Chapter 16
The Conflict
Lightning flashed again, reminding Terrill of where they stood, and the greater situation going on outside. The rain became thicker, the droplets heavier, and one of them struck the ground where Clay had been, leaving a small pockmark beneath it. Terrill stepped away, looking towards the open sky and the darkened clouds. The sun attempted to peek through, or maybe it was the moon. Terrill couldn’t say. It was so dark, no details were discernable.
“Did we really just kill a Fiend?” Torry asked, returning Terrill to the Palace. Now that they were no longer fighting, he could take in the battered and shattered room, which looked to be knocked askew from all of the attacks that had beset it. “After all this, I didn’t think we could.”
“It won’t be the last,” Walter assured her. He was back on mission mode, ready to leave the Palace once and for all. His strides cut through the lingering darkness, no longer tethered to a soul to sustain it, but unable to vanish entirely. Terrill wondered if it would be the same for the other Lifebloods if they, or Golbrucht, had managed the same with them. His hand parted through the wisps of shadow, and it reminded him of Krysta’s state, wondering if she was worsening. She soon caught him staring, but smiled, as if to assure him that everything was okay, when it was far from so.
“Walter has the right idea. We need to go,” Charles said, intervening on any thoughts they might have been having or willing to share. He followed after Walter, aiming for the crack that had formed in one of the palace walls to the outside.
“Go where? Priscus?” Floyd asked, rushing after them with concern scrawled all over his face. “What if we have to fight the Fiends there? It took all of us just to bring Clay down. And, even if we succeed, they’ll just come back, won’t they?”
“Only if they can pass through the cycle,” Krysta answered. She was gripping her useless arm, but holding it together. Her steps brought her to a stumble, soon supported by Torry and Lumen. “But if the cycle ends, then maybe not…”
“We’ll figure it out later. Right now, we-” A sudden cracking interrupted Terrill. He whipped around, trying to find out where it was coming from, but unable to see. The rain was coming down in sheets, and Terrill could now feel it on his skin like needles puncturing him. Shielding his eyes, he looked upwards, and saw an impossible sight: the ceiling of the Abyssal Palace was stitching itself back together, closing at the seams and becoming whole again. “Walter, get back!”
Walter did stop at his words, and just in time as the crack in the wall was no longer a crack, but obsidian stone. He put a hand to it, and when he did, the entire palace shook. Terrill moved his foot, and his eyes widened as he realized it was not from an earthquake, or the building restructuring itself, but from something bubbling up beneath the surface, ready to spill out.
What is going on out there…? he thought, but never voiced. Instead, he called them all to him with three simple words. “Time to go!”
He was the first to turn on his heel, right for the only open door. Even that looked to close in, the corridor beyond trying to ensnare them. Torry and Lumen helped Krysta run forward, though she quickly stood on her own power, and Floyd was forced to speed up and push the remaining two to catch up with them. They had just crossed the threshold of the room, when the very geyser that Terrill had been expecting erupted. It crashed into the ceiling, but the residual dark energy left immediately put it all back together, leaving the water to pool in the room at an alarming rate. They couldn’t afford to look back.
“Whoever knows a path out of here, get it quick!”
“I’ll lead the way. Fire Boy, with me.” Floyd didn’t take offense to the random nickname given by Charles, both focusing only on getting their party out of there with all swiftness. The water rushed into the hall, and Terrill knew how dire it was when it submerged his ankles in seconds. With Charles and Floyd moving ahead, the former suggesting a path that the latter used his speed to check, Terrill hoped they would still make it, but were forced to stop when a crack of lightning seared through the Palace. It dropped rubble in their path and sent them sprawling into the flood. “That’s the only way out. We’re nearly there.”
“Then we’ll make our way out,” Terrill insisted. He flipped on to his feet, splashing water all about, now past his knees. His bottom half was entirely soaked, but his hands retained their firm hold on his sword, which he struck the rocks with. As steel made contact with stone, the rubble was split in two, breaking apart to make a path to an atrium with wild blue flames. As if the sword, itself, had earned the name Earth-Splitter, Terrill swung his blade around and sheathed it, leading the group through the flooded halls to the blazing, blue inferno of the Palace’s atrium.
“What’s with this fire? It’s crazy in here!” Floyd didn’t need to tell any of them that, all of the flames thrashing about. Some hit the windows and walls, while others snapped at the ground in front of them. It necessitated their group to split, and in defense, Torry created a wall of water while Lumen manifested a shield. It blocked the flames from their path, but was only temporary.
Terrill ran, straight for the obvious, beckoning exit, and the others followed. There was no point in staying there to be burnt to a crisp, and their defensive force made sure to keep them safe on the way out. Not that they were peerless, as a lash of flame tried to block their exit, only for Charles and Walter to cut through it and blow it away, leaving the path open for them. The septet barreled through, rolling out of the palace and onto the stairs just outside it. The slick surface from the rain caused Terrill to trip and land on his butt, sliding down the stairs until he was deposited at the bottom. Floyd and Krysta had joined him, themselves wincing from the bruising activity.
Up high, the rain had stopped, only to be replaced with a scorching sun as hot as the desert, though the plants had not yet shown signs of it.
“No dilly-dallying, Terrill,” Walter said, landing on his feet with an infuriating smirk directed at Floyd. The younger boy gave a “tch”, but sprang to his feet to follow. Terrill did the same, dragging Krysta along with him, and just in time.
The stairs cracked, a new quake tearing through the land around the Palace, and opening a chasm to what seemed to be caverns like the Luster Mines, deep beneath the ground. Vines erupted from that place, like nature reclaiming the land and snaking up the darkened Palace, covering it before being torn away by the sheer force of the shadows inside. The ground kept breaking up, traveling towards where they were, and where the skyship was landed. Walter was already inside.
“Keep it moving!” Floyd shouted, jumping on the ramp and waving everyone else in. Terrill and Krysta found themselves bringing up the rear when one of the cracks opened up, his foot slipping inside it. He lost his balance, and nearly fell backwards until Krysta’s hand, her warm one, caught him. She strained, her teeth gritted as she pulled on him, but the shaking ground made it difficult. The splitting faults traveled towards the skyship, whose engines had just started to run when it was set off-kilter by the uneven land. Any longer and they would lose their only means of transportation.
Terrill grunted, planting his foot against a sheer piece of stone and, with it, forced himself upwards, aided by Krysta’s effort. More of the land broke apart, trying to bring him down with it, but with a grunt, Terrill fell forward, towards Krysta, and the two set off on a sprint, jumping for the skyship and grabbing to the ramp. Krysta found it difficult, but Torry and Lumen reached for her, while Floyd grabbed Terrill, hauling him up with puffed cheeks and clenched teeth. Once their full bodies were on the ramp, Terrill shouted.
“Take us out of here!”
Walter pulled on the lever and the skyship jerked, the nose dipping forward just enough for the five on the ramp to begin sliding into the cabin. It was a reminder of how inexperienced Walter still was at flight, but he rectified it, the skyship shuddering before it rose more evenly into the air, above the earthquake that was rocking the continent of Clupei. Terrill looked out, trying to get a grasp for how far the damage had extended, to find it stopped before the Taro Downs, though the little dark spots moving towards the ocean indicated that the ramifications of nature going haywire were quite noticeable to everyone.
The higher they rose, the more that became plain. Terrill scrambled for the stairs, climbing up to the deck and ignoring the hole still present. Now that he had a fuller view of things, Terrill’s eyes widened.
Nature had gone completely off its hinges.
While his sight could only carry as far as the western coast of Gladius, that was all Terrill needed to see that the loss of the Lifeblood, and the weakness of the others, meant a force of nature that could no longer be stabilized or maintained. A tornado was churning up where the O’Della Canyon was, the Wind Fortress a visible dot in all the chaos. To the south, the seas were encroaching on the land, carrying moored boats into the buildings of Rotarin. Fire and heat scorched northern lands and, in other areas, the land itself was cracking in two, one of the splits running across Gladius through what looked like Fort Tierial. The elements were out of control, and with them, the weather was a new, complicated and indomitable force.
“How do we stop something like that?” Floyd said, having joined Terrill on the deck. He wasn’t alone, Krysta and Lumen also there with pained expressions upon them, albeit for separate reasons. “Would stopping Golbrucht really stop the Lifebloods from going crazy?”
“I don’t know…” Krysta answered. Her flesh hand covered her crystal one, seeming like a prayer, but no orations left her lips. “I thought…I thought everything would be fine if I destroyed it because I was still here, but if the other four are losing their powers…”
“Well, they’re not gone yet,” Torry said, climbing upwards. She didn’t need to look at the weather to exposit her newest theory, and Terrill had to admire her for it. The more he watched, the more he came to admire each of them for coming this far, and he allowed his gaze to travel northeast, where Clay had said Priscus was. Where Atrum and Golbrucht were. “When I was examining the Lifeblood, it seemed like part of it was sealed. Like, maybe someone is keeping part of that power sealed away, preventing the Lifebloods from dying entirely. Sure, it means they’re going way out of whack, but they’re not gone. If we can stop the Fiends, then we can stop what’s blighting them!”
“And how do we do that?” Lumen asked, stepping his way in the conversation. “Floyd was right. As long as the Lifebloods exist, as long as Adversa is in play, the Fiends will reincarnate again and again. How do we stop that, even if we remove Golbrucht from the playing field?”
“I could restore them.” Krysta’s statement made Terrill’s lips twitch, his fists balling at his clothing. He hated the resignation there, and didn’t need her words to know both how dire the situation had gotten, and the possibility of what could come next. “As the soul that rested in the Lifeblood of Light, all the other elements came from the one I was entrusted with. That means I can restore them with my own power, but I’d need to go to the font of my own power in-”
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“Priscus,” Terrill spat. “We’re heading there anyway, but I don’t like the idea of you sacrificing yourself for that, especially with no guarantee it would stop the Fiends.”
“We’re out of time to debate this, Terrill.” Terrill whipped around, approaching Krysta so fast that Torry just barely managed to step out of the way. He confronted her, but she did not relent, even as Charles’s head emerged on the deck. “No matter what happens next, Adversa and Dimidia are on the verge of merging, which means a decision will need to be made on how that happens, because once it starts, it can’t be stopped, even if we stop Golbrucht or restore the Lifebloods.”
“How much time would we have if it did start?” Charles said, his footsteps louder than the howling wind.
“I don’t know, and I can’t guess.”
“Then let’s work with what we already can guess at: stopping the Fiends.” He didn’t want the discussion over, his eyes boring into Krysta’s. Her lips formed a minor pout, her eyes sharpening into a glare. It was a bridge they’d have to come to, but right now, the greater issue was at hand, and Terrill yanked himself away to point over the horizon, to where he presumed Priscus was. “No matter what is going to happen with the Blessed or the two worlds or the Lifebloods, the Fiends need to be stopped. Even if it’s temporary, it doesn’t matter. They need to be stopped, and Golbrucht’s at the top of the list.”
“Can you do it?” Charles took long strides to stand in front of him, blocking his view. The others gave him the space he needed. “A Fiend he may have been, but that man had a point: Atrum is your friend. Are you willing to carry the strength to kill him if that’s what it takes?”
Terrill shoved Charles without warning, but didn’t budge him. “Don’t even joke about that!”
“I’m not.”
“Charles…don’t.” Lumen’s warning went fully ignored, and in turn, Terrill chose to ignore Charles. Killing Atrum was out of the question; not after his promise to the boy. He left the other Guardian, jumping straight down the stairs and into the cabin. Charles followed, grabbing him from behind and alarming Charles as the skyship jolted.
“This is something that needs to be said, Terrill! This is something that needs to be considered!” Charles spun him around, and Terrill could see how resolute he was. For a man who had wanted to do nothing but die, he looked instead to be slipping into old habits, even if they were habits created by Golbrucht. “You say you want to save him, but Golbrucht has stitched himself to him. Exactly how do you think you can?”
“Well, maybe we can separate him!” Terrill shoved him a second time, garnering the attention of Walter and those making their way below. “I’m not like you, Charles. I don’t just consider killing as the first option. And haven’t you considered that killing Atrum means killing Lumen, too? Or haven’t you noticed that they seem to share pain with one another?”
“I have, but we need to consider the worst-case scenario, and if you’re too weak of will to do it, you need someone who is willing to put down the monster that created all of this. I’ll accept that, but I need to know you can, too. I need to know you’re willing to let one more sin be put upon me.”
“Shut up, Charles!” Terrill couldn’t hesitate, and punched him square in the jaw, but the man did not flinch. He held his fist there, trying to regain his emotions, remembering every moment that Atrum tried to fight back, every moment he kept promising to save him. He had never considered it before, or hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it as a possibility. Even now, his mind rebelled against it. “We can’t…we can’t allow ourselves to think lives don’t matter. We… I need to believe that we can win this without senseless sacrifice.”
“And when does a sacrifice become senseless?” This wasn’t Charles, but Walter, leaning upon the wheel of the skyship. There was pain in his words, but an acceptance that let go of his animosity towards Charles, and perhaps even Golbrucht, who had so twisted his fate. “Terrill, perhaps we have to consider your friend’s wishes, too.”
“He wants to be saved. He wants the Fiends stopped.”
“And which is he more willing to accomplish? Perhaps…perhaps he is willing to accept a course that frees him of Golbrucht forever, even if it means he never returns. Perhaps we have to accept that as an outcome.”
Terrill drew his fist back, and found his eyes seeking Lumen, wondering what the boy who was connected to Atrum felt about all of this. Lumen, who had long accepted death and was still uncertain of his own path. Terrill watched him until he turned away, and the meaning was clear.
“I can’t…I can’t let you sacrifice yourselves. They’ll just mean nothing. I can’t just let Atrum die, even if it means killing Golbrucht.”
“The only other way would be to fuse Lumen and Atrum, Terrill.” Krysta’s suggestion was just as horrifying, causing Terrill to shake his head. “But that would require purging Golbrucht, and-”
“We have to save him, and Lumen, and you, too, Krysta!” Floyd and Torry nodded at this assertion, saying nothing in the conflict.
“No one is saying they don’t want to. Goodness knows I wish to see no more death,” Walter said with a sigh. “But we need to go into this battle understanding the possibility. And if anyone is capable…”
“Then all I’m asking is that you have the strength to trust me.” Charles took Terrill’s hands, forcing him to look directly at him. They were not the eyes of a killer, but one who understood. That hurt Terrill most of all. Charles, more than anyone, could understand the pain of control that Atrum was in, and what it would take to free him. The one thing they all wanted, that Atrum was being denied. “I promise, it will be a last resort, but I just need to know.”
Though it pained him, Terrill nodded. The skyship shook violently.
“Shit!” The violent force of whatever natural occurrence had gone out of control this time sent the skyship’s wing dipping, each of them rolling across the cabin to squish upon each other. Terrill held to one of the seats, watching as Walter spun the wheel vigorously so as to right it. Outside the window of the vehicle, Terrill could see angry clouds forming, like a swirl of dark thunder, an eye at the center. Walter aimed for it, the water of rain and wind falling on them, straight into the cabin. Hail struck the glass, nearly falling atop Lumen’s head if it wasn’t for Floyd dragging him back. “If our issues are settled, then we need to move. This will only get worse. Where to, Terrill?”
“Priscus, to the northeast, far as we can go!”
“Then hold on. I’ve no idea how bumpy this ride may be.”
“I’ll help. We’ll want to outrun this storm!” Torry yelled. The winds picking up outside made it nigh impossible to hear anyone over its raging swell. Torry slid back as the skyship accidentally tipped so its nose was in the air, but Walter managed to right it. Once Torry reached the ramp, it opened slightly, and she stabilized herself, holding both palms in front of her. In those palms were orbs made of pure wind energy. She fired them, both colliding and exploding with a burst of air that accelerated the skyship forward.
The hail battered all over the skyship, cracking through the windshield and letting the northern air fly over them. Pieces of the wings were damaged and the hole above their heads grew even larger. Walter kept them on a straight course, ignoring the balls of ice until they reached the edge of the growing storm that was ready to consume both Gladius and Clupei, if not the whole world, the hurricane unable to be stopped.
“Can we really stop a storm like that?” Floyd asked. “The people caught up in it-”
“Will be fine!” Terrill snapped. He was more focused on where they were going, slipping on the floor to join Walter at the controls. The sun was coming out on the beginning of the day, but all they had eyes for was the roiling mist just ahead. It was a sign clearer than anything of what it was covering up: an endless fog to obscure the ancient city of Priscus. Terrill addressed Floyd, pointing right for it. “I trust in Phillip to protect Valorda, and I trust in the people to protect each other. We’re gonna show the Fiends here and now what humanity could do when they’re not trying to pit us against each other. Walter, ram straight through!”
“With pleasure. It’s time the Fiends got a taste of the despair they’ve done to each of us.” He pushed on the throttle, what was left of the skyship’s power funneling into its thrusters. It shook with greater violence than ever, each of them finding whatever they could to grab on to. Charles chuckled, muttering something about his sister, but it was lost as the flying ship pierced the mist.
Nothing was visible for a moment, but Walter never stopped, and Krysta pushed up from her spot. She crawled over to Terrill and Walter, and without prompting, grabbed the wheel, turning it just enough for them to change direction. She had sensed where to go, and soon after, they broke out of the mist, like sailing into a different storm’s eye.
Below was the sea, glittering blue and reflecting an alabaster white island.
They had found it at last, the Ancient City of Priscus, shrouded in the mists of time and untouched by the ravages of the ages. Terrill would have chosen to soak it in, but a disconcerting sign grabbed his attention. A barrier, once erected to protect the city, was in complete tatters, as though torn apart by force rather than finesse.
“He’s here,” Lumen said, not needing to look to explain what had happened to the shield. “They’re all here.”
The words hadn’t even finished leaving his mouth when he received proof positive. The skyship was rocked by a furious gale, trying to knock all of them down. A great snapping and cracking was heard above them, and Terrill saw the roof of the skyship begin to peel back, ready to come off. He knew who was behind it, and when the skyship tilted on its axis, Terrill slid for the stairs, swinging around them to climb.
“Keep going, I’ll join up! Take down whatever Fiends you can!”
“What do you plan to do?” Krysta shouted over the winds. Before Terrill could reach the hatch that was banging open and closed with disturbing frequency, he stopped.
“I have another promise to keep. This time with a Fiend of my own. Go!” Not waiting for protests or otherwise, Terrill leapt the stairs, unsheathing his sword and running for the edge. A harrowing wind threatened to take him off with the top of the skyship, but he stood fast, stones around his feet providing him with purchase. They were flying over the top of the city, but Terrill had no eye for architecture. He preferred locating the source of the winds, and soon found her, floating atop one of the taller buildings, the white city and its gleaming tower setting a backdrop for her. The second they locked eyes, the two ran for one another.
“Winifred, let’s finish this!”
“Yes!” she cried enthusiastically. Terrill leapt off the top of the skyship with abandon, swinging his sword out as gravity took over his body. He let it, allowing it to carry him towards his foe, who let loose a great wind to cut at his skin and halt his movement. He didn’t let it stop him, his blade becoming as earth to break through its opposing element. “One final battle to the death!”
“I’ll crush your despair first!” Terrill narrowed his body, his arms at his side but clasping his blade close, and he fell right for her, faster than she anticipated to allow his fist to sink into her face. He slashed out, finding it blocked by a sword. Putting the brunt of gravity behind it, Terrill pushed against the blade until it was right up against Winifred’s chest. Her hair was wild, and her eyes alight with wicked enthusiasm, which didn’t end as they reached a tiled roof, crashing into it and rolling along its length. Both quickly sprang up.
Terrill was the first to make a move, swinging his sword like a claymore and sending spikes racing for Winifred. They got progressively bigger as the neared her, and with one spear of wind, she’d shattered them. Terrill was already on the move, dodging her attack. Coming in from her side, his sword sang with the thrill of the battle against this longstanding foe, only to be met with a blade supported by wind. He broke off, kicking up with a flip that sent the sword flying upwards. When he landed on his feet, he swept out, only to find she had dodged and sent a fist pummeling into his stomach.
The resultant wind sent him flying backwards, and Terrill yanked a stone pole attached to the top of the roof. He grabbed it, swinging around and sending him back towards Winifred. Her sword fell, and he caught it, making a cross-slash that she attempted to slow with her winds. It wasn’t quite successful, as everything slowed just enough for Terrill to slam the roof. Cracks traveled down, the building’s supports close to crumbling as he created more pillars. One struck her chin, driving her off while he climbed the pillars with short hops, getting above her and plunging down.
His blades came with him, slicing down her front. Winifred screamed, bleeding wind from the strike, but had enough strength to thrust her palm out. Terrill was caught off-guard and the weapon he had procured from her was sent flying, well out of either of their reaches. The pillars behind them broke away into dust, leaving them standing on a teetering building. A loud crash resounded elsewhere in the city, but Terrill never stopped watching Winifred’s every move.
She was grinning.
“That’s it. Give me more! A chance to live!”
“You’re not living,” Terrill spat, his sword cleaving at the air. She twitched, her eyes showing the apoplectic emotions underneath her crazed veneer. “None of you Fiends are. And you’re so lonely, you want to damn the world to make yourselves feel better. Well, I’m sick of it. I’m not letting anyone else die to fulfill your twisted desires. Even you, Winifred.”
Winifred’s entire demeanor changed, as did the air. It became harsh, their own personal storm within to battle. It carried her up, wrapping her in a white cyclone that Terrill could not look at her through, but could see the silhouette set against sunrise. Wings sprouted within, and her feet and hands changed shape. Terrill brought his sword up, ready for the attack, but never expected how fast it would come.
The second the cyclone dispersed, Winifred was there, with feathers and claws. The next second and Terrill felt the warm sensation of blood on his arm, her steel-sharpened claws having cut straight into his fleshy shoulder.
“Then you and your friends can die with us. The end of the world is nigh.”