Aspirant 2: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Maxx Whittaker

  I have to fight this. Have to… Do something.

  I quest out with my gift, praying that using it one more time won’t push me too far. I push through the glare, press into the Eye’s moist surface and then through it. Its inside is a mass of flesh and blood, like some Frankenstein monster built of corpses and molded into an eyeball. At its center is some kind of beating core; not a heart. Something else, something wrong. Even a gentle touch of my mind makes me retch. I draw away instinctively and shy away from whatever evil’s inside.

  But no. We won’t last much longer. I push aside the sickness, the putrid vileness that assaults me as I dive back into the eye to its core. I grasp it with my power, hold it tight, and retch again. It’s like holding a pile of wriggling worms coated in rotten grease.

  I yank with every bit of power that I have left, tearing the core through its massive pupil. It erupts from the eyeball’s surface in an explosion of gore and the light dies instantly. I release it, letting it fall to the stones.

  The Eye of Alkazar follows, plummeting fifty feet straight down. When it hits the street, it almost vaporizes, showering the buildings and everything around chunks of flesh and blood.

  “Oh God,” Mika says as a hunk of eyeball plops next to her. “Gross.”

  I pull her up, letting her lean on me while she regains her strength. My legs are jelly, but I take the load for both of us. “Wick, get up,” I croak. “It’s dead.”

  “Can’t… Weak.” His body looks so tiny curled up on the stones.

  “Shit.” Mika knows where my mind’s at and lets me go. Even though she still looks shaky, she waves me over to him. I stagger to Wick and bend to pick him up.

  “Nah, man, just… Just give me a sec,” he wheezes. “Takes a while to wear off. You go. Caster knows where you are.”

  “Not leaving you behind, and we can’t stay,” I say. “Come on.”

  He doesn’t answer, just curls in my arms as I heft him.

  We take off in a shambling run. “Close now,” Mika says.

  “Good. I’m almost done,” I say.

  God, I hope there’s no one waiting for us at the hideout.

  Passersby are filling the streets, and a chorus of worried conversation chases us. People mill around the exploded eyeball as we work our way around it, blocking our path and making it impossible to hide the fact that we were its intended targets.

  “What the hell’s going on?” A girl in a witch robe and hat demands. She clutches a broom under her arm. She’s beautiful, like everyone else in Lifestream, with sharp cheekbones and a Nordic face with full lips. Lips that are twisted in a decidedly pissed off frown at the moment. “No bullshit on the street at night. You want the Crimson Dawn up our asses?”

  I don’t know what the Crimson Dawn is, but she’s blocking our path, so I open my mouth to apologize.

  Mika beats me to it. “Obsidian,” she gasps. “Night raid! They have people inside the city, trying to take the defenses from the back!”

  At her words, a crescendo of cries rise up. “Those fuckers!” a player in enormous armor calls. “To arms! Defend the city!”

  “Mika, you are the smartest goddamned person I’ve met.”

  She blushes prettily through the bits of spattered brain on her face.

  The witch watches the knight and about a dozen others file off toward the walls. Mika whispers in my ear. “Lyrella. Level 34.”

  Great. If she decides to be suspicious…

  Instead, she turns to us, eyes wide and concerned. “Look, I’m so sorry you’ve been through some shit tonight. I’m on local watch, and we try to keep stuff like this outside city limits. No one wants Crimson Dawn up our asses.”

  “Crimson Dawn?” I ask. I remember Wick mentioning them, but he was scant on details.

  “You don’t know? Must be new.” She throws her broom over her shoulder, brushing platinum white hair to the side. “Player run police force, owned by a couple of the richer guilds. Shit gets craycray and they start knocking heads. They know people respawn so they’re not too choosey about whose head or how hard they knock it, if you catch my drift.”

  “Yeah, got it,” I say, rubbing my eyes. God, I’m tired. “We’re sorry. Just trying to make it a few blocks and keep running into trouble.”

  Lyrella holds her broom above the ground and lets go. It hovers in place. She hops aboard, hiking her robe up and revealing long, trim legs wrapped in black and white striped stockings. And that’s the moment I decide that I might have a thing for witches.

  By the way Mika eyes the little band of flesh above the stocking and below the robe, I think she feels the same way.

  Lyrella turns and pats the broom. “Here, hop on. Least I can do is get you where you’re going. You guys look beat.”

  Normally, I’d do the chivalrous guy thing, especially in front of a couple of gorgeous women, but as it is, I’m almost pathetically grateful for her kindness. Turns out, it just takes a few hours of assholes trying to kill you to break down those barriers.

  I help Mika over the stick. She turns and flashes me a quick grin as I throw my leg over behind her. “Second best wood I’ve ridden this week.”

  I almost drop Wick.

  Lyrella does something and we shoot straight up in the air. Mika squawks and grabs the witch around her middle, and I do the same to her. Lyrella laughs. “Sorry, shoulda warned you! Um, maybe not so tight.”

  “Sorry!” Mika says in a low voice. Oh yeah. She’s definitely into witches now.

  “Where to?”

  Wick adjust his position in my arms. His strength’s returning fast, thank God. “Novigrad Apartments,” he wheezes.

  “Oh, that’s just a quick skip away,” Lyrella says. “Easy peasy.”

  “The Novigrad apartments?” Mika groans. “Is that next to the Nilfgaardian Trailer Park?”

  I laugh as the broom shoots forward, from zero to like thirty in a heartbeat. Some kind of magic must hold us on, because we stay rooted to the length of wood like we’ve been glued to it.

  Lyrella’s not wrong. In less than ten seconds I spot the rooftop garden Mika and I spent a night in. “Right there would be lovely!” Mika calls.

  The broom banks and heads in for a landing. I have no clue how she controls it, but it maneuvers beautifully. If we end up stuck in Lifestream at the end of all this, I am definitely getting something like it. Just, maybe not as broomlike.

  “When we get close, jump off and roll!” Lyrella calls.

  “Wait, what?” Mika and I shout together.

  The black brim of her witch had hides everything of her face except the grin she flashes us. “Kidding!”

  Okay. I like her.

  But something’s wrong. Lyrella skids to an airborne halt about twenty feet from the roof. “Shit,” she whispers.

  “What?” I hope this is another joke.

  “Got company,” she says. “Get ready to bail for real.”

  I crane my neck around her pointed hat, trying to see what got her spooked.

  “Obsidian,” Mika says. “Embermane. Level 40.”

  “I see him.” Shit.

  A figure floats in the air with his arms crossed above our hideout. He wears long blue robes that billow in the wind and a crown of ice. His white beard is caked with blood, trailing from one of his eyes which is… Missing. Like it’s been ripped from his head.

  It doesn’t seem to bother him, though. “Sam Warner!” he booms in a voice that covers the hundred feet between us effortlessly. It’s got to be magically amplified and sounds like a god made human. “Come with me now. There’s nowhere to go. No way to escape. Give up or watch everyone you love die. Slowly.”

  “I’m assuming you’re Sam,” Lyrella asks.

  No point in lying. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t suppose you’ll share why Obsidian wants you so badly?”

  “It’s… Complicated.”

  Lyrella laughs. It’s unafraid, a beautiful, tinkling exhalation that somehow relaxes me even in the face of a lev
el 40 mage. “It always is.” She turns to Embermane. “Hey, kindly fuck off, buddy! These folks are under my protection.”

  “Lyrella, Obsidian has tolerated your enclave for years because you have not troubled us,” he roars, voice tinged with rage. “Rest assured that you will not be protected if you cross us in this.”

  “Hah! Stuff it up your bony arse!” She sings out. “You can’t take Acheryx, and you know it!” She crosses her arms, mimicking his pose. “By the way, what happened to your eye! Did you let it wander away, big guy?”

  Embermane makes a sound that I’m not sure is human.

  “Wait,” Mika says. “That huge ass eyeball was–”

  “His,” Wick says. “It didn’t seem like important information at the time, but when you cast that particular spell it requires a few things. You know. Soul of someone you murdered in cold blood, your own flesh.” He shrugs. “Fun stuff.”

  “Last chance, witch,” Embermane says, emphasizing the word witch in a way that makes it sound like he’s thinking of a very different word. “Step aside or I’ll kill you here and now.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Lyrella says. “You know the Crimson Dawn’ll bend you over a barrel, and you’ll void all raiding contracts with Acheryx.” She leans forward. “You’re bluffing.”

  Embermane pulls something from his belt. I can barely see it at this distance, but it looks like a magic wand straight out of Harry Potter. He growls and points it at us.

  “Oh, shit!” Lyrella says, and the broom drops ten feet just as a beam of indigo screams over our heads. It chills the air as it passes and smells like rotten ice. “He wasn’t bluffing!”

  She pulls out a wand of her own and throws a fireball up toward the floating mage. Mika hurls one of her own, and the flames meld together as they hurtle upward. “Nice!” Lyrella shouts, piloting the broom toward the garden rooftop.

  The flames impact an invisible shield, tearing themselves apart in a breathtaking explosion that accomplishes exactly jack. “Not so nice!” Mika shouts, earning a quick laugh from Lyrella.

  “I’m gonna drop you!” she shouts. “You really will have to duck and roll because after you scoot he’ll be on you like fingerbones on a necklace!”

  Whats on a what?

  “Sorry, not joking this time.” The broom darts to the side as another blue bolt flashes past like a laser from Star Wars. “I’ll hold him off while you guys escape!”

  “Why?” I shout. “You don’t know us!”

  “But I know them.” She gives Embermane the finger as she swoops toward the rooftop. “Obsidian can go screw themselves!”

  Okay. I love this girl.

  “Thank you!” Mika calls as we get close.

  “Anytime! Now, jump!”

  We do. I throw myself from the broom as she slows just enough that our impact won’t kill us. I hit the rooftop hard and roll immediately. I’m durable as hell, now, but it doesn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch as I slam into one of the planters. It tips over, showering me in dirt and barbed roses.

  I spring up immediately like something out of a horror movie. Thorns scrape my arms and face as fertilizer streams away. Where’s Mika? Wick? I lost him somewhere in the fall.

  I spot him immediately. He’s perched on top of another planter like… Well… A cat. “Land on your feet?” I ask, searching for Mika.

  “Har, har. Your girlfriend’s over here. Come help.”

  Mika’s half under the bench we used a few days ago. “Oh, shit, are you–”

  “Little dazed,” she says. “Head my hit. Or… Other way around. Something.”

  Crap. I grab her gingerly, sliding her out. I sit her up and brace her against the bench. Her eyes are swimmy, and she crinkles them as she tries to focus on me. “Hey, lovey,” she says. “Remember this bench? Ohhhh man, that was good. Let’s do it again. We’re already here.” She smiles with one half of her mouth and makes a grab for my pants.

  Above us, something explodes. Lyrella races by, so low I can see her stockinged legs splayed to the sides of her broom as she cruises past. She throws three colored balls that fling upward and surround Embermane before spinning around him so quickly they blend into one color. Then they band him, squeezing tighter and tighter.

  “Oh, shit!” Wick cheers. “I think she got him!”

  I don’t see what Embermane does, but suddenly the ring shatters. It flings beams of color in every direction, and where they strike the city burns. One clips Lyrella, and with a shriek she spins away behind one of the taller buildings and we lose sight of her. Another hits the roof just a few feet away, tearing through stone and wood with a hiss and the stink of burnt charcoal.

  Embermane’s one eyed glare turns to us, far below.

  “Time to go!” Wick shouts.

  I’m already lifting Mika. She’s no longer clawing at my groin, and her eyes look a bit better. “Ohhh,” she moans as I pick her up. “Feelin’ lil pukey.”

  “If you’re gonna spew, spew in this.” It’s a ridiculous thing to quote, but I’m almost delirious with panic as I dash across the roof to the door. Mika’s almost weightless in my arms, and once again I send a silent thank you to the heavens for Citadel upgrades.

  Something detonates at our back just as I kick the roof door in. It tears off its hinges, though I’m not sure if it’s my foot or the explosion that throws me forward like a battering ram. I turn as I tumble into the hallway, landing on my back and shielding Mika from the hit.

  Wick scrambles past, slapping my shoulder. “Go, boy, go! He’s coming!”

  Through the doorway, the silhouette of Embermane swoops low. He thuds to the roof like a missile, shattering stone under his feet. “I’m losing patience, Sam Warner.”

  He raises his wand, pointing it at us. Blue light ignites at its tip.

  We’re not even standing. There’s no way we can avoid it.

  I throw a shield up, desperate, know that it won’t work.

  Embermane never fires. Something lands on the roof next to him.

  Something heavy.

  “Obsidian,” a voice like mountains shattering booms. “You are not welcome here.”

  Embermane turns, firing away from the door. I can’t see who he attacks, and I don’t care. I stand, pulling Mika up with me. “Can you run?”

  She still looks sick, but she gives me a quick nod. “Good to go.”

  She doesn’t look like it, but we don’t have time to question it. Wick stands at the stairwell, and if he had mind powers like I do I’m sure he’d be dragging us along through sheer will alone. “Hurry!” he shouts. “Titan’s a badass, but Embermane’s higher level.”

  Titan. “Maybe if we go back and help him–”

  “No! Dude! Look at you! You’re one foot in the grave and she’s worse! These are the scariest fuckers in Lifestream, and you want to be literally anywhere else when they fight!” He darts down the stairs, turning back occasionally to make sure I’m following. “And you know more Obsidians are coming to the party!”

  He’s not wrong. I clench my teeth and support Mika as we round the corner to our floor.

  Syl and the Astra are already in the hallway. Syl’s crouched low, claws dripping with blood, and at least three players lay dead at her feet. Astra’s arm is just reforming from blade form as she sheds drops of crimson.

  “What’s happening?” Astra shouts. Her eyes widen as we get close. “What happened to you two?”

  “Obsidian. Working with Kara,” Mika says. “Guess they got over differences.”

  “We noticed,” Astra says dryly, kicking one of the corpses at her feet. “They were waiting when we opened the door to see what the hell was going on out there.”

  Syl retracts her claws. “They did not live to regret it.”

  “Yeah, it’s a long story,” I say. The building shakes so violently we’re thrown to our knees. Only Syl and Wick stay upright. “We’ll tell you later! We have to run.”

  “Where?” Syl asks. “We have no backup plan.” />
  She’s right. We had no plan before Kara’s invite. Now we have none at all.

  Dusk stumbles into the hallway. “What’s going on?”

  “Your guildmates are not very nice,” Astra says mildly. “Thanks for the help with these guys,” she says, pointing at the corpses.

  Dusk grins. “I knew they were coming. And now you guys are dead.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s if Titan doesn’t kill Embermane,” I say, stung that she still wants us dead. I’m not sure why it matters. Maybe it was the last image of her, taking my peace offering. It was only a comfortable place to sit, but some part of me hoped she was human under all that disdain.

  Dusk blanches. “Wait, Embermane is here?” Her mouth works. “That makes no sense.”

  “Why?” Astra braces against the wall as the building shudders again.

  “He’s the old guild master,” she says, face pinched like she’s not sure she should be telling us this. “These days he only leaves the Stormspire if it’s really, really important.” She looks pointedly at me. “You are not.” But even as the words leave her perfect lips, something new shadows her eyes.

  Doubt.

  “Hey, thanks for that,” I say. Doubt aside, I’ve had enough of her disdain. “Wick, we need a new hiding spot.”

  He spreads his paws. “I’ve got nothing! This was my place, man. I mean, we could go down in the sewers, but that’s only a short-term thing. The shit down there…”

  “We can’t stay here,” Mika says. “We have to find some–”

  Her words die under a roar of tearing wood and stone. I watch in disbelief as the entire wall tears away and falls to the street below. Screams are cut short as chunks of wall the size of cars rain down. “Back, back!” I shout as the outside and inside of the building suddenly get a lot closer.

  Embermane floats into view. One of his arms is mangled, hanging uselessly at his side, but he holds a shining silver helmet larger than he is dangling in the other. His smile is maniacal, and the effect’s made worse by his still oozing eye socket.

  “Titan,” Wick whispers. “No…”

  Embermane drops the helmet and starts toward us.