Even being born a mage of a higher school, like Roa had been, wasn’t a guarantee of salvation if said mage had next to no actual power, which was Roa’s situation. Ludus was far too rough a world to waste resources on anything less than a guarantee, a fact that made a man like Meas even more of an anomaly.
Most would never raise a finger to aid those around them and yet Meas had done it his whole life, always giving the orphanage more funds to help out and even giving the kids a home after they grew up, letting them join his mercenary group, “Swords and Sins.” He’d even paid for a tutor to teach Roa some basics to control her magic. Novaroa had wanted to be just as kind and strong as Meas, a lofty goal considering his ‘Bonded might and the fact Ludus was not kind to dreams.
The day Novaroa had first witnessed Meas in a real battle was a strong memory for her. One of the older girls had landed on the wrong side of one of the back-alley street gangs. Meas had heard the commotion and seeing the gang advancing on the sobbing girl, had rushed in, taking on over a dozen gangers in the confined space. At the time, Roa had been terrified he’d get his head caved in, but instead, with every swing of their clubs the gangers found their weapons being broken on the hard points of his body. Elbows, forearms, shoulders, and shins were always in the right place at the right time to take the blows and his imposing size and strength made their crushing attacks seem like nothing. Meas was a strength-type orb-Bonded and he knew how to use it. His time in the Berber Army had taught him a lot about fighting and he’d been a natural at reading his opponents even before the Army training.
Before the gangers could even regroup, Meas had already disarmed them and put them down. An absent kick here and a jab there took the last of the fight out of the dozen-strong fighting force, now all reduced to a pile of bloody, broken bodies, no longer a threat to the girl they’d tried to target.
That memory of the way Meas had used his seemingly untouchable strength was exactly why, years later, she’d frozen earlier under the blood-red sky, surrounded by the echoes of screams that consumed the capital of Berber.
When the cultist and the demons had attacked, it’d been completely unexpected and utterly terrifying. Roa had thrown on serviceable clothing, her weapons, and had pounded outside to help her friends even as part of her mind had quietly been in denial.
The first few true-demons had been wrong, twisted, alien, but Meas and his friend had been able to dispatch them without too much trouble as they'd formed a loose perimeter. However, the distant sound of the main horde had grown closer, and eventually a mass of true-demons had reached the square. This moment had been when the battle had begun in earnest.
After witnessing Meas' might firsthand in the past, watching him stand without a single shudder before some of the worst people Roa had thought humanity could offer, she'd believed him invincible. That cozy faith had shattered the moment she'd first seen fear in his eyes.
“Roa, get the other children out the back!” Meas had shouted. He and his crew had formed a tight line of battle at the boundary wall of the orphanage’s front yard. “Move it!” he'd ordered.
Roa’s teenaged fingers had trembled along with the rest of her, causing her bow’s aim to drop, her body locked in fear at the sight of the scaly hides of the true-demons just beyond the wall. How or why Mensk had come under attack hadn’t mattered as much as the three monsters barreling into the huge shield Meas held to close the gap. Roa had stood staring in numb disbelief as the force of the creatures’ attack almost sent the ‘Bonded man stumbling back. Any normal person would have been overrun by even one of these foes, but Meas held his ground with a grunt of effort.
The strain and effort the move had taken had been obvious in Meas’ body language, though. To see him struggle had made Roa shudder, and a feeling like ice had run through her veins. One demon that looked like a bear with the mid and hindquarters of a scorpion all covered in plates, had grabbed a woman from the line and pulled her off her feet. With a guttural, roaring hiss, it had tossed her shrieking form behind it into the mass of other true-demons waiting their turn to attack the wall. “Fuck! Jonna!” Roa had heard someone yell, but she couldn’t place the voice in the unrelenting noise of battle.
Biting her tongue, Roa had grabbed one of her arrows and took aim again, trying to fight through her fear. The tip of her arrow had swayed drunkenly as she prepared to fire. She wasn’t a master archer by any means, however she wasn’t a complete amateur, either. Taking as careful aim at the bear thing’s face as her ragged breathing would allow, she’d drawn back the bowstring. When she’d loosed, the arrow had glanced right off the leathery skin of its jowls. “Rot!” She’d hissed in frustration, already reaching for another arrow.
Back at the gap in the wall, Meas hadn’t been out of the fight yet, not hardly, and with a grimace and grunt of effort his shield had snapped forward, taking the creature’s jaw off. Despite his efforts, however, the line around him had been pushed further and further back into the yard. Demons had been pouring over the walls to try flanking the ever-tightening circle of adventurers, forcing them back toward the entrance.
Meas had yelled, “Roa! Rot it all, get the kids out! We’ve got this!”
Again, she’d ignored his desperate pleas. Instead, she’d notched another arrow and taken aim, this time at the largest demon by far, a multi-segmented worm thing with lobster-like claws for each body section. The nightmarish creature’s claws had already cut down the merc on Meas’ right, mowing down a few of its fellow demons, too.
Drawing back her bowstring with more determination, Novaroa had focused her power into a concentrated point and…pushed it into the arrow. The shot took off with a crack as it accelerated to the speed of an air rifle round, and the impact had staggered the creature. Even so, despite the combined assault of the mercenaries and Roa’s arrow, the true-demon hadn’t gone down.
Roa had drawn her blow again, a high note of fear escaping her throat as she’d poured her magic into another arrow. She’d loosed, and despite hitting the creature dead on at the same point as her last attack, the arrow had simply shattered against its armored hide. Her two empowered shots had taken most of her magic power and had accomplished almost nothing. Horrified, Roa trembled as the creature had resumed its attack. She’d desperately called out to her mentor. “Meas, watc—!”
The large ‘Bonded man had choked off a scream as the pincers and the demon’s jaws had bit deep into his shield arm. Gritting his teeth, Meas had brought his enchanted bronze blade down through the creature’s skull, killing it before shoving its corpse to the ground. Then his shield arm had finally dropped, leaving the gate unobstructed. He’d breathed heavily, fighting through the pain, and had moved his blade into a defensive position, giving one final bellowed order, “Fall back!”
***
Novaroa grit her teeth, jarring herself back to the present. Meas would have been furious about her lack of focus. She had to keep the children moving; they’d already managed to cross the attic and creep down the hall to the far side of the building, heading to the highest landing that had a window to the rooftops. Roa turned to the children, held a finger to her lips and barely breathed out, “Shhh, keep going!” After issuing the warning, she moved to the rear, silently willing the children to stay silent and move faster.
She held a toddler close, doing her best to keep the increasingly panicked children from crying out. They had evaded the psychotic bitch cultist until now, but Roa could almost feel that their luck wouldn’t last. The ground floor was probably still host to more than a few demons, who knew how many cultists, and Roa only had three arrows left in her quiver. Freedom seemed impossibly far away.
As the group finally began the climb to the half stairwell at the top rear of the building, Roa handed the toddler off to a thirteen-year-old boy named Kart. He was the oldest child in the group, and accepted the young girl with a grim determination, skinny arms wrapping protectively around her. The group was actually in Roa’s living space now. She pointed to
the window to the side of the small bedroom, hissing, “There, climb out onto the roof and stay down!”
The terrified orphans did as they were told and began lining up to climb out the window. Roa’s heart ached at the realization of how few she’d managed to save. Viciously, she blinked back tears, scrubbing her hands angrily over her face, then suddenly froze. She thought she’d heard a low humming from the hall behind her. If her ears weren’t playing tricks on her, the murderer was getting closer, and Roa didn’t have much time left.
She had to think fast.
Her eyes darted around the room before landing on her dresser and she decided to take a calculated risk. Rushing over, she heaved the furniture toward the doorway, working as the children continued to file out the window. Her arms shook as she struggled with the thick, heavy wood. Roa was forced to rock the dresser loudly onto its corners to move it into place, and the noise made her cringe. The pounding echoed and she knew it would not go unnoticed.
As if she could read Roa’s mind, the murderous woman spoke loudly, her snide voice drifting up the stairs. “Oh my, what noise! Are you even trying to hide anymore?” The bitch’s tone held a note of twisted pleasure.
Heart full of hate and resignation, Roa moved into place in the doorway, drawing her bow from her shoulder. She peeked out and her blood ran cold. Standing at the bottom of the landing was a slight woman in black and purple robes. The evil woman fidgeted with a long, blood-covered dagger in her right hand and pretended to ignore Roa, casually wiping her weapon against her robes.
Enraged, Roa drew an arrow and nocked it in one smooth motion, then loosed at the woman.
The witch didn’t even flinch.
Roa’s arrow swerved as if caught by a high wind and thudded harmlessly into the floor. “That’s twice you’ve shot at me to no avail. Third time’s the charm they say, go on, try again.” The woman mocked Roa, even making a little “come here” motion with the tip of her dagger.
Arrows obviously didn’t work, but there was no way Roa was going to give up. She responded by snarling, tossing her bow behind her into her room, and heaving the heavy dresser through the doorway to tumble down the stairs. The moment the heavy furniture was in motion, she didn’t wait around to see the result. Instead, she slammed the door closed and threw the latch before stooping to retrieve her bow, bolting out the window. Roa grabbed Ahlija by the waist and hoisted the girl with her. All the other children had already filed onto the roof, shuffling along the cracked and worn tiles toward escape.
“Keep moving, don’t stop!” Roa called out. She practically dragged the hesitating Ahlija with her. Once she was outside the building, she took in the surrounding city with a quick glance.
It’d been over an hour since she’d last seen the outside world, and the hell that had come to Mensk still shrouded the cityscape. Given a moment to take the sight in, she noticed that the red sky was slowly losing its hue and the lightning that had assailed the palace had ebbed. The brilliant blue dome around the structure still held firm, the Ritual of the Crown clearly still in effect. Echoing sounds in the distance, howls of demons and humans mixed, a swelling cacophony of pain and violence, underscored the view. Despite all that noise, the soft sound of a door handle being turned still managed to pierce Roa’s heart far more than the deafening war around her.
Her fair hair had partially fallen out of the tie she had thrown it into, and curls whipped about as she focused through the window, just in time to see the door begin to shudder. Sucking in a panicked breath, she waved the children further along before trying to slam the window shut. Unfortunately before she could finish, the door gave way and burst across the room in a shower of splinters.
Roa watched in horror as the dark-robed woman stepped clearly into the room, bloody knife still held firmly in her hand. For the first time, Roa clearly saw the woman’s sharply angled face, complete with a bleeding gash from her right eye to her left cheek, carving deeply into her nose. When their eyes finally met, Roa heard a chime ring out in her head, and text scrolled across her left eye:
Gentra Korezy
Ludan, Berban
Dolos Orb; Specialist Type
Second Rank
The final line told her all she needed to know about this witch, explaining exactly how she’d managed to defeat the best of the Swords and Sins earlier like nothing.
“Second rank?” Roa’s voice was barely a hoarse whisper, but the woman, Gentra, seemed to have heard it just fine.
“Yep. Sorry, but you and those poor children never really had a chance.” With a weightless sort of grace, Gentra advanced as Roa fell back from the doorway, her training aiding her in drawing her bow again even as a clammy sweat flooded down her back.
Just Another Life on Ludus, Chapter Two
After the true-demons had breached the wall, the orphanage defenders had fallen back into the building. Novaroa stood with them. Her bow twanged as she sent another arrow through the doorway and into the night.
“Roa, for the last rotting time, get moving!” Meas barked as he took up a position on the right of the entryway. This was so he could get a full swing on any demons that crawled in. Thankfully the larger demons didn’t even try to breach the building, content enough with the easy prey outside, so only the smaller beasts were bursting through the front door and windows now.
“I’m not leaving you lot here to fend for yourselves!” Roa’s shoulders flexed as she tried to shrug her exhaustion away. “We’ve held them for hours now, we can hold them longer!” With such a strong choke point, they had a chance.
The entryway was their best place for a last stand, being a solid doorway with an open room. There weren’t many obstructions other than a few chairs, a table, and four handspan-wide wooden columns holding the landing above.
“Oh, do you think you can?” asked a soft, curious voice. An unfamiliar female form in black and purple hooded robes smoothly dropped through a window to the side of the entryway. In the middle of an attack by true-demons, the sight was surreal, and all the defenders immediately focused on her. The speaker practically radiated evil and menace.
Lorili, the closest Merc to the woman and one of the Swords and Sins’ most senior members, didn’t hesitate to attack the unknown figure. She rushed the woman, her bronze spear flashing forward, but the tip imbedded into the wall next to her target as Lorili lost her balance and toppled over. As she fell, an arterial mist of blood poured from her nearly severed neck. Everything had happened in an eyeblink, but somehow, the mysterious intruder hadn’t gotten a spot on her. “That was rather rude.”
Donovan and Kallei yelled and nearly rushed in after Lorili fell, but Meas barked, “Stop!” Then he turned to the robed woman. “You’re one to talk about being rude. I take it you’re one of those cultist bitches?”
“You could tell?” A pale hand gestured to the robes as if they were a sign.
“Seems pretty rotting obvious,” was Meas’ bitten-off reply.
“Brains and brawn, pity you’ve caught me in a mood. Watching you and your people fight all night has got me really feeling the hunt.” The tip of her tongue snaked across her lips, as if savoring the prospects before her.
The casual banter between the two was a tactic, a play for time, at least for Meas. He circled to stand between the woman and the stairwell where Roa still held her ground, but whose fingers were numb from gripping her bow too tightly. She couldn’t make out the woman’s face but hadn’t seen a ‘Bonded notice across her left eye.
The cultist had seen Meas’, though. “Your name is Meas, huh? Strengthening orb? Bit basic isn’t it?” The woman sneered.
Without warning, Meas snapped his arm forward, hitting a nearby chair with the flat of his sword, sending it careening at his opponent. The woman didn’t move a step as her hand whipped out, and the motion was followed by a wave of air that shoved the chair aside. She grinned and drew a wicked-looking blessed steel dagger.
Roa cursed under her breath, “She’s a rotting wind m
age!”
Kallei and Donovan didn’t need prompting to make their moves, both swinging hard from the woman’s flanks. Fair play was for tournaments and games, war was about killing, and Meas’ senior members were more than willing to use numbers to their advantage.
As the two attacked, the dark-clad woman flowed around Don’s mace and Kallei's blade like a dancer. The duo didn’t slow their attacks, just continued to press her. Kallei and Donovan worked well together, in sync through long practice and countless fights together. If she went high, he went low, and their blessed steel weapons flashed again and again.
Without realizing it, Roa had relaxed her shoulders slightly, no longer as worried about her role in this fight, knowing full well that she wasn’t at a level to help these two. They were a married couple, highly experienced, and the two most senior members of the group after Meas. Powerful and swift, both of them alone were a threat, but their teamwork was a sight to behold and made them a true force on the field. Even Meas didn’t move to intercede, instead moving to cover their flank should any more demons attack. Strangely, since the cultist had dropped into the room, none had. She seemed to have some way to keep them away from her.
For that matter it seemed like she had a way to keep her attackers away as well. Every time Kallei’s broadsword slashed, a tiny gust of wind would deflect its path. The dark robes slipped away, never offering any openings for swinging sword or shining mace.
No amount of wind was going to deflect those swings, but it seemed as if the woman had an unearthly grace about her like she was in a perpetual freefall, the edges of her robe fluttering sharply here and there. However it wasn’t until Roa got a look at the two mercs’ faces that she understood the full extent of what she was seeing; Donovan and Kallei were losing. Donovan’s square, stubbled jaw was tense and Kallei’s teeth were bared in frustration. Meanwhile, from what Roa could see of the cultist’s face, she was wearing an easy grin.
Delvers LLC- Surviving Ludus Page 30
