Draconic Testament

by Zac Atie

  ”Alright, so go help the wounded. I'm sure they’ll be overthrown with joy when they realize a woman with as many titles as you is helping them.” Bastion said.

  ”Humph.” she huffed. “Come.” She said, as she led him back to the gate. She climbs through, and Bastion follows her. “I want you to have this.” Veronica said, as she rummages through the bags that Bastion dropped at the gate. “What is it?” Bastion asked, and she brings out a bin liner. She hands it to him, and straight away he could tell something was inside. It was about as big as a sword, but nowhere near as heavy. As he took it, and felt it, he knew exactly what it was. “Don’t tell me…” Bastion began, as he opened the bin liner. As he suspected, there was an Arcana inside. “Where did you get this?” Bastion asked.

  ”The Assembly hall, of course. I figured, although it has happened once before, there really isn’t a high chance of coming across another Arcana. Have it, it will keep you safe.” Veronica said.

  ”I don’t suppose you care much about being a Kinslayer, do you?” Bastion asked.

  ”Not as much as I care about being a Warlock, no…” Veronica said.

  ”Don’t say that… you’re hardly evil.” Bastion said.

  ”After what I was saying before, you’d say that?” Veronica asked, playing with her fringe.

  ”Of course. You’re just being stubborn, I'm sure you’ll want to help the second you see people in pain.” Bastion said.

  ”Whatever.” Veronica said. “Hopefully, you’ll find something that will tear away the blinders from your eyes.”

  “There’s no need to be like that.” Bastion huffed.

  “Oh, but there is, Bastion. And I’m sure you’ll find your damn need down there in the depths.” Veronica scowled, then she begrudgingly walked off to the tents where the insane cries of the infected emanated from without as much as a goodbye. Bastion was on his own again, sighing as he watched her leave, her perfect blonde hair swaying in her angry steps. When she left his sights, he forced himself to turn towards the direction of the graveyard, and then, he moved forward, through the tents of the foreign village.

  He passed the tents, heading toward the graveyards. He passed cries of pain, suffering, and sorrow. Some of the tents were open, and as he passed, he saw many things that shook him. He saw a child with a doctor by his side, rocking back and forth, sweating profusely, and murmuring inane insults to the ‘evildoers of the world’. The doctor was trying to comfort the boy, who constantly ignored his pleas. He saw a man, holding a baby in his arms, crying. This almost made Bastion stop, but he saw that the baby was fine, as it lifted it’s hand to the man’s face, touching his tears, making them run down it’s finger. The man whispers words of sorrow, such as ‘I'm sorry’ and, ‘I couldn’t protect her’. He saw a family in another tent, a little girl moaning that she wanted to go outside and play with her friends, and a mother who scolded her saying that it’s too dangerous, and not to dare disobey her. An old woman, sitting there cutting his arm, watching the blood dropping onto the floor. The screaming of a mother, over her son’s body. He was off in his own world, as he passed by the tents, witnessing such things. He was happy that even among people who were viewed as barbarians, he could still see that they were all, in fact, human. To a point, at least. They all had love, and affection. Positive emotions, that of love and concern. He knew not of what Veronica spoke of, that she would see how he would feel about the Blue Magi when they were done here. She was older than him, in fact, although she had been locked away for many years, only her mother to talk with her. She was ignorant of many things, and had a survivalist attitude, but was she correct about the Blue Magi? About those who would seize power over the humans of earth, and attack Cazria with all of their forces? Bastion remembered Veronica’s words from a month ago, before leaving with her to Korreal. She said that most Magi were not forces of mass destruction, and against humans, they’d likely be quickly wiped out. Was she talking about the Red Magi? Or both Red and Blue? What about the Seneschal, and those who bow to them?

  He was off in so much of a trance that he almost screamed with fright as a man grabbed his shoulder as he passed. He spun around defensively, clutching the bin liner that was rolled around the Arcana. He slid his hand inside, touching the hilt so he could effortlessly pull it out and cut his attacker if he saw any threat. Instead, he was greeted. “Easy der, kid.” A white haired man said. He looked extremely familiar.

  “I saw you at the gates, didn’t I?” Bastion asked. “You tried to stop them…”

  ”Yeah, ah did.” the man said. “Mah name’s Crix, F-“

  ”Father of Enlin’s bride to be. Yes, I remember you. Thank you for helping me” Bastion said.

  ”Hahaha! Ah man with manners!” Crix said. “Ya welcome, son. Yah just a kid, forgive mah pals, eh? They’re running round without der ‘eads at dah moment.” Crix says. He had a very deep voice, but a kind face. He didn’t look too old, so his hair was obviously dyed… or something. “Where’s your mask?” Bastion asked, noticing him being the odd one out.

  ”Fuck dah mask, I need mah fresh air, y’know?” Crix says, “Tired of living anyway.”

  “Right….So… what can I do for you?” Bastion asked.

  ”Yah going towards the caverns, aren’t yah?” Crix asked. “I wanted tah ask yah why.”

  ”Sorry, that’s confidential.” Bastion asked.

  ”Yah going inside! Hahaha! Let me come wit’ yah. I'm good wit a sword, an’ alright with magic!” Crix says. Bastion frowned, thinking about Stark’s orders. “Sorry, but I really can’t take you with me. I mean…” Bastion began, but was stopped. ”Yah were sent by dat useless oaf, Stark, aye?” Crix says, his brow arching into a thrown.

  ”Hey, he’s not that bad. Give him a break.” Bastion says.

  ”Ah know, ah know, but he’s awful at leadership, he is.” Crix says. “He’s too bound by dah code, he wants all us fighters tah stand about like civilians while our emperor dies, and prince goes on a suicide mission. Tah ‘ell wit dat. He won’t know, will he?”

  ”Well…” Bastion said. “I don’t...”

  “Mah Daughter is terrified. She’s out der, safe in dah camps outside, but I dun like knowing that the love of her life is missing, and possibly dead. I want to know what’s goin’ on, now.” Crix didn’t seem like a bad guy, but looks could be deceiving. He remembered Stark’s orders again, and Veronica’s words about how disgusting the Blue Magi were. Her words would likely be backed up by Yaevinn’s. But he thought both of them were wrong, and he wanted to prove it. “Alright…” He said.

  “Perfect!” Crix laughed, slapping his back. The two walked towards the graveyard, which was small, and headed towards the crypt. The Graveyard was next to the Moat, next to the wall of the Settlement. Here, he remembered he was people throwing things into the moat. This is what it was… dead bodies. He recoiled when he saw the men in protective clothing picking up the bodies of men, women and children, and tossing them into the moat. “What the hell? What are they doing?” Bastion asked.

  ”Oh yeah. 'ese lot are the victims of Tartarus. Damn dat Warlock and ‘er carriers. Killing innocents just to get away.” Crix says. Bastion remembers that Stark was talking about unnecessary and unauthorized executions. He looked at the children being tossed into the Moat, like cattle. ”Why are you tossing them into the moat? What’s the point of this?” Bastion asked, getting emotional.

  ”Becoz dah bodies are highly contagious still, even after death. Throwing them out of reach of our people, and soon, burning them.” Crix says, missing Bastion’s anger.

  ”It’s really that dangerous?” Bastion asked.

  ”Yeah… We didn’t know ‘ow to react at first… the first time we’ve ever ‘ad an incident like dis one. If we ‘din ‘ave our scholars, we’d ‘ave no idea what to do… I think dat Warlock was sent by someone…” Crix says.

  ”By whom?” Bastion asked.

  ”I don’t know.” Crix said. “Leaders of both Blue and Red Magi ‘av
e been killed, although ours is still kicking for now. Strange things have been ‘appening since dat Sanctum’s came back.”

  ”Sanctum?” Bastion asked, following Crix into the crypt. A simple lever was there, which Crix pulled once Bastion was inside with him, and it started descending. “Yes… Yes… I’ve been called crazy, and maybe I am, but it’s all too convenient. Sanctum comes ‘ere, ‘an things go to shit. Nah, somethin’s ‘appening.” Crix sighs. Bastion contemplates that. He doesn’t know all that much about what was going on before the portal was opened, and Sanctum certainly has made an impression on the Magi. Was it all Sanctum’s fault? “Anyway, call me ah ‘lil ‘ol perv for asking, but, what’s the deal wit you an that damsel out der?” Crix asked.

  ”Who, Veronica? Erm… Nothing.” Bastion said.

  ”No need to be shy. Come on! Man tah man!” Crix insists, pestering Bastion, and laughing as chunks of spit his Bastion’s face on the way down, smacking him on the back and creating lively Banter.

  Though the lively Banter stopped as the Caverns came in sight, and the familiar, unwelcome smell of rotting flesh came into range. It was awful, since the smell had no proper place to escape out of. He was getting tired of being around so many bodies. The area was like that of Korreal, likely the same architect, though it was much bigger. However, the lights were dim. He also felt a heat coming from the caverns, as well as Magical Residue, which is what is left in the area after a battle with magic. “Looks like someone’s been ‘usin dah old flamethrower.” Crix says. “Fire has been used here.”

  ”I feel it too.” Bastion said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He closes his eyes, and searches around for any survivors in hollow sight. “They’re all dead.” He says, glumly.

  ”Damnit.” Crix says, as the elevator hits the ground. “We’ll need tah split up and look around for Enlin. He could be hiding ‘is Aura in fear of the Warlock finding it. It’s incredibly important he survives this, people listen to ‘im.”

  ”Alright… in that case, the Warlock may be hiding her aura too. Be careful, although I'm sure she’s gone, it’s possible she’s still around. Stay low, alright?” Bastion says. Crix nods, and heads off into the darkness in search of Enlin, and Bastion follows cue. He walks over the bodies here, witnessing the death and panic that had erupted due to Tartarus. He could only imagine what is was like, scrambling away from the madness, the crazed attackers, not knowing friend from foe in the darkness. He looked up to the dimmed lights. The magic hadn’t been drained, but the lights themselves had been smashed to pieces. He looked at the women and children here, all slaughtered. Suddenly, his stomach began to hurt. It was the worst stomach ache he had ever had, so much that he had to slouch against the rubble that was nearby. He felt like he had to be sick. The magical residue was thick here, and the smell was putrid. No wonder he wanted to be sick. He puked, a lot. As if everything he had ate that day and the last had come out of him. He took a few minutes to himself, feeling weak from his sickness, occasionally looking around in Hollow sight, finding nothing. He listened as he heard movement in the background of the caverns, which was likely Crix, as he could pick him up in hollow sight in the direction the sounds were coming from… and even though he saw Crix in plain sight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him. That there was someone, or something, sinister within the caverns. Fear began to swirl inside him mildly, but he put it in the back of his mind, and lifted himself from his slouched position. He still felt woozy, and whoever used the fire magic didn’t help him. For some reason, in this hazy state, he thought of Veronica. Not her words about Blue Magi brutality, but her as a person. “Why’d she have to storm off on me, Damnit...?” Bastion moans to himself. “Why does she have to be so unfair?”

  He stumbled around for a bit, until he began to hear movement from what looked like an equipment shack. Bastion stopped, listening to confirm his suspicions, and clear enough, he heard more movement. Crix was off in the distance, to his left, so whatever is moving here is clearly something without an aura, perhaps a large animal, or someone who was hiding their Aura. He checked one last time, as to where Crix was, which was far away, and decided it was safe to take out his Arcana. He examined the weapon, and he could figure out how to use it easily. It wasn’t like a lightsaber, there was no ‘on’ button, and magic was required to use this weapon. The plasma inside needs to be heated and sent up the blade, generating a layer around the edge of the blade that consists of Arcanum Plasma, highly useful against flesh and magic both. “Easy.” he whispered, and as he said that, the movement stopped, along with Bastion’s heart. Did he alert the enemy? The sound of a door opening and closing came from his right, the exact opposite of before. In that direction, a small shack was placed, likely some sort of storeroom. He snuck closer and closer to the shack, peering through the window. Too dark. After a couple of moments, something flickered from within. Movement? “Screw it!” Bastion yelled, and he kicked the door open, igniting the Arcana. The Arcana illuminates the room, and there, in the small, open room, was nothing. Nothing but a single body on the floor, throat slit, blood caked on the wood beneath him. His face was pale, eyes wide open, royal clothes. “Find what you’re looking for amongst the dead?” A voice says, and Bastion whirls around defensively. He sees nothing. “Crix?” Bastion asks. No answer. Bastion looks for him in Hollow vision, finding Crix off in the distance, checking the rooms in the dug-out rooms in the walls of the caverns. “Who’s there?” Bastion wheezes, then he sees it. An Aura, appearing from nowhere. “The warlock!” He hisses, he aims his Arcana in the direction, waiting for the Warlock to come into view, so he can slay her and end the curse! The figure comes into plain view, out of the shadows, and Bastion’s jaw drops. It’s the dead body, the dead figure inside! It’s the exact same person! He double checks, and his suspicion is correct, the figure before him even has it’s throat slit! Behind the figure, several more Auras come into view, standing in the background, looking on. Chills run down Bastion’s spine, and suddenly, his adrenaline he felt moments ago was sapped from him like it was an open gash in his veins. “How?... How?...” Bastion asks, fear swelling inside him. “How, you say? I wonder… Magic is indeed a curious thing, don’t you think? You wander into these caverns, without a care in the world, confident because you are indeed special, aye? You think you’re better than the humans, who would tremble in these caverns even with their superior technology… but oh, I forget… you indeed have an Arcana…” The man says, “Perhaps you’re so confident that you think… you can strike down a spirit of the dead?”

  ”Y…you’re…” Bastion stuttered, scared now.

  ”Enlin McAllister, prince of the Blue Magi, even in death. It’s who I am, and the spirits behind me still follow me in death, and soon, after your head had been departed from your corpse, into the null and void…” Enlin says, smiling callously.

  ”How? How are you here?” Bastion asks.

  ”Didn’t Stark tell you?” Enlin asks. “Think back… Little Bastion…” With that, Bastion thinks back to the time in the barracks. Stark was telling Bastion about the categories of Necromancy, and among them was raising the spirits of the dead. He was so occupied thinking about Veronica having the title of Warlock that he forgot about the dangers he may actually face. “Damnit…” He hisses. “What now, then?” Enlin asks. Bastion contemplates… does he call for Crix? How does Crix not see this, where is he? He decides he’ll go at them along, and he casts Odin at his attackers. The lightning is disintegrated in front of the spirit, who chuckles at his attempt. Bastion notices the spirit’s blinking. It’s longer than the average human, perhaps, two seconds every time. On the next blink, he charges and attacks with the Arcana. He attacks with such might, that he slips through the spirit, and crashes into the ground. He almost fell on top of his lit Arcana. “Shall we slaughter him, milord?” A spirit asks, to Bastion’s alarm.

  ”Oh, please do… Slowly…” Enlin says, laughing. Bastion clambers to his feet, and his human
instinct tells him to RUN! His fear has turned to panic, knowing that there is no way to get out of here alive, no way to fight back against his attackers. As he ran, he screamed for Crix to get out of here. “Bastion!? Bastion!?” Crix shouts, getting worried. Crix races off into the darkness to look for the terrified boy, following the yells of fear. Bastion darts over rubble and corpses. Laughter echoes in his head, and the bodies he runs over seem to be smiling. Sick expressions became more and more common among the dead, dying in such happiness and glee. Then, he screams, fully panicking, madness overtaking him. Why was he so scared? Why couldn’t he think, and react the way he used to? This wasn’t like him. What was- Questions that were running through his head halted, as he did, and he crashed into a wall. He had come to the end. He holds his rib, which had been damaged by a jutting rock in the wall. He hears yelling behind him, off in the distance… and something close by. “H…hey…” someone says. Bastion is frozen with fear. He doesn’t move, waiting for his end to be brought upon him, no matter how swift or how cruel, an end to this fear would be bliss… and then a hand reaches his shoulder. With a scream, Bastion swirls around and thrusts his Arcana into the stomach of his aggressor. But… his aggressor was no ghost… Bastion’s view locks onto his aggressors face. It’s a man, not Crix thankfully, but a man nonetheless. The face was too familiar, too human, to be anything else. Bastion had killed a man, an innocent man. Bastion wanted to cry out in terror, or sorrow, but he simply had no energy left. The man looked into Bastion’s eyes with shock… and then, fell from his Arcana, falling onto the rubble. A maniacal power-lusty laughter echoes from the cavern, and in front of Bastion was again Enlin, laughing so hard that you could see inside the gap in his throat. “You are being fooled, child.” A voice says, not Enlin, he was still laughing… No, this was another voice, a familiar voice, a voice that he had heard before, at Korreal. “Who are you? Help me, damn you!” Bastion shouts. He could hear Crix getting closer, rushing through the Caverns. He could hear the soft crashing of waves, and again, the voice spoke. “How did the ghost know of your past? How did he know of Stark’s words? Spirits cannot possibly know that…” The voice says.