Infinite Realm: Monsters & Legends

Naha

It had felt as if the battle had lasted forever, though in reality it had been barely a dozen minutes. They were all beyond tired, they had given all that they had and more, and in the end they had been rewarded with a victory. Naha looked around the battlefield, and that was the only word that the courtyard could be called by. The torn stone, the earth ripped apart, the buildings that surrounded the yard were crumbled into rubble. But they won, and that was all that mattered. The monsters beyond the walls of the city were running, they had won.

“It is done,” one of the Empire’s people spoke, holding a silver orb in hand—a Far-link Orb. “The monsters on the Wall have broken, we are pushing them back.”

It was a victory, the victory for all of the world. Every soul in it, both those who knew and were in direct danger and those who ignored it from safety.

Naha walked over to Zach, who was sitting on the ground, his head and back leaned on the piece of rubble, catching his breath with his helmet off. His hair was soaked in sweat, lines of grime and filth trailed down his face as sweat trailed down from his brow. She sat down next to him and leaned her shoulder, then placed her head against his.

“We won,” she whispered.

“Yes, we did,” Zach answered. He turned his head and gave her a weak smile.

She closed her eyes, and for the first time in a long while let herself relax.

She closed her eyes. “I’ve done something good, right?” She whispered into his shoulder.

She felt him shift, look at her, but she didn’t open her eyes.

After a few moments of silence that lasted minutes to her, he answered.

“Yes, you did.”

Three years, sometimes it was hard for her to even believe it herself. They had returned from the Empire as soon as they recovered from their battle. Filled with treasures, a reward for their service to the Empire, to the world, even if most of the core didn’t know or cared. Kingdoms, factions, Guilds, had fallen, and new ones risen from their ashes. The Wardens were no more, and without them their one last connection to others was removed as well. Chaos ruled still.

They wandered, killing the straggling monsters still surviving in the core. They’ve done good, they were saving people.

As the night came, the two of them set up camp and a small fire. As always, they settled in next to the fire together.

“It’s been a while now since we’ve seen another settlement, another person.”

Naha glanced at Zach from across the fire. He was right, they hadn’t run into anyone for a while now. It was… peaceful.

“Yes, we are deep in the Frontier now,” she commented.

Zach nodded his head. “The question is, what do we do now? Continue into the unknown? Or return to the core?”

Naha shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

Zach shook his head. “Of course it matters love. What do you want to do?”

Naha opened her mouth to reaffirm her previous sentiment, but then she paused. The last few years had been… good for her. She felt more like herself than she ever had before. Not who she used to be long ago, and not the monster she became after. But… someone new, but still unmistakably her. Wandering around, killing monsters, saving people, it had been good. She felt like she was doing something good. And she could tell that Zach had noticed this past few weeks as they were all alone in the wild. It was why he had asked her that question. The peace was nagging at her, it felt like she didn’t deserve it.

“Tell me Naha,” he spoke. “What do you desire?”

For some reason she felt as if the entire world around her was waiting for an answer. She closed her eyes and then answered in a whisper.

“I was called a savior by my people when the Framework arrived. And I… I was loved, they looked up to me. And in the end I… I led them to danger and death. I trusted the wrong people when we arrived in the Infinite Realm. I let them be used and… I became what…” She shook her head. There were moments when she looked back and still saw herself as that thing she had been. Zach had reached a hand to her at her lowest point, had let her climb all over him, clinging and screaming as he helped her pull herself over the ledge. “I want to help people. I want to be… good. To be better.”

She looked at him, wanting to see his reaction. Instead, his eyes were lifeless. The world around her sighed, and then darkness swallowed her.

Maleatus

He ran across the rooftops, air filling his lungs. The exhilaration of the chase filled him. Who would’ve thought that it would end up like this? He had gone to the Empire, on that foolish mission as a way to gain more power, as probably most of the others on that mission had. And it had paid off, a tier nine class was his, an Oath. It had taken him years, but he had done it. He was stronger than ever, there was no stopping him now. The Warden’s Citadel shone behind him, the alarms blazed. The Wardens had risen in the chaos of the core as one of the strongest factions. Restructured, under new leadership, but strong still. Stronger, perhaps than even when Yirrel still lived.

It didn’t matter, he got what he wanted regardless of their power. He reached the walls of the citadel and jumped off, following the sounds of battle. In the distance he saw an army of Wardens, hundreds of them, fighting, and dying to a single minotaur. He was laughing, his armor covered in blood and one of his axe-heads chipped and cracked. A distraction, a mission fit for a man like him.

Mal saw a moment when he swung his axe in an arc, killing half a dozen and forcing others back, and he took advantage of the situation.

[True Switch]

And he was among them. Horn raised his axe and stopped it a hairbreadth away from Mal’s neck.

“Fuck,” Horn whispered.

Mal grinned and put his hand on the minotaur’s chest. He glanced back at the enraged wardens, he grinned at them as he bowed with a flourish, and then he switched them again, and again, and again. In seconds they were away from the Warden’s territory, in safety.

Horn stumbled and groaned.

“Damn it Mal, we agreed that we will fight our way out.”

“You agreed Vesterius, I just grunted. It’s not my fault you assumed, though really? You wanted to fight your way out of that? More were coming from the Citadel.”

The minotaur grimaced and gave him a look that would make anyone run. Mal just grinned back. Finally, he sighed.

“So,” Vesterius started. “You got it?”

With a flourish, he produced a large chest, then opened it. The glow illuminated the fur on the minotaur’s face, made his red eyes glow.

“Damn,” Vesterius whispered. “Is this..?”

Mal saw him reach for a small wrapped book, a skill tome. He snorted and picked it up, saw what it offered him, then chucked it away. “Worthless,” Mal said, then turned back to the contents of the chest. He reached down and pulled out an object. “But this…”

Vesterius stared at the object in Mal’s hand. “That was what you were after? Are you insane?”

Mal grinned at him. He had fought a Dome Leader, and triumphed, he had gained power and stood on the pinicle of strength. But no matter what he achieved, how powerful he got, there was one voice that always whispered in the back of his mind, telling him that it wasn’t enough. With this, it would be.

“Why?” Vesterius whispered. “What do you desire to achieve?”

The world waited for an answer. And he gave it.

“Why?” Mal repeated. For a moment he hesitated, but then… The two of them had spent a long time together, almost every day since he returned from the Empire. He knew that Mal was planning something, only not what. Mal sighed, then spoke in a whisper. “Because every time I sleep, I wake up having to convince myself that I still have my limbs. Because I see that three sided face staring down at me, looking at me as if I am nothing but a bug beneath its feet.”

Mal closed his eyes. The spirit. No matter how powerful he got, it was always there, mocking him, telling him that it wasn’t enough. That was why he went to the Empire, why he fought the Dome Leader. All to gain enough power to face that spirit again. He looked at the weapon in his hands, with this, he would show it what power meant.

“I want to see it die.”

The world sighed, and darkness swallowed him.

Erik

The Dome Leader was dead, and Erik spared no time. A day’s rest, and he ordered Anashi to take them back to the Empire. The core team objected, of course. Entitled and spoiled, they remained in the city to recover, their part of the bargain done. No room in their hearts to extend the aid further, but Erik had always known what they were like.

They arrived back in the capital; the city still besieged. The Dome Leader was dead, but the monsters remained. Mindless, but that did not mean less dangerous. He watched as they came, no control, no restrain. It was the last charge. They all came, the taken and the dome monsters together. He saw fire blossoming in the distance, his mother fighting far away. The sand in front of the Walls trembled, the world shook.

Erik raided the stations on the walls, drank potions to put away his exhaustion, and then he joined in the fighting, fire trailing behind him.

It took months for them to push back the all-out assault of the monsters, a year until the entirety of the Wall was secured. Another two until they had retaken their old territories. And Erik had been there for every step of it. The Ornn House had served the Empire like no other had in the Empire’s entire history. And finally, it was enough.

Erik sat before the Emperor, looking into his tired eyes.

“This is what you truly desire?” He said, slowly, tiredly.

“It is part of it,” Erik told him. “I know that you’ve always held hope, but…”

Erakael shook his head, then looked to the side, over the balcony where they were sitting. Erik feared that he would deny him, but then he turned back and slid a small box over to Erik.

He looked at it for a moment, then hesitantly reached out and picked it up. Finally, after so many centuries, he had it.

“Thank you,” Erik told the Emperor. “And I am sorry.”

The Emperor waved his hand, his eyes looked in the distance. Erik stood up and left the Emperor there alone with his grief. He understood what it was like, and he knew that giving it to Erik had to have been the hardest decision that the Emperor had ever made. A part of Erik still couldn’t believe it.

He rushed to his family’s airship and was out of the capital in minutes, not giving the Emperor a chance to change his mind.

Once he reached the Ornn household, he made his way beneath the grounds, into the crypt-temple. He walked by the newer sections, the statues of young family members that had perished in the war with the dome monsters, then the older ones. Victims of the great game of Houses, others that had died in petty wars and on grand adventures. He walked by them all, until he reached the oldest one. Compared to the others who were all made out of expensive materials, adorned with gems and silks, this one was bare. Carved out of rough brown stone of the desert.

They didn’t have much back then.

Erik looked at the face that was a mirror of his own, and felt his heart ache, wetness trailing down one of his cheeks.

“I have it, at last,” he whispered.

“He gave it to you,” the voice of his mother said, surprised, hesitant, fearful.

He turned to look at her, this was something that they had wanted for so long, that they had schemed and planned so much about. They had hoped that perhaps one of the others, the twins, might’ve been able to do what they needed. Nayra was the closest that they had reached, the irony of her doing it on her own. It was why they needed her back. But she was still young, and she was alone. She wouldn’t have the strength for what they needed, not for centuries yet. And Erik was tired of waiting. But, in the end, none of their plans were necessary. The war… the Emperor simply lost his faith, and gave it to them of his own free will, as a reward for their service.

“He finally accepted that his brother is no more. Hundreds of years of searching, and he found not even a whisper that would suggest that there is something after for souls that died a true death.”

His mother closed her eyes, took a deep breath. The world itself seemed to pause with her, and then she spoke. “This was something that we wanted, desired, that you desired, for so long. What now?”

Erik looked down, then opened the box in his hands. Inside of it was a key, made out of bone. Smooth and white, simple, yet valuable beyond everything else in this world. A key to open the doors that led to the afterlife.

Erik’s fingers tightened on the box. “Now, I get my brother back.”

The world trembled, and then darkness swallowed him.