Oppressive heat struck Vantra, like the thick, near unbreathable air at the semi-tropical beach she visited as a child. She fell to her knees between moist mounds sprouting with the first hint of green, confused by the sudden change of scenery. Her fingers clenched the soil as she took in the tilled earth and the energy-heavy fog covering most of the landscape. A farm?
The continuous sound of harsh grating, like the rumbling of a landslide magnified, sent burning streaks of pain through her essence. Shadows and faint shouts surrounded her, and forms clashed, weapons a watery blur of motion. She made out rufang body shapes; that made sense, if the raiders were from the same rainforest tribe as the ones who attacked the boats on the Dryanflow.
She shuddered as the weight of command bore down on her. Cast Clear Rays, don’t hold back. But what of the living she would Touch? She knew what happened when fear overrode her sense and she used Clear Rays as a weapon. She could not do that, no matter what Red said.
The mini-Joyful splintered; Mera, Tally and Salan raced away, the fog swallowing them, while Kjaelle and Vesh stood guard next to Katta. The ancient ghost stared into the distance, the gleaming sunset blue of his eyes reflecting off the haze. Red? She did not see him. Wincing as the order pounded against her resolve, she sought more energy from the low-lying mist to power the intonation, a poor attempt at a reprieve to figure out how to avoid harming the living with her Touch.
The boiling sickness of the corrupted roots rushed at her from below. She triggered Ether Touch and bounded into the air as the twisted plants punctured the ground. Vesh drew his bow, forming a Grand Seal at the tip of the arrow before releasing it; the ones he struck burst like ripe fruit and showered the area with burned bits.
She glided away from the three Darkness acolytes, and the roots chased her. They leapt up, punched at her form, and fell back down, leaving churned earth and corrupted wisps of energy in their wake. She threw up shield layers and attempted to intone Clear Rays, but the attacks shattered them, and she zipped away to avoid being punctured.
Cast Clear Rays, don’t hold back.
The words ricocheted through her head, and she screamed, fighting the pull.
It is a simple thing, to ease his command.
Agitation ripped through her. The last being she needed to speak with was the ex-Darkness. A root slipped around her leg, his distraction making her too slow to avoid it. It tightened and yanked her down.
She refused to enter the earth with it. Retravigance flames shot down the length and it let go, wagging about and flinging more fire into its brethren. The entire mass chasing her lit, and retreating into the earth did not extinguish the spell.
She floated up, intent on getting high enough to avoid another attack, and a vicious wind caught her. The magic-enhanced gusts tore wisps from her and she snagged them back, fighting to keep her core whole. She triggered Physical Touch and plummeted to earth; better that, than the wind shredding her essence. She landed hard and plastered herself to the ground, forming layers of shields to protect her from another root attack, shoving as much Sun-touched Retravigance into the defenses as possible.
The gusts strengthened. Clumps of earth pelted her before tumbling away, and uprooted plants spun high and glided into the dwindling fog. She shrieked as a blast coursed under her and scooped her up. She scrabbled to grab anything, but the wind somersaulted her high enough that her fingers met with air. Fog filled her gaze, and she could not tell up from down.
Something grabbed her leg. Another root! No, not tainted. Hands pulled her down, and a heavier, living body settled over her, shielding her from the gust’s grip.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She felt the rumble of response from their chest.
“What in Light’s Hand is that?”
She looked over at the Light-blessed who spoke; he and his companions, both living and deceased, focused on the far field, not with fear, but agitated concern. How were they not picked up and flung about? Resentment washed over her as the wind died and suspended debris showered them; nothing large, but she still disliked jerking at every strike of stone, plant, and mass of dirt. Moments after the final stem dropped in front of them, the group slowly gained their feet, raising weapons, their tenseness making her uneasy.
The being shielding her rose, and she flipped over to get a better look at them. By appearance, they resembled a shape-changed faun, but their likeness to other canine-esque, living beings she had seen in Selaserat meant they were chavosine. She smiled, and they smiled back, amusement in their soft brown eyes before it faded into serious uncertainty.
She followed their gaze. The wind had cleared the air of the fog, and she wished it had not. She needed all the energy she could siphon from it to battle the creature she saw. It filled the far end of the field, a mass of broken branches, bark, twisted vines, and clumps of drippy mud, no discernable head, no obvious weak points. A shrill scream erupted from it, the pulsing vibrations causing the living to clutch their chests, and Vantra’s essence wavered under the pressure. The ghosts and their allies in combat with rufang reeled from the attack, and their opponents took advantage, slashing with wooden-handled swords and jabbing with enormous stone spear points.
Finder acolytes read about a myriad of dangers they might encounter in the Evenacht while they searched for the sundered essences of their Chosen. She remembered nothing about rainforest entities that looked like a mishmash of plant materials fused by sloppy mud. Magic permeated it, and while she might have thought it a glejeth, the subspecies of umbrareign known for monstrous appearances, she did not sense ‘alive’ in it. A ghost, then?
Darkness fell, surrounding the battle in ashen mist. The living beings near her gasped, afraid, but the ghosts grinned, expectant. A streak of light rose to hover over the field—Red!—and he raised his arms. Too-bright glare burst from him, and Vantra shielded her eyes, blots dancing across her perception and making sight impossible. She felt a darkness ripped from its hiding place beneath the overt corruption, something still, suffocating, like the Touch of Death. She tried to peek through her fingers, and only saw a smudge of nastiness rushing to the Light acolyte. No!
He’ll be fine. Rezenarza’s mind voice broke her concentration, and she shoved at him, annoyed. Why was he there?
The rainforest is dear to me, and another has sucked away my Touch to engender retribution.
And how did he know that?
Dark intents are a specialty of mine, he replied with sugary maliciousness.
He knew their enemy?
I don’t, he admitted. A familiar Touch rides alongside, however. Another betrayal. She did not imagine his venom. In this, Darkness wears a badge of ally, and as much as I despise his treachery, his was not a planned one. Watch out.
She avoided a magic-saturated vine by the width of a finger, the slashing tip brushing through the wisps of her hair. Static fear raced through her, and she triggered Ether Touch to float back without tripping over the tilled earth. Another point punched towards her, and she slid to the side. The two lengths struck in quick succession, and she flitted back and forth in a frenzy of avoidance. The chavosine shoved their spear into one and ripped the plant apart; it fell, trailing small glumps of vibrant green, and crumpled to the ground, limp. Over a dozen others took its place.
Her other battlefield allies fared no better against the onslaught.
She dropped and slapped up a shield. A point shattered it immediately, and another sliced through her right arm as she dodged. The sickening sensation of rot oozed from the wound, and she thinned her essence so the nastiness fell to the ground.
Another vine targeted her torso.
Clear Rays erupted from her, responding to her revulsion. The vines jerked and withered and broke into clumps, tumbling to the earth and shattering into ashy piles across the soil.
Joy leapt through her. That was the first time she had properly used Mental Touch without intonation!
Lightning flashed, illuminating the field in a hazy yellow. It died too fast for her to take in the battle, but she did catch Mera, Tally, and Salan in a circle below Red, fending off vines and rufang, and several allies pushing to reach the creature. Her new companions noticed, too, and a Light-blessed pointed their mace at the monster.
“Can you cast that at the creature?” he asked, grinning with crazy abandon. What was it, about Clear Rays, that made the Aristarizan react that way?
“I need to Touch the vines. I can . . . hurt others if I go wide.” Despite her reluctance, Red’s command returned in force, and the need to use it overran her hesitation.
Acting with a bravery she did not feel, she sped ahead of the group and to the vines attacking the nearest ally. She smacked them and left the lingering touch of Sun to burn viability out of them.
“Who are you?” a ghost called. His red hair sat in a tail on top of his head so others could see the spinning orb of Light in the center of his forehead. Was he the Light-blessed leader? She alit on the earth near him, concerned that the lingering touch of corruption played along his essence. Those with him fared no better.
“I’m Vantra. I’m with Katta and Qira. You need Clear Rays, all of you, to get rid of the corruption.”
“This rot?” the ghost said, raising his right arm. It congealed on his forearm, around the shining Light gems embedded there. She nodded, realizing that the attacks on her targeted her right arm, too. What did that mean?
She made sure nothing remained of the taint, though fighting to rein in the power took more energy than she expended. The command wanted a full accounting, and she could not comply.
Several laughed in joyous shock, and the one who spoke touched his arm in wonder. The group who kept her from flying away arrived, and by their look, she had not contained the spell as well as she thought.
“Those vines targeted my right arm, too,” she said. “I think they’re going after your gems’ power.”
“You’re not Light-blessed.” The ghost peered at her arm. “And I don’t see a similar receptacle in your essence. So why attack in the same place? I think that means the monster isn’t making decisions, but puppeting commands. We can take advantage of that. Why haven’t you targeted the bulk of it?”
“I can send the living to their evening lands if things go wrong.”
“So you keep the spell in a tight space.” He thrust his sword into the air. Light raced up the blade and formed a shimmering gleam at the tip. “Alright, lads and lasses. We’re getting her near enough she can shove her Sun Touch into it.”
What? NO!
They rushed on. Surly and with a dollop of fuming because she needed to buoy her courage, she flew after them. Vines intercepted them, and she did her best to swipe them, leaving behind sizzling lengths that broke into clumps. How might that harm regular plant growth in the fields? Would the contamination spread, seep downwards, infect the ground like the roots?
The thought caused her to check. The roots lay beneath them, twisted and dark, leeching life from the soil and sending pulses brimming with magic to the monster. To get rid of all of it, she was going to have to go wide, and she could not protect the non-magical living within reach of the spell.
You’ve an interesting morality.
She had a farm and beings to save. Unless he planned to help her, Rezenarza could send his interruptions to the Final Death.
The corruption below surged to the surface.
“The roots!” she screamed just before they erupted from the earth. Everyone scrambled back to avoid being impaled. Pulsing a sick red in warning, the pointed lengths ringed the destructive creature and rose high. The wind restarted, preventing ghosts from soaring up and over the tops, and barbs burst from them, creating a nasty barrier.
Someone snagged the back of her dress before the gusts picked her up again. She looked over; Salan! Red stood next to him, flanked by Mera and Tally, eyeing the leader with annoyance. “You should have called me earlier.”
She started at the testy tone, which earned her a gruff whuffle from the vulf. The ghost leader gave him a quick grin, unrepentant.
“And don’t tell me you could handle it.” Red swept his arms wide, and the ghost muttered something sarcastic under his breath. “Do you know how many have fallen to this thing, Resa?”
Resa? The man Red had wanted to see since their arrival?
“And lucky me, you can get pissy later.” He pointed at Vantra. “She noticed the vines are going after our gems.”
Red glanced at the leather gauntlet that encased his right lower arm. She had not thought about it before, that he hid his obvious link to Light. Upon defeating a gauntlet test, the Light-blessed had received a power-laden gem which the priests embedded into their right arm in a short and painful ceremony. The pattern ultimately formed five rings, with a single line running down the center and ending between the knuckle and the nail of the middle finger.
Once they completed the pattern, the Light-blessed were deemed to have sufficient power and knowledge to defeat the final gauntlet and become Light-ascended. Like Red.
“Vantra, Katta’s shielding the living on our side. You don’t have to worry about Clear Rays.”
“But . . .” What about the enemy?
He formed a glowing mass in his palm and held it to her. Pushed by his previous command, she set her hand on the bauble and thrust the spell into it.
Clear Rays riding Light beams swept across the area like the lights in a dance club. Brilliance blinded her, and she could not hear anything but a steady white buzz.
Laughter, high-pitched, mocking, fractured the cocoon. Light faded, though the Darkness held. “Sevtari seev ansha,” it called, malicious glee lacing the words. Vantra shuddered; the same taint affecting the roots poisoned the tone, and she hoped it did not infect the beings who heard it.
She felt, rather than saw, the vines aiming for Red. She slammed what power she had left into the mass, and the dread corruption struck the rays as if hitting a wall, crumpled, and evaporated. The Touch of Sun traveled up the remaining lengths and swept into the monster’s core; beams broke through the gaps in its form and seared the air around it. The wind died.
“Tolaasho,” the voice said, sounding peeved. “Nedem paar si.”
The Light faded as their allies surged ahead, floating or jumping over rufang who lay in the dirt just behind what had been the root barrier, not unconscious, but unable to move. Living and ghost pointed weapons at the shuddering creature whose solid parts fell away, landed on the earth, and broke into puffs of ash.
Shouts rose from behind; beings wearing the same uniforms as the rivcon’s guards rushed towards the enemy rufang who had not been behind the root barrier when it rose. Those unlucky souls staggered about, hands to heads, and could not wield their weapons to protect themselves.
You make enemies as easily as you once breathed.
“Rezenarza, go away,” Red said. The presence of the ex-Darkness vanished. “He really does annoy you often, doesn’t he?” She nodded, too numb to form a coherent thought.
Red raised his right hand, and Light bloomed around it. In response, the Darkness drifted away, allowing the natural grey dimness of the Evenacht to bathe the field in what seemed like over-bright illumination. Vantra squinted down at the ground, staring at the unmoving bodies through tears.
Salan let her dress go and nuzzled her arm before slinking to a fallen enemy and sniffing at them. Tally squatted next to him, then shook her head. “Senseless,” she muttered.
The chavosine who had saved her trotted to them, and she wondered why they did not join the charge. They pointed the tip of their spear at the black, entwined circles on the exposed arm of the rufang, then those decorating the lower, furred torso, the front and back legs, and the top of the paws.
“These are Wiiv warrior marks. They are the first enemy we’ve caught that have had them—so definitive proof the tribe is sending raiders to the farms.”
Light bloomed from the monster’s direction. Light-blessed stood before it, right arms raised, combining power into a swirling ball that struck the creature faster than she could follow the movement, blowing the remaining form into bits that turned to ash and evaporated midair.
Red sighed. “And they’re not acting alone. Thanks for the info, but we need to go. Katta’s tugging.”
The chavosine nodded at them and began a tour of the fallen, unconcerned they had other business. Vantra walked at the ancient ghost’s side towards a three-story barn painted a bright green, Salan in front, Mera and Tally in back.
“Those marks behave like the Rezenarza Blessing the naro vi-van gave the Nevemere, don’t they?” Mera asked once they had gotten out of hearing range.
“Yeah,” Red said, his tone heavy with annoyed melancholy. “The Blessing allowed him access to their being otherwise prohibited, and he infiltrated them, caused them to do things against their wills. So too, here.” He smacked his hands together. “Filthy shit.”
The reminder made Vantra’s thoughts burn. Rezenarza declared the mini-Joyful untrustworthy, but his actions spoke loud to his own deceitful nature. Shockingly, the ex-Darkness did not pop back in for a nasty comment or two about that.
