Enmity of Atlas

This victory, no matter how carnal, no matter how bloody, meant that he and Leo would live to see another day. Leo! Trenton’s mind suddenly locked into place on the reason he was so intent to kill the man in the first place. He staggered wildly through the city, weaving in between alleyways to get back to the burning district, to get back to where Leo was. It wasn’t far, thankfully. Trenton was able to end the fight just a little ways away. But every moment counted. Trenton kneeled next to Leo’s body, pale and broken, and listened. It was faint, but he could hear Leo’s heart beating. He was still alive, if only barely.

Trenton gingerly picked up Leo’s body, doing his best to support him with only one arm. Around him, fresh drops of water graced the earth, the start of a rainstorm, which was quickly picking up speed. Good, the fires would see themselves doused without his intervention. At least he wouldn't have to feel guilty leaving the destruction behind, not that he really even had the mind to think of anything other than his destination right now. Slowly, ever so slowly, Trenton limped his way forward, carrying Leo away from the fire, two thick trails of blood following in their wake. It took everything Trenton had to keep himself conscious, his vision fading in and out with every step.

As he staggered through the less damaged city streets, Trenton noticed what the man must’ve been talking about in his insane speech earlier. Lining the city streets were hundreds of soldiers, each one with their head tilted all the way back, their eyes closed and their arms limp. They all stood stock still, completely unmoving, some of them faintly snoring. They were sleeping. Whatever spell was cast, it looked like it had put everyone in the area to sleep, but there was no telling how far it had spread. It could’ve just been this section of the city; however, there was also a possibility, a slim possibility, that this was the work of a zenith cast, its retiform grid spreading over the entirety of the city. If that were the case, then it’s no wonder Walibeld would be so freaked out. That would place the perpetrator on the same level as Walibeld himself.

“Trenton! Leo! Are you-” Millie burst out of a side street to join them, her entire body locking in place when she saw them. She screamed, her shrill voice piercing the very heavens. Her body collapsed onto the ground, suddenly stricken with an involuntary fit of shakes, which wracked her body.

“Millie…not far…friend…follow,” Trenton said between heaves, starting to stagger forward again.

Millie hesitated, her eyes darting around for any possible way to help, but she was out of options. She simply sat there, her entire body quaking from her sobs. Trenton looked down at her slumped form, his eyes listless and drooping. Balancing Leo over his right shoulder, Trenton grabbed Millie by the hem of her shirt, lugging her along with him. They couldn’t afford to slow down. Everyone’s lives depended on him getting to his destination. Still stumbling, barely managing to hold onto everyone, Trenton dragged them through the streets, navigating using the vague instructions his father gave him many years ago.

Finally, when he felt as if his feet could move no further, and his body would last no longer, he had arrived. In front of him was a grand manor, the likes of which would’ve rivaled even the Boulreguard household when it still stood. This was the house of an old family friend, Olin. Peering through the windows, Trenton could still see the lights were on. Hopefully Olin hadn't been put to sleep by the spell. They needed his help. Trenton stepped up to the door, setting Millie down and making to turn the doorknob. However, the moment he attempted the complex movement, the world went dark. His entire body slamming against the door as he fell forward.

Wake

Trenton bolted upright. It was day, the light of a morning sun streaming in through the softly drawn curtains. Next to Trenton, a woman nearly toppled backwards, her eyes wide with fear.

“Gods, boy! You’re going to give me a heart attack at this rate!” She shouted out.

Trenton looked over at her numbly. Just like always, his entire body was healed, no sign that the night's battle had ever even occurred left anywhere on him. However, his mind was still clouded with an odd fog, a sense that something was wrong, that wouldn’t quite go away. It felt odd, unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Was it a result of the healing? Maybe.

He looked around the room, taking in the scene before him. The room was rather grand, much like his own bedroom, with fancy drapes and carpets adorning the wall and floor. The bed he was sitting on was plush and large, unbelievably comfortable. It couldn’t be smaller than a king size.

“Who are you?” Trenton asked, still trying to reign in his senses.

The woman sighed, looking him up and down forlornly, “Names Peya. We heard you lot last night when you knocked against the door. It wasn’t easy, but we managed to stabilize the other boy. A couple druids are with him right now still tending to his wounds. Initially we were worried one of you would die, we didn’t have enough hands to give both of you proper care immediately, but somehow you just up and healed on your own. Honestly, I’m at a loss. If you have an explanation, I’d love to hear it.”

“No, I don’t. It’s a recent occurrence, though.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured. Anyway, the redhead is doing fine. The only thing is…we can’t fix his arm without his hand, so he’ll have to learn to live without it. We might be able to get a prosthetic from Era, but that’d take a while.”

“Oh, right,” Trenton said, suddenly materializing Leo’s severed hand still holding the sword. It was still incredibly fresh, as if it had just been severed, which also meant that the moment he pulled it out, it began to spew out blood all over the bed sheets.

“Sorry,” Trenton said dumbly, prying away the longsword and holding the hand out to her.

She violently recoiled, pressing her back against the wall some 10 feet away, “Is that…his hand?”

“Yes.”

She was a nature mage, so she should have no problem with viscera, but Trenton also did just pull a freshly bleeding hand out of thin air, so really it’s not her fault. Trenton looked at the hand, inspecting it closely. Just as he thought, it was still incredibly fresh, the same condition as when he first stored it. Interesting. Trenton figured his storage must’ve made use of both time and spatial magic, then. Most deep pockets only use spatial magic as forging items with multiple types of magic was incredibly difficult, requiring a master craftsman and mage. But whoever made his was clearly incredibly talented. By this point, Trenton figured that the necklace was probably where the items were stored, even though its gem was rather small. It was unconventional storage, to say the least, and of a type he’d never seen before, but it was certainly useful. It was far quicker to use than a regular deep pocket, and saved him the headache of organizing his subspace. The only thing, though, was how much it could hold. Without being able to look into the subspace, he had no way of seeing how big it was, which meant he’d have to manually test it at some point.

The woman moved forward, quickly overcoming her sudden shock to do her job. She took the hand, grabbing a swaddle of bandages on the bedside table to stem the blood as she sprinted out of the room. Trenton leapt out of bed, taking care not to slip on the blood on the ground. Leo’s blood not only all over the bed, but his legs and waist as well, soaked deep into clothes he didn’t recognize. They must’ve washed and clothed him while he slept. An invasion of privacy? Probably not. He was dying, after all. Trenton’s feet pounded on the wooden floorboards as he chased after the women, following her through the twisting hallways and into another room very similar to his own.

“I’VE GOT HIS HAND!” The women yelled, barreling through the half dozen druids surrounding Leo.

Leo was laying in the center of the room, the many druids attending to his war torn body as he lay there, pale and quivering. He looked absolutely awful. By now, the druids had managed to close most of the worst cuts, but it was still a grim sight. At least 4 new massive gashes had appeared across his body, wounds that were likely to leave nasty scars. It seemed even with 6 or so druids working through the night, they were still struggling to fix him. But, he was still alive, and that was more than enough. Plus, now that he was receiving proper care, Leo’s infection was nowhere to be seen, a nice twist on the otherwise horrible turn of events they’d been dealt.

“Trenton!” Millie pulled her teary eyes away from where Leo lay.

She leapt at Trenton, embracing him in a tight hug. Holding her close to his chest, she began to break down, soaking Trenton’s thin shirt with her tears. What an awful first experience for her. Not even two weeks after setting out onto the plains she was subject to a massacre, and had to witness firsthand Trenton’s mutilated body. Even Trenton barely scraped himself together after Aria, and he was nearly twice Millie’s age. Trenton comforted her, stroking the back of her head, ignoring how wet her hair made his hand. Walibeld leaned against the far wall, coldly watching Leo, his left eye shut tight. He glanced towards Trenton, his expression never changing.

“What happened?” Walibeld asked.

Trenton quickly recounted what happened, plugging Millie’s ears with his hands as he went over all the graphic details. The druids, all of whom stood huddled around Leo’s right side, preparing to reattach his arm, turned for a moment, looking up at Trenton with a mix of awe and horror. Walibeld was quiet for a moment, his head tilted towards the sky.

“A blood crazed. I should have realized,” Walibeld said finally.

“Why? Do you know something?” Trenton asked.

“No, but I have a guess. Last night, I went to chase down the source of the spell. It originated from the castle so far as I could tell, but by the time I got there, whoever did it was gone. It seemed their only goal was to talk to the duke. There wasn’t even a fight. I tried pressing him for information, but he wouldn’t say exactly what happened; so, I can only guess. I figure the spell was some sort of lulling effect, an instantaneous cast which puts everyone in a large area to sleep. If it lasted over any duration then you two would have been put to sleep when we arrived,” Walibeld said.

“Not everyone. It couldn’t be everyone. The blood crazed man was still awake,” Trenton retorted.

“Correct. Do you actually know what a blood craze is? I don’t recall ever explaining it in much depth.”

Trenton shook his head, “No, not really.”

Walibeld ran his hand through his hair, sitting down and sighing, “It’s not precise by any means, but when a human without magic experiences a graphic enough tragedy, they can be afflicted with what’s known as a blood craze. It’s an affliction which allows one to boil their own blood, significantly increasing their physical strength for a short time. It’s a special type of enhancement magic and a really strong one at that. Only, it comes at a cost. When in this state, a blood craze, their own blood will begin to seep through their skin, and they’ll be placed into a mad delirium where all they can do is kill and savage others. As you might imagine, with how much blood seeps out of their skin, as well as the blood in their body being brought to a violent rolling boil, a blood crazed risks dying should they have the state active for long enough. That man last night, was there ever a point where he suddenly slowed down?”

“Yeah, right towards the end.”

“That would be because he slipped out of his craze, likely accidentally. It’s not an easy state to remain in for long periods of time. Their body’s will intuitively end the state to keep themselves alive after enough time has passed, but it’s also possible to push through this limiter. The man you were fighting was likely far beyond his breaking point by the end of the fight, which is why he was unable to resist properly.”

“What does that have to do with him still being awake?”

“Right. The blood crazed condition is unique to other enhancement magics because of its effects on the mind. On one hand, it constricts the free will of the person. But on the other hand, it makes them nearly immune to most any charming effect. It’s a give and take. In this case, the sleep spell, likely because of how thin it was spread, wasn’t able to put that man to sleep even though he was rather weak in comparison to the caster. Similarly, the mages in this household were strong enough to resist the effect, partly because of the protective runes dampening the effects. Otherwise it-” Walibled stopped, looking over at Leo, his thought completely lost.

It looked like they were finally ready to reattach his arm