Madoc

Madoc’s sword cleaved through mummified flesh like butter, taking the arm off of undead revenant with ease. No sound escaped the creature's gaping mouth, yellow fangs gnashing the air in front of his head in a rage as Madoc spun and slashed out again, shearing the creature in half at the waist. A warm burst of aether flowed from his sword into him, the blades runes absorbing the aether that had been powering the undead creature. All around him fighting was reaching a fever pitch as the jungle came alive with unending undead bursting out of the foliage.

Sam was next to him, a great warhammer of black iron humming through the air as he pulverized zombie after zombie. They were holding a small path of space by the open hatch, while others rushed up the rope ladder to find refuge in the Jolly Walker. All around him the others were fighting with clinical skill, collapsing the mummified corpses one by one. A small knot of goblins armed with mag rifles, almost as long as the goblins were tall, formed a ring around the ship's officers. Captain Fisher was barking a string of orders as he cast strings of white hot fire, his cultivation the most advanced of all the survivors. Each string burned scores of the mummified zombies to ash, he held an entire section of the ship by himself.

It couldn’t last though. As the sounds of the fighting escalated, more and more of the zombies came staggering out. Already a half dozen of the survivors had been brought down, teeth digging into the flesh as they were mauled. Madoc was terrified, he had only left the safety of the orphanage a week ago and had already been attacked by pirates and now zombies. He was beginning to question whether he should have stayed in the Empire. Another of the staggering corpses rushed at him, surprisingly quick with their shuffling steps.

Madoc destroyed it in a single blow, the dusty head falling free from the rest of the body. More aether rushed into him. His body was alight with aether taken from the undead creatures, their stick thin bodies piling up around him like cordwood. Madoc had too much aether, without his wings he had no way to process the excess. He cursed again whatever it was that was preventing him from growing. This would be a great moment to grow, instead he was forced to vent the aether.

Blue flame glowed along the edge of his red blade, cold radiating out in a wave as frost froze the earth. A paradox, a freezing fire. Something that he had studied and had thought possible, but never had the power to do before. Now, he finally had the opportunity to test his theories. He hoped it wouldn’t get him killed.

He stepped out of the line of defenders, singling himself out as the nearby wall of zombies changed direction and started to charge toward him. Madoc took a moment to study them. Their skin was shrink wrap tight, browned, their eyes and tongues having decayed long ago. A pale green glow emanated from their eye sockets, they shuffled forward in short, quick strides. The remnants of armor adorned many of them, metal that hadn’t rusted, likely aether forged. All of them were bipedal, though many were missing limbs or chunks from their bodies.

Madoc focused on the ice flame. His aether was rushing through their channels with enough pressure, he was sure they would burst. Forcing them up, to take on the properties he wished, was a struggle. Image was so important, to see what the aether was going to do and will it into existence. The mental strain was immense, sweat dripping down his forehead in a sheet. He let them get closer, the flame growing colder until his breath misted out around him while ice began to creep up and over the earth in a white wave.

When they were only feet away, he pushed out the flame, picturing in his mind the all consuming freeze. Blue flame leapt off his blade as he flicked his wrist, the flame launching off as if it were liquid. Madoc watched as a tiny drop hit one of the zombies, spreading like a wildfire up its body. It burned its way inside, a thin layer of frost layering over its leathery skin. It managed a few more steps before the ice crystals started to grow out of its empty eye sockets, the pale green glow replaced with blue ice.

It froze there,the ice flame eating more and more of it, skin turning to ice. It became an unholy ice sculpture, standing there in the humid forest. Madoc looked around to see the full extent of the power he had just unleashed. Most of the flame had landed on the ground, spreading for a few moments before running out of fuel, leaving just an icy sheet in front of him. All the zombies had been affected though.

Even those that hadn’t been directly hit had ice creeping up their limbs slowly. Those that had taken a direct hit had been turned into unmoving statues like the one Madoc had watched directly. It had taken no more than ten seconds from his summoning the flame to using it. Fifty or more of the zombies were trapped now or destroyed.

“That’s not bad. Mind if I finish it?” Sam said, getting a brief break as all the zombies in their section were currently out of the fight. Madoc shrugged, feeling self conscious now as dozens of eyes looked at the display he had just created. The sudden loss of aether, after riding the high for the last hour, was shocking. Madoc was tired in a way he hadn’t felt in years, the type of exhaustion that could only be fixed by a long sleep and a hot meal.

Sam stepped forward and Madoc could feel the ambient aether churning around the big man. He wasn’t drawing on it directly, but rather he was using his own internal reserves to change their surroundings. It was incredibly hard and wasteful to use your own personal aspected aether to change ambient aether. Though it had some advantages if done correctly. Like amplifying attacks if no one contested it. Sam stepped forward, his hammer up and over his head, body bent backward, large gut straining forward. He brought the hammer down on the sheet of ice all the zombies were connected with.

Breaking ice sounded like shattering glass, a pleasant tinkling. The zombies shattered into thousands of pieces as the ice was obliterated by the heavy hammer. Madoc took a second to figure out what had just happened, and then had to admire it. Sam had used his own aether to change the ambient aether to be more receptive to a resonance attack. Sam attacked and broke a small section of ice, but the resonance had let the attack spread across everything attached to the small piece of ice.

Flashy and not very convenient and completely impractical against other aether cultivators, but against a mass of mindless zombies. Perfection. Sam slumped, his wide shoulders sagging as the rush of lost aether hit him. Madoc stood next to him, his own sword loose in his hand as they looked at the cleared area. More zombies were pushing in already, hitting the perimeter of the devastation the two had just created.

“Good work lads, now watch a professional,” Gom said waddling up and past them. The small gnome rolled up his sleeves, revealing forearms coated in wiry white hair. His pointed teeth were bared as he began to weave the ambient aether out of the air. A true aether mage and not just a mere cultivator then. Madoc backed away as the ground rippled, spikes of crystal blue erupting from the ground in a shower of dirt as they formed a curved wall around them. The zombies didn’t care about the sharp points, ramming themselves on them as they pushed further and further down the spikes in their vain attempt to close the distance.

“Nasty little bastards. Some type of necromancer is running around here. Nobbs! Get over here!” The little gnome was startling loud, able to yell over the constant cacophony of the battle. The taller saurian stepped out of Madoc’s shadow, rising up as if the ground was liquid till he stood right next to them. Madoc tried to keep the shock off of his face. He hadn’t felt the saurian at all until it appeared.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Go find the shit that is controlling these puppets,” Gom ordered without looking at Nobbs. The saurian just hissed in response before sinking back through Madoc’s shadow and disappearing. Madoc thought he saw the shadows sway by the edge of the treeline, but couldn’t be sure of it.

“Nobbs is the best tracker I’ve ever worked with. He will find the puppet master, no doubt!” Gom had a habit of shouting everything. Madoc and Sam just looked at each and shrugged. They had nothing to contribute that the mage would actually care about. Him and Captain Fisher were the two who would have to deal with any necromancer that was found. The two boys slowly backed away from the gnome to sit down on the ground next to the ladder. People were still crawling their way back up, and fighting still raged down the line, but they were going to enjoy their moment of peace.

“That divine steel?” Sam asked, nodding at Madoc’s red sword. Madoc looked down at his blade, still amazed that he owned such an exquisite weapon. Aether forged divine steel. Steel that had been created with divinity and then forged by an aether smith. A weapon for a true Scion. Something that he would have to grow into.

“Yes. A present when I left home. That and a ticket to anywhere.”

Sam nodded as he pulled a rag from somewhere and started to clean off the pitch black warhammer. It was seven feet long or so, the handle glossy black while the metal head was matte black. A vicious triangular spike jutted from the back. It was a brutal weapon of war. Suitable for an aether cultivator.

“That infernal iron?” Madoc was truly curious. He had never seen infernal iron before, only heard stories of the mythical metal. While divine steel was created by a god’s divinity, only growing inside of a domain, infernal steel was made. An infernal deity would have to bless regular iron, imbuing part of their divinity in it. It made it impossible to be worked, which was why it was iron and not steel.

“Yes. A present from my mother before her death.”

“Your mother was close to an infernal god?”

“We call them primal gods.”

“Truly?” Madoc asked. The infernal were the reason for the Divine War. Their urges had spurned on millenia of conquest.

“Yes, and yes. In the Frontier they are called the divine, the primal, and the elemental. Mother was connected and secured this for me when she realized what I was.”

“A princely gift.”

“Naw. A godly gift.” Sam said with a sly smile. Madoc had to repress a groan at the poor pun.

“How long have you worked on the ice flame thingy you did,” Sam asked after Madoc had finished complaining about the pun. The other boy had found a bottle of water from somewhere and was sipping on it while watching the barrier that Gom had created. It was beginning to sag underneath the weight of hundreds of the zombies.

“Years. The orphanage I grew up in had classes on aether manipulation and it got stuck in my mind. The paradox of a freezing flame. It consumes but creates.” Madoc explained.

“It’s cool. I like them turning into statues. Made it easy to smash them.”

“I don’t think the smashing was needed, the ice should have burned the aether that was powering them.”

“Better safe than sorry. I’m already regenerating my aether. I’ll be back on my feet in a few minutes.”

Madoc felt a flush of envy at the easy words. The other boy likely had an established core then. A way to process and aspect ambient aether and put your own mark on it. Much easier to do than manipulate ambient aether like Madoc was forced to. Madoc couldn’t develop a core until his wings came in, a curse and blessing of his heritage. All he had to figure out was why his damn wings were refusing to emerge. He could feel them, resting in his back. A metaphysical weight, both existing and not existing at the same time, just like aether. They refused to emerge though, and until they did he was forced to pull in ambient aether and convert on the fly. He couldn’t store any like Sam obviously could.

“Do you think Nobbs will find the controller?” Madoc asked, desperate to change the topic.

“Gom is confident and he seems competent. He built that barrier easily enough and when the aether is this turbulent, that’s not easily done. I doubt he has incompetent help.”

“Right, you are my boy!” Gom called out without turning around to look at them. He continued to stare at the jungle, waiting for his companion. The two boys fell silent in embarrassment at being caught gossiping. Their peace didn’t last long as the sound of arguing started to drift their way.

“I can fight! I am…I am good at fighting,” the stutter in the middle of the sentence was Lloyd Braxt almost informing everyone around him of who he really was. Which everyone already knew. That news had spread like wildfire the minute the pirate attack had occurred. The boy didn’t know that everyone knew who he was though and continued to try to act like he was incognito. And rather poorly at that.

“Yes, I know you can fight. Your father would take my ears though if I let you get killed.” His guards' exasperated tone alerted Madoc that this was an ongoing fight between the two of them. Madoc watched as the middle aged man continued to force Lloyd closer to the rope ladder and back into the relative safety of the ship. The rest of the bodyguards trailed behind, save for an old dwarf with a snow white beard. The dwarf had cozied up next to Gom, the two short figures sticking their heads together as they whispered furiously to each other.

“He’d do more than take your ears Sir Huntley. He’d take your head!”

“Yes. Which just reinforces my point that I’m not letting you anywhere near the fight. I like my head right where it’s at.” The leader of the guards, Sir Huntley, was a middle aged human with thinning blonde hair and deep wrinkles around his brown eyes.

Sam and Madoc exchanged a look before deciding that discretion was the better part of valor. Both gathered their weapons and got to their feet, heading toward the failing barrier and the soon to be horde of zombies. They only needed a few more minutes, the press of bodies seeking to escape the attack having thinned. Now only the officers of the Jolly Waker, Lloyd Braxt’s party, and those holding the line were left. The thousand plus of others had already gotten behind steel.

“Those two are no older than me, and see how they stand the line! How can I inspire my people if I am not able to stand the line! I must say Sir Huntley, that I begin to think you mean to be some pampered posh, who allows others to fight for them!”

“That’s kind of the point of bodyguards. You can stand the line when you are an adult and trained and armored and have your army surrounding you. And when your father isn’t around to take my head,” Huntley explained in his long suffering tone as he started to shove the young heir up the ladder.

“I will want to come with you when you hunt the necromancer,” the old dwarf was saying as they walked up to the quietly whispering pair. Madoc had a moment of realization that the dwarf was the only non-human in the young noble’s contingent of guards. Most of them looked like middle aged handlers, serious veterans and powerful cultivators. This dwarf looked to be on his final legs. His bushy beard was white as snow, his face was creased with deep lines, his nose a smashed and reset knob of cartilage. His squared teeth flashed as he talked, revealing gold and silver teeth that had replaced half of his original teeth.

“Oh, the two of you are the ones who did the ice and shattering! What splendid work. To be young and dumb again. Enjoy your idiocy!” the dwarf declared with the widest of smiles before tottering off toward the ladder. His deep rumbling chuckle left Madoc wondering if he had been serious about calling them dumb or not.

“You two want in on the hunt? I want Fisher to offer a reward before I volunteer to kill the necromancer. I need a few extra hands though, to keep the shamblers off of me while I kill them.”

“Do we get paid?” Madoc and Sam asked together. Both paused, looked at each with a wry smile, then looked back down on the gnome.

“Boys, let this be a lesson to you. If you’re going to do something dangerous and dumb. Get paid for it. Always. No exceptions,” Gom looked deadly serious as he told them.

“Yeah, I’m in. You in Mads?” Sam said with a predatory look in his eyes.

“If I get paid, I am. So we just have to go and convince Fisher to offer a bounty for killing the necromancer?”

“Or whatever is animating all of the dead. Could be a curse, rogue god, necromancer, or whatnot. Doesn’t matter. I kill it, we get paid.” The gnome stuck out his hand with a feral smile.

“What do you mean rogue god?!?” Madoc exclaimed.