Oblivion's Peril

by M. H. Johnson

  Shadow cold as death gazed at the dying man before him. Begging for mercy. Christine's nephew. Julia's cousin. And he had tried to kill her. He had betrayed them all.

  "You're dying," Val coldly whispered.

  Philip whimpered as blood poured from between his hands. "Please don't let me die. Please!"

  Val slammed the man off his Julia, cradling her head, relieved to feel her thready heartbeat, knowing he only had one chance. But first, he needed to test it. He needed to be sure it wouldn't kill her like it almost had Val when the dwarves had tormented him with agony even as they rescued him.

  He lay Julia down with a kiss before twisting around to his fallen foe, pressing his free hand to a terrified Philip's scalp, the man's skin already clammy as blood continued to pour out. "You will swear a greater oath to me," Val said. "You will swear to obey me in all things, forever. You will swear never to scheme or connive against me or mine or the Highblood clan deliberately or by omission. Any question I ask, you will answer truthfully." Val gently pressed his crackling blade an inch from the Highlord’s gasping face. "If you think to strike in the heartbeat you will sense the opportunity, my blade shall cleave off your head."

  "No, no, I would not... Yes! I accept the oath, I accept the oath! Just please save me... please..."

  Val pressed his hand against Philip’s temples, feeling an odd frisson of intensity, somehow tasting the entirety of Philip's soul, its beauty and ugliness, all the hopes and dreams and experiences that had transformed Philip from the wide-eyed child he once had been to the bitter man he had become. Val suddenly understood the man, body and soul. And saw the ugly shadow of the psionic surgery that had so poisoned his mind.

  Traitors to the Highblood house indeed.

  Val hissed. Far from being the mastermind, Philip had simply been another tool.

  "Swear it."

  Philip screamed and shook as Val's binding seared through him. "I swear it!" he cried, blinking and gasping, eyes widening a heartbeat later, the Greater Oath somehow splintering the dark curse that had infested Philip's mind. "I... that was no psionic oath... my mind feels clear. Clean. Why did I..." His gazed at Julia in shock, before blinking at the stump of his own arm. "My hand, burning! Oh gods, I have no hand! My insides. Master, I can see my insides. Help me!" His pathetic pleading was that of a little boy.

  Val rolled him onto his stomach, refusing to meet the man's eyes for all that he could feel the potency of the Greater Oath he had forged. Stronger than any he had ever cast before. "Say nothing," Val said. "This will hurt. As you deserve. But if you are lucky, it will save you."

  Ignoring the man's exhausted pleas, Val took a deep breath, centering himself, sensing other players fighting still, though most of the battle was outside the manor proper, Blackenthorp battle-mechs more than capable of destroying their entire compound if Val didn't hurry.

  Compelled by Julia's agonized sobs, catching her panicked gaze for one terrible moment, he pressed his hands against Philip's awful wound, closed his eyes, and summoned two dwarven spells.

  Philip screamed in agony as his wounds hissed and sizzled, the strange scent of exotic plant-based disinfectants and cauterized flesh suddenly washing over them all as Val cast Searing Cleanse. Both sterilizing the wounds and cauterizing the severed wrist to a charred stump.

  Val flashed a bitter smile. "And now you get to experience true pain."

  "I swore to serve you. I swore to serve you! Please heal me!"

  "Shut up, fool. That's what I'm doing," Val said, pitilessly channeling Season's Mending into the man's ravaged tissue, feeling Philip's cells going into mad overdrive, the Searing Cleanse helping to stop critical blood loss even as this spell forced the cells to fully regenerate, not simply scar over damaged tissue. A season’s worth of healing, and pain, experienced over just a handful of hours. Philip shrieked and writhed as the harshest of healing magics tore through him.

  And Val wasted not another thought on the man, gazing at a gasping Julia and feeling his heart twist in fear, forcing himself to icy calm as he cast the pair of spells yet again, putting his all into casting them perfectly.

  You have successfully cast Searing Cleanse! Cost: 20 Mana. You have successfully cast Season’s Mending! Cost: 30 Mana.

  And Val couldn't help sobbing as his Julia screamed, writhing in pain, and very much alive as ruptured blood vessels were cauterized, damaged cells working madly to heal and replicate themselves. It was all he could do to carry her writhing form into the ruins of what had once been a lab—crystal cubes, lab stations, and personnel now nothing but shredded ruins and maimed sobbing survivors.

  And Val spent precious moments extracting five more oaths, casting five more sets of spells, waiting only so long as needed for each one, dizzy with only a handful of Mana left when the healings and bondings were complete, knowing he dare not waste a second longer.

  "Val," sobbed a writhing Julia. "I love you!"

  Val gazed at the beautiful girl locking her golden emerald eyes to his own, tucked in a corner with five other survivors and Philip nearby, all of them wearing silent grimaces of agony, all of them knowing that to call attention to themselves was to sign their death warrant.

  And Val had bonded all of them to cruelest oaths, refusing ever to let his Julia be put in danger again.

  "And I love you," he whispered, wasting not another second. And for all that his mind crackled with arcane insights, he forced it all aside until he could finally enter Shadowmind once more.

  The courtyard was a cacophony of screams, death, and laser fire, their enemies having knocked out all power before beginning the assault proper, early evening giving the edge to soldiers wearing night-vision visors far more sophisticated than anything on Earth.

  But somehow, it didn't matter. Their hungry eyes still washed over Val. Even in brilliant false light, shadow would forever be his friend.

  Yet could it truly cloak him from the massive legion of soldiers even now closing in?

  For the moment Val was spared from the scrutinizing gaze of thousands of additional troops, Blackenthorp's entire legion, temporarily cut off from the advance force by the massive force field guarding Christine's entire household.

  But with the generators down, how long would it last?

  The pair of perfectly polished and maintained mech units Christine had tempted Yin with were now being targeted by the pair of battle-mechs that had slipped through before the tactical shields had been activated, one of Christine's desperately scrambling pilots instantly cut in two by laser fire before he could even enter his pod, Blackenthorp's battle-mechs happily blasting at any cluster of Christine's forces that dared to form up, forcing them all to scatter before steadily picking them off, one by one.

  And then a pair of brilliant flashes as one of the massive killing machines began to topple over, sparks and crackling erupting all over the unit, the pilot's faint screams actually audible through his pod as he was electrocuted by unthinkable currents, somehow searing him in ways far more terrible than pure electricity back on Earth.

  You have successfully cast Automative Folly! If it can fry dwarven automatons, just imagine what it can do to Dominion mech-units! 10 mana expended! - Save versus shadowrupture failed. Your use of magic has disrupted your Shadowmind! Your enemies can see you, Val, as well as they can see anything in the madness of war! Shields up, you're going to need it!"

  Val hissed as he blinked, his Psi-sense immediately abandoning him, wrenching him free of the night and into everyone's line of sight. Or at least the sight of the enemy troopers pointing his way.

  One of the invaders was pressing his earpiece and yelling even as Val desperately pulled free his forceshield. He was about to activate it in the way he always did, remembering Elise's bemused condescension a lifetime ago when he mentioned sensing other ways to activate it. Mockery or no, now was the time to take that gamble.

  If the remaining battle-mech now pivoting around and locking onto him was any clue, he would need any edge he coul
d get.

  With a fierce wrenching of his will, he twisted his sense of the shield's configuration, pleased to see it burst to life with what was now a 4-foot diameter. Congratulations, you have intuited lost elements of the Psion arts! Extended forceshield activated! 100 Psion reserved.

  Congratulations! You now have Rank 1 in forceshield.

  "Kill him!" one of the soldiers screamed.

  Vulcan autocannons began to obliterate the ground near his feet.

  He braced his shield with desperate intensity. Congratulations! You've managed to boost your forceshield! This is technically impossible, but when has that ever stopped you before? Extended forceshield boosted! Additional 50 Psion reserved!

  And somehow Val could feel the force and fury of the electromana currents racing toward him, that he feared might shred him even through the crackling Psi-shield he was pouring so much of himself into. He quickly activated his Synergized Ward, overlaying his protections, playing a desperate hunch. If arcane energies and blasterfire were all just differing frequencies within the electromana field, and he could successfully push aside streams of fire and spears of ice, just how far did his gift extend?

  Insight gained! What are blasters and fireballs but differing frequencies in the electromana fields of Jordia? Only potency, frequency, and method of delivery differ! Specialist PRM skill Synergized Parry learned!

  Test of skills engaged! Vulcan Autocannon X tier potency + L4 sharpshooter skill vs. L10 PRM + L1 Synergized Parry!

  And Val could feel exhilaration and terror in equal measure as his enhanced Arcane Sight allowed him to sense the stream of energies searing toward his body at that very minute. To sense it, and to pit his skills against it, somehow pushing it back, a bow wave of force redirecting the torrent of power now aimed straight at him.

  A glimmer of success. The stream of death fragmenting, energies shooting in all directions... but most of it was still aimed right toward him. He had to hold his shield tight!

  Test of skills tied. Test of skills failed! You have managed to refract 40% of Vulcan autocannon, the other 60% hitting your shield!

  Your boosted forceshield absorbs 900 points of damage! Psionic cost to maintain shield is 10% of damage over 100 = 80 Psions! Psionic cost reduced by 80 divided by rank in forceshield = no reduction to base cost! Fatal Wound reduced to Medium Wound and save versus disruption.

  Save against shield collapse failed. Your forceshield is down! Forceshield collapse has discorporated your Synergized Ward! No further damage absorbed! Scattered fire has caused Medium Wound to left calf. Save versus crippling wound failed. Your left calf is temporarily crippled!

  Val crashed to the ground, mind screaming with the wave of terrible force roaring through his psyche as he tried to hold his shield steady, his connection soon shattering as his calf and skull screamed in agony, now knowing exactly what it felt like when he disrupted the forceshields of his foes. His ears rang with the awful cheering of the enemy troops even now closing in on his stunned form, the autocannon slowly winding up for another burst, Val realized at that moment that he had failed, his friends would die, and it was all his damned fault.

  If only he had insisted that first crucial hour that he be allowed to concoct more healing potions. Or just ask for more flasks so he could make dozens of Elementium-infused explosive solutions, storing them for when needed. But he hadn't, and so few vials remained. He had been exhausted, drained, and reacting to his environment, beautiful surroundings lulling him into a deadly sense of complacency, thinking he had time, even after their enemies first sought the Highblood's downfall.

  Val had been more concerned with discretion, hiding ugly truths from himself that he recalled all too clearly in that horrid moment with Phoebe blazing so brilliantly above and death just moments away, when he should have taken charge of his own fate and been focusing on ferreting out and striking his enemies even then, remembering the one other Highlord whose cold gaze had met Carlito's before he turned away.

  And somehow Val knew that man had been Highlord Blackenthorp himself. Perhaps just one of a coterie all wearing the same title. A clan of savage Highlords who would fight and rule as one.

  He grimaced, trying to shift into Shadowmind in the moments he had left.

  Shadowmind skillcheck failed! Stunned status still in effect! How does it feel to have thousands of volts crackling through you? Well, you haven't felt anything yet, Val. Death is just a happy handshake away!

  Val gazed into death's face and smiled, hand upon his belly, ready to access his dimensional rift and play his final card.

  And then he heard it. Two unbelievable words. A torrent of unbelievable pain endured only for the sake of someone as precious as life itself. He felt the crackling of arcane energies building, eyes widening with disbelief even as battle-mech cannons began to blaze hot, rolling frantically with every last iota of self-preservation as blistering hot beams of shocking light tore through the ground just feet from his crippled form before the air howled with the promise of oblivion once more.

  "Titan's Blast!" a wounded Julia screamed, and Val could feel her terrible pain even from here. Pain mixed with inhuman concentration and deadly intent. And the fiercest desire to defend the man she loved.

  And Val's world was filled with the roar and thunder of absolute devastation, grateful beyond words that Julia's mastery had given her a measure of control even when gravely wounded, concussive force alone sending him hurling back.

  You have suffered 50 HP damage! Dwarven armor reduces Severe Wound to Medium Wound! You have suffered 1 broken rib! -2 to all physical skill checks until healed! You are partially crippled! 1/2 normal movement, -4 to all martial activities requiring you to stand!

  And Val kept rolling as fast as he could, a horrid creaking sound, tremors in the ground, then a titanic crash as the shattered remnants of the final battle-mech toppled over, flaming shrapnel flying everywhere, and thank goodness his dwarven armor protected him from the few that slammed into his form.

  "Kill that bitch and regroup!" roared a rough commander's voice. "These bastards are hurt worse than we are. We finish this and leave no survivors!"

  Rough cheering as a leader tried to rally his troops.

  Val's heart was pounding with fear and fury, even as he fought to keep the world from spinning. He was shell-shocked, nauseous, had a broken rib, a damaged calf, and had just been nearly electrocuted. Right now he couldn't enter Shadowmind to save his life.

  And none of it mattered. Because the Blackenthorp soldier was right. Christine had been taken completely by surprise, her guards just holding their own against the advance party of an entire legion waiting to cut them down the moment Christine's shields faltered. No matter how determined Christine's soldiers were, any cluster of men that rallied and attempted to rush Blackenthorp troops with reflective shield walls and blades had been cut down without mercy by battle-mech blasterfire so powerful no alloy save Altersian crystal had a hope of warding it.

  Even with the battle-mechs down, it was only a matter of time before Blackenthorp’s now superior numbers mopped up the survivors, putting them down without mercy.

  And Val was not going to let that happen. No matter how hard he had to bite his lip, blood trickling down his throat as he choked down a scream of pain, bereft of all healing potions or explosive vials, given no time or quarter to heal himself, long and agonizing as that would be, it didn't matter. All that mattered was seeing his enemies dead.

  Stealth check failed! -2 to Stealth check with crippled limb! Just not the same without Shadowmind, is it, Val?

  "There's the bastard! Kill him!" roared a handful of enemy soldiers.

  Val smiled even as he pulled free one of Arilius's parting gifts from his dimensional rift, as fine a dwarven shield as he could ask for. Not quite as good as a forceshield, but his Psions were tapped for the moment, and he suspected being concussed was affecting his recovery. But the hot furious passion that was at the heart of so much magic was roaring through him like
never before.

  "Glacie Pilum! Glacie Pilum!" Val roared, feeling fury as much as magic boost the spells he launched at the pair of armored mercenaries crouching down and blasting his shield even now.

  A pair of shocked cries were quickly drowned out by the screams and chaos of the battlefield, the pair of soldiers crashing to the ground, writhing against the massive pykrete spears that had caved in laminar breastplates, spearing them like fish, Val sparing a single glare for their thrashing forms.

  Ice Spears cast! 24 mana spent! You have embraced your wrath, enhancing damage by 30%! Kill on!

  Quick whispered words and he felt time seem to slow, the night getting even dimmer, though Phoebe was brilliant enough he could see the scene of horror before him perfectly, even yanked free of Shadowmind.

  Julia, face gaunt with pain and terror, nonetheless managed to hold before her a brilliantly shimmering Synergized Ward, blocking the hail of laser fire aimed her way.

  As a figure with a captain's cape shouted orders, jabbing for his men to circle Julia so they could bring her down.

  In his current state, Val could never hobble there in time.

  "Glacie Pilum!" Val screamed, projecting the magics roaring inside with every ounce of his will, desperately aiming for the very tip of the caped man's head. He could all but feel the cords of probability latch upon his foe, doing his best to somehow guide his spell, manipulating the same electromana energies he had tried desperately to yank away from him, just moments before.

  Empowered Ice Spear cast! 25 Mana spent! You have embraced your wrath, casting your spell from a hasted time bubble. Range has doubled! Target hit. Target has suffered crippling wounds!

  Save versus critical failure made! Insight gained. If your PRM derived skill Synergized Parry allows you to push aside the forces and fields of reality (are Vulcan autocannons just a bit too real for you, Val?) then why not manipulate those same fields to enhance your magic as well? Your Synergized Parry has evolved to EM Mastery Rank 1! Manipulate the electromana field to hinder your enemies and help your friends!