At this point, she could have searched Dosh's pockets for a key, but her pride demanded that she escape all the way on her own skills. Besides, he might not have the key on him anyway. She unstrapped the kitten heels she had borrowed from Mia and kicked them off. Instead of slipping her ankles free, she tried picking the lock with a tool Sathel told her to carry at all times. On this occasion, it was stuck into her bodice near her waist. The lock clicked and she stretched her legs. Finally, she stood to face her former captor, now paralyzed like she was earlier.
"My, how the tables have turned."
First, she twisted the thumb on his right hand until he dropped his staff. Then she attached one cuff to his right wrist and maneuvered it around his back along with his left. Even with Third Eye, it was difficult to cuff the left one. She would have turned him around, but she was afraid of releasing him. Unlike him, she was not going to take unnecessary risks.
"Do you know why this is happening?" she asked. "You had me right where you wanted me and yet here you are now."
She wrapped the connecting chain around his waist once and secured it.
"You may think I'm trash because I grew up on the streets, but it made me strong. I persevere, I adapt, and I survive. I make myself the best I can be, every day, because I might not see the next day if I don't. You, on the other hand, are a tent."
She pushed him to the ground and pulled the connecting chain forward. The ankle cuffs were still attached to it and she secured them to his ankles. She folded his legs and pulled out the chain's slack.
"You are pampered, and as the baby of the family, spoiled as well. Yet you consider yourself the unfavorite. Your rivalry with Tenderfoot is little more than a temper tantrum."
Rage built within Dosh. As consciousness left him due to oxygen deprivation, he gathered it together with his indignation and shame. Then he shot it at Tiza with all his might. She shrugged it off. All it did was give her goose bumps.
"Your Evil Eye doesn't work on me. It's too immature. It lacks true hatred and true fear. It is nothing but self-righteous entitlement."
She forced his mouth open and wedged the ball gag inside. When she clipped it shut, she pulled it as tight as possible. Then she dangled the hood in front of him.
"You're already wearing one of these, but why not go all the way?"
She put it on his crown, paused to consider, and stopped.
"Now if only I had a marker, I could write 'dunce' across this thing."
Only now did she search his pockets. She turned her back on him, but her Evil Third Eye was still in full effect. He didn't have the cuff keys after all, but she did find the key to the exit. After collecting her heels, she opened the door.
Nolien was on the other side.
"Tenderfoot! What are you...?” Noting his expression, she said, "Don't worry. There's no damsel in distress here."
“Wonderful.” The word was an exhale of relief. Then he looked past her and asked, “Then what's that in there?"
"An idiot."
Nolien chuckled and strolled in. "What's that Mom and Dad always tell us about achievement? Oh yes, 'pride before the fall.'"
Dosh didn't react. He poked Dosh's head and he didn't react. He placed his ear to Dosh's chest and he didn't hear a heartbeat.
"Tiza, what did you do?"
"I used Evil Eye to freeze him while I escaped the cuffs he's currently wearing. Technically, I'm still using it now."
"Evil Eye can stop the lungs!"
Tiza clapped her hands to her cheeks. "Oh no! There's one less asshole in the world!"
"Tiza! He may be an asshole, but he's still my brother!"
“Fine."
She blinked to dismiss the Evil Eye and Nolien checked again. He breathed a sigh of relief to hear a slow but steady beat. Then he chanted Scanning Staff to check for any injuries Dosh might have. All this baffled Tiza.
"You know he tried to kidnap me, right?"
"Yes, and I'm furious about it, but it doesn't mean I'd resort to vigilante justice. However, if you were in trouble when I arrived..." He caught her eye. "…I'd do whatever it took to save you."
"Tenderfoot..." Then all of a sudden, she did a half turn and crossed her arms. "Words are cheap. I bet lots of guys say stuff like that to impress girls.”
In the Royal Mage Tower, Sequitor felt the drop in orderly power instantly. Unlike Dosh, he didn’t worry because he truly didn’t need to. He was a greater mage on the verge of becoming a sage. He could teleport on his own, and now that he had his bladi samples, he would do so.
“Chief Bladi, I’m aware that you don’t approve of my work and I respect your dedication to your values. However, I still recommend pushing boundaries in regards to Zettai. If you don’t, you will lose her, just like I lost my Pluma.”
With that, he ascended the back stairs to the top of his former tower. There a teleportation arch was waiting for him. A few moments at the console was all he needed to disappear from Roalt.
Outside Royal Town and the curtain wall, Eric snarled at the crowd and lunged forward to swipe with the right hand of the grendel. Turning on a dime, he tried to bite the arm off someone who strayed too close without backup. His sister pulled him back just in time and held Eric at bay with a Flame Wave. Then someone else threw a Bolt of Judgment from his blindside.
He utilized the full range of his grendel body’s physical strength and his own spiritual power, but anything less than an instantly fatal wound was healed by the many mages in the group. He had yet to retrieve his staff because they blocked his access to it. They kept him corralled in a circle.
Despite the many threats in the area, Eric had only killed one of them so far. The general competence of the royal guards, outlaws, and civilians was such that, together, they made an effective fighting force. The sole fatality was due to an oversight that the guards made sure they did not repeat.
While the woman lay dying, Suriel contracted the woman into becoming a sower like herself. Then she stuck her tongue out at Samael, who was too slow on the uptake.
“If Eric Watley loses himself to his monster instincts, then he’ll contract with you. There’s no reason you can’t enforce that wager here and now.”
“That’s a good point. Without his elf girl to keep him in check, there’s nothing to stop his monster instincts from taking over completely.”
Eric stomped the ground to create a shockwave and knock several fighters off their feet, only to be discouraged from crushing them by archers from rooftops. The arrows couldn’t kill them; even if they could pierce his skin, the Seed of Chaos would mend the damage, but they still distracted him. He roared at the annoyance and then licked his lips at the thought of eating them, which led to him eating the arrows they shot at him. This included the poison ones.
“This is not the picture of a demon fighting superior numbers,” Samael continued. “This is a monster cornered by an adventurer party. Soon they will kill him like any other and I will have Reno Grade’s replacement.”
Am I a mercenary or a monster? Kill for food; kill for food; kill for food.
Eric stopped. His mind and spirit had finally fully recovered, and the first thing that came to mind was the poem. Nunnal taught to Kallen and Kallen taught it to him. With clear and focused eyes, he looked around at the attacking warriors in amazement.
“What have I been doing? I killed someone. Kas-Kallen is going to be upset. It’s all that troll’s fault. It’s a good thing I blew him up.”
“Why’s he talking to himself?” one warrior with a sword asked.
“Monster, duh,” one of the archers replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it started singing.”
“I know I know!" a healer said. "He must be talking with his spirit advisor, which is telling him to follow the righteous path while undergoing a split personality takeover. He’s not really fighting us as much he’s acting out a free-for-all inside his mind and spirit!”
“That is patently absurd,” said a mage. “The planes of the etherea
l and physical are separate in such a way that the carry-over of bodily motion is impossible. Only a child; nay, not even a child would believe such a thing.”
“Screw it! Let’s just kill the thing!” said a cat beastfolk with an axe
A bearded human man nodded but said nothing.
Eric, still in grendel form, knelt and put his hands on his head.
“I apologize for my aggression. I was attacked by someone and he said things that angered me. I did not mean to attack any of you.”
“Okay, that counts as a surprise,” said the archer.
“Bubble of Uranus!” the mage chanted. “Gaia’s Jail!”
A bubble made from wind currents formed around Eric and created a containment field. This was followed by prison bars arising from the ground and then expanding horizontally to create the cell’s ceiling.
“Now that the beast has been contained, I recommend that we continue our journey.”
“Yes. We finished our side quest, so we’re done here,” said the swordsman.
Roalt was peaceful again. There were a few monster stranglers, but it was nothing the royal guard (or the servants) couldn’t handle. Kasile, however, was not ready to rest easy just yet and sent her servants scattering to find any lingering problems. The Summit was not over.
She put a hand to her forehead. Now that the battle was over, adrenaline was leaving her system. She was feeling weaker by second.
“Fairtheora, you are in charge for the next hour. You may act with my authority for sixty minutes. At that time, you lose my authority and you must report to me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I will not let you down.”
“Siron.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“I’m about to faint. Take me to—”
Now only did Siron catch her, he had a cloak ready. When she lost consciousness, her fire clothing disappeared, but no one save him saw anything. With his queen bundled up, he carried her out of the courtyard. An anxious Ponix stopped him from reaching her room.
“I can’t find either of my daughters!” he screamed at the sleeping Kasile.
“Ambassador Ponix, the queen is sleeping,” Siron said with forced politeness.
“But I can’t find either of my daughters!”
“Talk to Fairtheora.” Siron jerked his head in the sentinel’s direction. “He’s in charge right now.”
The elf man grew cheetah legs and ran straight into the orc. He bounced off like a rubber ball slamming into a steel wall. With, in Fairtheora’s opinion, shameful panic on his face, he exclaimed for the third time in one minute, “I can’t find either of my daughters!”
“I’ve heard.” He tapped a scry and said, “Calling all units, this is Fairtheora Lawkeeper, Royal Sentinel and temporary Royal Champion. Ambassador Ponix is unable to find Kallen or Annala Enaz. Does anyone have any knowledge of their whereabouts?”
He listened to the feed as reports came in from all sectors of the castle. Ponix tapped his feet, patted his knees, cracked his neck, and stuck his tongue in and out. The orc shook his head at the elf’s strange behavior. Having received the information that he required, he then spoke with the necessary search groups, departments, and offices to accomplish the needed task. Then he said, “I have good news, Ambassador. Kallen was spotted in the airship dome shortly after the obelisk was destroyed. I have someone confirming that she’s in Albatross IX right now.”
“Great! What about Annala!?”
“Also good news. She’s being dragged through Southern Ataidar by Nulso Xialin.”
Ponix assumed his giant head form and bellowed, “HOW IS THAT GOOD NEWS?”
Fairtheora was indifferent. “We know where she is, and it is within Ataidar’s territory. The Royal Ordercraft Security and Compliance team is boarding a high-speed craft as we speak.”
In the plains south of Roalt, a dot of otherworldly nature appeared. It changed into a ring and then expanded into an opening sixth feet in diameter. It was stable and geometrically perfect, yet the surrounding area protested its eldritch presence. The border between the ring of ordercraft and general reality flickered golden-brown. Nulso stepped through this ring and set foot on the snowy ground.
In that instant, he lost the boost from the Order Obelisk. All that extra power vanished and, along with it, the additional control it forced on him. He was able to feel and reason on his own again, and that terrified him. All around him was a hostile landscape; merciless in its constant change and ruthless in its power output. Laws and understanding were held as whims of gods lacking both empathy and sympathy. There was nothing to grab and nothing to hold on to. Having briefly known the security of Order, he longed to go back to it.
Once he set both feet in the snow, he yanked Annala through by the leash.
She stumbled and fell face first into the snow. As soon as she left the Order Domination Field’s influence, the Subjugation Collar’s higher functions deactivated. Her eyes cleared, and she shook her head and realized what happened. Her hands flew to her neck and tried to pry the collar off. She gave up after five seconds. Subjugation Collars rendered helpless elven soldiers and clergy; they could not be removed by a powerless apostate. She dropped her hands and looked up at Nulso defiantly.
“You won’t get away with this!”
Nulso spun around and Annala gasped. Nulso’s face was so shrunken that his bones were clearly visible and his skin was so pale that his veins and nerves bulged against it. Some of them had burst and dripped blood down his cheeks, pooling with the blood from his nose. Ripped skin hung around his eyes and mouth near the muscles. He bore a closer resemblance to a corpse than a living person, but what scared her the most were the eyes.
All the original coloring was gone from his pupils and replaced with solid silver-grey. The whites were choked by blood veins on the verge of bursting like those on his face. The iris shined with the eldritch light of Order and evoked all its parasitic greed as the order constructs he generated.
“Nothing can escape the All-Controlling-Hand.” He tugged the leash and Annala unwillingly stepped forward. “My hand!” He spun back around and shouted, “Soon we’ll reach the border and…!”
The tightening of his own collar cut him off and he gasped for breath. He fell to one knee as he went into power loss withdrawal. His body could no longer support its own weight. On all fours, he gasped and shuddered.
Annala marched over to him and jammed her heel into his butt crack. He promptly face-planted into the snow. His grip loosened in shock and Annala pulled her solid leash free of it.
“You should have accepted my help!”
With that, she turned tail and ran north as fast as she could. Before she crossed three yards, the Subjugation Collar tightened. The sudden force yanked her off her feet and onto her back. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Nulso was leering at her. In his hands was a leash of otherworldly non-light.
“You can’t escape me, Golden Hair. You belong to me now. Body, mind, and soul; you’re my property!”
“Blasphemy and hypocrisy! Lady Chaos abhors slavery and it has been illegal in this country for five hundred years!”
With great effort, Nulso stood up. He yanked the collar, but Annala refused to budge. He commanded her to stand and, despite her resistance, she did. Her body moved on its own. The look of naked horror on her face was balm to Nulso’s tormented spirit. It had all come to this moment; the first step of his revenge.
His lips pulled back in a sneer and revealed teeth like a dentist’s model; more plaster than flesh or calcium. He made the Sign of Order over his face and said, “Subjugation Collar Model #548231554821 with modification codename ‘Witch Enaz Hasina,’ initiate special command: Excommunication!”
A new series of runes came to life on Annala’s collar. They dug deep into her body, down to the genetic level, and found the path to the Seed of Chaos given to her by her mother when she was conceived in the womb. The runic power of ordercraft erected a metaphorical cube around this seed an
d tightened.
Annala’s breath caught in her throat and she felt a sudden surge of weakness. Her legs would have folded underneath her if not for Nulso’s control. Instead, she stood limply upright by the pressure on her neck. It was similar to being hung. When she could breathe again, Nulso pointed to his hair. She followed his glance and found a strand of her own hair that was different from the others. Its color had changed; it was now as white as the snow.
She couldn’t believe it. Her mind simply couldn’t process it. A strand of hair on her head without the rich color of chaos was unthinkable. It was impossible! Her breath came quick and shallow as old fears returned. A profound sense of despair settled into her mind and the collar reinforced it. Nulso beckoned and she mindlessly obeyed.
“Kneel.”
She complied.
Nulso’s hand descended to her hair and both of them glowed their respective color. Golden-brown sparks zapped Nulso’s hand and burned his fingers, but he ignored the pain and focused on draining the chaotic power within. Slowly and with great resistance, the energy of creation flowed up Nulso’s hand, through his body, and to his personal mana supply.
“By the time this process is complete, I will have all the power I need for another jump. When you wake up, you will be in Latrot, you will be my slave, and you will love it!”
The roar of an engine startled Nulso out of his energy drain and he noticed the dark shadow covering him in all directions. From the airship above dropped five feminine figures in silver-grey armor. They landed in a box around him with the fifth directly across from him. Raising their right hands, they trapped him in an Order Suppression Field.
"Nulso Xialin A.K.A. Harry Butchin,” Kimberly said. “By the power vested in me by Her Majesty, Queen Kasile Landros Ataidar the Seventh of Ataidar, you are hereby placed under arrest for the following crimes: assault, battery, kidnapping, obstruction of an international diplomatic meeting, sedition, smuggling ordercraft contrabands across the border, sexual assault, summoning monsters, theft of holy relics, and trespassing. You have the right to remain silent, the right to an attorney, and the right to a speedy trial. Please come quietly or we will use force. Do you understand your accusations and rights as I have recited them to you?"
Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3) Page 30
