Chapter 38

A common supply used by healers and frequently used by adventurers are hemo-pills. A concoction of specially tailored chemicals, supplements, and Life Myst designed to match a blood type, increase the body’s blood production rate to an almost unthinkable degree, and quickly clot even major wounds. But these pills are not to be used lightly. One pill for a severe wound, two pills for a critical amount of damage, and three pills as an absolute last resort to stop death if at all possible. Using more hemo-pills than needed can have disastrous consequences, with the possible result of bursting arteries and excessive bleeding from orifices, eyes, and nail beds.

Day 381 Quenchenday

Before I knew it, year’s end had found me and the day of the final exams. That day, which would normally be a day of rest, was instead a day of do or die. I spent the night prior in a fidgeting state of anxiety, even with my medication. I tossed around in bed, getting entangled in my sheets. When the alarm went off, I found myself ensnared when I flailed out of bed in a panic. I freed myself from the clutches of my traitorous sheets and dressed in a frantic rush. I pressed my way through the door as I tucked my uniform shirt into my pants, my equipment bag slung over one shoulder. As I left the dorms, I was re-buttoning my jacket because I had misaligned the sides on the first try. Without a second thought, I passed the DEFAC, my stomach churning. I doubled my pace as I passed through the main doors of Aegis Hall. 

I wasn’t the only one in an agitated state. You could smell stress in the air. Heads hung low, short steps, hurried paces, everyone fingering the training weapons while their eyes flit from one person to the next. I knew the collective fear of the student body, a last-minute snatch for Vector points. Anyone could challenge you in the hall or a mock assassination. The mass mutual fear was realized with the crack of lightning, closely followed by a wail of pain. As one, everyone around me turned back to look.

Just outside the main doors of Aegis Hall, a female High Elf student stood over the fallen form of a female Human student who lay on her side. Lightning crackled between the fingers of the Elf, and I might have been imagining it, but I thought I saw a chard and smoldering hole through the center of the Human. We all collectively held our breath. Would this act begin a cascade? Would the brittle peace that kept everyone in the halls civil shatter?

I decided not to find out. Without looking back, I turned around and blindly power-walked down the hall. As I turned down the next fork on my way to the elevators, I kept my head low and fervently prayed behind pursed lips that I would go unnoticed. With a glance at the time on my therra, I found the time was 7:27. I had three minutes to get to Thallos before things were going to get ugly for me.

I left the mass of bodies, and for a few heartbeats, I thought I was in the clear. Then, I caught sight of four looming figures. I didn’t have to focus on any of them to know who they were or what they wanted. A large broad-shouldered shape and a larger draconian figure, each were bookends between two smaller figures. One had a lithe and slender frame with golden hair, and, of course, there was the mildly masculine frame topped off with an aggravating pair of pigeon wings.

My frantic pace stalled until I stood only ten feet from the wall of meat and rage. I unconsciously let my training bag slide from my shoulder. I took a long and slow breath in and made eye contact with each of the antagonists. Brecken hung his greatsword over his shoulders, baring a tusked smirk at me with menace.

Kesher casually braced a morning star against his shoulder. The weapon had a shaft the length that I measured to my eye to be the same length as my body from feet to shoulder, with a bladed head twice the size of my own skull. His face bore a brand of pinkish flesh around his eye, the shape of a hand. So that was the scar that I left on the Dracose that couldn’t be totally mended, even with magic. He did not look pleased to see me.

Gellar lazily twirled one of the two short swords in his grip. He wore a sneer that only a High Elf could wear without looking comical. Lastly, the slimeball Mallrimor was trying to look intimidating with a pair of empty hands, rhythmically drumming the fingers of his left hand over the knuckles of his right, the burn scar wrapping his wrist only just poking past his sleeve. In all honesty, the slimy pigeon just looked like he was nervously fidgeting with a comical smirk on his face.

After I met each of their gazes, I eyed the weapons, all wearing lethal edges. I pinched my lips into an annoyed knot as I let out an even more annoyed sigh, very carefully masking my climbing panic. It was at that moment I realized I hadn’t taken my daily dose of my anti-crazy injection. I was thankful, very thankful, that Thallos had been so hard on me during my acting training. I couldn’t let them know they had me worried. If the trolls smelled blood, I was going to be lunch meat.

“I’m guessing you guys aren’t going to let things be easy, are you?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. In confirmation, Mallrimor summoned a ball of flame in each hand. “Blackened blade and broken bone, you all seriously want a repeat of last time?”

Kesher stepped up, shifting his morning star to bounce the upper portion of its shaft on his free palm. “Last time, we toyed with you. This time,” he rolled his neck, emitting a series of vicious cracks and pops. “We mean to take your head.” I had no memory of hearing the Dracose speak, and his voice was deep, especially for someone as young as him. He sounded like gravel being ground through a mulcher.

I activated the recording of my therra-node before I held up the same finger to postpone their advance while I leaned over to unzip my bag. The act was just as much to taunt them as to stall for time. I knew the taunt worked when Mallrimor hurled a bolt of flame aimed at my head. I pulled myself back to standing to avoid the shot. As I straightened, I still held my bag by the zipper.

Brecken stormed forward, the hilt of his greatsword gripped in both hands and primed for a swing aimed at my neck. As he swung hard, I took a long and smooth step back. That simple motion took me just outside of the blade’s range, if only by an inch or two. I yanked open my bag, plunged my hand within, and blindly sought for my tactical gauntlet. As soon as I felt my fingers wrap around a strap of elastic and metal, I felt an excited smirk curve my lips. I yanked the tool free of the bag just in time to see another bolt of fire hurtling at me. 

I tossed my bag into the path of the bolt. The two came in contact with a flare, the flame melting through the nylon bottom of the bag. The scorching attack chewed through my sweat towel and blew a hole in my water bottle. A cloud of steam burst from the bag. The bolt, while lessened, continued through the mist and zipped past my face, bringing a flash second of heat across my cheek that would have curled any facial hair if I had any.

I popped the first of three straps on my tactical catlar. As I moved on to the next latch, I saw the steam swirl. That was my only warning of something passing through the cloud. Gellar lanced through the cloud with a thrust aimed at my chest. I deflected the strike with a backhand swing of my gauntlet. The device was still unattached, and even as I threw the blade strike wide, the rest of the gauntlet flailed and flopped about with a clatter. My deflect was only enough to save me by knocking the blade up and to my right. The blade thrust past the cheek opposite the one the flame bolt had just been warmed.

I throw a kick at the Elf’s knee, forcing him back a step, giving me some breathing room. As the steam dissipated, I popped the second latch. Brecken charged at me through the fading cloud with a downward chop aimed at my shoulder. I threw myself forward into a roll between the Elf and the Orc. I came to a stop on the heel of one foot, my other leg stretched out straight, acting as my brake. 

Throwing open the last latch of my gauntlet, I seated my arm into the catlar just in time to see a looming shadow rise over me. I didn’t have to look to know that Kesher stood over me with a swing aimed to pulp my brain. As I rolled to my right, I kept the gauntlet under me. I hadn’t even rolled off my chest when I felt more than heard the shattering of tile and concrete from a blow that would have ended me. My back hit the floor, and I closed the first strap over my wrist. I hurled myself forward into a crouch on the balls of my feet as I heard a shuffle from behind me. I spun on one foot and brought my right arm to bear in a defensive vertical angle just in time to meet Gellar’s hack aimed at my neck. They weren’t kidding about taking my head, with all the blows aimed to take my horned skull or powder it.

I slammed the second strap into the locked position just before Gellar thrust his free blade at my chest. I responded by forcing my vertical block into a horizontal position, using my armored elbow to knock the blade up. If I hadn’t locked in the second strap, what would have met the thrust would have been a bare flesh and bone elbow. 

I brought the back of my armored fist up in a swing aimed for the Elf’s chin. Gellar leaped back, retracting both blades, and I released my shock bites right into his chest and gave him a dose of current. He locked up like a frozen cadaver and dropped his blades as I came to my feet.  

The next thing I knew, I found a greatsword cleaving through my cables. Gellar collapsed like a sack of meat, but I lost my shock bites, still latched onto his chest. I expanded and pulled free the Vekenna from the back of my catlar. I used the blade to draw a red line across the palm of my right hand, along my unarmored palm. Before the blood could even well up and spill from my wound, I found myself struck. Pain exploded up on my right side with a flare of light that danced at the edge of my vision. My body locked up with brief but sharp spasms in random muscle groups across my body. High voltage sucked, and irony made sure I was on the receiving end this time. The current cut off, and my body throbbed with a tingling pins and needles sensation as my muscles went limp all at once. My brain felt fried. I lost all awareness of where I was and what was going on. But I was brought back to reality violently when I found a heavy multi-bladed surface meeting my ribs at bone-cracking velocity. Sure enough, I felt ribs crack, skin and tissue split, and my body get hurtled at top speed. I had enough awareness to realize that Kesher struck me like a sports ball before I collided with a wall, and my vision filled with white static.

I felt the cold surface of the floor against my cheek, my head spinning like a mad disk, and I heard a very distant chuckle. All I wanted at that moment was for the pain to stop, for my chest to not feel so tight, and to sleep for a week. My eyelids fell, and I was ready to give up. I felt the rubber sole of a boot stomp down on my jaw. I felt my jawbone creek, then crack under the pressure and release a jolt of pain as I tasted blood.

As I started falling down the black hole of unconsciousness, an image flashed in my mind. My father’s bleeding body and a red skull masked man leaving with a strange black box. A familiar hate flared in my chest. The hate brought to mind other wrongs that had been done to me, Mallrimor at the forefront of my mind. I forced my eyes open to the sight of three figures looming over me and a large blade aimed at my neck. 

Breathing was agony, for that matter, everything was agony. But pain was nothing new. In fact, a day without some form of gash, bruise, puncture, or cracked bone was out of the ordinary. As soon as I felt the foot leave my face, I dragged myself to elbows and knees and shot a glare up at the bastards. My weighted gaze fell to the floor. I needed a way out and fast, but my brain was gooey tar, and I couldn’t help but notice a growing pool of blood beneath me. The blood was of sufficient quantity to have me worried. I saw the shadow of the blade rise, ready to fall at any moment.

So, I did the first thing that came to mind. I slapped my palm into the pool of blood and drew the tattered scraps of my thoughts together into a single cohesive desire. I pressed the needed runes and sigils into my mind and drew deep from my Mystwell. There was a part of me that knew that what I was about to do was insane. The drinking unicorn piss to gain powers kind of crazy. But that was a very distant part of me.

I drew six Vells of Distortion Myst, one Vell of Voltreonic Current Myst, and three Vells of Morphic Myst to alter my mind, clearing it and speeding up my cognition. Time slowed to a crawl, and my head began to tingle, but the effects would only last for a few moments. Normally, four Vells of Resonance Myst would be enough for a tier-two mental enhancement and get it to last for a solid minute, but my method was not the standard method, and I tweaked the use for a tier-three mental enhancement for only a few moments. 

The rising of the shadow of the blade came to a stop. I didn’t have to look to know the blade was at its zenith. I needed to hurry. I put two Vells of Water Myst to work, shifting the pool of blood. While the motion of the fluid looked slow to me, I was pushing it at a rapid rate that I could only pray would get where I needed it in time. I drew three Vells of Umbra Myst, two Vells of Distortion Myst, four Vells of Evlusion Kinetic Myst, and one Vell Morphic. As I finished the formula that I threw together on the fly, I tried to keep track of the downward arc of the blade aimed for my neck. I felt the mental enhancement slipping just as I triggered my spell.

The world wound back up to normal speed. The greatsword hurtled down at me. I fought the reflex to squeeze my eyes shut, partly because I needed to stay aware and partly because I wanted to watch all hell break loose. The blade was only just descending its arc when gray, purple, vermillion and black energy rippled across the blood, spreading from my hand at an unnatural rate. None of the thugs realized that they stood in my expanded crimson pool. But they learned rather quickly when the blood took on a black, gray, and orange-red hue and wound around their ankles.

The thick, strange-colored blood crawled up their legs with serpentine speed, latching onto each of them and draining their reflexes. This lasted only a second or two before the whole pool of blood erupted in a blast of raw kinetic energy that was distorted to be stronger than normal. What should've been one hundred foot-pounds of force was closer to one hundred seventy-five foot-pounds of force. 

I directed most of the blast towards my attackers, but I still found myself knocked straight up, striking the ceiling with my back. My side burst into a fresh wave of pain, but as I was pressed against the ceiling, I had an excellent view of the other four getting blasted up and back. They struck the upper half of the wall behind them, each with their own tone of resounding thuds. I collided with the floor with enough force to see stars for the third time in the past minute and a half.

Once my vision cleared, I hauled myself to my feet with an immense force of will. I hobbled my way over to the limp forms of the three dirtbags. Mallrimor was face down on the floor. I let out a high-pitched wheeze of pain as I tenderly knelt down to pluck a feather from his wing. My face contorted in pain as I pulled myself back up. Before I turned away, I spat a glob of bloody mucus onto the pigeon-winged ass, landing on his bare cheek. Even the act of spitting was excruciating. I limped my way to the elevator with a hand gingerly pressed against my weeping side that throbbed, the cracked ribs below the surface radiating a searing ache. I cursed under my breath the entire trip to the elevator and the entire ride down, too.

As the doors opened with a ding and I stepped into the training room, Thallos said, “Well, look who finally showed up for training?” in a sardonic tone with his back turned to me. But when Tessa and Rose turned to look at me, Rose’s eyes bulged in panic, and Tess gasped in shock. That forced my uncle to turn around with his arms crossed over his chest. When he noticed me, he only said one simple phrase, “Well, shit.” before Tess hurried over to me. Her action was just in time because the room was spinning, and the world was getting blurry. I made to meet the Gnomish girl halfway, but I staggered and fell to the floor.

Tess rushed to me and laid her hands on me the moment she was within arm’s reach of my side and staunched the bleeding with a few seconds of green-glowing hands. After a few seconds of some intense itching and tingling, she took me by the elbow and helped me to my feet as best she could. Once I was mostly under my own weight, she led me to the back wall as fast as she dared. She sat me down on a bench, drawing another wince and hiss of pain from my lips even as Rose and Thallos closed the distance at a frantic pace.

“What happened?!” Rose demanded, her fangs visible and fingers locked in claws, ready to rend.

“I’m guessing they caught you by surprise.” Thallos stated as if he was expecting me to look like this.

“No.” I sneered before spitting out another blob of blood to the side. It was an effort of will to form a single word with a cracked jaw. I held up a finger for patients as I had before, but this one wasn’t a taunt. I tapped my therra, stopped the recording, and activated a full body scan from the device. It wouldn’t be nearly as in-depth as the med-centers deep imaging devices, but I didn’t think I needed anything of that sort. 

As the scan finished, I flicked Tessa the results right before I flicked the video I had just captured to Rose and Thallos each. I watched Tess read over the results I sent her, and she listed them off, her tone rising with panic at each new injury. “Fractured jaw on the right side, two dislocated ribs, two cracked ribs, three snapped ribs, moderate organ bruising, severe lacerations all on the left side of the torso, and third-degree burns around a cauterized puncture on the right side! By the blackened crown Iver! What the hell happened?!”

I pointed to my jaw first, and she got my message. She held both sides of my jaw in a gentle grip that still brought a spark of pain before the green glow came back. After the itching stopped and she took her hands away from me, I shook my face and tested my jaw in over-exaggerated chewing motions. “Mallrimor and his batch of brutes jumped me on my way here.”

So, I explained what happened in intervals when the pain and itching were more tolerable. As I spoke, I could tell that Thallos and Rose were watching the video I sent, their gazes intense on what only each of them could see. Thallos finished first, his hand making the motion to close a window on his node even as he turned to me. “Not as good as I had hoped, but still a passable display.”

“Wait!” I started in outrage. “You knew this was going to happen?!”

“Well, of course, boy. I told them where to find you and gave them weapons and permission to attack.”

“WHAT!?” Rose and I snarled in tandem, Rose closing the distance as she exclaimed.

“I thought it necessary.” He said with an easy shrug of the shoulders and his hands held up in a pose that said, ‘What could I do?’. “This was part of your final exam. I’ve taken each of your most impressive actions per Vector and judged them as your final. It was to ensure that you were performing to my standards on the daily even when I wasn’t watching. What you just went through was a test to see how you could handle an ambush from multiple enemies, aware of what you could do.”

“So that was my final?”

“Whow!” came Rose. “If that was his final, I’m guessing that I’m getting expelled from your training.”

“Both of you relax. Iver, no, that was only half of your final. Rose, also no. You are not being expelled from my curriculum. You just have different circumstances than the horn-boy over there. Since you’re still recovering from Myst overdose, you won’t have a magic final.”

“And what?” I demanded. “That calamity I made back there was my magic final?” I threw an accusing hand toward the ceiling over the elevators. 

Thallos gave a mocking laugh with an abrupt end as he simply said, “No.” I was about to ask when he went on to elaborate. “If that sad excuse for a spell was for final, then I’d fail you outright. I’ll admit that you use enough elemental variety in the components of the spell, but it was just sloppy. Plain and simple. You threw it together in total desperation and even got yourself caught up in the blast.”

I was irked by his casual attitude as he claimed I would have failed. Maybe if I had known it was a test, I could have done better. For that matter, maybe if my head wasn’t in the executioner’s collar, I could have performed better. I was more than a little ticked off by my uncle’s use of others’ desire to kill me as a tool for testing. He acted like putting my life on the line was normal.

“Alright,” I said through gritted teeth. “Then what is my magic final?”

“Simple. Both of you will try to incapacitate me. This is a test on teamwork, but there are a couple of catches.”

“Catches?”

“First,” he held up a single finger before aiming it at my nose, “boy, you will need to use at least one spell of no less than three elemental components. The runic spell formula must also be crisp and clear. All of this needs to be done while trying to put my face in the dirt. Second,” He retracted his accusatory finger and raised a second finger to follow in his statement. “You both have five minutes to take me down while working together. If you haven’t held me in submission for a ten count by then, this will turn into a three-way dual. It’s every warrior for themselves. Should one of you subdue the other for a ten count, that will count as a point in your favor, and the loser will need to sit out. Should either one of you manage to take me down, that will count as three points.” He turned and walked away with his hands clasped behind his back. After five steps, he turned his head to speak back to us, his stride unwavering. “Oh, and one last twist. I will be using my magic.”

I had wondered since I first met him if Thallos could use magic. He never used it in front of me and only taught me the most fundamental concepts on the topic. What was his focus? That would tell me what type of caster he was. I’d never seen him with a staff, wand, or charm. Did he have runic bracers hidden somewhere? 

“Healer, if you’d be so kind as to give Mr. Thorntail over there some hemo-pills.” Thallos off-handedly gestured toward me. “I have no doubt that the boy needs to replenish the blood in his body before he faints mid-match.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Tessa stammered. “Would you say this is a need for one or two pills?”

“Having seen the wounds and the amount of blood lost during the fight, I’d say it’s only a need for one. You have them on hand like I asked?”

“Yes, sir, in my bag.” Tess hurried over to her navy blue training bag and rifled through it before pulling out a small rectangular metal box. She pulled the hinged lid open to reveal two rows of pills that glowed with a swirling red fluid. Each pill was nestled neatly in a gray foam cutout. She plucked a single pill free of the container before she replaced the container and produced a bottle of water. She offered me both, and I dutifully took them. I popped the pill in my mouth and chased it with a much-needed swig of water.

The effect was almost instantaneous: a spreading warmth from my core reaching out to every limb, quickly followed up by a tingling, not unlike when Tessa healed me. However, rather than an itching, it was paired with a sensation of pressure from within pressing out. 

I’d never had a need for these pills. No matter how grievous the wound Thallos gave me, Tessa was always on the balls of her feet, ready to rush in before too much of my life juice was squeezed from me.

Thallos stopped ten paces from the center of the room, crisply turned on his heel to face us, then fell into a lacks slouch, hands in his pants pockets. “Boy, I assume you drained your Mystwell for that stunt you pulled. How goes the refill?”

I pulled up my body readings on my therra and checked the readout. “I’m at about six of thirteen.”

“I’ll give you ten minutes to recoup the rest of your Vells and ensure that the pill has worn off.”