the ground and began attaching her belt.
More importantly, with Ceria’s belt came her water flask and the healing potion she’d brought. She greedily drank water from her flask while she offered the healing potion to Ksmvr. He applied half to his torn-up side and handed it back to Ceria. She hesitated, and then drank the potion rather than apply it to each of her wounds.
“Gah! That’s foul.”
Ceria tossed the empty bottle to one side and winced as it smashed. Ksmvr hesitated, and then sat next to her.
“That was a most dangerous trap we were caught in.”
“You think?”
“I do.”
The half-Elf shook her head.
“We nearly died. If it hadn’t been for my heritage and luck—how long were we under the spell?”
“I cannot say.”
Beside her, Ksmvr shifted to look at Ceria. His normally impassive voice changed slightly, grew a bit uncertain.
“Do you believe that spell will affect Pisces and Yvlon for much longer?”
“I don’t know.”
Ceria rubbed at her face.
“Maybe? It might wear off soon, but you never know. At least it wasn’t real insanity that hit us, just the spell.”
“Oh?”
Ksmvr looked at her. Ceria nodded tiredly, feeling the healing potion getting to work on the rest of her body.
“It’s just the magical effect. Real insanity—you’d have to be a better mage to really create madness in people. This is just…an approximation. The spell reaches into your head and messes up your world. It’s close, but not the same.”
“I see. That would explain my experience.”
The Antinium nodded a few times as he sat next to Ceria. He hesitated, and then cleared his throat awkwardly.
“If the spell had created true insanity in me, I would have become Aberration at once. And then I would have killed all three of you within seconds.”
