Chapter 94: Memories in the Moonlight

Sometimes, all you need is a plan. Good plan, bad plan, it doesn’t matter. Just charge in there and get it done.

-Tenor “The Blade” Erickson

Markon roared, trying to pull his great sword out of the smoky monster’s grasp. The blade would not budge, and the potion monster grinned evilly, its red maw spreading into a toothy smile.

“This one’s for you, Markon,” it said. The potion monster reared up a fist the size of a small boulder, and punched the large man in the face.

Markon yelled, and flew back, striking the wall of the courtyard, his sword falling from his hand.

“Christie!” Shouted Claire, pointing at Ethan. “Watch out!”

The pyromancer was muttering to himself while he held a growing fireball in his hands. The fireball pulsed with energy, and Ethan’s eyes nearly glowed such was his concentration.

“Too slow,” said Christie from within the potion monster. Suddenly it’s two massive arms split into separate appendages, giving her monster four arms instead of two. The two on her left shot from her body, extending like rubber, and wrapped themselves around Ethan, fireball and all.

“Damn!” Hissed Ethan, just as the fireball exploded.

Chase jumped away, covering his eyes as he did so. He shouted at his guild to get down. The heat of the explosion felt as though it were searing the back of his neck, and once the light had faded he glanced behind him to see a furious looking Ethan still in Christie’s clutches.

Christie had both of the Followers in her grasp. Markon’s was wrapped up in her arms to her right, while the pyromancer was in her left. Suddenly she raised her arms and both men rose into the air, struggling in her grasp.

“I hope you enjoy this one,” said Christie, laughing to herself, yet the sound from the potion monster sound like rusty metal grating together.

The two men slammed into one another, their heads colliding at high speed. Again and again Christie smashed them into one another, laughing darkly the entire time as the men gasped and screamed.

“Incredible,” said Marlon, helping Chase to his feet. “Never thought I would see something like this. It’s like some kind of hilarious fever dream.”

“There is something quite comical about it,” admitted Thomas. He winced as the men’s heads made a crack as Christie slammed them together again. He lowered his voice and added, “what is this? Like a special move of hers or something?”

“Yeah, or something,” said Chase. “I’ve never seen her like this before.”

SLAM! SLAM! CRASH! BOOM!

“They are still conscious,” said Amelie, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Their defense buffs are high,” said Brent, arms crossed and a smile on his face. Their escape from certain death was not lost on him, and he even giggled uncharacteristically. “Could be a while before either of them black out.”

Markon began to yell, his face bloody as the pounding continued.

“You! Ouch!…Can’t…Ah!…do...this…FOREVER!”

The big man had suddenly freed his hand, and like a comet coming from the sky a laser erupted from his hand. The laser sliced the ground before Christie, sending up the courtyard stones into her face, and barely missing her by a few inches. The potion monster screamed, and dropped both of the men.

“Ethan! Crossbeams!” Shouted Markon, pulling himself to his feet. He pointed a finger at the still writhing Christie.

Ethan nodded, having landed on his feet, and raised a finger. A glowing light appeared there to match the one from Markon.

Markon said, “Crossbeam…”

“Of light!” Finished Ethan, and the beams struck one another in the air, making an energy ball which hovered in the air before Christie. It appeared as though the air around the energy ball pulsed with life, and the heat caused a mirage within the courtyard. Chase could see the light waving between the energy ball and Christie’s potion monster.

The energy ball shot out, and caught Christie in the midriff. Her smoky arms tried to grab the energy ball that was boring into her stomach, and her monster’s face was contorted in pain. A great scream came from it’s mouth and a light burst from within it. Chase and his guild had to cover their eyes as the light burst to all corners of the courtyard.

When the light was gone, Chase opened to eyes. The courtyard was empty but for Markon and Ethan, both breathing heavily and staring at the spot where the potion monster had been. Not a trace of it remained.

“Well…then,” said Ethan tiredly. His clothes were ripped and he was covered in blood from his head to his chest. “We vaporized her.”

“Seems…so,” said Markon. He was looking even worse than Ethan, and his legs appeared to be shaking. “I wasn’t sure that Crossbeam was going to work.”

“Well, it did,” said Ethan. “Our Lady of Light armed us well.”

“Yes,” said Markon. He turned around, a craggy smile on his face as he looked at the Seven Banes. “Guess your last hope was extinguished, eh? Wasn’t seeing that coming, but she didn’t have a chance. Didn’t think I’d be killing an Old Guard today.”

“It is a testament to Lady Xemnara’s power,” said Ethan in awe. He was looking at his hands. “Her Followers Contract is even more powerful than an OP player. Who can stand against us?”

“No one,” said Markon, spitting to the side. “Now then, we can finish what we started. Again,” he added darkly. He went to retrieve his sword. “Ethan, after this is over we are spending a week in an inn. Let’s go to Killhiem. I got some friends up there who would love to join us. Call it a recruiting mission. Ethan?”

The pyromancer was frozen in place, his mouth open. Behind him was another potion monster, smaller than the last one, but it’s arms were in the shape of blades instead of hands. Ethan’s head had been sliced from it’s shoulders. It fell to the ground, his body tumbling over to lay beside it.

”Fool,” hissed the potion monster. “You thought that little trick was going to end me?”

“She’s alive!” Cheered Amelie, choking back a sob.

“Everyone into the room!” Said Chase. “This is about to get hairy. Come on!”

Chase herded the guild into the room, where Astor’s body still lay. Amelie shuddered as she saw it but soon the entire guild was huddled against the far wall. Chase and the Fighters peeked around the wall to watch the fight. Christie’s potion monster had been joined by two others, both with that same smoky skin. The one that had killed Ethan still had arms that were in the shape of blades. The one beside it, slowly circling around to Markon, had thick shoulders and arms. The third one was tall and slender, and appeared to be firing bolts of darkness at Markon who was trying to dodge the projectiles.

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“Incredible!” Said Marlon, looking over Chase’s shoulder. “I have read about these things but never in my wildest life thought I would see them in Avalon.”

“Potion monsters,” said Chase, nodding his head as he watched the battle unfold. “They changed the game when they were invented. I think Christie is only one of maybe three players who can brew them.”

“They really make a potion maker into a force to be reckoned with,” said Marlon. He gasped as the monster with blades stabbed Markon, yet was shot with a laser though it’s middle.

“They can, yes,” said Chase, nodding his head. “I had no idea she could do half of this, though. We used them for training back in the day. Seems she has upgraded her skills without telling me.”

“I mean, you’re still dead to her,” chuckled Brent from next to Chase. “And you haven’t told her you’re alive. Why would she tell about this?”

“Fair point,” admitted Chase.

“I really want to learn about the player who invented these things,” continued Marlon.

“You’re looking at her,” said Chase with a small smile. He felt a rush of pride as Marlon nearly swooned with surprise.

“Truly? She must be a genius’s genius!”

“She is a Potion Master,” said Chase. “Only one in all of Esem.”

“Incredible,” repeated Marlon. “Oh my!”

Christie’s potion monsters had swarmed Markon and were wailing on him with abandon. It was impressive, but Chase saw a problem. The Follower did not seem to be nearing his limit, and his energy was only increasing. He had even recovered his sword and was preparing to swing and block the blows of his attackers.

“I wonder what kind of power gives him strength,” muttered Chase. “We really have no idea of knowing what the extent of the Followers strength are.”

“Should we try to help her?” Asked Claire, looking up at Chase.

Chase thought a moment, and his eyes alighted upon Astor’s crossbow, still where Claire had set in on the ground after taking it from Amelie.

“Hand me that thing,” said Chase, pointing at the weapon. He stooped over Astor’s body and started looking for his quiver. It was strapped to his side and was brimming with crossbow bolts.

“What are you thinking?” Said Thomas, handing him the crossbow.

Chase began to wind the lever which drew the string back. It was a heavy crossbow, and took him close to half a minute to bring the string all the way back. He placed the bolt in the slot and inspected it.

“I’m gonna give Christie some support.”

“What if you hit her?” Said Amelie with alarm. She was eying the crossbow, no doubt remembering what she had done to Astor with it.

Chase eyed the potion monsters. They were now having trouble keeping Markon at bay, his wild swings slashing though their smoky skin. She was no doubt within one of them, and the right swing could easily kill her if she was not careful.

“I can do it,” said Chase. “I’ve had harder shots, in case you didn’t know.”

“We aren’t doubting you can do it,” said Brent, sounding uneasy. “But should you?”

One of the potion monsters screamed, and the guild saw it dissipating in the wind. Markon had slashed it through the neck and now it was dissembling, it’s red eyes wide and its arms reaching futilely towards the sky.

“I have to,” said Chase. He added, “cover me,” has he stepped outside the room, though he knew the words were meaningless. Chase carefully stepped to the side of Moonshine’s stable. He hadn’t shot a crossbow in years, but fortunately they were simple. He sighted down the shaft and waited for the perfect time to pull the lever. He saw Markon’s face, and then the back of the large potion monster, and the Markon and then the other monster. The scene was a flurry of arms and swords and magic.

Suddenly the crossbow began to shake. He sighed. His hand was shaking again. He let go of the crossbow and waited for the tremors to pass. As he did so his memories of the Old Guard came back to him. Fighting Oscruo in Darkcradle castle, saving the lives of his friends. If only Christie could know what was going on inside his head at that moment.

“Psst, are you okay?” Whispered Claire, peering at him from around the corner of the wall.

Chase waved his hand. The shaking was gone.

Markon lunged for one of the potion monsters, barely missing it with his sword.

“You can’t kill me, Christie,” he roared. He swung his sword again, this time catching the bladed monster in a parry. It shrieked at him.

“I don’t want to kill you, fool,” said Christie form within one of the potion monsters. “I want to capture you and study that twisted heart of yours.”

“Funny,” said Markon through gritted teeth. He pushed the bladed potion monster away and stepped back. The end of his finger began to glow. “Why don’t you study this?”

Chase fired the crossbow.

The bolt flew faster than the eye could move, and Markon screamed in pain. The bolt had grazed the side of his face, missing the eye which Chase had been aiming for. The potion monsters both turned their heads to glare at Chase. Just as one of them opened their mouths, Chase saw, or felt, the glow from Markon’s finger point at him as the big man fell against the wall.

“Uh oh,” Chase muttered. There was no time to move. Suddenly the sound of thunder sounded, and he felt as though a hot iron was being rammed through his chest.

“Chase!” Shouted Amelie.

Before Chase fell over, he saw a cackling Markon. He was covered in blood and laughing as the potion monsters tore him to ribbons, his blood joining the goblin’s on the ground.

Despite the pain, Chase felt a grin rip across his face. He fell to the side, and darkness consumed him.

Light.

Chase was on his back, coughing up blood. Every breath was an agony and he kept thinking that the stars in the sky were winking out one by one.

“Chase, stay awake,” said someone near him. “Amelie wasn’t able to heal all the internal damage.”

It was Christie, on her knees beside him. She was ruffling through her bag and the bodies of countless goblins littered the courtyard of Lazerpail. Finally she found what she was looking for.

“Here it is,” she said, holding up a vial. “This is a potion of Dreamless Healing. It will taste like death but it will also save you from it. It took me six months to brew it so you better not hack it up.”

Chase coughed again, and then had to spit more blood.

“Fascinating,” said Marlon. He was on the other side of him Chase saw. Behind Marlon was a horror stricken Amelie and the rest of the guild was at her side. “I’ve only ever read about such high level potions.”

“It should work,” said Christie. She took the stopper out of the vial and took a whiff. “But he is going to be knocked out for about twelve hours. Let’s hope we don’t have any more visitors. Here, open his mouth, Marlon.”

Chase felt Marlon’s fingers pinch his lips open and Christie hastily poured the motion into his mouth. She immediately clamped her hand over his sputtering mouth as the taste of rotting flesh and something like lavender washed down his throat.

“That should do it,” said Christie with satisfaction. She wiped her hands and returned the empty vial to her bag. She stood up and began examining the courtyard. “Well, looks like we gave them quite the show. Cheers for the help, Chase, though I didn’t really need it.”

Chase’s eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. He could barely keep them open but all he could see was Christie. She looked just as he did a thousand times after a fight. Her cheeks were flushed and her hands were imperiously on her hips as her smile flashed upon her face.

“Thank you so much...for everything!” Cried Amelie.

“Don’t mention it,” muttered Christie, shaking her head. “Anyway, I think I need to go. Solomon will want to know about those invaders coming to Lazerpail—.”

“Christie!” Shouted Chase. Or, groaned, more like. What was he doing? He felt like he was back in the Old Guard headquarters. Surely everything that had happened to him for the past year had all been a dream. Who were these new players around him? “Christie! I need to tell you something.”

The woman cocked an eyebrow and peered down at him.

“I forgot to mention,” said Christie. “He might say some strange things before he goes out. Dreamless Healing is a bit of a psychedelic in high doses.”

What is she talking about? thought Chase. Their wedding was coming up soon and he needed her to know something. To remember.

“Christie, it’s about the Old World,” he said. “My memory of the old world. Do you remember?”

“Um,” she snorted and looked at the other players in the courtyard. They all shook their heads and one of them, a little boy, raised his hands and sighed. “What about it? I don’t know your memory of the Old World, Chase.”

“It’s not Chase, it’s—,” he began but a hand was suddenly on his shoulder. He blinked and was staring at an old man.

“That’s enough, son,” said the old man. His brow furrowed with concern. “Just close your eyes and rest. You took a potion and you’re not thinking right.”

“Chase,” said a large boy. He was looking at him with horror, and kept glancing at Christie. “Go to sleep, okay?”

All the players looked concerned. More than concerned. A girl who looked like the younger sister of Christie was covering her mouth, eyes wide.

“Go to sleep,” repeated Christie. She turned around and began walking for the exit of Lazerpail. “I’m leaving you all here, but you better be out when your wounds are healed, got it? I have no idea what Solomon will do when he—.”

“I was running,” said Chase. The darkness was closing in around him. “I was running down a dimly lit street. I was being chased. Chased by something. Or someone. Chased.”

The last memory he had before unconsciousness was of Christie turning around, shock on her face, and her mouth wide. Her lips moved as they formed a silent word.

“Spade!”