Icarus Awakens

Aucrest Seliri took a small measure of satisfaction from how hard he was making the Assassin’s life. At the same time he knew that the only reason he was still alive was that Mark didn’t want him dead.

The Silver Eye was perceived to be many things. True or not, Aucrest’s reputation as one of the foremost of Aughal’s lords was well known. To the unleashed rage below the Spire, that just made him a bigger target. Before this disaster, though, he was also known as an unlikely bridge between his formerly pure avianoid faction and a host of human families that had flocked under his banner. He was a father, not that that needed to be emphasized. Lords that did not sire died unremembered.

What few would guess was that Aucrest Seliri was a competent fighter. Oh, people would say he could be a powerful one. With the pieces of Armafus’ legacy in addition to what enchanted items his house had garnered he could by weight of magic stand against teams of lower leveled Blessed. That power had only grown when he’d played the vulture and capitalized on Ytaya’s sudden death. He’d missed out on capturing the ring normally responsible for her sun immunity, which hadn’t been anywhere on the body.

All that being said, if you knew what his repertoire of enchantments did and were capable yourself, you’d expect that you could beat the old avianoid after burning through his best tricks. Mark had certainly assumed that. His wife had died to a completely green level 1 Assassin after all. Mark’s opening attack, a storm of dark knives that blinded those they didn’t kill, had wiped out Aucrest’s personal guard and broke the shield that had flared around the man from a thin band around his wrist. He’d half expected the lord to freeze up and make the job easy.

Instead, he’d been blasted through a wall by concussive force generated by something within the avianoid’s suit. That same maneuver had thrown his target backward. Of the equipment Aucrest had on him, legacy included, it was the best response he could have made to the ambush.

Nevertheless, Mark was a level 6 Assassin and on the cusp of leaving his class behind altogether for true power. Aucrest only had one item on that level, the shield generator, and an item could not match an empowered individual. It was just so damn hard to knock the Silver Eye out without resorting to one of his many, extraordinarily lethal powers. Compare it to Daniel, who was both level 2 and in possession of Regeneration. Mark’s strength, which through manipulation of his mana structure had been effectively reduced to the mid-40s range to allow him to improve other attributes, was still enough to kill his target if he was careless.

Aucrest was a glass ballista. He had items that would prevent damage but not blunt it once it broke through, and was strangely adept at using his legacy in a high-level fight. Hit him with enough force to overwhelm his shield and the attack risked going straight through until it hit the Shroud. Maneuvering into a position where he could ignore it and either choke Aucrest out or leave a disabling wound was made all the more difficult by his opponent’s competence and arsenal. Mark finally had the thought after a casually thrown dagger killed the twelfth spire guard to investigate the disturbance. Bastard must have trained up after his wife died. Figures this would be Casia’s fault.

This was taking far, far too long. The fight had traveled across the Sun Spire, through residences, and at one point turned into a vertical engagement when they reached the main stairway. Aucrest had gained the upper hand there as, true to his race, he became a flying terror. As irritated as Mark was by the delay and the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to fulfill the other hunt he’d been sent on, he wasn’t worried about eventually prevailing. Someone hopped up by a number of good items still couldn’t beat real power.

The gear produced by the Artificer-Tyrant Armafus were potent enough to form the backbone of the region’s entire ruling class. What other items Aucrest possessed, made by lesser enchanters over the years, would eventually wear out. A lesser variant of the ring of lancing Claret bore had posed a major threat, especially on the stairways when Aucrest could make fly-by attacks. Now, its gem was cracked. The old man was likewise tiring despite some form of vitality enchantment propping him up. Crest, Mark could just keep up the pressure until he dropped that way, but a professional completed his tasks with as much alacrity as was appropriate. Discretion as well, normally, when the plan didn’t involve making the city eat itself.

It was when they came to a hallway with a balcony, one of only a dozen in the Sun Spire, that Mark found the chance to end things. He was running along one of the walls, thanks to a power granting stability on any surface, when Aucrest dove for the opening. Surprisingly proficient he may be, the man hadn’t paid close enough attention to his surroundings. Like a sandbat trying to fly into one of the Spire’s windows, he collided with the recently deployed siege ward that threw out individual sections over large openings in the wall.

The Assassin was on him, dagger stabbing down multiple times per second until the renewed shield broke. His grip reversed just as quickly, the pommel colliding with Aucrest’s head. “Target acquired,” Mark said to the open air, feeling no shame in the fact that he wasn’t talking to anyone. A little grandiose, but he’d earned it.

Ideally he’d inform Casia of the delay but, lacking the internal communication she and her lackeys had, that was impossible. Even without the Shroud, his sandstorm didn’t discriminate in what it screened out. Looking down off the balcony, Mark sighed. Ah well, at least the rest of the plan is working out. Shouldering Aucrest, the Assassin prepared himself for a long climb.

…

The two Rangers proved the fastest of the group to Daniel and Hunter’s complete lack of surprise. While this was tantamount to them escaping custody, Daniel’s group had never been keen on taking them prisoner anyway. Surprisingly, Willow still tagged along near the back. Either she didn’t want to leave the relative safety of the hunters, or she was that obsessed with Hunter. Daniel had a weird sense that he was glad the ringcat hadn’t figured out how to go full humanoid yet.

With the sandstorm raging, only Identify Creature allowed the group to reliably stick together. Khare’s marks were also telling a story, a grim one. There was no concrete distance indicator with them, though you could still make a rough guess based on how big the wedge was. When they’d started marking the enemies Daniel was between a half and three-quarters of a kilometer away. Now, they were nearly there.

The storm bothered him some as he ran, but his superhuman endurance attribute made it a breeze otherwise. He was faster than Taloran and Evalyn who both suffered from level disparity in at least one physical attribute. Compared to the balanced Daniel, these differences made themselves known over prolonged exertion. The Rangers, meanwhile, grew further ahead. It turned into something they may have agreed on if there were no differences between them, the two Rangers scouting ahead while the majority of the group brought up the rear.

Daniel’s improved speed meant that he could save his energy by keeping a lighter pace. Instead, he kept up the sprint and stopped for half a minute on occasion when he’d built up enough of a lead. Evalyn eventually inquired as she passed him for the tenth time. “What are you doing?”

“Enchanting,” Daniel muttered in the slightly distracted tone he used when part of him was focused on mana flow.

“Now? What could you be making that would make a difference?”

“Uh.” Daniel slipped something small into the bag of holding at his waist. “Basically, they’re bone pebbles I put the spineshard enchantment into. Don’t worry, they won’t react with anything in there and they’re pretty small.”

“Why?” Evalyn asked with the fraction of breath she didn’t need for running.

“I had an idea.” Daniel shrugged, now keeping pace out of self-awareness that he may not have chosen the best time for experimentation. “What happens if I combine the lightning link enchantment and the lightning affix in one item?”

“It explodes?”

“That’s what I’m worried about too, but I have a power that can put temporary affixes on items.” It had been the idea he’d wanted to work on after the boots. Granted, priming an explosion that was directly adjacent to him wasn’t the best idea, and that was the the main reason he’d held off until now. Making the small marbles from level 3 bone also took a few seconds each and helped Restorative Craft take the edge off the pain in his arm. “It’d be safer if I could have the lightning affix permanently on a bolt, but my power wouldn’t let me put the exploding formuale on afterward. But if I just keep spineshard bolts in my bag of holding and charge them right before firing, then they’d be self-activating explosive arrows.”

“How does this help us now?”

“Explosive pebbles?” Daniel scowled. “If Hunter would let me ride on his back I’d probably have enough time to make one or two.”

“No,” a rumbling voice denied from further ahead in the sandstorm. “Focus. I smell a lot of blood.”

“We’re still a minute or two away,” Daniel pointed out. “And there’s a sandstorm going.”

“Yes.”

…

Gordon and Qess stared out from the edge of the clear zone like it was a bush. Compared to what was in front of them, they were two apex predators observing clashing hordes of weaker prey. He’d have liked to have thought about it in those terms to spare his heart from the truth. “Who do you think is winning?”

“No one is,” Qess whispered back.

The Ranger rubbed at his face, still somewhat bruised though his natural healing rate was putting in work to get him back in order. Nothing on par with Regeneration, which took the slow improvement from advancing endurance and multiplied it. “Do you see how they could have missed this? Half of them came from this direction.”

Qess wanted to agree, but there was something she’d noticed. “None of them looked like they were involved in fighting like this. If we trust them, maybe together we can stop this.”

Gordon watched a sobbing man stomp on a fallen guardsman’s helmet even after it was clear they were dead. He also saw the blood on the dead guard’s sword. “There’s no stopping this without putting most of them down.”

His partner glared upwards. “None of this makes sense. Where is everyone? Rasalia, the churches? How did they take the Hunter’s Guild without anyone knowing?”

They’d long since determined that most of the ‘guardsmen’ in this melee were the strange monsters being created out of people’s corpses. You could tell, if you were looking for it, by how they moved. Besides the monsters and the civilians, there seemed to be a few loose hunters in the mix, and a detachment of spire guard treating everyone as hostile. The man Gordon had seen earlier took an arrow to the head, fired from where the spire guard were holding the closed off entrance to the Sun Spire. “Where’s the fucking Council?”

“Dead or useless.” They could both hear the rest of their team, and the questionably loyal hunters, getting closer. “You see the rest of that Artificer’s team?”

“Yeah.”

“Seems like they’re the only ones focusing on the monsters, trying to help people. I think the guy leading them’s a watch sergeant.”

“Yeah.”

“Think it’s an act?”

Gordon shook his head. “Maybe the dusker’s oblivious, but the gestalt’s from the Thormundz. If they wanted to sabotage the situation they’d stab that sergeant in the confusion.” He tried again to square his suspicions with what he saw in front of him, with what Daniel and the others had done after they’d ambushed them, and found he couldn’t. “They still have to answer for the ringcat. Back there, we made the right call. Just looks like the Octyrrum didn’t agree.”

…

Khiat’s eyes were burning. If the Grafting had been kinder, she would be crying. They’d long figured out the approaching guards had been taken over, which had given her just enough relief for what came next to crush her.

People were dying all around them. Doran kept their group alive, moving throughout the crowd and giving them every opportunity to save who they could. Martin was dead, they all saw his outline fade soon after it started, but Vascott stepped lively enough to keep up with the Blessed. For someone she’d just met, Khiat still felt grateful for that.

At least they hadn’t lost anyone else, and the rioters hadn’t turned on them. She felt the emotion driving them in the air, a rage and pain that only wanted a direction to expend itself in. The last two members of HURT were doing as much to avoid notice as they were defending the people who may kill them on sight.

It was fortunate they were far from the spire guard, who had snapped and begun indiscriminately killing once they’d finally discovered what the majority of the guardsmen here were. Standing above it all, completely impenetrable, was the Spire. To someone raised in Aughal it was an object worthy of reverence, and this killing field below it was profane. That didn’t make Khiat stop killing the converted guardsmen, though she still froze up whenever one got too close. Even all her improvements had yet to allow her to screen out that reflex.

Khare, on the other hand, had initially tried the bleeding enchantment they could place on their weapons, only to find the guards had no blood to give. They’d stuck with melee weapons in the end, careful not to hit the crowd of people who were mainly ignoring the only gestalt here. What kept her going was the knowledge they gave them, that the rest of her team would be here soon. That would make everything alright again.

…

Qess shot Marky a look as his growing sick almost gave away their position. He still continued but tried to reign in the noise. Gordon, meanwhile, held out an arm to stop Gadriel from breaking into the clear space in the storm. “Sir, desist.” There was something approaching fury on his face, though it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular. “This must come to an end.”

“You’re not going to charge in there, unthinking, to save your friend and catch an arrow to the neck,” Gordon replied smoothly. “Level 3 or not, that would take you down long enough for the crowds to finish you. Now, let’s say for the moment we’re on the same side. They’ve been holding their own. We need a plan of action before we go in there.”

After a few seconds, Gadriel acknowledged the point. Daniel, however, asked, “How can we even help this? They’re just-” He almost joined Marky away from the main group. It reminded him far too much of the lake.

“The rioters are going to win,” Gordon predicted. “The fallen guard isn’t doing much now that people are seriously resisting them, and the spire guard don’t have the numbers. It’ll be a bloodbath, but numbers are always the counter to levels. We can’t stop the fighting, only change the victor. Do we want to?”

Silence for a moment, and then Taloran looked angry for the first time tonight. “You’re saying we go in there and, what, kill innocent people?”

“Don’t look too innocent to me,” Qess fired back. “The kids and anyone not fighting have made it out by now.”

“This is all the Council’s fault! No,” Taloran reversed himself, “The entire aristocracy. This is their heartless greed pushing people too far. I know the common man, this is not something that happens in one night.”

“There’s a bigger problem,” Willow, standing next to Hunter, said. Taloran turned, expecting her to contest his points. Instead, she explained, “The city is still under attack, and my father would have let those people in if he had a choice. I’m not sure if you all know this or not, but the Spires’ functions operate differently. Some only need a simple majority to control, like closing the siege wards. But to reopen them, you need a unanimous vote.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Gordon shrugged. “Someone takes a Spire and has a few pocket traitors, they still can’t disable the Shroud around the other Spires. Don’t see how that information helps us here.”

“Bennar must have closed the siege ward. He always was cowardly. My point is that he lives in the Sun Spire. If, if my mother is still making those things and sending them at people, then we need to reopen the Spires to let them in. Getting to him is the key.”

“I think I see your plan, but it won’t work. We won’t be able to get through that barrier.” Gordon pointed and, indeed, there were a few desperately trying to get to the main door of the Spire to no avail. The Shroud was locking everyone out. “And my bet is when they lock down the Spires, there aren’t any entrances, not even from below.”

“We can’t get in, but he can.” Willow pointed to Daniel, who looked behind himself for a moment.

“Me?”

“I heard from my father how you escaped Claret. You went through the Shroud. You must have a power that lets you ignore it.”

“I guess?” Thomas had explained why Daniel’s escape from Claret had been technically impossible, although they’d never figured out how he’d been able to do it. All Daniel had seen was an open window, but not being aware of the Shroud wasn’t enough to ignore it. Not even hiding a third soul somewhere in him would do it, nor would his connection to Earth-Daniel who was equally clueless. “So you just want me to Die Hard this Spire?” He winced right after saying it. “Wait, sorry. You want me to go in there and find this Bennar? If he’s as powerful as Claret is, I’m not going to be able to make him do anything.”

“What else can we do!?” Willow asked, clearly agitated by the ongoing atrocity.

“I’ve heard the Shroud can resist attempts to teleport past it,” Gordon added, scratching the back of his head as his eyes traced up and down the tower. “We’re either fighting or running. I think that’s all this boils down to, and the only way we’re making a difference by fighting is with a man on the inside. In the meantime, we can rescue your friends and find out when the gods have decided we’ve done enough helping ourselves to merit some assistance.”

“You all seriously want me to go in there. Alone?” Daniel asked, incredulous.

“Thomas is in there,” Evalyn said thoughtfully. “And at the very least Claret shouldn’t be.”

“This is insane.” Daniel turned to Hunter. “I’m not going into the Spire alone, right?”

“Don’t, if you don’t want to. Help if you do.” Farthest Run, especially the recovering Marky, stiffened as the ringcat spoke once more. It wasn’t the time to return to that conversation, however.

Seeing no strong dissuasion from his friends, people dying before him as he stalled, and somewhat secure in the knowledge that he could always jump out of another window if he got into trouble, Daniel capitulated. “Fine. I want someone to go with me to find a spot, though. And the rest of you better get Khare and Khiat out of that mess.” He looked back up at the Spire, the higher floors still invisible in the ongoing storm. “At least I’m not afraid of heights.”