Oblivion's Peril

by M. H. Johnson

  His Psiblade whistling through the air. Stopping as the dying girl's bloody gaze met his own.

  Utter stillness as Lord Blackenthorp froze, bitter laughter coming from his lips. "Another red seeks to slay us in our moment of weakness. I pity you, Dauda, for our city carries only death." Utterly heedless of the crackling Psiblade, he sobbed over his dying child. "Even were you to strike me down, it would only be a mercy! And even to my most hated foe, I will give you these words. That which you seek to claim has already come due. And the Red Death will come for you too. If you dare to leave, seeking to flee your doom, you will only live long enough to see your own family expiring before your very eyes!"

  Hot crimson eyes, bitter with tears, dared to turn around, desperate to see, confronting only shadow.

  Test of Skills: Shadowmind vs. Pierce the Veil. Shadowmind successful! A close thing, Val, since you are hesitating so long. This man is worthy of walking the Path of Kings, with a gaze the equal of Overlord Tytus himself!

  “Truly, you are Dauda," the man whispered. "And so powerful I cannot even pierce your veil." He shook his head. "My gift and wealth marked me worthy of their service, and a promise to exclude my clan from their list of targets! And now they would cut me down just because they failed my cousin’s mission? Tell me, Dauda, do you have a family?" He didn't bother waiting for an answer. "I know you can see the red pustules upon my flesh that doom us all. You as well, Dauda, for engineered plagues care nothing for shadow! Soon they will overwhelm even my Psychic healing. Will you flee this city as only one of the cursed can, or will you have the courage to endure your crimson burden alone, for the sake of your family, your children?"

  And before Val could speak, Angelica's eyes widened with the terror of death, her vitals flat-lining as the machines attached to her frame began beeping wildly.

  "Angelica!" her father screamed.

  And then Val broke through the horror of the moment, putting his desperate plan into action.

  "I can save your daughter," Shadow whispered.

  Crimson eyes filled with disbelief and desperate hope locked with his own.

  Test of skills engaged! A father's desperation knows no bounds. Shadowmind pierced! You are vulnerable!

  Val cried out as he stumbled, the awful high-pitched reverberating wail piercing his skull. He grimaced as he prepared for hot death to strike him where he stood.

  And nothing.

  "Do you speak true, Dauda child?"

  Val nodded, grimacing and holding up two vials in his left hand and one in his right. "Swear to serve me in my bid for the throne! Swear that you will never seek to betray me directly or indirectly, and I swear in turn to let you continue on as administrator of this territory once the throne is claimed, and when peace reigns I will tax and tithe you no more than the Overlord before you! If you strike, the vial in my right hand will kill us all when my will no longer holds the infused Silbion steady. Now make your choice! Your daughter has only seconds!"

  And for agonizing moments, the man whose clan was planning on claiming the throne for themselves struggled against desperation and fury.

  His daughter slumping over in his arms made his choice. "Please, save her! I don't care how. Bring my daughter back to me!"

  And Val wasted no time demanding an oath from a man who could have struck him dead after piercing Val's greatest defense. Urgent eyes scanned what he needed, ripping open an IV bag and spilling out most of the fluids within before pouring in one of his priceless purple potions, now holding it like he would a pastry bag before jamming the PVC needle right in the doomed child's chest.

  "What are you doing?" screamed the now furious Overlord.

  "No time!" Val snapped. "Do you know basic CPR? Give her chest compressions stat, so the healing potion can resuscitate her heart and repair her vasculature, or she's dead before I can save her!"

  An endless moment as Val felt a titanic force coalesce around him, feeling Ego Crush heartbeats from slamming into him, and then the weight lifted, the massive figure performing chest compressions with tenderest care as Val squeezed the entire diluted purple into his patient before he plunged the needle of an untampered bag of plasma into the child's stomach, breaching safety protocols without end.

  "Why?"

  "It doesn't matter how many protocols I'm breaking! The potion is a Greater Regeneration. The fluid I'm now forcing into her stomach will be used up by the healing while repairing her damaged heart and replacing lost blood."

  Outrage and disbelief fled his face as his daughter cried out in his arms, still in pain and covered in sores, but very much alive, at least for the moment. Val immediately thrust a nearby pitcher of water into the father's hands. "Have her drink this in its entirety, no matter how she protests! I’ve dealt with dehydration before. She needs all that fluid to fully benefit from the magics ripping through her. Her body will then have what it needs for repairs." He quickly looked around. "Do you have any salt?" His roving eyes spotting the untouched tray and condiments, spotting what he needed. "Excellent!" He did not hesitate to pour some in the pitcher as the girl choked down the drink.

  Lord Blackenthorp had eyes only for his sobbing daughter as she drained the last of the pitcher before squeezing her father tightly with fragile arms.

  "Father! Heaven's mercy, I thought I was dying!" Her sob of relief turned to a surprised shriek when she saw Val, the pounding headache he was receiving from the high-pitched whine permeating this palace entire locking him in place. He grimaced in pain as the beautiful girl's eyes widened, the same piercing violet as Elise's.

  "Father, look at him. Taste his aura! He's clearly Dauda. Is he working for you? And the doctor, he's collapsed. We have to help him!"

  Val turned to the Highlord, two Cure-all potions sparkling like sapphires in his hands. "Right now you have the advantage,” Val said. "Limited as I am, I can sense your power. You could strike me dead if you choose, even if I could kill us all before I fell."

  He turned to examine the girl, gazing at him so strangely as her beautiful eyes caught his own. High cheekbones, soft lips, hair lush and full despite her illness. When she healed she would look nothing less than striking. And hauntingly familiar. So stunned he was that Val did nothing during those endless moments the girl was sobbing in her father’s arms before collecting herself and abruptly locking gazes with Val. Her stare widened as she took a shuddering breath, alarmed by what she saw.

  "You came here to kill us, but changed your mind because of my father's desperation? You rescued me because I remind you of a girl you once loved? Do you truly pity your enemies so, Valor Hunter? What a strange Dauda you are." Then she frowned, peering hard into eyes he only averted after endless seconds.

  "You... you're one of Christine's hybrids! Forged in a lab? Angel's mercy, that woman is mad!"

  "She is!" hissed her father. "She never had any love for our clan. Mercy knows what she would have done to us, had we actually claimed the throne! That is why my clan dared strike a blue. An action I hope never to repeat, but mad dogs cannot be tamed!"

  He chuckled bitterly, gazing at his sores, the sores already healing upon his daughter's slowly filling out features, hissing when she scratched at a fresh one forming. "You swore to save my daughter!"

  Val nodded. "I did, and I will. The purple buys her time. Several hours even from the brink of death, at least. The Cure-all potion will burn it free of her system entirely. But she was so far gone, heart stopping, it would have been too late."

  Angelica squeezed her eyes tightly shut. "I was dying. It was beyond awful. I can't even describe the horror I felt as the pain only grew and grew. There was no hope, no ally to come to my rescue, and no reason in the world for an enemy to show mercy. Yet still, you chose to save me. A girl whose hopes and dreams should mean nothing to you. A girl you don't even know!" Her gaze turned imploring. "I know you could drop and shatter them, even if Father struck you down. Please, don't stop what you started just because my father chose crass words. He almost lost me,
after all." Her gentle smile turned pleading. "Please?"

  Val swallowed the lump in his throat, not hesitating to hand her the vial she so desperately needed. Her smile lit up with relief. "Heaven's mercy, thank you, Valor Hunter."

  Val was shaken to his core. Save for those exotic eyes, Angelica reminded him so very much of a girl he had loved and lost to an abusive boyfriend's blows. And what Val had done next had changed the course of his entire existence, leading inexorably to his presence right here, right now, the fate of countless souls in his hands.

  He turned to Lord Blackenthorp. "Your daughter will be safe. She will survive whatever is to come. But if you wish a Cure-all potion for yourself, for near another fifty people to at least have a second chance at life even if I cannot save the entire city, you need to give me your oath."

  The powerful Highlord glared hotly at Val, fists clenched. Val slowly took out not a flask, but an entire beaker of Elementium-infused Silbion. He turned his gaze to meet a suddenly terrified Angelica who had just finished sipping the second potion, horrid blisters marring perfect features already healing with two masterwork potions flowing through her veins. "Please. Leave this room. Leave the palace entire. It will comfort me to know that at least you can survive, even if I can save no one else this day."

  Angelica trembled, eyes pleading silently for her father's life.

  "Alright!" shouted Lord Blackenthorp. "I will stand under your banner! Just give me what potions you can, and so long as you swear to stay out of my affairs should you actually seize the throne, you will receive only praise from my lips, no matter how bitter the brew I must swallow! But you will never tax me more than 5% of my cities' revenue, and your clan will swear not to strike down citizens upon Blackenthorp lands!"

  Val frowned. "I’m afraid I can’t vouch for the Dauda clan. As your daughter deduced, I’m just a hybrid cooked up in a mad scientist’s lab. But I’m just as human, just as real, as everyone else you see. You are swearing to serve me and never betray me or this oath by action or a failure to act. And I, in turn, will let you administer this territory with the understanding that until the war is won, I have rights to all soldiers and resources at your disposal. After that, any requests and resources will be prioritized and duly compensated for. Finally, you must do your best to make sure no other player on the board strikes me down while I am on these lands, as I am vulnerable only for Angelica's sake. Do you agree to these terms?"

  A single angry nod. "Fine. But if there is anything further you can do for my people, please do so. Close to a million people call this territory home. Over half live in this city, and gods only know how many are dying, despite the multiple quarantines in effect!"

  Val nodded, placing his palms gently upon the head of Lord Blackenthorp, and Val could sense his fears even now. But Val did not strike the man before him who loved both his family and his people with such a fierce intensity even as he felt cords of psionic and magical energies bind tightly to them both.

  "It's done," Val whispered, shaking with the intensity of the bond he had forged with the man before him, even now gazing at Val in wide-eyed wonder.

  "This is what a Greater Oath feels like?" He shook his head. "Strange. I had expected horrific pain. But instead, this feels balanced, somehow."

  Val grimaced a nod, the ringing in his ears now a high-pitched throb. Without hesitation he raced to the dying doctor, pumping him full of fluid and potions with a curt nod from the Highlord. "Yes. Please treat him. He has served my family honorably for decades."

  Within minutes a smiling Angelica was giving the recovering doctor a squeeze. "We live, dearest Clause, we live!"

  Val gazed gently at Angelica. "Angelica, are you willing to abide by your father's oath and swear yourself to my service as well? Should you succeed your father, I foresee myself offering the same terms of semi-autonomy to you. But for the nonce, are you willing to accede all claims to Blackenthorp Province and swear never to reveal your suspicions about me and to never deliberately work towards my downfall? I will bind you no further than that."

  And with her trembling nod, Val touched her silky curls, binding her to the gentlest of oaths. He then turned to her father. "I sense yet another Blackenthorp with rights to the territory. I need his oath as well, if I am to claim this land without unnecessary deaths."

  Lord Blackenthorp furrowed his brow, at last giving a curt nod, his daughter taking his hand, graced with a miracle of energy as the Greater Regeneration repaired a body pushed to its limits at amazing speed. All trace of open sores were now completely gone, though she still needed her father's strong arm, for all that she insisted she was coming.

  And within minutes they made their way to the grandly appointed council room, Val holding his head up high with pride and authority for all that he was increasingly alarmed by the odd electromana vibrations his sensitive ears interpreted as the most piercing of sounds. He was painfully aware of just how perilous was the game he played, but between his Cure-all and explosive flasks, he hoped he had sufficient cards to keep him alive.

  But Shadowmind, once second nature to him, slid like grains of sand from a hand clenched too desperately, too tightly. That odd, pervasive sound resonated through his skull, preventing him from becoming one with the shadows just heartbeats away, now utterly beyond his reach.

  He flashed a bitter smile. He was a fool not to retreat this very instant. The Blackenthorps had him mastered the moment he dared to break free of Shadowmind, unable to return once more.

  Fists tightly clenched the vials he held. Several purple and one red, in case the worst should come to pass, expertly slid into an easily accessible belt pouch. He turned to Angelica, gazing at him oddly with features that haunted him still, reminding him so very much of a girl he had once loved and would have done anything to save.

  He saw her flush, and shook those treacherous thoughts away. "Angelica..."

  But it was already too late.

  They had entered the throne room, a massive chamber equal parts opulent decor and cutting-edge technology. It was a grand, almost cathedral-like audience hall that could easily have doubled as a gala room with gilded thrones, exotic gold veined marble flooring, musician alcoves, fountains, and a magnificent domed ceiling now displaying an illuminated projection of the heavens overlaying what Val surmised was a map of the local cluster of stars and the trade routes between them. In striking contrast, the massive computer terminals and blue screens in back looked both hyper-futuristic and like something out of a mad scientist's lab, particularly the figures dressed in what were once immaculate white uniforms now stained with unnameable fluids, presently slumped over their stations. All of them were still with death, save for the foul discharge still dripping from ruptured sores.

  And in the heart of that room, body covered with sores that didn’t slow his mad, furious pacing in the least, stood a man that blazed with potency and fury, crimson eyes and scarred features coming to rest on his brother's own.

  Thoughts racing as fast as they ever had, Val could think of only one play available to him with that awful vibration killing so many other options. He locked gazes with a rapidly blinking Angelica, imparting a secret they alone would share as his fingers dipped into his dimensional rift once more.

  Shadowsplit successful! Angelica's eyes may not be the moons of Jordia, but they will hold your secret for now...

  And now he was caught flatfooted before a wild-eyed man whose hostility washed over Val in waves, Psiblade crackling to life even as the Blackenthorp beside Val strove for reconciliation.

  But Val knew already that no reconciliation save death would assuage this man's hate for the Dauda who had dared to invade his city, who had the unmitigated gall to try to take it from him.

  "What is the meaning of this, Lucius? Why does a Dauda dare to walk in the heart of our domain at our most vulnerable hour?"

  Lucius flashed a cold smile. "Because it is our final hour, Marcus. The final hour for all the hundreds of thousands who have sworn thems
elves to us, their destinies in our hands. The final hour for the great artists we have sponsored, the trade ventures you and I schemed that might one day bring us fortunes unparalleled, the birth of industries relegated to other worlds for far too long! Our entire city, brother! The blood and sweat of countless Blackenthorp generations will be naught but ruins. A ravaged shell decorated with the corpses of our loyal citizens will be all that marks our dreams of changing the world entire!"

  His brother froze, eyes widening at those words.

  "That is, unless we have the courage to do what must be done to save our city, brother. To save our people! Our cousins have already fallen, so hungry they were for us to declare the red. But it is not too late for us, Marcus. Our hope, bittersweet as it is, will allow us to survive this day and to rise anew, reforging our city to heights glorious and bold. Only a single path will be denied to us, one we can embrace once more in centuries to come! In return, we can save our citizens, save our city, and carry on just as we had before!"

  Marcus's jaws clenched with fury, a pustule upon his face rupturing at that instant, foul-smelling discharge dripping down his chin he paid no attention to at all. "You would surrender. I taste it upon your mind, brother! How reluctant you were to strike a blue, refusing even to join the assault! And now you would surrender to this pathetic broken Dauda who cannot even cloak before us? Pathetic!”

  The crackling hum of an activated Psiblade cut off all further conversation. Marcus's nostrils flared. "I can taste it, brother. You have already sworn yourself to him!"

  "And I am free of the Red Death! He has the cure!" Lucius roared even as he grabbed his daughter’s arm and moved her away from Marcus's target, Val. "He saved Angelica and me when he could have slain us where we lay!"

  Marcus sneered. "You sold our city for your daughter. So be it! I will claim cure and throne both, when I cut this vile worm down!" he roared, charging Val who had known from the instant he had caught those hot eyes that death was the only way forward now, keeping the deadly vial he now held between two clenched fingers upon his hilt ready for the opportunity when it came, four feet of crackling oblivion catalyzing just in time to meet his enemy's charge.