Solir P.O.V

Solir ran outside. Screams filled the air, and he clutched at his spear in total confusion. Something had happened, he had felt it like everyone else, but he didn’t know what. His brown cat-like ears perked up, and his hands tightened on his spear. He heard a howl from his left, and he swung. Weightless parry activated as he moved. An enormous wolf leaped at him, and he just barely managed to redirect it. The beast crashed through his house tearing up stone and wood. It was thankfully empty; his parents had gone out for a meeting. Something in the north had demanded their attention, and they went to meet with a general.

Solir stared at the world as it rushed out of the house. The house hadn’t been large, but he had hoped that a building falling on the thing would do something. This was one of the king’s beasts, right? Why was it attacking him? He didn’t understand, but he rolled out of the way as it lunged. He heard a shout from his left.

“Duck!”

He did so and saw a glowing arrow pass over his head. It struck the wolf in the side and erupted into sparks. The creature shook it off as if it had been a match. Solir groaned and raised his spear. It was glowing as the enchantment at the tip activated. The spear wasn’t complicated, it was a spear of frostbite. More arrows passed to his left, but the creature ignored them and leaped at him. He stabbed forward even though the beast was well out of his range.

A thin length of cold air shot from his spear and traveled through the creature. It froze a moment later leaving a paper-thin stream of ice in the air. It melted instantly and turned into a fog. He smiled as the wolf winced and fell to its side. The creature wasn’t dead but even it could shrug off that skill. Frozen touch of the damned was a powerful skill. His strongest in fact since it targets the soul. He had one other that could harm a person’s soul, but it had been banned by everyone. The king himself had threatened execution if it was ever used.

“It’s not alone!”

He saw the girl with the bow call out. Merra looked disheveled, her armor was cut but he saw no visible wound. Her orange spotted tail was wrapped around her waist like a belt. A healing skill, item? When had she gotten that?

“Since when could you heal?”

“Since today! Guess who’s level 60, bitch!”

She was shouting in glee, and he felt a slight prick of jealousy. He was still level 58. It was only two more, and he couldn’t have imagined leveling so quickly without the war, but he wanted more. He wanted a hundred more levels. To be one of those that could truly change the tide of the war. Everyone wanted that, and they were leveling quickly. The beastmen king had a skill that was making them level faster. It was the main reason so many people were supporting him.

More wolves crept into view, and he sucked in the snide remark he was about to make. What happened to the king? Why were monsters running wild? Five or six wolves might be manageable, but he counted ten. Too many.

“Run!”

He shouted the words. Frosted fog dash activated as he turned and ran toward Merra. She turned and started running too. Fog filled the air behind him, covering his tracks and presence as he ran. The wolves snarled and chased after him. If not for his recent levels he would be too slow, but now he could barely keep ahead of them. His skill would slow them while it hid him and Merra. He hoped it would be enough. They weren’t really running anywhere, in particular, just aiming for the nearest outpost. He saw the tower up ahead and saw arrows falling from it like rain. They struck at things he could see. If they could get to it, they would be safe.

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He kept thinking that until he saw an enormous whale crash into it. The sky whales! The king’s strongest beasts. They were rampaging through the skies. They nearly looked like clouds themselves, but they had weight and power behind them. They fell upon the ground like comets. Tearing up people and buildings like fish. He stared in disbelief as the whale that crashed into the tower bit it. Its jaws slammed through the top of the tower, ignoring all of the arrows and skills that had struck it.

Thud!

Something crashed overhead. The air cracked from the sound, and a whale fell from the sky. It crashed into the ground with another thud and left a half crater in the ground. He stared up and saw people fighting in the skies, and he realized that this was happening everywhere. Merra slowed beside him as she took in the sight too.

“No…”

The word was barely a whisper as it left her lips. He turned to her and saw the fear in her eyes. He was sure his own expression mimicked hers.

“W-what do we do?”

He tried to stop his voice from shaking. She shook her head at him, and her bow slowly fell to her side. This would be the end of their people. She knew it as much as he did, and she was just as lost as him too. Howls filled the air as the wolves caught up, and he glanced around at the shadows surrounding him. He forced himself to move and dragged Merra forward.

“Move! We can’t die here!”

“Where? We are doomed, all of us!”

She screamed the words at him. He stared at her and turned toward the skies. Whales fell as more died. People fell too. The wolves around them howled, and he knew she was telling the truth. They were a doomed people now. Whatever had happened in the north, it had killed them. Did they even know? He cursed whatever it had been. The anger and hatred granted him some resolve and he looked to Merra.

“I’m sorry. When this is over, kill me, but I will save us.”

Merra turned to him confused. She did not know of his skill, but she would find out now. He turned to the fallen bodies around him. The people and beasts that littered the ground and felt a connection to them like no other. He touched it the sliver of golden power that hovered over everyone that died. He knew what it was, a shard of their soul that lingered because of his skill. He touched it and corrupted it with a word.

“RISE!”

The singular word thrummed with a disturbing power, as the dead rose for his word. Merra shouted in horror and disbelief, but he saw the light of hope touch her eyes.

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Luke P.O.V

Luke froze realizing that the memory this time had been from less than a week ago. Anger, hatred, and fear rushed through him as Solir’s life mixed with his. This one was strange though. Solir wasn’t dead. Instead, this memory had been from when he abandoned the path. Luke realized at that moment what the trial was showing him. It was the lives and decisions of people who could have reached this divinity. Those that had failed for one reason or another. Luke looked around at the remaining souls. There were maybe two dozen left, and he wondered how many belonged to his brethren. Anger flashed through him again. Anger that was directed at Mash.

“Do not forgive him!”

Solir shouted through him. At him, as if it knew him. Luke shuddered as the necromancer’s emotions and thoughts overlapped his own. It froze him as the pure hatred surged and roared. It blamed Mash for everything, and Luke couldn’t come up with a defense. He could say that Mash didn’t know, or that he hadn’t meant for it but those were empty words. Intentions aside, Mash’s actions had changed the world. His people would only be one of many affected. Even still he tried to protest Solir’s words.

“No, you don’t know him. When he learns about it, he will help.”

“SO WHAT?”

Luke’s own voice twisted against his defense. Madness. He was shouting at himself, but the memories and thoughts burned strongly within him. The contempt, the disregard, the truth. Even if Mash went, the damage was done. Solir didn’t care about the future or forgiveness.

The conflicting emotions and thoughts warred within himself. A battle graver and more dangerous than any he had faced before. It happened just beneath the surface of who he was, and he struggled to come to terms with reality. When he did, he stared at the remaining souls with new resolve. It burned as he reached for the next soul. Luke would be the one to save his people, that was what this power was meant for.