The Firstlings

Ciel wandered through the ranks of the soldiers as they eyed her warily. She recognized some of their faces, knowing that they were friendly. But she didn’t trust some of the others, as their eyes held more contempt than they did acceptance. Ignoring their stares, she made it to each of her siblings, comforting them the best she could.

Her magic couldn’t heal like their sister Nara's, but it could help soothe, allowing their own natural healing to work more efficiently. Doing what she could for them, she continued onward until she stood before the last person who required treatment.

Bently lay on a makeshift cot, human healers tending to his wounds. Some color had come back to him, but he was still riddled with wounds. The black veins creeping through his body had receded but were still present, making it difficult for them to treat him.

Ciel came to the man's side as the healers backed up, giving her friendly nods. One of the healers was from the academy and had worked closely with her and her siblings. The women began to explain to Ciel his condition and their troubles with healing him.

“We don’t know what type of poison is affecting him,” the healer explained, pointing to areas of concern. “His increased constitution is helping, but our healing won't take hold with whatever is coursing through his body. He’s lucky to be alive at all.”

“I’ll try to help,” Ciel assured her, pulling off the pendant from around her neck. She hated to use something so precious for this moment, but it was necessary. Aaron wanted the man alive, so she would do whatever it took.

Ciel held the pendant high as she took a small metal pin and tapped it, a pure ringing sound resonating around them. The small crystal inlaid into the charm cracked, releasing the power stored within its shimmering surface. Mother’s nurturing aura spilled over Bently's sleeping form, attempting to fight off the corruption and heal the man’s wounds.

Ciel sighed, watching as the opposing forces battled within the man’s body, knowing that she had done all she could. Mother’s aura was powerful, but it would also depend on Bently and how bad his condition truly was.

It was up to him now.

Sensing that he had reached equilibrium, Aaron felt his soul tremble, its flame strong and steady. His soul's reserves weren't as vast as before, but he wouldn’t face any permanent backlash if forced to rely on his essence. Opening his eyes, he saw that the sun was beginning to fall, blanketing the sky with a mix of vibrant colors.

Although the camp was quiet, Aaron could feel the tension in the air. The horde of goblins had squatted, building bonfires to prepare for nightfall, clearly setting the stage for a battle of attrition. They were attempting to break their spirits and dash all hopes of salvation. It was a cunning tactic, and from the looks of the camp, it was highly effective.

Kaznor noticed Aaron rising and rushed to his side. “They are planning a more extended stay,” he said, his voice fraught with worry. “We can’t last like this, Aaron. Without resources from the city or free roam, we will starve before they even lift a finger.”

Aaron could see the weariness on the man's face. That same look was reflected in everyone in the outpost as they stood at the ready, leaning tiredly. They were on their last legs, and as long as something wasn’t done, they would fall, as would over half the slums camped behind them.

Weakened by starvation and suffocated with fear and doubt.

Just waiting to be slaughtered.

Walking to the edge, Aaron peered over the battlefield, easily finding his target. Foster sat munching on bones and flesh, bodies piled around him as he chewed contently. There were goblins, humans, and anything else the horde could find to help satiate the beast’s murderous frenzy.

Aaron knew it was the only thing keeping Foster from storming their own ranks or even the walls, blind to all but the need to kill. Glancing to the side, Aaron saw Sergeant Riley, glaring over the horde, figuring that the man probably slept while standing. He was a prick, but he cared about his people and looked to be barely holding it together himself.

“What are you planning?” Kaznor asked.

“To do whatever is necessary,” Aaron replied, steeling his heart. Reaching inward, he called through the bond, feeling the others as they sent back their replies. Cornelius was fully prepared, and Ciel had done what she could for Bently and their siblings. Turning to Kaznor, Aaron winked, smiling wide, as he leaped from the wall, leaving the man fumbling.

Aaron fell to the ground landing light as a feather, his smile becoming a grimace. His heart was heavy, unsure whether his attempts would be successful, and with the thought of being forced to resort to more extreme measures. He would try to do what he could, but he wouldn't let Foster continue to suffer in such a horrible state.

Foster perked up, his ears twitching as Aaron touched the ground. Huffing, he discarded the mangled bodies as he rose, roaring in rage. His dark fur danced around him, writhing in agitation, appearing like tentacles, dripping a foul black sludge.

Aaron sent mana from his core surging through his limbs as he darted forward with a roar of his own. Noticing the horde stirring in the distance, he called through the bond as Ciel stepped to the wall, holding her charm high. She rapped its surface with a small rod, sending a shrill chime echoing through the clearing.

And the world went silent.

Aaron saw the air shimmer, making them appear as if they were in a dome. The sound from the world around them had ceased, and he watched as goblins inspected the dome before falling back, blood pouring from their ears. Focusing on foster, he picked up speed, thankful for Ciel's help in allowing them their own arena.

Foster charged, his killing intent rolling through the field as his massive paws tore furrows into the dirt. The world trembled as he stomped forward in a rampage, black foam dripping from his muzzle as his heavy breaths spread steam around him. His eyes were glazed over, still consumed by the madness growing within his soul.

Activating [Vital Hands], Aaron refused to pull his blade as he closed in, circulating mana and soul essence through his palms. He darted to the side as Foster crashed forward with a snarl, lashing out crazily with teeth and claws. Aaron deftly evaded before darting back in and punching out, striking Foster in the ribs, knocking him sideways, sending a wave of his essence through the beast's body.

Somersaulting backward, he flipped across the ground as Foster roared in rage, swiping barely missing his head. He landed gracefully, dancing left and right, as Foster charged in, bearing down on him in a wild fury. Aaron went back and forth as he baited Foster, retaliating when he could, each swing continuously sending pulses of his essence rippling through the beast's body. If Foster had been clear of mind, he knew that he would have already lost, but the beast's rage was easily goaded and predictable in its wild frenzy.

He could see with his sight that every strike was pushing through the darkness within Foster's center. Each hit slowly cleared a path towards the small shimmering glow that nestled within Foster’s soul, the last remnant of his humanity. But each hit also caused Foster to lash out in a fit of rage, fighting tooth and nail to protect the madness consuming him.

Growling, Aaron ducked low, Foster’s massive paw swiping above his head. Feeling the rush of wind, he skirted on all fours, using his nimble fingers to propel him as he rolled to the side. Coming up, he punched out with [Vital Hands] before jumping back in shock when Foster turned quicker than expected. Raising his arms, he blocked the best he could with his vambraces, using the wooden plates like a small shield. Foster’s claws slammed into his arms with deadly force, sending Aaron flying backward and tumbling as he bounced across the ground.

He went with the roll, getting further away, flipping deftly to his feet before skidding to a stop, his arms trembling from the power behind the deadly strike strike. But he froze in panic, looking up to see Foster bearing down on him with the unstoppable weight of a mountain. With no time to dodge, Aaron growled, shifting and sidestepping Foster’s first swing, kicking out at the second strike that was soon to follow. His foot connected with Foster’s massive paw, knocking it high as Aaron felt something snap.

He continued to spin, not knowing whether it was his bones or Foster’s as he kicked upward at what he knew was coming. His foot struck Foster in his open maw, shoving his jaw shut with a rattle, spit flying from his lips. Punching out, he struck Foster in the throat, causing him to rear back with a gurgle, momentarily stunned.

Aaron darted forward, striking Foster in the center of his chest with [Vital Hands], pushing as much soul essence into the punch as he could afford. Ripples spread from the impact as a tidal wave of essence tore through the miasmic darkness within Foster’s soul. The dark cloud crawling in its depths slowly began to recede, buffeted by the torrential impact of Aaron’s essence, as golden sparks of mana arched through the beast's body.

His essence peeled back the darkness and Aaron felt a tiny spark strike the faint glow in its center. Before he could rejoice in his success, he lurched in horror, unable to pull his arm back. The foul sludge, dripping from Foster’s fur, had lashed out, wrapping around his arm tightly. Growling, Aaron fought to free himself as more tentacles of sludge shot out, wrapping around him and locking him in place.

He knew true terror when Foster fell forward, grabbing him in a bear hug as they crashed to the ground heavily. Aaron fought, getting one hand free as he looked into Foster’s eyes, pausing when he saw they were clear, no longer the eyes of madness.

Foster looked at Aaron with eyes full of sorrow. “Kill me,” he whispered gruffly, still holding him tightly. "Aaron... please,” Foster begged before shaking his head as if confused.

Aaron's terror turned to dread when the madness returned to Foster’s eyes.

And he bit down.

He roared in agony as Foster bit down onto his shoulder, teeth sinking deep, scraping against bone. Frantically sending a call for help through the bond, Aaron barely reached his dagger, stabbing it into Foster's eye, abandoning all hope of saving his friend and mentor. Foster showed no signs of pain as he began to shake him violently, tearing deeper into his shoulder.

Screaming in pain, Aaron felt his thoughts becoming blurred as Foster shook him like a ragdoll. He could feel the flesh tearing on his shoulder as his screams echoed through the clearing. He faintly heard the sounds of the world return as Ciel’s dome crumbled. He saw a tiny spark of light as Cornelius came to his aid but couldn’t understand.

Foster gave him one last shake before darkness claimed him.

His cries of agony rang throughout the horde, their howls of ecstasy filling the air. His wails trickled through the ranks of his sibling and the soldiers on the walls, bringing chills down their spines. It echoed through the outpost to all who could hear its deathly sound, reaching a sleeping figure no longer riddled with wounds.

Bently’s eyes fluttered open...

Aaron’s cries woke him from his dreams.

Dreams about Mother.