The Mother of Monsters

Teyva spent the better part of fifteen minutes scouring her journal for any way to deactivate the cosmetic effect that came with [Withering Halo]. To her immense annoyance as well as Azrael’s amusement, she could find nothing. She gave up after a while and huffed out a breath, sitting there in the mutated grass and puffing a bit of hair out of her face. Nephral on the other hand sat in front of his mother with a look of child-like awe in his big feline eyes.

“What?” She demanded, pinning him with a stare.

“No one can ignore mother now, in the dark she will be like a beacon of-” He was cut off by Teyva holding up her hands in defeat and Azrael’s laughter growing even louder. He turned toward the Azar, confused, “Did I say something wrong?”

Teyva sighed and covered her face; “No, it’s fine Neph, it’s fine.”

“Looks like stealth won’t be in your wheelhouse, My Lady,” Azrael teased.

“Oh shut up,” Teyva grunted, getting to her feet and brushing herself off, “Let’s get a move on, we’re losing daylight.”

“Not that we’ll need it,” Azrael jabbed.

Teyva groaned and rolled her eyes, turning toward Azrael, “You have something to say?”

Azrael paused and frowned, her eyes going hard and stony. She looked much like she did the first time Teyva had seen her. The stoic warden that took the world around her in with a heavy dose of suspicion. She crossed her arms and looked Teyva up and down for a moment. She squared her shoulders and stepped toward Teyva, pinning her with a stare.

“You have three Aspects, Teyva Akura. Your powers grow as if you are in a race, I can’t help but wonder what this is all building to. What do you want, Teyva? Who are you to the peoples of Orum?” She demanded, putting herself squarely in front of her friend.

Teyva was taken aback. Was this what had been bothering Azrael? She had seemed contemplative even after they had their confrontation on the way to the settlement. Teyva felt a tightness form in her chest, she held herself and looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She had only been in this world a few days and she could barely wrap her head around everything that had happened. All the changes she had experienced. There was so much pain here, confusion, and terror, but there were also moments of joy and laughter. She liked Orum, from what little she knew about it. She looked down at her feet and sighed before returning Azrael’s stare with all the spine she could muster.

Nephral, beside her, stepped forward and opened his mouth. She knew he was about to say something inane about subjugating the many peoples of Orum or any other equally mad statement. She held out a hand to silence him and he sat down, looking up at her.

“I don’t have an answer to that,” Teyva said, “Not one I can give you honestly. Ever since I woke it’s been a mad rush to survive. I haven’t been able to think about what it all means, what I want to do, and who I want to be. I want to figure it out though, to do something with all this,” she gestured at her body, muted pale light radiating off exposed skin beneath her armor. “I’m sorry Az, I know it’s not as certain as you’d hoped.”

Azrael held her gaze for a few more moments before letting out a sigh. She scratched the back of her head and looked away, her expression inscrutable. Finally, she lowered her hands and smiled; “That’s a relief, I’m sorry I took you to task like that. This, you, it’s all a lot to take in. People will be afraid of you Teyva, terrified. I’ve seen enough to know that you aren’t some monster, but that’s me. There’s a whole world of people out there who have enough to deal with as it is,” Azrael said, “I want you to be prepared for that.”

Teyva felt her heart sink, she knew that what Azrael was saying was true. She had known that her strangeness and her powers were going to make her stand out. Hearing someone say it out loud, though, really made the whole thing hit home. She rubbed her sword arm with a clawed hand and looked toward the tree. “Then I guess I better do as much good as possible, yeah?”

“That would help, yes,” Azrael said with a smile and stepped forward to clap her friend on the shoulder. “Whatever happens, I have your back Teyva.”

“Then let's go do this thing,” Teyva said. She looked down at Nephral who was giving her a thoughtful look. He rolled his small shoulders and flapped his wings, rising and landing back on Teyva’s shoulder. She reached up and scratched his neck; “You alright Nephral?”

“I believe I understand mother better now, and why the Mockeries adore you so,” He paused and said in a low voice; “And why mother respects Lady Azrael so much.”

Teyva chuckled; “Want me to tell her you said that?”

“You wouldn’t dare!” The sphinx gasped, eyes wide. Teyva barked out a laugh and scratched his head before moving to catch up with Azrael who had already started walking towards the tree. When she joined her Azrael tilted her head towards a pair of pools near the dark entrance to the cavern beneath the massive root. Teyva took a breath and shifted on her heels, turning her eyes toward the one on the left.

“I’ll take the left,” Teyva said, “Let me get my mockeries ready.”

“Well said, I will make a fighter of you yet.”

Teyva held out her hand and began to cast [Create Mockery] pouring her mana into the creation of the creatures. She cast the ability over and over, allowing the newborns to hurry into the sack to join their brethren. Minutes passed and eventually, she had hit her new capacity of thirty-five and had let her mana regenerate with Nephral’s help. She nodded to Azrael and the two of them split apart, heading to their chosen pool of tar.

Teyva raised a hand as she walked, preparing a [Pale Bolt], frost forming on her fingertips as the first Wightling began to scramble its way out of the tar. It let out a horrible scream that washed over Teyva and she felt her blood turn to ice again. A pang of fear shuddered through her but she resisted. Releasing the [Pale Bolt] and catching the creature square in the chest. The damage seemed unchanged from the first time she’d used it on one despite her increase in level. She frowned, she wasn’t getting her [Titan Slayer] buff anymore.

She gestured with her sword arm and the Mockeries roared forth from her bag, lunging en masse toward the single target as more Wightlings began to pour out of the muck. Fresh howls of anger and agony filled the air and she could hear the song of Azrael’s sword biting into the flesh of newborn horrors. She kept her focus on her side of the fight but instructed Nephral to watch her back.

The first Wightling went down quickly, its health decimated by the swarm of mockeries. Soon however there were five of the things racing in Teyva’s direction and the swarm had to split up to intercept them. Teyva took a step back, firing off [Pale Bolt] at three who had initially escaped the first attempt of the swarm to catch up. Two of them staggered as [Chilling Weakness] triggered giving a few of her darlings enough time to land on their backs and begin biting. The last one charged headfirst toward her, its dislocated jaw and manic eyes blazed with desperate fury.

She grit her teeth and threw out her left hand as it pounced, casting [Grasp of the Mimic]. Her left arm distended and stretched. It became large, black, and horrible. Red veins ran up and down the mutated limb and her fingers turned into enormous hooked claws. She snatched the creature out of the air and drew up her weapon to strike. The Wightling bit and scratched and howled, kicking and flailing its entire body as it threw every ounce of whatever was driving it into getting out of her grip. She squeezed and its body cracked a little beneath her claws. Ice poured across her sword arm and she drove it into the creature’s head, its body going limp and melting in her palm.

As her left arm turned back to normal she looked up and realized she didn’t have a second to waste. She held up her hand again and began casting [Pale Bolt] pressing the advantage that the swarm had given her. More of the creatures dropped even as more of them poured out of the muck. Three more scrambled out and released their terrible howls. A few mockeries broke free of their targets and fled in random directions, fright pouring into her senses. She scowled, bearing her teeth and releasing another [Pale Bolt] on the first one she could get a bead on.

“How is Azrael doing?” Teyva asked, taking a few steps to the left to get a better angle on her targets.

“The Warden holds her own, mother, she fights with much ferocity,” Teyva nodded, she’d have to trust Azrael to hold her own while she handled these guys.

She released another [Pale Bolt] and felt the wooziness of her mana dipping low. She’d been casting too fast. She glanced at her stats and counted the seconds, it took three seconds after her latest cast for the regeneration to kick back in. She looked up at the trio heading her way as one of the Wightlings behind them crumpled to the ground beneath the wrath of her swarm. The last of the first grouping screamed and rolled on the ground, trying to force the mockeries off of its body.

Teyva looked between the three creatures heading her way, there was no frost on their bodies. She darted to the right, running toward the great tree and trying to keep some distance between herself and the monstrosities. When her mana hit thirty she turned and ripped off three more shots of [Pale Bolt] praying that at least one of them would trigger [Chilling Weakness]. Two of them failed, one managed to trigger and the creature stumbled a bit. Teyva chewed her lip and took a few more steps back, before readying herself for melee combat.

The first one leaped high while the other dove low, Teyva cursed, she hadn’t regenerated enough to cast [Grip of the Mimic]. She drove her weapon in the direction of one of them, catching it in the chest. The other landed on her chest and drove its claws in Nephral’s direction. The sphinx hissed and leaped into the air, flapping its wings. Teyva reached up with her free hand and grabbed the Wightling on the back, casting [Chilling Touch]. The creature screamed in agony as the most fetid stench Teyva had ever smelled erupted from its skin. It released Teyva and fell onto its back writhing. Its companion, recovered from her stab, charged at her again. Without thinking she snapped a kick out to the side of its head and darted left trying to get some distance.

Behind her, the creatures shrieked and resumed their pursuit. Nephral returned to her shoulder with a rushed apology. She watched her MP begin to climb again and glanced over her shoulder. The swarm had moved on from the last of the first group of Wightlings and were now coming down upon the one she had caught off guard with a [Pale Bolt]. The remaining two picked up their pace, their ooze-covered bodies shambling with their unnatural gait. She slid to a stop as her MP hit fifty and rounded on them. They weren’t far behind. She reached out with [Grasp of the Mimic] and snatched one of them up, squeezing down on its body while she slashed with an ice-covered blade, scraping the other and leaving a patch of frost on its skin.

The wightling gripped in her hand scrambled desperately to get to her while its companion dove past another icy strike and drove its fangs into her leg. She winced and glanced at her stats. Her health dropped but the poison didn’t trigger thanks to [Withering Halo]. With her health starting to regenerate immediately after the injury she drove her weapon down and into its back. She held the blade there, wrinkling her nose at the smell as the chill spread from the wound and took the Wightling’s life.

One left, she swung her oversized left arm and sent the remaining creature tumbling into the path of the Swarm. Teyva hazarded a look at her overall stats. Her health had stopped regenerating after the wightling died leaving her at sixty-one. Her mp was steadily rising past the forties and her stamina was dangerously close to bottoming out at fifteen. She felt her legs wobble beneath her while the surviving members of her swarm landed on the final wightling, putting it down.

She dropped to a knee and gasped, looking over her shoulder to see Azrael standing over her pool, scraped up but otherwise standing. Her lungs burned and the bite on her leg stung something fierce, but she was alive.

“Maybe I’m not so bad at this,” Teyva said as Azrael walked over. The Azar reached down and helped Teyva to her feet.

She grinned and clapped Teyva on the shoulder; “You’re not dead at least,” She quipped and turned to the opening at the base of the tree, a grinning Teyva close behind.