by Marc Mulero
“Wait. You’re saying that Masarian created that enchantment and the channel I was sucked into afterward? That you and he nearly killed me with that Glite?”
“We did kill you Eres. It was the only way.”
“For what, for me to become a Skrol?”
“And to break the enchantment.”
“What enchantment?”
“The one that Ramillion had summoned to track your heart. I needed to stop it.”
Eres felt violated in so many ways, like gigantic sets of eyes were on him throughout every step of his training. It was strange to think about suffering absolutely alone, while in actuality, he was being watched.
“And when your heartbeat ticked for the last time,” Seren continued, “when the enchantment was broken, that’s when Ramillion released his hounds to go find you. You can imagine his dismay when there was no body to be claimed.”
“Hounds?”
“I am not allied with Kovella’s Quittance, Eres. They are Ramillion’s and Lasarius’. Don’t you remember at the Colliding Spheres? Think. Can’t you see the tall robed man standing beside KQ? Doesn’t he look familiar now? Isn’t he one in the same with the Sorcerer culminating a hellstorm just next door?”
This man is a master at casting doubt. Even if he’s right… it doesn’t mean that he’s good. They can all still be in league together. Ramillion, Lasarius, and Seren. Don’t believe him, Eres. Be skeptical… stay skeptical. Fata didn’t die for nothing.
Eres straightened. “Let’s say I play along with all of this madness. What would you want me to do if I become the one who’s bequeathed all of the espers, the one to compile the secret?”
“Experience it. Grant it to the world or do not. Use your judgement.” Seren flashed all of the espers again, a rainbow of deep colors illuminating his face. “All that I ask is that you don’t let it be a means for political use. No ulterior agendas, no wars. None of it. By forming the secret and destroying the espers, you would break the seal and end ulmanity’s obsession with this overbearence.”
“But the Founder created all of this because ulmanity is innately curious. All it takes is one person with an eye into Gushda to get lost in it all once more. It would only take one more obsession,” Eres thought about his ooma’s addiction, “to stumble across the same path that he did. And then,” he snapped his fingers, “just like that, we’re back in the same cycle again. Tell me this: What if the next curious eye into the Eternal isn’t as composed as our beloved Founder? Didn’t think of that did you, Mr. High and Mighty. That’s right, ulmanity could be doomed. Destroying the espers is not the way. How could it be?”
Seren considered the young Dawn with the same poker face as always. “A risk I’m willing to take. Ulmanity was doing fine before the Founder and will do fine after his rules have been shattered. What are the chances that another eye sails the cosmos of Gushda and stumbles across the same curse? Either way, these would be your burdens to ponder if I perish.”
“What if I just walked all of these over to Ram?”
Seren finally scoffed. “The troll would never take them. Haven’t you noticed? He’s the most selfish being on the planet, or has grown to be anyway. What’s the expression? He wants to have his cake and eat it too? He wants another - Lasarius in this case - to gather the espers for him, to reveal the secret, and if there’s any curse associated with it, he wouldn’t have to suffer it. You could be that person for him too, if you’re so willing.”
The door began to pound more violently now, causing Seren to press his back against it.
“It’s getting worse?” Eres took a step forward in alarm.
“The pinnacle.”
“If this is the place we’re going to die, then there’s one more thing I need to know.”
Seren grunted, as if to say, “Out with it.”
“Why not just control your curiosity and separate those espers once more? Why compile the secret at all? Greed?”
“Not greed, Eres. I believe the secret is good. Something that could aid us in our quest for wisdom.”
“What if I told you it is not?” Eres stared straight into his eyes, dead serious.
“I would say that you are speculating.” The door kept making Seren’s body jerk.
“The clues are all there. I’ve compiled my hypothesis and posted it in Gushda. You only need to look in the right places. Maybe if you didn’t spend all of your time in Rudo-”
“You, Dawn, have no way to fathom the amount of time I’ve spent in both realms.”
“True. But perhaps you underestimate my ability to decipher.”
“Enough. This isn’t a dick measuring contest. Neither of us have the parts.”
Unexpectedly, the sound of a shider fleet hummed overhead, even louder than the storm beside them, blustering like the deepest horns in an orchestra. It reminded Eres immediately of the same overwhelming bellow as in the Edge of Eternity, right before he sank into the channel.
“Bastard. That’s what he was stalling for,” Seren muttered. “Kovella’s Quittance has arrived.”
Eres stared at Seren suspiciously, still unable to believe that KQ would be against him after being so sure for so many years.
“Listen, Dawn,” Seren flapped his cloak out of the way to check his supply, “I’m going to end Lasarius now. And when I do, you take the Elkar as a sign of good faith. Alright?”
Eres looked at Seren dumbly, even more skeptical now than before. He could feel his body tightening up as if it were telling him to stand down in the fight to come. He was wounded, exhausted, regardless if this patch had mitigated some of the damage.
“Why? I still don’t believe you. I told you that already.”
“That’s good.” Seren smirked. “Just stay that way - suspicious and curious – because it will prevent you from being a useless puppet for too much longer. You will see, Dawn, that you aren’t destined to remain this conflicted forever. You’ll find the answers you seek.”
Eres only shook his head.
“My espers are yours if I fail, it has already been decided. Heed my only request, Eres. Do not end the Silent War only to begin the explosive one.”
The hellstorm was starting to weaken outside - the pounding against the door reduced to some sporadic knocks and flashes from under the door dimming.
It was time.
Seren ripped up his seal from floor to ceiling and dashed into the fray.
Eres could feel his heart-rate increasing, his chest puffing out more and more with each breath. It was adrenaline. Because he knew that even though Seren was the bane of his family’s existence, there was more to the story: hidden threats and unseen enemies. There was an actual possibility that Seren Night was made to look like his foe, that Eres had been coerced.
I feel like I’ve been running around with a blindfold on. Lasarius, an Imperion, protector of the Factions. How could someone as profound as him be so perfectly hidden? I looked to you, Fata, to unpack all of this, but you never even mentioned other possibilities. Not in Gushda or otherwise. Not even a hint that there could’ve been another threat to the Skrols. It was always Seren Night. How could you have been so fixated?
His throat was running dry, fists balled… his friends were still out there too. He couldn’t just stand there out of harm’s way in such a dire situation.
If I let Seren go alone, he wins. Then I concede to everything he just debunked. I can’t let that happen, no way. I’ll find my own answers this time.
That fire within him was burning hot again, cycling through his veins, wiping away the dull pain of the wound and granting him strength.
The door was flapping open and closed, tearing further and further off of its sturdy hinges with every hit. Flame embers then slithered into the room from all angles, burning sections of the walls before immediately being blown out by rushing winds. Furniture was rattling too. The gusts tested their weight and started tossing things over in a nasty rage. There was no safety anymore. It was time to rip off the band
aid. Eres couldn’t linger any longer. He just couldn’t.
And so he twisted the Glite disc resting at his chest to make sure all armor reformed around him, even the patch over his abdomen. “Argh.” He flinched, teeth clenched as the raw wound begging to breathe was covered by scales once more.
“Fight it,” he said weakly before slamming a fist into his abs. “Fight it!”
The burning pain webbed outward from his belly up into his chest, but he could handle it. “For the legacy of my fata, for Windel. For me.”
Eres drew his blade, triggered a Glite mask to form over his face and ducked into the storm.
Oh shi-
Shards of stained glass were whirling around the entirety of the main room, different colors reflecting flickering lights, some even breaking so hard across his chest that they turned into dust. The once historical masterpieces lining the walls were shattered in symbolic fashion. Spears of flame whirred in a chaotic orbit around Lasarius. How, after all of this, could he still be alive? How could his body sustain such immense force? He was nearly floating off the ground from the energy emitted - limbs spread, forearms flexed, every tooth in his mouth showing as he exuded a pained smile.
Then there was Seren closing in, a wraith that could somehow weave in between shards, in between fire, could fight against wind. He was surpassing any talent Eres had ever seen. But what was his end game? If he got too close to a conduit, wouldn’t he just-?
Woosh.
A flaming spear whizzed past Eres. Then another. And another. Was he being targeted?
“Dawn, get down!” Seren bellowed mid-spin.
Eres tried to duck, then cartwheeled with one hand back onto his feet and backflipped high to dodge another barrage, all aimed at him.
Impossible that this is random.
Lasarius was becoming lucid again, controlling the massive storm conducted from Gushda. This hellfire. If it kept up like this, they would both perish without a doubt. Even the infamous Seren Night couldn’t get past these endless flaming waves.
“Seren Night… this war of ours.” Lasarius’ voice transcended his vocal cords and instead projected through the storm. “It is lost for you. There’s no one else to choose, and my allies are descending as we speak. The fate of the Skrol secret will be decided right here, right now.”
A fire spear suddenly seared through the top of Eres’ shoulder, grazing him, but the pain felt as though he’d been impaled through the heart.
“Ahhh!” He yelled against any semblance of composure, retracting his Glite mask to better see. “Damn it!” He covered his wound tightly with his other arm, breath heavy once more. It felt like he’d been electrocuted with fire, his insides sizzling, bypassing any protection Glite should’ve offered. This summoning must truly have been from hell.
“Dawn, run!” Seren was closing, two thick layers of fiery orbits left to get through, but even he was slowing down. It must’ve taken everything to dodge the unending mix of glass and spear. Eres could see his kingly Glite becoming seared from the heat. He wasn’t going to make it either, was he? They should never have left that room. They should have waited it out, even if the Imperion’s allies showed. Anything was better than fighting this. He would have chosen a hundred KQ terrorists over this. A thousand.
Wait. So KQ really is with Lasarius?
“Ah!”
Another fire spear seared Eres’ leg, reducing him to one knee.
“That Dawn will fall,” Lasarius told Seren. “And where do you think the esper will go? Accept your fate!”
The storm suddenly bolstered again, shoving Seren back against his will. It didn’t matter how much strength he had now, the opposing force was too powerful, too great.
“Accept death!”
And just then, all of the glass fell to the floor, shattering all around them. The wind ceased so abruptly that Seren and Eres fell forward from the momentum of fighting so hard against it. Vision went black.
Am I dead?
The answer came in the form of another voice.
“A Sorcerer who underestimates the power of Reach is nothing more than a fool.”
Eres couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Shivers ran down his back immediately, goosebumps lining his arms and legs. Could that voice really be Proctor Wudon’s?
“You,” was all Lasarius could say before the lights were flickering from ghouls crawling over them. They were here again, the demons that Eres had seen back in his Skrol Trials, transcending Gushda in the same fashion as Lasarius was.
“Yes. Me.”
“How?”
“A connection that you forgot to sever, traitor. One exceptional student was all it took. I hung onto his Reach footprint throughout all of your torture… I guided him here using my voice. And now, Lasarius, I am unleashed.”
Eres looked around frantically, eyes adjusting within strange haze. It felt like he’d fallen into some sort of medium between Rudo and Gushda. Seren and Lasarius were both strangely illuminated with auras around their bodies, their armor and robes more vibrant than before.
What is happening? Where am I?
He tried to stand but the wounds began to ache even worse than before, which meant he was still connected to his body in Rudo.
To his right, something evoked another wave of awe. It was the most welcomed sight he’d ever experienced in his entire life. Wukaldred Donn - Wudon - standing tall, robes of pitch black unfurled to the floor, one eye as deathly as he remembered. He was judging the Imperion scornfully with Crow and Windel at his heels.
Yes. The voice in Crow’s head was Wudon’s this whole time. It was an ally. And Windel - he analyzed her bloodied face - she’s okay.
Eres exhaled a sigh of relief that removed about a thousand pounds of metaphorical weight. “Right,” he told himself, getting to his feet, “now we can end this.”
He scanned his surroundings quickly. What else was different? Crow, his Glite was off. Why?
Seren drew his double-sided Crule blade with eyes only on Lasarius. He knew who was behind him, he knew the voice just as well as any - it was his second rival to Agden, and his old friend. He didn’t have to look.
“All of this time, Seren,” Wudon said, his voice crackling with vibration under their feet, “to think you could have been right.”
Eres was speechless after receiving confirmation of the worst kind. His father was wrong. Agden Way, the most talented boundless Skrol and Reacher to touch the spheres in centuries, was wrong.
Seren finally retracted the Glite mask and turned his head to see his old friend. He only nodded in return. Acknowledgement to put a very long, hard, destructive past behind them to fight a common enemy.
Lasarius drew two blood blades from within his robes. “You may have stopped the storm, Wukaldred, but you can never stop me. I was trained by the master himself!”
“As was I.” Wudon fired back.
Seren lunged with his spinning blade en route to slice open those robes, whatever Glite lay beneath, and the heart beneath that.
Eres heard footsteps all around him, but no bodies to accompany them. They sounded heavily armored, Kovella’s Quittance if he had to guess. But why couldn’t he see them? Was this some kind of shroud that Wudon possessed?
“And do not forget… I am the wielder of Dumos.”
Wudon flung Crow’s Glite disc from behind his back, twisted his hand, and watched it bloom with Reach-filled elements.
Clash. Lasarius parried both sides of Seren’s blade, jumped over another spinning slash aimed for his legs, and side-flipped out of a lunge. Then it was his turn – a summoning quick as lightning – spears of hellfire aimed right for Seren’s heart instead exploded into flames on Wudon’s Reach-made shield.
Wudon’s cloak fluttered as he threw uppercuts in place, as vines snapped from the floor to whip the Imperion.
That’s it. My opening!
Eres used his impeller to burst high into the dark air only to descend on a steep angle, Crule refilled and ready. He cut
the floor – a miss – then spun with the torque of a machine to slice Lasarius in two. Whoosh. Nothing but air and cloth. Lasarius’ robes were tattered, pieces floating down toward the floor until they were swiftly carried in Eres’ wake as he dashed forward to follow up.
The next cuts were wild and wide. He slashed with so little grace and so much passion that he lost balance every time he missed. One, two - he nearly fell forward, but caught himself and spun. Three!
His sword looked like it multiplied in this blurred reality, imprints of his swings overlapping and dissipating a little bit slower than usual. They must’ve crossed into Wudon’s shadow realm. But there was no time to think about to it. Too much at stake. His last attack began with arms overhead and ended with a downward strike. But the move was too telegraphed, too obvious.
Oh no... he thought.
He missed, and was punished for it. A hard knee immediately knocked the wind out of him, leaving him curled over with his back exposed. And just when Lasarius’ dagger was lit to dig a hole in his spine, a flattened tree grew over Eres in fast forward to protect him.
Crow.
Eres looked over his shoulder in awe, the one he loathed, the one he would’ve tossed into the ocean at the Colliding Spheres, had stepped in for him again. With a clenched jaw he accepted this gift by waving away the crumbling bark and going right back at it. Then beside him entered another shadow. It was Seren weaving in between Eres’ strikes to deliver his own. How could Lasarius keep up, four against one? No, five!
Windel skated from the back, rounding to make her mark.
That’s when both of Lasarius’ blades flashed Crule as he whirled into an unconceivable blur.
Eres reacted to meet Crule on Crule, Seren did too, but Windel’s dagger was cut in two. Then a spinning crescent kick found her face to send her flying. It was incomprehensible how fast he was moving. Some assassin technique for sure. And if that wasn’t enough, within the same motion he fanned out both hands to set all of the Reach vines ablaze.
Just like that, Lasarius reduced the fight to two versus one once more. Though as soon as he landed triumphantly, Seren was already diving forward, double-sided blade held outward, leaving Lasarius with only one option: use his incredible strength to lean all the way back. The bottom blade traced his torso, inch by inch, just missing his face.
