Chapter forty-two
On our way back to the city, I pause. “Huh… I had a thought. That girl from earlier. Anri. She said she was a Puppeteer, right? Do you think she did this? Trying to lure me back out of the city?”
A voice come from above. “Clever, Skyborne!” I dive in front of Asteria, my shield coming up, as an impact slams into the surface. “Tch… just give me that fucking SWORD, you bitch!”
I slam my shield forward, activating Sky Hammer. With an “Ack!” Anri goes tumbling, spitting in irritation. Another voice comes from behind us.
“I told you that wouldn’t work.” Asteria’s reply comes from over my shoulder. “Oh, hello. You’re that dumbass who challenged me back in Tillberry, and tried to kill Kettrin twice in that dungeon. Rollo? Richard? Something like that?”
“RANDY!” I can hear him snarl.
I murmur, “Astie, which of these two do you want to take on? I’m okay with either, but I don’t know whether they’re alone, or if they have more hiding…”
“We’ll deal with this later. I think Reginald wants to fight ME, so I’ll take Anri off your hands. You can handle Rupert, okay?”
I murmur to Astie, “good choice. Why should we give them what they want?”
“Yep! This is why I love you!” she flips over my head as I whirl to face Randy. I smile.
“Good afternoon, Roger. Are you still salty about getting your dark-and-broody ass beaten?”
“Oh, don’t you start with that shit! You KNOW my name, and YEAH I’m still pissed. You keep cheating, you bitch!”
I can hear Astie trading quips with Anri, the other girl having a proper spitting fit at my apparent refusal to give her what she’s demanding.
I focus back on Randy and his clear intent to start another scrap. “Sooooo, Rudy, what’s crawled up your butt and given you a proctology exam THIS time? Is it lead in the water pipes, Cartesian dualism, Mumm-Ra the All-powerful, or stubbing your toe on the coffee table?”
He blinks, frowning. “The fuck’re you on about? I want a rematch, and I’m sick of your shit. All you do is to make yourself look good, you’re shit at this game and I’m onto you!”
I roll my eyes. “Ohhh, I get it now. You’re a sore loser as well as a sore winner. Look, Rhett, I’m not TRYING to make myself ‘look good’. I’m just playing a fun game and somehow making a living doing it. YOU, on the other hand, are just an arse. You might have SOME skill, but me not letting you beat me because I have too much self-respect to lay back and gargle your nads? That’s your problem, Rowan!”
Randy splutters in rage, reaching over his shoulder to draw an obscenely-oversized battleaxe. “SHUT THE FUCK UUUUPPPPPP!”
He ignites the blades, bringing it down and launching a wave of fire in my direction. I block, my shield buffeted by a rush of searing wind, before I thrust my swordspear forwards, diving in to beat at Randy’s face.
He swears, and my attack fails to make contact. I wasn’t expecting it to, since my spear had been a fake-out, bringing my knee up and slamming it into his crotch. He lets out a satisfyingly high-pitched squawk, and I beat my wings to hop back, making sure to kick him in the chin as he folds downwards.
I can hear a chain-reaction of muffled explosions going off behind me, as Asteria does what she does best, Anri’s swearing growing more intense. Randy levers himself upright, glaring at me, a crazed look in his eyes.
“That… was a low blow….” He snarls, his voice several octaves higher than before. I blow a raspberry at him.
“Ah, shut your piehole, Raymond. And quit trying to pick fights with me, or I’ll ensure you sing falsetto for a week!”
As Randy brings his axe round, stumbling into a charge, I flap my wings, using them to vault over him, slashing with my swordspear, as he tries to reach me. Hovering overhead, I focus on thrusting and jabbing, trying to distract him, waiting for him to leave himself open to another counterattack.
“Get! Down! Here!” he roars, swinging wildly at me with that immense axe, flames licking over the blades as he lashes out. I make sure to stay just out of range.
“And why would I do that? If I did come down there, you’d just hit me! I remember the stunt you pulled with that electric crystal powder in the dungeon!”
“SHUT THE HELL UP! Using your enemy’s weaknesses against them isn’t cheating!”
“So me flying is fine, then. You can’t fly, which is a weakness, so there!” I shove my hand into a pouch at my waist. I have some stale bread left over from lunch a couple days ago. Time to fake him out!
Pulling the dried-out, stale bread from my pouch, I make sure he sees it, before I crush it into dust, allowing it to drizzle onto the flat of my blade, secretly activating Kamaitachi. Randy’s eyes narrow.
“What was that!? You did something to that dumb-looking spear!”
I smirk. “Remember that lightning crystal? Seriously, you are NOT on the ball today!”
Swearing, as usual, Randy backs up. I press my brief window of opportunity, lunging. His axeblade tries to turn my spear-point away, but the wind forces his weapon back and aside. With a swipe that looks like it missed, Randy’s armoured jerkin splits, blood spurting from the sudden, inexplicable wound.
“Gah! Fuck, that stings! The hell did you do, bitch?!”
I simply grin at him. “Oh, that hit you? I thought for sure you’d blocked it!” I slash and stab again and again, opening several more gashes in Randy’s armour as he yelps and squeals at the sudden onset of damage. His HP must be dropping, since I can see a hint of panic entering his face.
I keep airborne, sneaking a glance at Asteria. She’s definitely holding her own, but I don’t like the gleam in Anri’s eyes as she prepares something. I shout, “Astie! Make a smoke cloud!”
She doesn’t hesitate, raising her hand and summoning a thick fogbank, as I dive down, wrapping my arms around her waist and carefully yank her into the air, heading for Vassim as fast as I can go without losing my grip on the Alv woman in my arms. Several crossbow bolts whisk up towards me, followed by a brace of throwing daggers.
“What?! Wait, why are we running? We could win, right?”
I squeeze her gently. “I don’t want to waste time on them, and they ambushed us. Getting away is going to piss them off more than just kicking their asses, and I think we should pick and choose when and where we take them on. I DOUBT this is the last time we’ve seen them…”
Asteria’s arms loop around my shoulders. “I see your point… Still, I almost had her! I’m totally going to kick her teeth in next time!” I giggle, descending as I head for the outskirts of Vassim, my wings beating swiftly.
A short time later, I halt in midair, holding Asteria close. “Wait, what’s going on? Look, the plaza down there!”
Beneath us, the Central courtyard is packed with people, even to the balconies and rooftops of the surrounding buildings. An Andromal player, his huge batwings flexing, pauses.
“Some kind of in-game plot event! They want everyone to show up! Didn’t you know?!”
I shake my head, and the Andromal rolls his eyes. “Get a move on, you won’t get a space otherwise!”
I shrug, angling myself downwards, looking for a space large enough to let me land and set my girlfriend down. Once I’ve found one, we stand together on a rooftop, watching the events unfolding below.
A raised dais, fronted with a set of stairs, large enough to hold a podium, as well as several large thrones, stands in the centre of the piazza. It looks like it wasn’t there before. Pillars of light burst into existence, fading out to reveal figures, each one distinct and different, now sitting in those thrones, as well as a couple whose body types prevent them from using such humane seating.
At the front of the dais, an elderly figure stands. “I bid you all welcome, Argonauts!” he speaks, and we can hear him clearly over the din. Everyone falls silent.
“Now, you have spent some time in our city, and walked among its people. You have slain monsters, delved into dungeons, and travelled vast distances. You, who were called to this world… are now called again, to form allegiances with the Lords of our world, our gods and deities. Each of them has selected their favoured champions from amongst your ranks, and requests that you decide whether or not to accept their invitation. Now, we stand before the first of our Lords, Nyxeah, Lord of Sea and Sky!”
A woman with pale, moonkissed skin and dark indigo hair dusted with twinkling points of light that wink and glimmer, her eyes the colour of the deepest ocean, her body clad in a seafoam dress, embroidered with pearls. She steps up to the podium as the elderly man shuffles aside to let her take his place. She opens her mouth and starts to sing.
“I, the Lord of sea and sky,
I have heard my people cry.
All who dwell in deepest sin
My hand will save.
I who made the stars of night,
I will make their darkness bright.
Who will bear my light to them?
Whom shall I send?”
Throughout the crowd, I see people making their way forwards, climbing the stairs and lining up before Lord Nyxeah. They kneel, and sing in response.
“Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.”
As Lord Nyxeah smiles and gestures, they rise and follow her to her throne, surrounding her as she begins quietly conversing with each. The next Lord steps forwards as the old man announces, “Chillianne, Lord of Snow and Rain!” As she takes her place at the podium, everyone gasps. Her hair is deep, coniferous green, with ice
"I, the Lord of snow and rain,
I have borne my people's pain.
I have wept for love of them.
They turn away.
I will break their hearts of stone,
Give them hearts for love alone.
I will speak my word to them,
Whom shall I send?"
More players step forth from the crowd, mounting the dais and kneeling, responding with the same chorus.
“Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.”
Next, a familiar-looking centaur, skin and fur as black as onyx, with glowing cracks running over his entire body like lava veins. Almost a dozen feet tall, his burning crimson eyes holding nothing but warmth and kindness. His hair and tail are smoke, hazy cloud-like drifts that seem to stir in a non-existent breeze. His hooves leave gently-steaming prints on the stone. The elderly announcer calls, “Furnacio, Lord of Wind and Flame!”
In a warm, rich baritone, Furnacio’s voice rings out over the silent courtyard, his arms spread as he booms out,
“I, the Lord of wind and flame,
I will tend the poor and lame.
I will set a feast for them.
My hand will save.
Finest bread I will provide
Till their hearts be satisfied.
I will give my life to them.
Whom shall I send?”
Asteria’s back glows as she uses her Faeflight spell, rainbow butterfly wings blooming forth as she leaps off the rooftop, fluttering down towards the stage, as I spot Ulged and a good number of other Argonauts making their way through the dwindling crowd to flank their new Lord.
“Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.”
Finally, a figure I’ve been waiting for stands from the throne she’s been reclining on, stepping forwards and taking her place at the podium. Her twisted, blackened horns crackling with electrical fuzz, her blue-white skin marked with curving black tattoos, Voltesse takes centre-stage.
“I, the Lord of storm and gale,
I have felt my people quail!
I will be a shield for them,
My hand will save!
I, who made the spark of life,
I will ease my people’s strife!
Who will wield my might for them?
Whom shall I send?”
I feel a tug in my chest, and flare my own wings, taking off and steadily gliding towards the dais, landing right in front of Voltesse, noting her pleased smile. A female Vulpa with a massive sword takes a place on my right, followed by several dozen more people, a group almost as large as Nyxeah’s, Chillianne’s, or Furnacio’s. Furling my wings, I kneel, and raise my voice in response, along with the rest.
“Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.”
As she beckons, the whole lot of us step forwards, surrounding Voltesse’s throne as she retakes her seat. Finally, the last seated figure stands, shuffling forwards the podium with soft clicking, creaking noises.
At the lectern, a skeleton stands, clad in moth-eaten black furs and robes, empty eye-sockets containing twin glowing pinpricks of light, a gnarled, warped wooden staff clutched in one bony hand. The announcer clears his throat. “Elif Thade, Lord of life and death!”
The skeleton’s jaw sags open, and a surprisingly melodic, gentle voice, almost like a lullaby, fills the air.
“I, the Lord of life and death,
I have heard each waning breath!
All who fear the fading light,
My arms embrace!
I, who soothe each troubled heart,
Of all who’ve played their final part,
Who will bear my peace to them?
Whom shall I send?”
The remaining Argonauts, at least, those I can still see, step forwards, and I gasp as I spot Harvenhaight among them, the whole lot of them kneeling, as the skeletal deity leans on his staff.
“Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.”
With the ceremony ended, Voltesse looks around at me, the Vulpa girl, and the rest of the group; she smirks, and snaps her fingers, a flare of lightning blinding me for an instant. When my vision returns, we’re somewhere else. A huge, ornate room carved volcanic rock, panelled with lightning-stuck wood.
A long rectangular table and chairs takes up the centre of the great hall, and Voltesse takes her seat at the head of the table. She claps her hands. “Okay, everyone, take a seat, and let’s get to know one another…”