Chapter 015:
Anton and the villagers walked in silence back through the bone-yard. Most seemed happy that they would not have to be doing any fighting themselves. Only a few had actually killed something, and that was mostly when the Yellow Goblins attacked. Even then, it would have probably been one or two.
Watching, and being near, someone that had killed more than them, and more violently, had left its mark on the villagers. They kept their distance from Verona as they walked back to Atros.
Anton had sent Avery to the front to keep some sort of order. This left Anton and Verona alone at the back. She was still weak, Anton having to carry her underneath his arm just to get her to keep walking. Her first use of her power, whatever it really was, seemed to have greater side-effects than just seemingly becoming possessed.
Every so often she would groan in pain and her hands and arms would spasm. It took a lot out of her to control these, having to try and fight herself. The muscles on her neck tensed and tightened, before sinking back only to rise during the next spasm. Thankfully they were rapidly becoming less frequent. Anton used what mana he could spare to heal her, which seemed to help.
Every step seemed to be getting easier for her.
As they passed the last bone pile, she tapped his arm.
“I feel a bit better. I can walk by myself.”
He loosened his grip, allowing her to take a few tentative steps.
“I'm alright,” Verona said as she stopped and turned towards him.
She was about to say something else when another wave of spasms overtook her arms. He rushed forward and caught her weight under his arms.
Her body felt incredibly warm, even though her thick clothes. A quick glance at her face told him that it was not that bad, or she was very good at hiding the pain.
She shook her head as he slowly retracted.
“I'm starting to think that whatever this is,” Verona started rubbing her back, “Is not worth it.”
He tussled her head, Verona chuckling as she twisted and freed herself from his hand.
“We'll figure it out.” He said as he got her walking again.
She continued walking for a few paces before stopping and turning to face him. Leaning towards him she started ginning inanely.
“Got an idea for the name yet?” she asked. “How about...Blood Smasher?”
“I...really don't think so. You ripped someone’s arm off and smashed in a face all while you were in a trance.” He nodded towards the rest of the villagers, “I think that's why they're afraid of you.”
Verona looked towards them. She cocked her head before turning back to Anton.
“Didn't really think of that. Do you think that they're that afraid-”
A crack of thunder, from the south, stopped Verona. She ducked slightly along with the other villagers. They stopped and looked towards the south as well. Another lightning bolt landed close, only a few seconds gap between the flash and the clap.
Verona chuckled nervously.
“I thought that was you for a moment.”
Anton looked towards the south as well.
The thunderstorm had covered most of the south and everything was obscured by the rain. Lightning ran through the clouds and striking the ground, sending flashes of pinkish light and deep rumbling towards them.
“I wouldn't like to be out in that.” A villager said aloud. The others nodded in agreement.
A whistle from the front, probably from Avery, got the villagers moving again. Verona waited until she was next to Anton before she started walking again.
“I hope he freezes to death.” she said, a look of joy in her eyes, “I...”
“If we see him again, I'll kill him before he can open his mouth.”
She seemed very happy, even as another spasm overtook her right arm. It stopped as quickly as it came.
“How long do you think we'll need to figure this power out?” she asked.
“I actually have an idea. But I want to check back with the others first, make sure that Bertram and, more likely, Jeff, are okay.”
---[]---
Icy rain poured off of Jeffrey's head, soaking into his clothes. The very warmth from his life was being drawn out by the cold. Not even the constant eating of River-Rush made the feeling go away, not that he had much feeling left in his body. Every so often, something hard struck his body. Hail started to lightly cover the ground. The storm, raging above, was a bad one.
His perception of time had disappeared as well. He had no idea how far or how long he had been running. Every step seemed to thud into the ground, like it had turned into a swamp, requiring a colossal effort just to take another.
Thunder roared overhead, lighting the sodden grass and bushes in a flickering and sporadic fashion.
Over the sound of the thunder, he heard something heavy land behind him. For a moment he thought it was a pursing Thumper, but it was equally bad.
Another of his followers has succumbed to the cold. Of the dozen that had fled with him, only three were still alive. Now there was one less. They had just given up.
One of the survivors reached and grasped Jeffrey's shirt, the water gushing out of his sodden woollen clothes.
“The cold is in my bones...What...are...we.....”
Jeffrey turned to his side. The man had let go of his shoulder and had fallen face first onto the ground. He did not move as they continued running.
Looking towards, what he thought was the south, there was nothing that he could see. No signs of a city, village or even a small camp. He guessed that he should have reached, or at least be able to see, the source of the smoke.
This, this is all his fault. That's why I'm out here, in this freezing rain and not in the comfort of the village.
Another bolt of lightning crashed down in front of him.
I will not die here. I will not die here. I WILL NOT DIE HERE!
As he let out his mental cry, one of the people next to him shrieked in pain, her voice piercing over the rumbling of the thunder and the splashing of the rain. His heart started to race as he looked towards her.
She clutched at her head. Blood mixed with the pouring rain as it ran outside her hand. She pulled her hand away and looked stunned at the blood. That part of her head seemed odd like it had been dented.
As a lightning bolt flashed overhead something caught his eye, flying vertically through the rain. It was a dark rock, the wetness shining under the lightning the only way of identifying it.
The rock struck the woman between the eyes. A sickening crack reverberated through the air, even over another thunderbolt running through the clouds.
Not a sound came out of her as she fell backwards, dead.
Jeffrey tried his best to look through the heavy rain to see its source. Another large lightning bolt landed closely, roughly in the direction of the stone.
There were figures, dozens of them, moving rapidly towards them.
The cold and tiredness had hampered his ability to think straight. Another flash of lightning and he could see dozens of rocks flying towards him. He tried to dodge but it was too late.
He felt a rock collide with his arm, then his chest and stomach. Everything went white as he crashed onto the ground, the breath ripped from him. Unfortunately for him, his vision and thoughts returned.
Jeffrey looked around.
The other villager had not been hit, but was in a state of paralytic panic. No more rocks flew for some time.
Another flash of lightning and he saw the figures had gotten extremely close. Under the light, he could see that the figures were wearing raggedy and patchy coats, seemingly made out of some sort of fur. The water rolled off in great beads, keeping the green skin underneath dry.
It was when he saw the colour of the skin, Jeffrey began to lose all hope for his life. Their green faces were horribly deformed human ones, wearing nothing else but a loose cloth around their waists. He knew what they were, Green Goblins.
Over a dozen Green Goblins were approaching. He could see the slings and wooden weapons, held by their scrawny hands.
Two ran and clobbered the still standing man. His neck broke and fell lifelessly. The two immediately began to fight amongst themselves, others quickly running and joining in the fight. Some of the smaller Green Goblins skirted the growing scuffle and knelt down around the dead villagers. They bit into the flesh, ripping it with jagged teeth. Blood and chunks of flesh dripped out of their mouths as they began to devour the body. More and more Green Goblins swarmed the bodies, fighting for positions.
By the gods. Please, don't let this happen to me.
Several of the Green Goblins started to circle him. They poked him with their longest weapons, surprised when he coughed, swung and kicked in defiance.
A group of slightly larger and higher ranking, judging by the number of animal skulls hanging from their necks, pulled the others back. These four were armed with rusty swords and maces.
The impacts from the rocks felt like nothing, he knew his mind was telling his body to fight. As he struggled to his feet, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.
It was the same type as the same one that Cara had tried to kill Anton with. Thinking of him gave him the anger and rage needed to fight.
He held it in his right hand and readied himself to fight.
The Green Goblins, even those with the rusty weapons, held themselves back. He could see that there could be at least fifty of them.
Groups this size should have turned on each-other...but not if there's something strong to keep them in line. It shouldn't be one of these, but if I can intimidate them...
A wicked smile grew on his face. Even in the relative darkness of the raging storm, he could see them twist their face in confusion. They had no idea of what Jeffrey had planned for them.
“Well,” he said mockingly, biting on a whole stalk of River-Rush, “Who's going to be first?”
The four-armed Green Goblins looked at one another. One, with a large rusty sword, shrieked at the smaller Green Goblins still trying to feast on the body.
They quickly stopped and surrounded Jeffrey, the blood on their faces mixing with the rain and dripping down their faces.
“Come on!” Jeffrey yelled, hoping to start the fight evenly.
The smaller Green Goblins stayed still while the armed four advanced and surrounded him evenly.
Don't want to make this easy.
Hoping to take them to by surprise, he lunged at the goblin in front of him. He took two steps before his right ankle screamed in pain. As he tumbled he saw a rock, just like those to kill and wound his followers, covered in blood next to his ankle.
A goblin in the circle surrounding him had an empty sling and a disgustingly wicked smile on its deformed face.
Damn you!!!
An armed Green Goblin, to the right, swung his mace at his knee. He felt his bones and muscles break under the impact, his body crumpling and sliding on the wet grass. Chunks of dirt and grass filled his teeth.
Jeffrey rolled onto his back, coughing for breath.
The armed Green Goblins kept the others back as they advanced, stopping as they stood over him.
“Please,” Jeffrey whimpered through short breaths, “Don't hurt me.”
The goblins looked at one another and shrugged their shoulders.
Jeffrey's heart sank to an impossibly low place as they raised their weapons.
Why must I die like this?
The weapons cut and tore into his flesh. He tried to fight back, but his hands caught the spikes of the mace and were torn apart.
The last thing he saw was a sword, illuminated in the rain and a final burst of lightning, as it pierced his throat and into his spine.
Pain, excruciating pain. Then nothing.
---[]---
Atros's southern section of the wall was already under construction when they arrived. Zac was already in the process of unloading a full load of stone, using the villagers left on the perimeter as help. Those villagers seemed a little annoyed that they had to be lifting the heavy stone, rather than standing around on guard duty.
Zac gave him a wave, pointing towards the villagers who were laying the stone at the most southerly point. He yelled something and the villagers quickly removed the stone, making a small opening.
“We're leaving a gap here for the gate,” Zac shouted at Anton. He lightly slapped several of the villagers of the back of the head. They seemed to take it well.
“Felt that it would be good to have one on each direction,” he said rather proudly.
Avery kept the villagers moving into the village before turning back to meet with Anton, who had stopped when he passed Zac.
“I'm going to keep the archers training. Make sure that we are ready for the Yellow Goblins. I think I speak for everyone else that we'll be glad to be fighting non-humans again.”
“I hope it will be that way for some time as well. Verona did some serious shit back there.”
Avery nodded in agreement.
“I just head from someone that no-one's seen Jeff this morning,” Avery replied.
“That's right,” Zac continued, “I think that you should try and have a talk with him. Bertram and Jonathan are in the main plaza should you want to talk to them first. Also, what do you mean about Verona?”
Verona was not listening, keeping her attention towards the south and the growing thunderstorm.
“Talk to Avery about that one,” Anton said, tapping Verona lightly on her shoulder. “I'll explain everything tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll have figured out what happened to her.”
“Oh yes, I heard that she injured herself the other night,” Zac said looking towards Verona, perhaps wondering where the wound was.
“It's not that,” Anton replied. “Just ask the villagers, they'll tell you.”
Zac raised his bushy eyebrows in confusion, looking towards Avery. Avery took a deep breath and placed his hand on his shoulder.
Anton took Verona, who's attention was ripped away from the south as he bumped her shoulder, and led her to the plaza. She seemed quite happy as she walked beside him. The spasms had seemingly stopped, now she walked with quite the spring in her step.
In the distance, he could hear Zac shouting in surprise, presumably as Avery explained what Verona had done.
As they entered the main plaza, they found it a hive of activity. People were running in all directions, carrying chunks of burnt wood towards the north of Atros.
Verona glanced at Anton before tugging at his sleeve.
“Do you think there's another battle coming up?”
“Don't think so.” He scanned the crowd for Bertram and found him and Jonathan standing outside of the burned down barn, issuing orders to the villagers. “But let's find out.”
The pair walked through the bustling crowds to meet them. Some of the villagers stopped and looked at Verona. Anton could not help a sense of apprehension in their eyes. He was an anomaly in their lives, so he could do strange things. But she was someone that they had lived with all their lives, now has completely changed. He sighed inwardly. There was nothing he could do, at least until she figured out her newfound powers.
Bertram and Jonathan finished giving the orders before turning their attention to Anton and Verona.
“Is it over?” Bertram asked. He looked like he had aged several years overnight.
“We took out a few,” Anton replied, “The rest ran through the Thumpers and into the storm.”
He cocked his head back to the south, the clouds were continuing to spread.
“I don't want to be out in that, especially if what everyone says is true.”
“Well,” Jonathan kicked at the dirt, “That should be the last time we hear of that. Unfortunately, other things have happened this morning. Some quite serious.”
“Such as?” Verona asked.
“For one,” Jonathan replied, “Jeff is holed up in his house and doesn't want to come out. That also leads us to problem number two.”
Bertram coughed and continued, “About eighty Yellow Goblins, all wearing animal skin armour, have been seen lurking around the closest ridge. The scouts had to pull back for safety, and we think there's another group of almost eighty as well roaming about. This storm seems to have pushed them back to the mountain, but I guess it won't be long before they attack properly.”
Anton placed his hand on his chin. With everything that had happened, he had not noticed that he had started to grow a beard. Another problem, though not as big as the problems facing him right now.
“I take it we have people on the wall keeping watch?”
Bertram nodded. “On all sections of the wall and in all directions. We don't want them to burst through another area that we're not watching.”
“I think that we can consider problem two sorted, for now at least. I'll try and talk to Jeff. His current mood is partly my fault.”
“Thank-you,” Bertram said, the added years lifting instantly. “Just don't do anything too bad. He's my only son. He lives straight towards the north, it's the one with the big skull on the front.”
---[]---
Both of them found the house after a little searching. It looking like every other house did not help, except the large skull hanging over the front door.
“I like the skull,” Verona said offhandedly.
Anton heard something, like wood clunking on wood, coming from inside.
A mug maybe. Hope he's not drinking himself to death.
He stepped up and knocked on the door. A moment later he heard movement, coming towards the door. It opened, Sam smiling and greeting them.
“Hey Anton.” she leant down slightly, “Hello Verona.”
Sam grabbed Verona by the head and brought her into an embrace, Verona not having time to react. She looked at Anton with some fear, though relaxed after a few moments, realizing that there was no ill intent.
Eventually, after nuzzling into Verona's hair, Sam stopped moving but kept her arms wrapped her head. She started to swing either side, Verona's face forming a feigned scowl.
“You need to tell me how you get your hair so soft. Oh, a little blood.” Sam gave a final rub of her head before letting go and giving her a little push towards Anton. Verona stumbled but Anton caught her.
Sam smiled. “I take it you're hear to talk to Jeff? He's quite down at the moment, though I don't really know why. Jeffrey gave me the creeps.”
She sighed and took a deep breath. “And, he's not listening to me, just drinking. Can you have a talk to him? See if that gets something out of him.”
“Sure,” Anton replied, “I'll give it a go.”
“He's on the right as you go in,” Sam said as Anton entered, Verona following.
“Hold up there you.” Sam grabbing Verona, stopping her from entering. “This is something just between boys. Besides, I have a few questions to ask you.”
Verona looked desperately at Anton.
“It'll be fine,” Anton said grinning, “I trust her.”
He put emphasis on trust, Sam picking up his meaning.
“It's just girl talk, head on in now.” Sam wrapped her arm Verona's head, using the other to shoo Anton in. She moved towards two chairs on the porch.
Now that's just code for gossip and stuff. They won't be talking while I'm here. Better stop procrastinating.
Anton took a deep breath and entered the house.
The inside was only marginally decorated, mainly with skulls and other trophy like ornaments. There was a single hallway, leading to a room to the left, right and the back. Noise came from the right.
As he turned the corner to the right, the smell of alcohol burned his nose. There was a long wooden table in the middle with six chairs sitting around it. Jeff sat at the end, a large wooden mug and a barrel, full of the drink that burned like fire, at his side. From the way Jeff hunched over the table and swayed from side to side, he evidently had already drunk quite a bit.
He noticed Anton enter, raising his head and rubbing his eyes to become as alert as the alcohol would allow him.
“Hey, Anton.” Jeff spoke, relatively clearly, “I take it that since you're here that it's over with?”
Anton found an empty mug underneath the table, poured himself a drink and took a chair next to him.
“Yeah. That should be the last we hear of him and his followers.”
Anton took a sip, the drink burning just like he remembered.
“What do you mean, 'should'?”
“I killed a few, the others escaped south and were torn apart by rampaging Thumpers. The rest are caught up in the storm, with no shelter for tens of miles in any direction.” Anton leant back in his chair. “I think that it's safe to say they're done.”
Jeff let out a low grunt.
Neither said anything for some time, each taking small sips of their drinks.
“I'm sorry,” Jeff said, downing the remains of his drink. “I really shouldn't be drinking myself to death over this. I just grew up with him, and he seemed nice enough. Stopping him from making a riot was fine. Killing him was a step too far, for me though.”
Anton drunk what was left in the mug. “Killing someone that you trusted is not something you can ever get used too.”
Jeff chuckled, looking into the empty mug. “No. No, it's not. Do you know something about it?”
Anton hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “I don't really remember, but I may have.”
Jeff looked even more sombre.
“What is this stuff anyway,” Anton asked, trying to change the topic.
“Something that Zac cooks up. Doesn't tell us what it's made from, but it's bloody strong.”
“That it is.” Anton felt the after-taste come up.
Jeff slammed the mug down.
“That's enough mopping around, this won't get anything done.” Jeff said, wiping his mouth, “Guess I look like a little girl to the others.”
“Well, I wouldn't say that.”
Jeff looked angrily at Anton for just a moment, before erupting in laughter. He leant over and shook him heartily before pouring them both another mug.
“Ah, that shit's strong. By the way, where is Verona?” Jeff asked, slapping his face with both hands, “She definitely would have followed you, doesn't seem like much would stand in her way. She's become quite attached to you, first time I've seen her so happy in a long time.”
Jeff downed the mug in one go.
“Come on,” he said, getting out of his chair with a little sway, “We'd better go save her then. Sam can be a little aggressive when she wants to get some gossip.”
When Anton, and a slightly drunk Jeff, exited the house they found Verona and Sam happily chatting outside.
“Hey,” Sam noticed them first, standing up and hugging Jeff, “I thought you would stay like that all day.”
Jeff returned the hug and kissed her deeply. She chuckled, wiping her mouth. “I can taste that stuff in your mouth.”
“Sorry. Just got a little caught up with myself. Feel quite a bit better now.”
That's just the booze starting to kick in. Helped your mind clear though, thankfully.
They appeared quite happy together, slowly nuzzling while in each-others embrace. Verona looked a little awkward as she walked back to Anton's side.
“Anything interesting?” Anton asked. He did not expect a proper answer, asking out of politeness.
“A few things.” Verona looked at Sam, still in Jeff's embrace. “But I'm not meant to tell you.”
“That's fine. Jeff, when you're ready can you get some training in with the other villagers before the storm hits?”
Jeff reluctantly broke his embrace and nodded towards Anton. Sam rushed and hugged Anton lightly.
Anton did not miss the glance she made to Verona. Verona frowned and pouted ever so slightly, but when his eyes met hers, she stopped.
“Thanks,” she whispered into his ear, “Seeing him down was getting to me. Now, run along you two. Jeff and I need to 'make-up'.”
She leaned into Anton's ear. Sam patted him on the back before trotting back to Jeff's embrace.
“Just so you know, I never like Jeffrey anyway.”
Jeff looked quite slyly at Sam, who slapped him on the bum as he started to walk to the north.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Have fun you two,” Anton yelled back as he made his way to the south. He looked over his shoulder when he did not hear footsteps beside him. Verona was still next to Sam and looking far into the distance. Sam noticed Anton looking and bumped Verona on the back. Verona jolted when she was touched, glancing at Sam, who lent down and whispered something into her ear. Verona nodded and ran to catch up with Anton.
Sam looked quite sheepish as she watched Verona catch up with Anton.
I hope you haven't taught her anything weird.
He looked down at Verona, she looked happily at him though he noticed that her face had a hint of redness.
---[]---
Anton found Bertram and Jonathan outside the burned barn, still directing traffic. Bertram seemed incredibly relieved to hear that his son was better. Anton did admit that he was probably about to come out anyway and that he actually did very little.
The storm only seemed about an hour or two away, hopefully enough to start to figure out Verona's new powers.
He wanted somewhere that would be large enough, had no people and would be safe if Verona got out of control. Every building that stood was already being used for an important purpose, and he did not want to do it inside the Main Hall.
However, it did give him an idea. He took Verona behind the Main Hall, in front of the Karak tree. There were no villagers coming through this area, and it was more than large enough to start practising. Potential damage to the tree was an issue, so Anton led them as far away as possible while still being in the vicinity.
He took Verona's spear and leant it against a building, there would be time for using that later.
“How do you feel right now?” Anton asked. He wanted to make sure that she did not push her body too far, especially considering what he knew she could do.
Verona jumped and stretched her arms, she looked okay.
“I feel pretty good. We gonna' try now?”
“You bet. What do you remember just before you started using the powers?”
She looked up at the sky with a vacant expression.
“Something odd. I think I've got it. It's hard to describe, but there's something that I can grab hold of. With my mind? I'll be careful.”
“Just be careful about overdoing it.”
She stood still for some time, for what he thought was almost an hour. Occasionally her head would twitch but nothing seemed to change.
Just when Anton was about to say something, the tattoos around her wrist and neck flickered for the briefest instant. She opened her eyes at looked straight at Anton.
“I felt that!” She rolled her sleeves up and rubbed the exposed sections of the blood tattoos. “There was something and I actually got hold of it.”
“That's great.” Anton said with enthusiasm, “Just take it steady.”
“Okay.” She started to calm down with slow and deep breathing.
She closed her eyes again. Red flickered within the tattoos, growing in intensity and regularity.
Slowly it became a steady but bright glow, piercing through her clothes. As she opened her eyes he was greeted with the blood red, but without the insanity behind them.
“This...this feels strange,” Verona said tentatively, slowly moving her arms as she walked around in circles.
“Can you see anything different?” Anton asked as he gently held her hands. She grinned from ear to ear as she looked at her glowing tattoos.
“Everything looks the same...I feel a little lighter though.”
“At least it seems like you can turn whatever it is on. Can you get rid of the glow for me?”
Verona closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. The glow quickly receded. As she opened her eyes he saw the redness recede to the edges of her eyes.
“Alright, can you bring it back?”
This time Verona did not close her eyes. He watched the tattoos begin to glow and the redness fill her eyes, like ink being absorbed into the paper. He had not seen it happen this way before. They way it seemed to take over her beautiful blue eyes was unsettling, to say the least.
“I got it under control, I think.”
“Just make sure that it doesn't hurt you in some way. If it does, don't use it.”
Anton took a few steps back and grabbed the spear. Verona retook her weapon with a sense of hesitation.
“You had a lot of strength when you first used that power.”
Anton found a spare plank of rotten wood lying at the base of a building, laying it up right next to the building.
“Try smashing that. Let's see how it affects your strength.”
Verona, keeping the glow as bright and steady as she could, walked up to the plank with her spear lowered. She took a deep breath and swung the spear with both hands, using all the might she could muster as the muscles along her arms tensed.
The tip connected with the large plank. Instead of smashing through the weakened wood, it merely tumbled and rolled onto the ground. The spear wobbled ever so slightly after the strike.
Verona looked stunned as she brought the spear back to her side. She clenched and stretched her hands.
“That really hurt. Everything else I've tried to cut or stab actually did that.”
“Odd,” Anton said aloud, “you should have been able to smash that, considering what you did to that woman's arm.”
“Hang on, let me have another go.”
Verona raised her spear and thrust it at the plank of wood over and over again. Each time she hit the metal dip dug in, sending chips and bursts of rotten wood into her face. No matter how much she tried, she could not recreate the immense amount of power she had displayed.
Eventually, after much swearing and smashing, the plank broke in two. Verona's face was covered in sweat, the rest of her body appeared to be the same.
“I can't seem to do it,” Verona said, stopping her attacks. She checked her tattoos, realizing that they were still glowing brightly.
“We'll work on that later...do you remember the other thing you did?”
Her face darkened a little as she looked towards him.
“The part where, somehow, I made blood crystals and ripped somebody apart from the inside with them?”
Anton awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.
“My memory is a little foggy, but I still remember that.”
“Basically...yes.”
Verona's expression returned to normal. She looked around, causing Anton to raise an eyebrow in response.
“I don't have any blood to use.”
“Oh, right.”
Anton walked up and grabbed the knife from Verona's waist. She looked bemused, raising her arms in response. He held out his finger, the blade's edge upon it.
“Wha-” was all that Verona could say.
He cut lightly into his hand, enough for a small drop of blood to form.
“Why did-,” she said, concern on her face, before realizing what he was doing, “Oh, I understand.”
“Just try to get this little drop to do something and not the exploding crystal thing. If it looks like it's getting out of control, I will shock you to get you to stop.”
Instead of anger at him threatening to shock her, she seemed quite revealed. Evidently, she did not feel that confident about her potential control of her powers. After watching Anton's attempts at discovering and controlling his own powers, perhaps it was understandable.
She walked up to him and held both hands around his finger. Frowning with exertion and concentration, she groaned as she tried to make it do something. She grew increasingly frustrated as nothing happened.
With her finger, she collected as much of the blood as she could and held it on her own finger, staring intently at the blood. Nothing happened again. She grumbled and wiped it on her clothes, starting to pace in front of him.
Anton used the prayer power to heal the small wound.
“Okay, Okay,” she mumbled allowed, occasionally glancing at Anton, “I first could do it when...”
Verona stopped and looked at Anton.
“When?” Anton asked, trying to keep her thinking.
“After I stabbed the woman with my spear. The blood that I first used was from the wound, I think. So...”
Verona offered the spear to Anton. He took it off her and used the edge to make another cut into his hand.
She stretched out her hands and tried to get the blood to move, but she could not.
“Ugh, how easy was it for you?” she asked, folding her arms and starting to pace again.
“I had gods to help me understand the basics, but even then there are things I have to do before I can use magic. Like having to form the magic into specific shapes, then I can use different types of magic. Perhaps yours has some specific thing you have to do first.”
Verona started then stopped pacing, taking back the spear.
“I used the spear so...”
With some trepidation, she ran the edge of the spear against Anton's hand, enough to draw some blood. She looked a little nervous as she moved her hand over his.
Nothing happened for a second. Verona's eyes shot open, looking straight at his hand. Small droplets of blood started to lift themselves off his hand and around hers. The action was so astounding for her that she dropped the spear.
She took several steps back, playing with the small droplets that she moved between her hand. The droplets formed into three and swirled around one hand before flying over to the other.
“I knew I could do it!” Verona triumphantly exclaimed. “I guess that the spear allows me to do it.”
She looked straight at Anton for a moment.
“You said I had a spear on the mark. Do you think that's why?”
“It could be.” Anton agreed.
He turned the healing power on himself, quickly healing his wounds.
Verona turned her attention back to the droplets. They fused into one. Her tattoos glowed a little brighter, the blood quivering and solidifying into a long crystal, just like the ones she used to destroy the woman's head.
She moved the crystal to the centre of her hands, which she held cupped in front of her. The crystal spun faster and began to form ever more complex shapes, her tattoos flickering every time it changed. She stopped as it formed what he thought was a tiny flower, made from blood.
Verona's smiled as she looked at Anton, slowly pushing it towards him. He tentatively touched it, incredibly hard and sharp.
“That was easier than I thought.” She brought her hand up and rubbed her head. “Though, this is taking it out of me.”
The crystal quivered and returned to a droplet. She kept it in her hands as she looked expectantly at Anton.
He healed his wound, handing Verona the knife and swapping it for the spear. Inspecting the spear, he found nothing of note about it.
Verona's mouth twitched as she rubbed her back.
“What's wrong?”
“My back, right in the middle, just felt like it got hit with something...Can you have a look?”
She turned around and lifted the back of her shirt. The spear within the blood droplet had changed to a knife, just like the one she now wielded.
“Okay, Verona. I want to try something else.” Anton pricked his finger with the spear. “Can you try with this one?”
“Sure.”
Pushing the droplet to the side, and putting the knife on her waist, she put her hand over his hand. She tried to bring the blood up but could not.
After a few seconds, she gave up, looking quite dejected.
Anton wiped the blood on his clothes and healed his wound.
He got Verona to use the knife to create another drop of blood.
This one she could bring up, making both of them dance around each other.
He handed back the knife, then the spear. Verona winced a little.
“Same feeling?”
“Yeah.” Verona rubbed her back lightly before looking straight at him. “You look like you have an idea.”
“Show me the mark again.”
This time the mark within the blood drop had changed back to the spear.
Okay, I think that I understand how it works. Rather a specific activation to use it though.
Anton got her to lower her shirt.
“I've just had a thought. Could you try pricking your own finger with the spear.”
Verona nodded, creating a small drop of blood. She held her other hand over the blood.
Her whole body hunched over as though she had just been punched in the gut. She used the spear to steady herself as Anton rushed forward to help her up. The blood droplets quivered but remained hovering and under her control.
“Ugh...that was not good.” Verona coughed as she righted herself.
“What was that?”
“Something screamed in my head.” Verona rubbed her head with her spare hand. “Then it hit me in the chest...I don't think I can use my own blood.”
“Well...I suppose using your own blood to fight would kill you pretty quickly.”
Verona nodded, not wanting to try again. She licked the blood off her finger then held out her hand, for Anton to heal.
“One thing before we start the next part, how much effort does it to require to move and change the blood?”
Verona thought long and hard before answering.
“Just moving the blood and making it hard doesn't take too much. But making the flower took a bit out of me.”
If to demonstrate, she merged the two droplets of blood and made them crystallize. The crystal was not very thick, but it looked impossibly sharp. It should be able to puncture through just about any sort of flesh.
“Well, your understanding of how to move and control it is coming along extremely quickly, so that's good.”
Verona kept the crystal in front of her as she lowered her hands.
“But?”
“But it seems like yours is rather more complicated than my magic in order to function.”
Verona pursed her lips and frowned.
“The mark on your back, the one you can't see, by the way, has whatever weapon you hold on it. That's what the little jolt was.”
“Okay...”
“And that's the only one that you can use to get blood that you can control, not just any blood. If you change weapons, you can keep control of the blood you already have under control. The god probably thinks that's too easy for you if it's just any blood..” Anton said the last part offhandedly.
Verona grumbled but still seemed happy.
“It may change in time, like how I could use the flame pillars. I would like to see if you can control blood released from the blood you control, some sort of runaway reaction...that would be devastating.”
She seemed a little happier though she did not seem to understand the meaning of the last part.
“It seems pretty simple. I'll just stick to this spear then.” She twirled the spear in her hands. “And, since you can't tell how draining it its, like I can't tell how much mana you have, changing the shape of the blood doesn't seem to be that difficult, but making them change into more...complex...shapes takes a bit more effort. It seemed just as easy to control two as one, though controlling hundreds might be a little difficult.”
“Good to know Ver.” He rubbed her head vigorously, proud of her deductions, “You should probably keep the knife, just in case. I should probably get one myself.”
Thunder roared at the edge of the village, only a few kilometres away. He had been so distracted by trying to figure out her magic that he had not noticed it move so much closer, nor the change in temperature.
“I think that wraps it up for today,” Anton said as he grabbed the planks of wood and moved them off the road, Verona quickly helping him.
“I think we'll do some more tests, like how many, large, shapes and what sort of limitations exist can be found out later.”
The first drop of water hit his head, telling him they should be getting inside. Anton noticed that Verona still had the two blood shards above her head.
“Hey, can you get rid of those?”
“Hmm?” Verona looked up and saw them, “Oh right.”
She moved them in front and transformed them back into droplets. A single large drop of water collided with one of the blood droplets, sending it tumbling and splattering onto the ground. The other remained stationary in the air.
Verona looked stunned.
“I...I lost control of it. That's not good for me, is it?”
Anton nodded in agreement. The other had not been hit by water yet.
“Quickly, turn that one into a crystal.”
Verona nodded as the blood crystallized and turned as flat and as wide as it could so it could be more easily struck by the water. She moved it well in front of her and looked up at the sky. More drops of rain started to fall down all around them.
Eventually one landed on the crystal, running along and off onto the ground. The crystal remained stationary, much to the surprise of Verona.
“So...what's happening?” She asked.
“Change it back to the liquid just for a moment.”
She did so, almost immediately being struck by another droplet. This one fell to the ground as well.
“It felt like it was ripped away, like I never had control of it in the first place.”
Anton rubbed his chin, motioning for Verona to move as well.
“I think that when the water mixes with the blood, technically it's no longer just the blood that you have taken. Maybe. Seems a little odd though, but with practice, you may be able to rip the blood back out of the water.”
Verona nodded in understanding. Judging her expression, she had it mostly figured out but just wanted confirmation.
“For now, keep an eye out for water or just keep it in the crystal form when there's water.”
“Makes sense,” Verona said offhandedly. “Except-”
“You've seemingly lost that tremendous level of strength?”
Verona seemed quite dejected about that one.
“I think that, whatever god or deity has taken favour with you, was granting you that strength. Like a trial. That's why you always seemed to be in a trance when you fought. And now you have the power, it's gone.”
“That's...okay. I guess. I'll just have to be careful when I fight.” She looked at her arms and the rest of her body. “I'll have to start strengthening my body.”
She glanced up and down his body. “You need to as well.”
“Hmm?”
“I told you that I would help you, even if that only means getting you stronger. If you want to wield a knife or sword properly you're going to need to be stronger.”
Verona flexed her arms and lifted the spear.
“Both of us.”
There was almost a melancholic tone to her voice. She took a deep breath and relaxed. The glow receded and her body returned to normal.
The main plaza was quickly becoming deserted of villagers as the rain started to increase. Those few that were still outside were sending increasingly worried looks towards the storm as they went about their business.
Bertram and Sybil stood outside the Main Hall, underneath the overhanging roof. Anton and Verona jogged to them as the rain continued to increase.
Just as they made it underneath to cover, Jeff came around the corner leading several dozens armed villagers, training them despite the rain. He seemed to have recovered quite well.
When he saw Anton he waved, though continued his jog. The other villagers seemed to lack his enthusiasm.
“I'm so glad to see him better,” Bertram said, looking quite happy.
“He was fine” Anton replied. A lightning bolt landing close to the village distracted his thoughts. “How bad is this going to get?”
Sybil coughed to get their attention. “Shouldn't be too bad. Quite a lot of rain though. Hope the water doesn't get in.”
It was a possibility. When Anton had been up there it was only straw and it had not rained here before, so he had no idea if even his room would leak.
The rain started to pour down, so hard that it began to obscure the other side of the plaza.
Jeff, still visible through the rain, shook his hands, the other villagers stopping their jogging and running away towards their houses. He laughed as he made it underneath cover, hugging his father and mother.
“Hey, Mum and Dad. Thought we could squeeze a training session before the rain...but it looks like it came a little quicker than I thought.”
“It's fine dear,” Sybil said, patting her son on the back.
“Do we still have people on the wall, even in this?” Anton asked.
Jeff turned to him. “Yeah, we got some Thumper and leather hides that will keep the water off. They're quite old though.”
Bertram looked at Anton as well. “Everyone that knew how to do that sort of stuff is dead, so...”
“As long as they're not getting drenched out there.”
Jeff looked out into the rain.
“I'm sure they're fine. The Yellow Goblins took note of the storm and fled back to the mountain. We've still got some eyes on them just in case.”
He glanced down at Verona, his head stopping when he saw the dull blood tattoos on her neck.
“What happened to you?” He asked, peering at the tattoos. “Did a thumper have a go at your neck?”
He sounded more concerned as he looked at Verona's arms, who still had her sleeves rolled up.
“Oh...um?” Verona stammered out, looking towards Anton for guidance.
“It's an interesting story.” Anton pitching in. “Basically, I think she's a mage, of sorts.”
Jeff did not look convinced, nor reassured by what he said.
“We're still experimenting. But, she seems to be able to manipulate blood under certain circumstances.”
The three looked quite shocked at Verona, who returned as warm a smile as she could. Anton could see that she seemed very proud about it.
“That explains the stories then,” Jeff said, Anton raising an eyebrow.
“Some of the villagers are quite scared of her after watching her rip someone's arm off.”
Sybil started to give Anton death glares. She had told him to look after her.
“Then make that person's body explode in blood crystals then shred their head into the ground.”
Verona tried and failed to whistle innocently. Sybil looked like she was about to strangle Anton.
“I...really wasn't in control of myself. I've gotten better already though, thanks to Anton.”
She flared the tattoos to a bright but steady glow. The three looked quite shocked, especially as they watched Verona's eyes go red.
“Did you do this?” Sybil asked Anton, quite angrily.
“No, No I don't think so.”
Verona took this as an instruction, breathing deep as the glow faded.
“I believe that she's got it under control.”
They all relaxed, Verona looking quite happy that they were not thinking of her as some sort of threat.
Nobody said anything as the rain continued to pour down. It sounded quite different from the tile or tin roofs that he was used to, but it was still a relaxing sound.
That reminds me, with Verona not being able to use liquid blood in the rain, how do I fare?
“Um, you all might want to stand back a bit. I need to try out my own magic in this rain.”
Everyone, except Verona, took several large steps back.
He formed a small fireball and pushed it into the now torrential rain. The ball sizzled, with large bursts of smoke erupting where the rain hit it. The impacts reverberated through his mana connection. In order to keep it going, he had to continue to feed it mana, just as it was being ripped away.
“So, it's still just fire that I made. It can still be put out with water.”
He let the fireball continue to get smaller and smaller, eventually fizzling out. The disappearance of the fireball, without him controlling it, felt incredibly weird.
He summoned a small lightning bomb and pushed it out into the rain. This did not have too much of an effect. The mana required was perhaps a little more and it started to behave a little erratically but nothing too dramatic.
Finally he stopped, the others looking expectantly at him.
“Turns out that my magic is not separate from the laws of the world.”
“That's...good to know,”Jeff said.
“Anyway,” Bertram continued, “With this rain, we won't be having dinner.”
Verona let out an audible sigh.
“But we still have some here inside, just in case.”
“Yes!” Verona cried.
“I need to get back home, someone’s waiting for me,” Jeff said as he ran out into the rain, waving good-bye, which his parents returned.
Anton opened the door and waited for them to enter. “Well, what have we got on the menu today?”