Toren Daen

My fire-coated fist connected with the jaw of the zombie. The head lurched to the side unnaturally far, its neck audibly snapping. The body was sent flying off the rooftop, arcing down to the street below. I barely spared it a glance before I spun, catching Alun’s body.

His mouth was open in a wondering expression, his eyes peeled wide as if he still couldn’t believe what had happened.

He was dead; his neck twisted at an uneven angle.

Bursts of shock and fear erupted behind me as everybody’s mind caught up with what had just happened. Cries of terror and uncertainty erupted all at once, people clamoring behind me. Sevren blurred next to me, peering over the edge toward where the zombie had disappeared.

Amidst the outrage and fear, a hand gripped my shoulder. I turned slightly, still reeling at my failure to protect Alun. I’d seen this coming. But I’d been too late.

Jana looked down at the body with a haunted expression, her jaw trembling. “Alun… no, no no! Not like this!”

The distraught shield took the body from my hands, trying in vain to rouse him. I stepped back numbly, my thoughts a mess. I thought of that non-mage I’d failed to protect months ago in the Clarwood Forest expedition, his innards melted by an acidbeam hornet. I hadn’t known him; not truly.

But I had a name to my failure now. It wasn’t a stranger, condemned and hidden behind a helmet. Alun wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t entered the Relictombs. It was this zone that claimed him. The one changed by my presence.

“That was the one!” Hraedel said behind me, his voice angry. “She was the one who attacked us! Did she go rogue? She just killed her own teammate!”

Not quite, I thought, the picture I’d been forming settling. That was the sentry that the Twinfrosts had lost. Alun’s wife.

Or what was left of her. What remained after the undead took her corpse.

She could have easily passed for a human if it weren’t for the eyes.

“We need to move,” Sevren said with urgency, stepping away from the ledge. “The undead are breaking into the building down below!”

That was possibly the worst thing the Denoir heir could have said. Where before there was fear, now there was panic. I saw it in the expressions of the Aensgar Exiles as they clamored to the edges of the building. The Frost twins’ eyes widened, some unspoken communication passing between them. Even Alandra and Dima looked shaken by what they must have seen.

But these people were ascenders. They spent their lives always facing death, ready to trust their backs to strangers when needed. The Unblooded Party was the first to flush the panic from their systems, trying to manage a defense for the inevitable wave.

“We need to run!” Darrin yelled above the clamor of mages preparing for battle. “Jameson! We need your conjuring abilities, now!”

As Darrin hastily mounted an escape plan, my eyes were drawn to Jana. She hadn’t moved a single step, even when near everyone else peered over the edge and began battle preparations. Her single hand clutched Alun’s body, an empty look in her eyes.

“You need to destroy the body,” I said to her quietly.

She looked at me, horrified. “Wh-what?”

“That’s how they get more,” I whispered. “They add the dead to their numbers.”

I stood up, ignoring the look of betrayal that flashed across Jana’s face. I walked up next to Darrin, drawing Oath and Promise as I did so.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, not quite looking at the blonde striker. He had just finished directing Jared and another mage I didn’t recognize to the edge of the building, instructing them to do something.

Darrin spared me a glance. “Jared can conjure metal shields in links. If he alters his spell enough, he can conjure a walkway for us to cross. But that would be too slow. Jameson can make ice walls. He’ll be doing the same thing. We’ll get people across the gap to the next building.”

I saw through his plan immediately. “And after that?” I asked, keeping my attention focused on the rooftop access door to the pavilion. If I focused, I could hear the undead below us. Their constant footfalls pattering against the floors, more like a constant, neverending rumble than individual steps. Their groans reverberated through the air, audible only to me.

Darrin gave me an approximation of his usual playful smirk. “We’ll outrun these bastards. We’ll cross as many buildings as we need to.”

The man was lying. He didn’t have another plan to let them escape. “I’ve got the best mobility of all of you,” I said. “I’ll guard your rear.”

Darrin didn’t have time to protest. “Not alone,” Sevren Denoir said, stepping up beside me. “We never declared a winner for our race. You can’t say you’ve got the best mobility yet.”

“Yet,” I said, feeling the edges of my lips turn up.

The rest of the mages shuffled near Jared and Jameson, who were hard at work conjuring a bridge between the two buildings. In the few seconds since Darrin and I had started speaking, the structure was already twenty feet across, quickly approaching the other side.

The door thumped once, twice, then burst apart.

The corpses were met with spellfire. Bursts of flame, punches of wind, shards of ice, and shards of earth tore into the creatures with abandon. I lamented the dangers of using sound magic, so I relied heavily on my telekinesis and fire magic, throwing fireshot and crippling telekinetic pushes every chance I got.

Yet the undead kept coming. Our initial attack was forestalled by a few of the creatures throwing their own spells, malicious mana seeking to carve us apart.

One of the shields from the Aensgar Exiles stepped forward, pressing his hand into the ground. Tendrils of water burst up from cracks in the concrete, the writing tentacles catching basketball-sized chunks of earth before sending them hurtling back. The tentacles worked in tandem, pushing away anything that got too close and blocking as much spellfire as they could.

I stepped up next, brandishing Oath and Promise. My blades flashed an oily sheen, their edges severing skulls and piercing hearts. Focusing my magic through my hands, I was able to vibrate the cutting edge of both my saber and dagger. They passed through flesh and shield alike, shearing through anything in their path without resistance. With my telekinetic shroud shrugging off most stray spells and my own mobility keeping me from being locked down, I became a demon on the small pavilion roof.

The rooftop shook constantly, forces it was not designed to withstand crashing against the concrete. Flipping to the side to intercept a few searing arcs of fire that were headed for the bridge-makers, I felt a brief moment of hope.

The undead only had one way to reach us, creating a perfect choke point. With the sustained efforts of the mages present, the corpses died their second death, their gray, rotting bodies littering the ground. The bridge to the next building was nearly completed, the combined efforts of Jared and Jameson yielding results.

Only a few more seconds.

But then I felt something shift in the air. That same strange, obscuring effect that made the zombies' mana signatures indistinct began to slither like putty, advancing like a flow of magma toward one, undeniable source.

I felt like I’d been struck by a thunderbolt, recognizing the subtle, wafting change. It echoed back to what I’d done with my violin; how I pressed my will into the world. It’s intent, I thought. Or the visible aftermath of intent mixing with the ambient mana.

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I hadn’t been able to tell before because the effect was so sporadic. I recognized the black and white, while this was a formless slurry of gray. Now that some true will had been exerted over the effect, however…

The source of the change stood in the back of the doorway, looking at me with burning violet eyes. The humanlike thing had its neck twisted unnaturally, flesh peeling off its skull from a savage burn that coated half its dead face.

The undead that had slain Alun raised its arms, commanding the fields of intent to itself.

I can’t let it do whatever it's trying to do! I thought with a burst of fear. I crunched a corpse’s skull under my feet, uncaring of the bone and brain matter that coated my leather boots. I tossed Promise up, catching it by its tip. I cocked my arm back, my supernatural reflexes allowing me to account for the throw.

I threw my dagger, accelerating its advance with telekinesis. There was a boom as the sound barrier broke, a small shockwave blowing outward and knocking several corpses over. The dagger punched through several bodies on its way, entirely undeterred by the meat that dared obstruct its path.

But the zombies had begun to change even before I had decided to throw my dagger. The strangely intelligent zombie had clearly expected me to target it. Several mana barriers erected themselves in the face of my blade, conjured by the mindless corpse puppets nearby.

It was enough. Promise was pushed off course by the constant obstacles, the dagger embedding itself into the brick next to the rooftop door all the way to the hilt.

Dread pooled in my stomach as I locked eyes with the malevolent almost-human corpse. Violet pits stared out from beneath seared flesh, the exposed bone ruining the illusion of life.

And the monster’s change began in earnest. Instead of recklessly throwing themselves against our front line like wood into a woodchipper, the gnashing undead began to slow, measuring their approaches. They still stumbled over the bodies of their fallen brethren, their coordination and power minuscule. But they moved with purpose. With intelligence.

A dozen spells at once broke through the rooftop, making me stumble as the concrete shattered. Thankfully, most of the mages were crowded near the very edge of the rooftop, putting them well out of range.

But that wasn’t my main concern. A hole fifteen feet in diameter opened like a gaping wound in the rooftop, revealing a horde of snarling undead below. The strange smog of intent which caused the strange slurry effect on the ambient mana was gone from these, too.

We’d just lost one of our greatest advantages: the narrow gap the undead were forced to approach us from.

The zombie with the burned face… it had somehow taken command of these things. They acted with focus and strategy.

“Come on!” Darrin cried, his voice raw with effort. “Across the bridge! Everyone move, now!”

Jared and Jameson had completed their makeshift bridge to the next skyscraper. They stood by the side, ushering mages across hurriedly. The zombies had just begun to move, spewing out of the gaping rooftop hole like ants out of a hill.

I was forced back, unable to kill more than appeared. Spells came at us in large volleys, forcing me to lift up a still-snarling corpse as a shield.

A metal spear punched straight through its heart before glancing off my telekinetic shroud. I was sent stumbling back, a network of crystalline cracks spreading their fingers across my barrier.

“Toren! Get your ass over here!” Darrin called. He was busy guarding the bridge, sending a hurricane of punches and kicks in every direction imaginable. “You need to get out of there!”

I sent a regretful look toward Promise, which was still embedded into the bricks. I didn’t think I’d ever get it back.

But the relentless tide of death forced me back. I slammed my telekinesis into the ground, dashing for the bridge.

Sevren met me there, his wire blurring alongside his arms. His dagger created small shockwaves wherever it tore apart zombies, scything through skulls like the crack of a whip. He had a supernatural ability to control the dagger, even despite the weapon being a dozen feet away. He’d tug and twist the thin metallic wire, causing the dagger attached at the end to lurch in a way that seemed to defy physics, performing twists and turns around unsuspecting corpses.

He let the wire wrap around the bodies of a few of the monsters, pulling them into a misshaped bundle of limbs and rotting flesh. Then his arm blurred, snapping the wire like one would a whip.

The wire cinched shut in a millisecond, cutting all the bodies in half.

I slowly backed up the icy, metallic bridge, Darrin making a fighting retreat behind us. Sevren and I worked in concert, blurs of fire and the arc of my swept-hilt saber killing anything that got too close.

When we were halfway across the bridge, however, the next volley of spells came flying for us. While some of them were able to be intercepted with precise inputs of telekinesis, I spotted a large, flaming boulder careening toward the bridge. It was easily twice again as wide as the bridge itself.

My breath hitched. If I let that hit, it would destroy the bridge.

“Get back!” I said to Sevren, tossing Oath into the air beside me. The weapon floated serenely, caught by my telekinetic spell. I squared my stance, shifting my back foot behind me.

Sevren, feeling the buildup of mana around me, darted back. His teal cloak was a blur as he engaged his rune.

I concentrated several spells into my leg, focusing fire, sound, and a restrained telekinetic pull around my shin. I jumped, roaring as my entire body rotated in midair. My leg snapped out, the mana wrapped around it barely contained.

My roundhouse kick connected with the boulder at an angle, my mana rippling through the stone. The flame from my concentrated spell washed over the fire coating the rock, overwhelming it and emerging victorious. My sound-shrouded blow sent weakening tremors through the structure.

And my spellform’s pushes, combined with the force of my mana-empowered body and telekinetic shroud, obliterated the rock. It broke into a dozen pieces, spraying sideways with the gravelly sound of shattering stone.

The telekinetic shroud around my lower leg shattered from the pushback, small lattice-like shards spraying off my shin. I dropped back to the bridge, already feeling my leg beginning to bruise.

I spared a glance behind me. All the mages were across except for Sevren and I. Darrin watched me worriedly as the rest marched off in an orderly panic, their next destination unsure. “Don’t either of you kill yourselves! We’ll be waiting back at the Exiles’ base! I’ll pay your next tabs at the Shimmerken’s Hoard if you make it out alive!” the leader of the Unblooded Party called back to me before the urgent need for his leadership drew him away from our struggle.

I just needed to buy some time.

The horde continued their assault. This time I let Oath act on its own, the saber’s edge drawn to throats like iron is to a magnet. This freed up my hands for more ranged and wide-reaching attacks. Large fireballs and concentrated fireshot erupted from my hands with barely a pause. Together with Sevren Denoir, we reaped bloody vengeance on the undead that streamed up the hasty construct of ice and metal.

I felt the structure groan under my feet as more and more beasts piled on. Every now and then, a zombie would get shoved the wrong way by its brethren, tumbling to the street below.

But these monsters marched. Every now and then, an organized volley of spellfire hurtled toward the skyscraper behind us. I tried my best to intercept what I could, allowing our companions to make it deeper into the building and gain distance.

The bridge shuddered, the combined weight of so many bodies beyond its capacity.

I looked at Sevren at my side, noting the sheen of sweat soaking through his white hair. His breathing was slightly heavy, the constant mental strain of tracking the entire battle wearing him down.

I was in slightly better condition. While my muscles burned from their constant use and my mind threatened to be overwhelmed with keeping track of every obstacle at once, my mana was regenerating at a breakneck pace. I didn’t make everything back that I spent, but I was running at around three-quarters full capacity.

But we couldn’t keep this up much longer. I needed to change the game somehow.

I made my decision. “I’m going to break the bridge!” I said to Sevren, who had just reeled his bone-white dagger back in, catching it with a heavy thunk. “Get ready to use that mobility you’re so proud of!”

I got barely a glance at Sevren’s face, but I knew it was enough. He gripped his weapon tightly.

I built up mana across my palm, feeling the almost musical force ripple and distort across my hand. I had a moment to savor the sheer power I’d packed into the spell, draining my reserves a noticeable amount.

I slammed my hand into the bridge beneath me. My spell traveled through the structure in cascading waves, the vibrations making ice and metal shudder against each other.

For a moment, I worried that my spell hadn’t been enough. I’d have to try again, wasting precious moments and valuable mana.

Then I heard the crack. It was a single, faulting split that rent my ears, before the tons of weight forced upon the bridge predictably gave way.

I watched easily a hundred zombies fall in tandem with me, but I wasn’t worried. I was a contender for the most mobile mage in this zone.

I slammed a telekinetic push against a corpse that was clawing at me wildly, letting the force push me in the opposite direction. The undead’s head exploded in a shower of fetid gore, but I was already far outside its range.

My feet connected with the wall of the skyscraper, settling in a position half a hundred feet over the ground. From my brief glance downward, I watched with sinking horror as undead streamed into the base of the tower, no doubt climbing their way upward to chase my companions.

That check of the streets cost me dearly. I looked up, scanning the skies for Sevren Denoir. He would’ve been easily able to escape this with as much ease as I.

Except that wasn’t what had happened. Far above me, a gargantuan, misshapen thing loomed over the edge of the rooftop. A coagulation of limbs, heads, and rot meshed together to form a huge, hulking body. The titan of rot knit itself from the corpses around it, building itself taller and taller as flesh was willingly sacrificed. The fingers of the monstrosity screamed deathly wails, writhing and biting at the air. Its arms cried for release. Its legs wept.

A terrible effigy of a skull sat atop misshapen shoulders, smooth bone defying the grotesque nature of the giant. Where everywhere else bespoke decay, the skull seemed to gleam pristinely.

And in the flesh titan’s growing grasp was Sevren Denoir.