Icarus Awakens

Daniel was ambushed a third time that day as they reached the main road after an uneasy truce was formed. Gordon and Qess looked like they wanted to run off, deciding to stay out of stubbornness more than anything. Even if they weren’t in control, keeping eyes on Daniel and Hunter was still the best way they could think of to help the city aside from going and fighting the first monster they saw. Which, come to think of it, for a city under siege there was an apparent lack of heartless monsters.

Then, the ambush. Daniel took three steps onto the main road before, coming out of the sand and throwing out her arms was, “Evalyn!?” The Bard committed to the sneak attack, gripping him in the least painful hold he’d been in all day. The mood changed when he saw who was following her. Willow, Marky, and Taloran. In Arpan’s place though was somehow Ornithar. “Toy guy?” He asked blankly.

“I was teleported into his shop after we tried to get you,” she explained. “We were trying to make it to the Spires when we ran into those assholes. They said they’d ‘scout ahead for danger’ and then just left us waiting in a random building. Eventually, I decided to go after them and found these two harassing a young woman.” None of the team answered the insults.

“How did you even find us?” Evalyn looked at Ornithar, who started.

“I, uhm, may have neglected to mention I can sense where some of my higher-end models are for a certain time after they leave my possession. It’s mostly for theft prevention.” The old avianoid looked slightly abashed by the confession. “I didn’t think it would be useful until this young lady reminded me of your recent purchase. I’m a little surprised you haven’t imprinted them yet.”

“The ornithopters? They’re in my bag of holding.”

“And?”

Daniel took in the fact that there was a depth to economic powers even he hadn’t thought of before someone else took over the conversation. Somewhat painfully, as no one and no power had healed him. “Marky, Taloran, we’re beat. Don’t try anything now. Think of the end run.” That was probably a code, but no one did anything so Daniel relaxed.

“What are those for anyways?” Evalyn asked, as the group took stock and got their bearings.

“You remember how I can prototype something and get the formulae for a real version later?”

“How you can cheat, yes,” she nodded.

“It’s not cheating. It’s an exploit at best. And, these are for you.” He pulled out the finished construction from the bag. “They’re probably not helpful now, but I may as well give them to you.”

Evalyn eyed the strange things with some hesitation. If you squinted, they almost looked like shoes. “I’m guessing I’m supposed to wear them?”

“Winged boots.” Daniel took out a knife and started carving something into the underside of each ornithopter. Her name.

“I don’t think two of those could support my weight.”

“Even though there isn’t that much to support?” Daniel ventured, wary of a trap. “It’s fine. The ornithopters aren’t the wings. I made small lightning wings out of the last of my heliorite. Together with the anti-gravity of the ornithopters, it should let you get up to a good height and hover, instead of drift down.” He shuffled awkwardly as he handed them to her. The assemblage was a bit sketchy, and he doubted they’d survive a hit in battle.

“You started making these before we went up to the Eye.” The two fell behind as the others, through group agreement, made for the Spires. Gadriel seemed to sense something and told the others they would catch up.

“Yeah.” Daniel shrugged. “I’m not just going to scrap the project because you asked me hard questions.” He looked at the people vanishing into the storm before turning back. “Besides, it makes sense to give you the flying item. When I can refine these I’ll give you a proper set. I basically just stuck random parts from other common monsters here hoping that I only need one to give me the formulae later, so there’s a good chance it won’t take that long.”

“There’s a bunch of random monster parts in these and you want me to wear them?” Evalyn asked in mock affront.

“Yes? Did I mention they can make you fly? At least, I think they can. I haven’t tested it but if Tak could control one with his hand you should be able to with your feet while you’re in the air.”

“So, not the sort of thing to try out in the middle of this,” she observed, gesturing broadly at the sandstorm. Then, she dropped the act. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Daniel breathed in, still mentally catching up to the situation and grimacing at what his weak seventh sense was telling him. “I wish I didn’t keep running out of mana during all the bad stuff.”

Evalyn looked confused at that. “Did they take your potions?”

“My-” Daniel froze, and then slumped against a wall.

“You forgot about your potions, didn’t you?” She laughed. “The first thing I did when we heard you were in trouble was drink a mana potion. Do you want one of mine?”

“No. I’ll just try and drink one without getting too much sand in it.” He pulled out a potion he now remembered was in his bag of holding, which had mercifully survived everything that had happened to him. Only two mana potions and two health potions. “I should have bought more.”

Halfway through the memory of the Alchemist who’d made it came unbidden in his mind and he nearly replicated her unique way of brewing. Coughing, he finished it and stood up. “You alright?” Evalyn asked.

“Yeah, I just almost died again. I do feel better though.” It wasn’t a simple thing to drink a full potion outright. The total volume was around a quarter of a liter. Once it was finished, there was a sense of restoration that didn’t entirely go away. Daniel spoke softly to the air. “I’m guessing you can’t tell me exactly how much mana I just got back? Maybe as a percentage? Give me something out of a hundred.” His phone didn’t vibrate, which meant Earth-Daniel was unable or unwilling to answer. Oh well. At least for this major catastrophe he was better prepared and with his friends. Once they got back to the Spires, they could take the fight to the enemy. Everything was going to be fine.

…

The closing of the siege ward around the Spires didn’t immediately usher in the final plan. There was a delay, a calculated one, to allow anger and fear to build up in the crowds before the end. While this served the ends of Casia’s ilk, it had also narrowly allowed Tak’s small group to bypass the threat that had spilled out of alleyways and side streets, now marching inexorably towards the Sun Spire.

Oh, there were crowds that could have been targeted at any Spire. Choosing all of them would have defeated the purpose. All that was needed was an example, a push. One last straw. A second army, no, a third counting the district of duskers that had been risen to incite panic and push people into the trap.

Guards from the main watchhouse. Taken at shift change, when you’d think would be the worst time to hit them. Unless you didn’t fear mortal weapons and wanted to take as much as you could get. They’d been alive, if you could call it that, for long enough to return to a semblance of basic competence. Not fully restored into the training and experience the former city guard had, but they were all armed and pointed towards mostly defenseless, scared people.

Only one person saw them coming.

…

Watch Sergeant Doran’s skin was prickling. He, Vascott, and Martin were holding with the two hunters at the rear of the crowds. They were mostly screening people coming in, looking for both injuries and news. Not as many were coming in, which was either a good or a bad sign. The fact that the newer ones didn’t report seeing a monster, only hearing about one and coming here for shelter, was encouraging.

Khiat and, he assumed, the gestalt were more anxious. They’d seen one of their friends through the storm. While making their way to each other, however, the other had suddenly run off. With no way to track the avianiod, the dusker had come back to him instead. Honestly, with a bow that large he didn’t begrudge her presence. If not for the fact that her race wasn’t suited for his all-day team, he’d consider trying to recruit her. Torch knew they needed everyone they could get after tonight.

“Doran. Movement.” Vascott hastily spat out some leaves he’d snuck behind his filter mask as his second subordinate sighted something through the sandstorm. You could get about three meters of clear visibility in them, at least Doran could with his levels, but every so often the winds would shift just so to allow for a look at something farther. Doran thought this was like how lightning worked during a storm at night, but he’d never been to the Thormundz before its fall.

The multi-classed sergeant focused on the direction Martin indicated, straining for anything distinguishable. He had Identify Creature, a very useful power in his line of work which was wholly unaffected by the freak sandstorm. Khiat had mentioned telepathy was being blocked somehow, though however this was being done wasn’t shutting down everything. The power was relatively easy to use and could even be heightened by his level in Martialist despite the fact that it originated from his faith in the Torch. If you asked him, there was a lot of things people assumed or just didn’t know about multi-classing.

His eyes caught a reflection of metal in the distance, just making it out as a breastplate. That was enough as a colored outline framed the figure. Doran swore though Vascott commented first. “That’s not teal boss.”

“‘S black,” Martin added.

“Shit. Who are they?”

Doran didn’t answer, partly because his feature didn’t reveal this individual’s name, but also because there was something unmistakable about the gait. They were marching. “This is going to be a slaughter. Martin, run up to the front and tell the guard there to stop being useless defending a door forged closed and get up here. I don’t care about their loyalties, they’re not about to use civilians as a shield.”

“On it!”

Martin began to struggle his way through the crowd, though Doran was still dismayed at their prospects. “It’s why no one’s reported seeing anything. They’ve been forming up to hit us. Damn, but we don’t have control over this crowd.” If it were up to him, he’d funnel everyone to the courtyard between the Spires and under the Eye. The Shroud could extend there, it could go anywhere within a certain distance of the towers and was nigh unbreakable to mortal strength. If the Council wasn’t so damned concerned about themselves, then what little they had to defend the city with could focus without worrying about casualties.

The two hunters had drawn weapons, the gestalt taking a strange form that was like an amalgamation of plant and human he’d never seen before. He had to say, as a Martialist, that the gestalt seemed far more proficient now than when they’d been a dense ball of vines and knives. No matter how dexterous the tendril-like appendages were, actual hands offered far more control. Doran made a decision.

“You two, we’re about to be deep in the dunes and I doubt your people will be here soon. I am formally offering to deputize you under my authority.”

Khiat looked hesitant. “I already have a team.”

“It’s just temporary. You in?”

The gestalt of all people spoke first, in their simple way. “Yes.” Khiat looked between the two, then nodded at Doran.

“Well then, welcome to HURT. Don’t let it be said it doesn’t come with benefits. I’m a level 2 Martialist/Cleric of Torch.” With an effort of will, he extended one of his powers. “This is Squad Sight. See the enemy down the road? That’s probably their front rank.” He pointed to the black outline, indicating hostility, orienting the two new recruits to his power. As a limited designate ability, Squad Sight allowed Doran to share visual powers with those under his command. That currently just affected Identify Creature, though it was a potent extension nonetheless. He was about to explain the different colors when he saw something that had never happened before.

There was an orange wedge pointing down at the distant enemy, gently floating up and down. A few seconds later, another appeared in the far, far distance. It was too small to make out, Doran only knowing it was there because whatever power this was gave him a mental indication. “What is that?” he asked Khiat, though there was only confusion in the pattern on her face. Another wedge appeared, far closer. “You?”

“Daniel,” the gestalt replied with relief.

“Oh! This is their marking power,” Khiat explained. “I didn’t think we could see it. Khare, they found Daniel!”

…

“Damn it,” Daniel randomly exclaimed as they were making their way to the Spires. He tried not to meet Evalyn’s eyes as he explained, “I forgot about something else too. Looks like Khare’s already at the Spires.”

…

Doran was musing about how to use the gestalt’s power as a communication tool when the enemies he’d marked broke into a sprint. “They’re coming. Khiat, weapons loose.”

“You want me to drop my bow?”

He winced. “No, sorry. Start firing, they’re in range and getting closer.” Still, she hesitated, though now Doran had a better inkling of why.

She spoke in a small voice, for all she towered over them. “I don’t want to kill people.”

“Those aren’t people. That’s an army, probably the Mirage, and tonight they unleashed monsters that caused countless deaths. If they get here it’s going to be slaughter. It probably will be no matter what we do,” Doran said evenly, not hiding the truth. “I’ve had to make this choice too. No, it’s not our choice, it’s theirs. These people are putting innocents in harm’s way for their own gain. We are the only ones standing in their way, the only ones with the power to stop them. No one wants to do this, but take a look behind you and tell me there isn’t a reason to fight.”

Khiat turned and saw through the storm hundreds of scared people, now pressing against and threatening to overwhelm the Knight still maintaining the barrier. There’d been no sign Martin had gotten the message across yet. She looked at the bow in her hands and knew, even without the poisonous power in her mind, that someone without a level would die if she hit them. She had been terrified at that prospect before because of what it would change her into.

Now, with the Assassin class gone and steps walked down the road of recovery, she found resolve to act. Not because it was what her class forced her to do, or because she would gain, but to protect those less fortunate with the blessings the Octyrrum had given her. Surely, if that was her motivation, she wouldn’t return to what she’d been.

Despite not having ever trained to use the outline from Identify Creature as a target, Khiat had hunted long enough with the as yet unnamed team to improve her archery beyond what she’d already accomplished. “They’re really evil?”

“The auras are completely black,” Doran observed. “My power indicates general intent. They’re here to kill and are moving fast. My guys will be in range soon. Are you with me?”

The dusker took in another breath, then nodded. Her bowstring slapped the air, sending an arrow one of his other powers registered as magical down range. It was, frankly, overkill. The void outline lurched backward and hit something else before dissipating. Unlike when the gestalt removed the orange wedge intentionally, it faded over a few seconds with the target’s death. Khiat’s free hand shook for just a moment before it reached for another arrow.

…

“I just figured out why Khare was randomly tagging people between us.” Daniel started sprinting, forcing his team and the wary Farthest Run to keep pace. “They’re enemies.”

…

It was an army against a squad of four. Five, though Martin was still MIA somewhere in the crowd. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but the two temporary additions had pushed Doran’s HURT squad to a higher combat effectiveness than when they’d started. Khiat was firing slower than she could, either due to nerves or hesitation. When she did loose her bow, one of the enemy combatants died. The gestalt had no moral compunctions and was unloading on the enemy with two bows. They had an insane amount of arrows in them and whenever the gestalt attacked the mark they placed above the enemy would flash red. The timing on that didn’t perfectly match each volley, so Doran suspected something else was at play there. He only wished he could properly ask how the power worked since it so cleanly paired with his. Crest, he’d also ask if the plant would stay after this mess.

Doran updated that thought after another enemy outline disappeared in an instant. He’d take them both and transition his team to the night shift if he had to. In the meantime, he was spotting targets. Squad Sight shared his visual power, but just like he couldn’t add those wedges to enemies, no one else could add the auras.

It’d be seconds to first contact, half a minute at most. No clear sighting of the enemy had been managed yet, he’d just seen enough of a glimpse to tag them. Doran wasn’t afraid, at least not for himself or his team. The average Blessed in this part of the Octyrrum was mid-level 1. Even multi-classed he was an above average fighter leading an experienced- leading the remains of an experienced team. That wasn’t considering that a force like this had to be composed of a majority of the levelless with a core of Blessed to support them. Once the damn spire guard figured out what was going on, they’d-

“Sir. Do you see that?” Vascott lowered the crossbow he’d been firing, a simple, light tool not fit for serious hunting. It could still penetrate the weak areas of the armor ahead of them. Doran would know, he was very familiar with it.

“The HL hit the guard house first.” It was Doran’s turn to freeze in the face of the enemy. Guardsmen. They’d finally gotten close enough that he could make them out. He’d heard of the monsters in the city, damn it he’d seen part of his squad converted. But this, hundreds of his own coming at him with nothing but the intent to kill.

“Sir, do we fall back?” Vascott yelled as Khiat glanced around for a roof she could grab onto and the gestalt pulled out a collection of daggers. For the first time tonight, Doran felt true dread. He’d known the odds, but this was no longer a faceless enemy that deserved only contempt.

“Nothing we can do for them,” he said blankly, feeling all the sand of the desert filling his mouth. “Stand your ground. May Torch’s light guide us.”

…

It happened like this. The courtyard in front of the Spire was ceremonial in its construction. The end of the main southern street of Aughal ended in a plaza you could hold a parade in. It was wide, with access to side streets and the center of the city if you skirted around the Sun Spire. If the storm hadn’t veiled the coming threat, the gathered crowds would have fled rather than continue their attempts to push through. As it stood, Doran’s messenger was among the many trapped by the throng pushing towards the only safe haven in the city.

From a strictly numerical sense, Casia was losing. She had herself, the commander’s powerful husk, hundreds of converted guardsmen, an Assassin, and two traitors. Either the divines or the Tyrant may be able to replicate whatever method they’d used to kill the other two. She was no stronger than they were, she just had more experience with what she could do.

She watched from above, seeing clearly through the storm. There were a handful at the back of the crowds putting up a token defense, but that wasn’t important. The tide of bodies easily flowed around them and began tearing into the backs of the crowd. Her focus was entirely here now, ceding the rest of the normal husks to whatever instinct was currently driving them. This was the crucial moment.

The people dying now were nothing special, no classes or levels. They were in no way notable, save for how many of them there were. This crowd well outnumbered the husks. Unless this carried for long enough to train them, a sufficiently determined mortal could take the weaker human and avianoid husks. Together, half a dozen could overpower one of the duskers, and it being night meant there were living duskers in the crowd as well.

People started fighting back. Parents, standing in front of the children, fighting with everything they had only to find they could win. Laborers with their tools formed a makeshift militia. And yes, the four at the front who were decimating the husks. This was what was important. People were dying. No one knew exactly what was going on. The storm hid much, though now Casia used her control over the sand to thin the air in the plaza. She couldn’t dismiss the storm entirely, she wasn’t the source of the power generating it, but she could create localized zones of calm as she had with Rasalia.

The massed crowd only knew that the guardsmen were killing them. Not everyone knew about the husks, most didn’t, only that there was a threat in the city. In replaced armor it was hard to tell what had been done to them. And when the air cleared?

The spire guard had known something was going on. The Knight providing the barrier was at the limits of her stamina when the pressure on them momentarily eased, then doubled. Casia’s influence over the sand peaked just when it broke and the crowd surged forward. The clearing air showed people taking apart guardsmen at the far end of the plaza in what was now a reverse charge. Martin was already dead, Doran and his spared because they weren’t in the thick of it. Not everyone was fighting, but enough were.

To those who’d stood as the aegis of Aughal’s Spoke, it was clear what had happened. A detachment of guard had come from behind to help calm the crowd. Maybe it was the storm, maybe it was Mirage plants riling them up, but something had gone very wrong. The last of the city’s defenders were dying. Were they just going to stand there and let it happen?

They let anyone who ran go, of course. Among those were enough who would spread the story. Guardsmen, slaughtering innocent civilians. Every point of pressure within the city that had been building over the last months was primed to explode, and that news was the spark to light them all. The servants of the gods still fought to clear their temples. The hunters were putting themselves back together and were bereft of their leadership.

Casia’s only concern was the Tyrant. It was a race for Armafus’ last legacy now. This next part had to be done before enough of the city rallied behind the air gestalt Tyrant that had come out of nowhere. She had almost all the pieces needed for victory, save for one. Where the Crest was her husband?