Chapter 6 – Bloodstained Pages

Damn you, Voice! I thought your friend was supposed to make my life easier, not attack me with strange magic!

Sidan was warily keeping his distance from Liv, ready to jump the second she decided to send more of her paper projectiles at him. His sword was still kept away, for now. He didn’t want to escalate the hostilities if he could.

If Liv really was one of Luciel’s companions, had she changed over the centuries? Or had Luciel’s creation misjudged how she would react to the news the sword was needed?

He also couldn’t dismiss the idea that the Voice had deceived him, and never had anything to do with the Daughter of Light, a dark part of his mind ever so helpfully reminded him.

Regardless of Sidan’s feelings on his mysterious guide, he knew that he needed to get that blade. He simply couldn’t afford to let the Slicers’ leader get its tendrils on it. Despite Liv’s confidence that everything was going as planned and that there was nothing to worry about, what little he could understand of this “system” of hers sounded unnecessarily convoluted and self-defeating.

“Can we talk about this, Liv?” he asked, clinging on to a vain hope that this could be resolved without bloodshed.

“We already have,” she answered. “I can’t imagine you’ll say anything that will change my mind. Besides, weren’t you the one just seconds ago claiming you’d use violence if necessary? Awfully hypocritical of you to walk that back the second you realize you’re outmatched.”

To punctuate her statement, Liv swept her arm, firing two paper arrows, this time straight at him. He leapt out of the way, and was relieved to see that he dodged them with room to spare, even as the projectiles slightly curved towards him while in the air. Unless Liv was purposefully holding back, which was still a very real possibility at this point, he at least wouldn’t have too much trouble avoiding her attacks. He still couldn’t get careless, of course. If what happened to that tree was any indication, getting hit directly by one of these would probably tear him apart like, well, paper.

Alright then, back to the original plan. This time, with a little more thought put into it.

Sidan chose not to respond to this (completely deserved) accusation of hypocrisy, his thoughts occupied with the task of figuring out a way to win this battle.

He knew he was no genius, or even particularly smart, but he liked to think that he had something of an affinity for one-on-one battles. A sword was only as good as its wielder, and the same was true for magic. Almost anyone could, with enough practice and dedication, learn the same strength and durability enhancing spell he knew, but to use it effectively was another matter.

He saw many of the same mistakes in new recruits to the City Guard. Newbies who would keep the costly spell active for much too long, and find themselves surprised when it inevitably ran out before they could make the decisive blow. Others who were more conservative in their timing, but applied it to a greater area than was required for what they wanted to do, and thus also wasted significant energy. Yet others who had no idea what to do with their temporary supernatural might, other than just punching their opponent.

Sidan had fallen into all these traps himself, once, but had quickly learned. Today, he had a very good track record during friendly spars against his fellow guards, and had even done pretty well against a mid-tier elementalist that Sergeant Callahan had once brought in for a special exercise about the different types of magic they might encounter on the job.

He had never heard of or encountered Liv’s magic before, but even with the difference in raw power, he felt that victory was possible. Not easy, but possible. If he had only relied on his brute strength, he would not have walked away from the Slicers and the piqueswine.

Even though Liv had the clear advantage, offensively speaking, Sidan was better positioned. Liv had to remain close to the sword to guard it, while he had greater maneuverability, and could take cover behind the trees, if need be. Assuming Liv’s paper wasn’t capable of slicing all the way through a tree trunk.

Should he rush towards her, and try and take the sword before she could do anything to him? With well-timed bursts of strength to his legs, he could move deceptively fast, though not for long. No, too much danger, when he was still uncertain of Liv’s limits. He’d keep that option as a last resort.

Liv fired three arrows this time, spread out so that he couldn’t easily dodge them by leaping to the side. Instead, he leapt over them with a quick burst of strength to his legs.

Either her accuracy is pretty bad, or she wasn’t aiming for any of my vital areas. She wants to scare me off, not kill me. At least, not yet.

That wouldn’t do. Before he could get close to her, he needed to see what she was capable of when going all out, preferably in a situation where he could dodge and retreat from whatever she threw at him. Sidan had no doubts Liv would stop holding back the second he actually threatened to take the sword for himself.

“This all you got?” he taunted.

Counter shaded as it was by both the moonlight and the pink glow of the sword, Sidan had trouble seeing Liv’s face, but he thought he saw her scowling.

Good. Get angry. Get emotional. Make a mistake. Show me what you can do.

He felt strangely calm, despite his earlier dread when Liv had revealed her mastery of paper. For all of her strangeness, for all of her magic’s lethality, Liv still looked and acted human. He could handle humans. He welcomed humans, after spending hours fighting for his life against faceless living shredders, and a grotesquely mutated monster.

“How do you think this is going to end, Sidan? I don’t need to eat, drink, or sleep. You do. Sooner or later, you’ll make a mistake. We can have a standoff all night, if you wish. Believe me, I’m very patient.”

“Bold of you to assume I need those things.”

“Yeah, I’m going to call your bluff on that. I’ve been around for much longer than you have, and I have a good idea of what you can do. That armor, and that regeneration… You’re a city guard of Estrellis, aren’t you? And that jump you did just now… Enhanced strength, yes? Last I checked, they only teach you those two spells. Certainly not magic that lets you ignore your basic bodily needs.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Sidan said, with a bravado he didn’t quite feel.

“I’ve faced demons, Sidan. Literal, actual demons. The kind you hear about in legends, history books, and your little holy scriptures. Nothing you can do will phase me.”

Liv swept towards him, and all the remaining arrows flew. No, all but one.

He avoided the initial volley, and Liv fired the remaining one while he had yet to recover from his leap. With practiced motion, he unsheathed his sword, and struck the projectile aside before it could reach him. The paper was surprisingly tough, his sword only embedding itself partway through instead of cutting it in half. A side effect of Liv’s magic?

He also noticed that none of her arrows were recalled back to her side. Was there a limit to how much she could change their initial direction? Or did she need a clear line of sight to control them?

Her supply exhausted, Liv raised her arm, and turned the levitating paper into more arrows. Sidan ran for the trees. Liv relaxed a bit, possibly assuming he was retreating. He wasn’t.

He gathered as many rocks as he could behind the cover of the trees, and threw them at Liv one by one, augmenting the throw with a burst of arm strength right before releasing them.

His aim was true, and one of them struck Liv in the chest. Another grazed her arm. The paper controller yelped, and spread her arms to the side, palms open. Paper flew around her, before settling into a half-dome structure, shielding her and the sword. Sidan experimentally threw stones at it. The paper sheets were budged slightly from the impacts, but held true.

Liv opened small windows in her miniature fortress, and fired arrows at him out of those. They embedded themselves deep in the tree trunks, but didn’t go all the way. Through the small, temporary apertures, he could see Liv make arm motions with each arrow fired, as if she was miming throwing something at him.

It was at this moment that Sidan realized something that should have been obvious in hindsight.

Whenever she moves her paper sheets, she moves her arms and hands as well. Closing her fist for folding. Sweeping her arms in a particular direction for movement. Probably some more subtleties I’m missing.

He wasn’t sure if arm movements were required for her magic to work, or if they just helped, but it gave him a potential path to victory – immobilize her arms, through whatever means necessary.

Sidan braced himself for the next volley of arrows, but it didn’t come. Thinking about it, it had been an awfully long few seconds since Liv had created an opening in her shield. Was she planning something in there?

She was.

The paper wall opened once more, and what flew out was not an arrow, but a veritable chain of paper, hundreds of sheets braided together in one piece, spikes poking out at regular intervals.

It snaked out of the opening, the heavily spiked tip headed straight towards Sidan. He took cover behind a tree, but it seemed Liv had made this contraption specifically to counter this. The rope took a sharp turn in mid-air, and circled around said plant, before coming back towards her. He ducked, barely avoiding being pinned against the tree. A spike grazed his shoulder, sharp and painful.

Undeterred, the rope returned, flying at him from another angle. He swung at it with enhanced strength, hoping to slice it in half. His sword didn’t even embed itself halfway through, and was violently wrenched from his hand.

Shit, shit, SHIT! Can’t stay behind cover. Every time she attacks, it limits my movement further. Given how much paper she brought with her, she’s not about to run out of rope anytime soon.

Can’t retreat. If I do, it’ll just give her the time to cut off the whole perimeter, or build something even worse.

Then, that left…

Sidan took a swig of potion, then ran towards the sword and Liv, leaping over another rope attack. Along the way, he picked up the largest stone he could find, rapidly draining his magic reserves to be able to hold it for a precious few seconds.

He broke into the clearing. Liv fired arrows, all the while the rope swung back towards him.

He did his best to dodge, but the added weight made him less nimble. An arrow struck and embedded itself in his chest plate, the blunt shock leaving him breathless. Another left a deep gash in his thigh. He grit his teeth, and did his best to ignore it. He couldn't regenerate while his strength was active. Only two seconds of magic left, by his estimates.

He raised the stone above his head, looking like he was about to throw it. Liv closed the gaps in her shield, and reinforced it by shifting paper between him and herself. The rope went limp, and fell to the ground.

So she does need line of sight to control it.

Sidan dropped the rock, and circled around Liv, well-timed leg strength enhancing his speed. He reached a section of the shield which Liv had thinned out while reinforcing the front, and slammed into it at full speed. He broke through.

Clearly not expecting this, Liv panicked. With a wild, uncontrolled gesture, she threw the entire stack of paper at Sidan. He leapt to the side, and could feel the displacement of air as the projectile that was heavier than he was, and as fast a thrown rock, barely missed him. His magic ran out.

The stack of paper curved upwards, gaining height. It reached the apex of its trajectory, and stood still for just a moment. Then it flew down like a meteor, gaining incredible speed along the way. Aimed straight towards him.

What could he do? Attack Liv? No, too far away. Without any magic left, he wouldn’t make it to her in time.

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The bag.

When Liv had fired the stack, her backpack, still wrapped around the base, had come with, and had landed close to him. He grabbed the limp rope bag, and threw it at her face. Line of sight broken; the stack stopped its deadly homing. He rolled, the projectile landing an arm’s length away from him, shaking the earth and launching dirt everywhere.

The shock made Liv land on her butt, still blind. She frantically clawed at the bag, ineffectively trying to pull it off.

Sidan got to his feet, took a quick swig of potion, and ran. Liv managed to get the bag off just in time to see Sidan’s foot make contact with her own elbow. There was a loud crack.

Liv screamed, going flat on her back. Sidan wasted no time, and stomped on her other arm, breaking this one as well.

Panting, Sidan stepped away from Liv. He took no joy in this act of brutality, but it had been the quickest way to end this.

He could see that Liv’s face was a mess of sweat and tears, the fluids reflecting the sword’s pink light. To her credit, the woman hadn’t passed out from the pain, though she was clearly having a bad time.

“Damn,” Liv grit out between pained gasps. “… Guess I got … rusty.”

“I’m sorry about this,” Sidan said. “I’ll get you to a healer after this.”

“Fuck … You,” was the reply.

Liv tried to lift an arm, but quickly gave up, setting it back down with a sharp inhalation.

Sidan felt like scum, leaving her like this, but he had more pressing matters. How much time left until the Slicer mage was here? Whatever the number was, he couldn’t waste-

The paper, strewn all over the ground, shifted.

“Just give up!” Sidan barked, as he turned around.

Liv was lifting not her arm, but her legs. She was clearly less adept with them than her other set of limbs, the paper slowly and shakily floating towards the contraption she was building above her head – a massive blade that resembled a guillotine’s.

Sidan tensed his legs, ready to jump out of the way. Except… that blade wasn’t aimed towards him. But at her own neck.

“What are you doing? Stop!”

Liv slammed her legs down. Sidan could do nothing but stare as the blade sunk deep within her neck, slowing to a stop before it could go all the way.

Then, for a lack of a better word, her body… unraveled. Her outer skin peeled away in irregular chunks, then so did the layer below that, and the next. Soon enough, all that was left of Liv was a mess of flakes and blood, kept in the vague shape of a person by her clothes.

Legs weak, Sidan approached the corpse, and bent down, touching one of the driest flakes with his bare hand.

Paper. Aged, stiff paper. Of course.

He almost wanted to laugh, even as the rest of him was filled with revulsion at what he had just witnessed.

He had seen dead bodies before, but to actually see someone die, much less by their own hand…

Why? Why had Liv done this? He…

He couldn’t deal with this.

Turning his back, he walked towards the sword, still softly glowing. He reached for it, and made contact.

* * *

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was fog.

Fog as far as he could see, reaching up to his knees. It was so thick that he could not see the ground, which was covered in what he hoped was cool, ankle-deep water. The sky was a clear, bright blue, despite the complete lack of a sun. Though this whole space was well lit, he could find no light source, and saw no shadows, as if every point in space was being illuminated equally.

He turned around, taking it all in. No structures, or any point of interest. Just endless flat terrain, covered by this strangely shallow mist.

“Strange. I did not foresee your coming.”

Sidan turned, hand reaching for his sword. It wasn’t there. In fact, his armor was gone too, replaced by plain, comfortable white clothes.

The man who had spoken behind his back had not been there before. He was tall, and handsome, fine brown hair framing a pale, strong-jawed face. He wore noble’s clothing, as well as a heavy red cape that dragged into the water.

Sidan reached for his magic, and floundered. He could feel his magic reserves, but not access them. Locked away, somehow.

“Worry not, child. I mean you no harm,” the man said.

“Who are you? What is this place?” Sidan said, keeping his distance.

“I am King Magnus the Third. Creator of this blade you just touched. As for this place? It is an illusion, a dream created for me to communicate with newly bonded users of this weapon. For now, this includes only one Luciel Anwar, and… you.”

With these words, the reality of what Sidan had accomplished finally crashed down on him. The Daughter of Light’s source of power was his. Despite his earlier insistence that anyone could have followed in Luciel’s footsteps, he didn’t feel worthy of it. He’d only gotten there through luck and guidance from mysterious entities. He knew that his victory against Liv was a very narrow one as well. If she hadn’t held back, and gone straight for the kill at the earliest opportunity, he didn’t see how he could still be alive right now.

But it didn’t matter whether he deserved this power or not. At the end of the day, it was still his, and he use to his utmost ability to free his city.

“But,” Magnus continued, “I was expecting someone different for the second wielder. Not you. Tell me, what year is it? What is the reason you sought out this blade?”

The Voice had told Sidan not to mention their conversation to anyone. Even to the sword’s creator? It had led him towards the sword, even if things with Liv had ended disastrously. Why had it even told him to take a detour towards her house?

Liv… He couldn’t dwell on that.

He didn’t know what to think. So he decided to omit it for now.

“The year is 904, your majesty. I am Sidan, a city guard of Estrellis, capital of the kingdom of Morance. About… five hours ago, the city was attacked by strange monsters, somehow animate masses of razor-sharp metal ribbons. Any resistance was quickly crushed. The queen had a hunch that the sword was inside of this forest, and sent me to retrieve it, to fight back. She… I think the leader of those monsters is after it as well. I had to hurry.”

King Magnus furrowed his eyebrows.

“Please, your majesty, can you tell me what’s going on? You said you did not foresee my arrival, and before that…”

“Around eight hundred and fifty years ago,” the king began, “I received a vision. Premonitions of horned, winged men ravaging the land, slaughtering anyone who stood in their way. Though what I saw was dire, it was also not hopeless. A young hero rose up, wielding a powerful weapon, and bringing hope to anyone who laid their eyes on her. I knew that what I saw would come to pass two centuries in the future. There was only one problem. The weapon did not exist. At least not, yet. I decided against leaving that part up to fate, and got to work.”

King Magnus paced as he spoke, mist billowing in his wake. He had a powerful orating voice, and Sidan found himself listening with rapt attention.

“I never saw myself as better than I really was. I was content to remain the king of a small, mostly irrelevant nation that has since been annexed into your own kingdom. No hard feelings on that, I want to clarify. I held no delusions of grandeur, like so many of my fellow royals did, but I knew that I was good at esoteric magic, the kind that stretched the limits of what was thought possible. If I made a lasting impact on the world, I wanted it to be this. I did not care to be remembered by history. The lives saved would be enough for me. And as I made progress on creating this sword, I received yet more visions, of threats in the even more distant future, and of yet more heroes who would drive back those threats. It was at this point that I decided to turn this blade from a mere tool into a symbol, an eternal icon of hope that would protect humanity for millennia to come. I trapped a small part of my soul in it, so that I could speak with those heroes long after my physical self had passed on. The first time with Luciel worked perfectly, and I slumbered once again. I expected to be woken up again, but not for another century. And not by you. The threat you are fighting against is not one that my visions showed me. And yet…”

“The sword still activated.” Sidan finished.

“Yes. Though I created it, there is still much I do not understand about it. The fact that the sword can bond with you, despite you not being one of those foretold heroes, is another quirk I did not intend. The sword’s full potential will not be as strong for you as it was for Luciel, but it should still work as intended. I wish I could tell you more, but you were in a hurry, no? Have you passed by a house, on your way there? Or met someone named Libra?”

“Libra? Did you mean Liv? Yes, I saw both her and the house. I’m sorry to say, but… she’s dead. By her own hand. She tried to stop me from getting to the sword, and once I beat her, she… She told me her role was to guide the heroes to the sword, and…” Sidan trailed off with a shaking voice.

“Liv? Still hasn’t outgrown that phase, I see,” Magnus muttered, displeased. “In any case, Libra is another one of my creations. Don’t worry about whatever it is you saw. He is immortal in more ways than one. I have to warn you, the sword will start out a shadow of its true power, and unlocking its full potential will be a long and arduous process. Victory against this mysterious enemy of yours will not be quick. Go back to the house. You will be safe there, and all your questions will be answered.”

Sidan felt a huge weight being taken off his chest, even as he was perplexed at the king’s words. Why had he called Liv “Libra”, and referred to her as-

Oh.

“I will not be able to contact you again for a long time, I’m afraid. Before I send you off, is there anything more you’d like to ask?”

“No,” Sidan answered, uncomfortable.

“Good. Though you were not a part of my prophecies, this does not lessen your role in any way. Good luck, Sidan. The fate of the world may very well rest on your shoulders.”

* * *

He was back in the grove, kneeling by the stone. The sword was gone. And his hand…

His right hand had transformed. No longer flesh, but a somehow flexible pink crystal, starting above the wrist. It moved with the same ease his old hand did, though the tactile sensations were muted. Experimentally, he bent down, and picked up a small rock. Without using any magic, he closed his fist, and crushed it into dust. It had been easy.

He held his arm high, and his hand became a blade, the process a bit like flexing a muscle he never realized he had. His sense of touch remained, extended to the whole length of it. Freaky. He swung at nothing a few times, and found it clumsier than just holding a conventional sword. He hoped that he’d get used to it with training.

He carefully brought the tip of a finger to the blade’s edge, and drew blood with the barest of touch. So, he was not immune to his own newfound sharpness. He’d need to be careful while swinging that thing around.

He’d wasted enough time, he decided. He began the walk back towards Liv’s house, pointedly looking away from her dead body, even as he knew that she was somehow fine. Along the way, he swung his arm at a tree trunk, just to see what would happen. It cut all the way through like a hot knife through butter, toppling it.

* * *

Liv’s house came into view as the trees thinned out. The walk back had been quiet. Sidan had spotted a few monsters, but the beasts had given him a wide berth the instant he waved his new toy around. Even out of the moonlight, it had retained some of its glow, in both hand and sword form, making the walk less oppressive than it could have been. He would have gone faster if he could, but he’d been simply too exhausted to do anything more than a brisk walk. He sighed, happy his journey was almost at an end, at least for now.

“Found you.”

The harsh, inhuman voice derailed his thoughts, making his entire body shudder. Sidan turned, eyes wide.

“And, it looks like you’ve been busy.”

The Slicer floated silently in midair, its- her tendrils hypnotically weaving in and around each other. In the gloom, he could see that each of them faintly glowed with a different color, and were not just a dull dark grey like he had previously assumed.

“Give me the sword, and I can let you go on your merry way. I don’t want to hurt-”

Sidan ran, uncaring of what this monster had to say. He had to get to the house.

And then what?

His world turned purple, and up and down ceased making sense as he was launched high up in the air. He landed a second later, disoriented. What had happened? A spell, similar to the one Solel used in the palace’s yard, that had also been purple? Oddly enough, he didn’t feel as hurt as he should have by a fall of this height. A fact which did not escape his opponent.

“So, the sword hardened your body without any additional consumption of magic. Remarkable. Unfortunately for you, it won’t make a difference.”

“Stay back!” Sidan yelled, sword pointed towards the Slicer mage as he scrambled backwards.

She advanced, uncaring. Ribbons snaked out towards him, their intent clear. He swung, the blade effortlessly cutting in half any that touched its edge, but there were simply too many. Before long, he was held in the air in a tight grip, his opponent giving no sign of being hurt by his own attacks. Not that he knew what to look for, what with the lack of face, body, or any similarity he could draw upon.

He tried to struggle free, but those tendrils were strong, much stronger than those of the lesser Slicers he’d faced before. Magic didn’t help either. He might as well have been pushing against a brick wall. His captor chuckled at his ineffectual attempts.

“Let go of me, freak,” Sidan growled.

“I have a name,” she said, vague amusement breaking through that screech of a voice. “It’s Null. And you are?”

He spat at her.

“I see how it is, then,” Null said. “You’re angry at me. I don’t blame you. Your little queen’s gamble actually paid off, yet here I am, snatching victory from your jaws at the last second. But I am getting that sword regardless of your feelings on this matter. What you can control is whether you walk out of here in one piece or not. If it means anything to you, I’d prefer the first option.”

“Go to hell.”

He didn’t even know if he could separate the sword from himself at will, but he wasn’t about to try. Regardless of how hopeless things might have been, he would not give this abomination an easy victory.

“Last chance,” Null said.

Sidan kept quiet. What should he do? What could he do? Super strength? He’d already tried, to no effect. Regeneration? He didn’t see how that would help. Using the sword? His right forearm was kept in a firm grip, and oriented in such a way that he could not cut any more ribbons, no matter how far he bent his wrist. Could he use one of the sword’s more esoteric powers? He had no idea how to use the thing beyond the very basics, and Magnus himself had told him that it would be weak for now.

His heart sank. After all this effort, all this pain, it would just end like this? Him powerless, his enemy taking the one thing that could defeat them before it even got to be used?

“… Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Null said, quiet.

A ribbon wrapped around his wrist, and rotated, sharp edge against skin. Realizing what was about to happen, Sidan put all of his magic into reinforcing this articulation. It mattered little. The ribbon tightened, inevitable. It cut into his skin. Into his bone. He screamed.

“Hey!”

Null stopped her attempted amputation, a slight shock travelling through her “body”. Even dazed as he was, Sidan thought that Null’s reaction to the unexpected shout was oddly similar to someone being startled. Blinking back tears, he turned his head to look for the source.

Liv, standing behind her open doorway, alive.

She spread her arms, and a tide of paper flew out, barreling towards Null and Sidan like an out-of-control carriage.

Null was hit with the worst of it, and was swept away from the house, towards the trees. Her grip already slackened, she let go of Sidan.

A second, smaller wave wrapped around him, roughly dragging him towards the house at full speed, uncaring of his own comfort.

Null exploded, all the paper covering her launched away in flaming bits. A few of her tendrils glowed green, and they reached for Sidan , stretching like rubber. They wrapped around him, cutting his retreat short, just meters away from the door. Liv pulled with her paper even harder, but all that accomplished was further abuse to his body.

Tendrils pinned his sword arm against his side, hard. He was bleeding badly. Already, he was starting to feel dizzy, his consciousness threatening to slip from him if he let it. But he would not let this monster win. He could not.

“You’re not getting away!” Null yelled, rapidly flying towards him.

Sidan changed his sword back into a considerably shorter hand, reducing the grip Null had on his arm. With a mighty magic augmented heave, he pulled it free.

“Yes, I am,” he replied, quiet.

He changed it back to a sword, and swung, cutting all the ribbons connecting him to Null.

He flew backwards, through the door, and came to a stop by slamming into a wall, his body covered in bloody paper. Liv slammed the door shut, and all noises from the outside vanished.

A few seconds passed.

No Null tearing the door down, and no house-destroying spell came their way.

“Are we safe?” Sidan asked, voice weak.

“Yes,” Liv replied, pale as a sheet.

“Good.”

And with that, he allowed himself to pass out.