“Hold still!” The Hoduth seeing to Jack gently slapped his arm as she rubbed some gel into his burns, which quickly stopped stinging and gave way to a cooling sensation. “I would try giving you a stim to knock you out but I have no idea if that would even work. At least the Stygian isn’t complaining…”
Jack sighed, acknowledging the medic’s dark humour with a slight nod, looking at the unconscious form of Nya as he did.
Upon being escorted by Captain Ivar and his squad to the surface, he had been quickly medevaced to another Clan Bharzum holding that had been converted into a temporary hospice, with several of the clan wizards working in tandem to also begin teleporting those that had fled to the school. Unlike the outpost they had left, this complex encompassed three adjacent districts and hadn’t been dug deep, serving as offices and residences for the clan. It was in one of the larger buildings that the respectable medical wing was temporarily expanded to encompass several nearby rooms to cater for the large number of injured, with more being carefully brought in by Hoduth porters one at a time.
“That should do you for now,” the medic told him. “Just wait here for now and don’t go anywhere until we get back to you, since we’ve got more victims being brought in we need to look at. Keep an eye on the Stygian while you’re here and shout if her condition deteriorates any further.”
“Will she be alright?” Jack asked, only for the medic to audibly suck in a breath.
“I have no idea how she’s alive if I’m honest, but at least she’s stable, possibly due to some passive magical effect or drugs in her system - I haven’t got the scans back yet,” the Hoduth candidly replied, looking down at Nya. “You did well, by the way. Not only getting this one out, but a few of the other teams are getting reports of someone matching your description saving and treating them.”
“I did what I could.” Jack sighed. “Still doesn’t feel like enough.”
“We have a Chuna who’s in an absolute state that’s been asking for you by name, and we have a critically wounded Anicite who others have told me knows you.”
The weight on Jack’s mind was lifted slightly by the news that Vanya and Kizzarith had been recovered by other response teams, but lurched when he heard how bad a state they were in.
“Yes, I know them,” Jack confirmed. “How-”
“We’ll do what we can but I can’t promise anything,” the medic replied curtly. “The Chuna only has defensive physical wounds, and the Anicite is pumped full of drugs. Don’t worry about them, I need you to stay on the Stygian for now until the experts we’re bringing in can have a look at her.”
“Sure.” Jack sighed as he slumped back in a chair that had been provided to him. He stayed like that for several moments, left alone with only the pained, laboured breathing of Nya giving background to his thoughts.
“What the hell happened to you?” Jack whispered to the unconscious Stygian. “I didn’t even see you at the party, and nobody mentioned you were going. Though I suppose if I saw your weird friend skulking around I should have expected you to be nearby too.”
He had no idea where Rena had gone. After meeting her in the complex, she had slunk off as quickly as she arrived and didn’t follow him, possibly to cover more ground, but Jack did find it strange that he hadn’t seen or heard anything about her once he’d found Nya. He knew that if it was any of his closest friends in the same position he’d be right there the moment he got the news. As it was, the last he had heard about them when he made it to the security nexus was that they were okay, and he was confident he would see them soon. They could handle themselves.
Looking to the door, Jack could hear the noises of medics and other staff running around, mixed in with the occasional shouting. Nobody came in to see them however, as several people were gurneyed to other nearby rooms based on the severity of their injuries. As Jack relaxed, however, and the last of his adrenaline faded away, he groaned as the aches and pains began to flare up and itch, and knew he didn’t want to get up again for a while. If he had known he’d be this comfortable he’d at least try to get a drink beforehand.
*****
"Are you capable with healing magic?" one of the Hoduth medics asked.
"I dabble," Svaartal distractedly replied as he examined Svaarti's spellscars.
The Nirah was beginning to seriously regret allowing the Clan Bharzum representatives to convince him to bring his sister here, but after the Hoduth had failed in keeping their own holdings secured and allowed the attack to happen, he hoped they would at least provide some decent care for fixing Svaarti's injuries and not be completely incompetent about it.
He had failed to find Devil's Daughter to finish her off. From what he examined of the astral signature she left behind, she had used a very desperate teleport to get herself out of there, and with luck, she would have ripped herself apart in the process. Unfocused teleportation was highly risky after all, but Svaartal knew that a potent warlock like Devil's Daughter would likely have ways to mitigate the risk. He had practised for such a scenario himself, after all…
He had no doubt they'd meet again.
"Would you be able to lend what aid you can?" the medic tiredly asked. "Even if you're only able to heal minor wounds, anything you can do to assist our staff would be greatly appreciated."
"How much?" Svaartal asked, not really paying any attention.
"W-what?! You’re asking for money? Don't you want to help your friends from school?" the Hoduth asked, completely shocked by Svaartal's response, who just scoffed at that.
"They wouldn’t give a shit and they’d leave me for dead if given the opportunity," the Nirah dismissed. "We've done enough for you people - my sister has paid a heavy price and I just came out of a fight with Devil’s Daughter herself.”
Svaartal suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, as another patted the medic on the back.
“It’s alright, Dalir,” Sigrin Bharzum reassured the medic with a friendly wink before turning to Svaartal. “I assure you, we shall compensate you well. I have already given you assurances for what you have done so far. Surely the matter of healing would be trivial for a powerful spellcaster like yourself?”
Svaartal was not stupid in the slightest, and knew Sigrin was buttering him up in an attempt to manipulate him; however, he found he wasn’t that bothered by it. Everything he could do on the spot for Svaarti he had already done, and he had already sent a message to one of his contacts within House Mal’Kar. Some extra money and prestige couldn’t hurt, and out of all the members of Clan Bharzum he had met tonight, he found he had some respect for the acting Elder despite everything that had happened.
“Fine,” Svaartal grunted in agreement. “First we get Svaarti secured.”
“That’s acceptable,” Sigrin replied, taking Dalir’s spot at the rear of the gurney. “You can help with the next lot, Dalir, I’ve got this one.”
The medic nodded and scampered off as Sigrin led them down a corridor.
“So,” Sigrin idly spoke up after several moments of silence. “Devil’s Daughter, huh? Most people in your position would have run. Did you kill her?”
“Maybe,” Svaartal replied curtly. “Unconfirmed. She teleported out and is probably many miles away by now if she isn’t dead.”
“I’m kinda curious why she went after you and your sister though?” the Hoduth asked casually. “Something about your sister’s staff clearly piqued her interest.”
“More Devilspawn lies,” Svaartal growled. “She accused my sister of stealing a family heirloom that is ours by right. I’m not going to give the words of an enemy much credence. She probably wanted to take it from us while making up a justification, you saw what my sister did with it.”
“That I did.” Sigrin nodded. “I’ve called in a favour with a cabal of wizards that I worked with in the past since we’ve got reports of some other magical wounds among the injured, and they can hopefully treat your sister. Unfortunately, Clan Bharzum does not have much magical talent in-house, but perhaps that could change…”
Svaartal didn’t look too curious, so Sigrin got to the point. “From what I understand, you are aligned with a Drow House, but perhaps instead you and your sister could be aligned with Clan Bharzum.”
Svaartal scoffed at that prospect, but Sigrin didn’t appear perturbed in the slightest.
“As an adventurer I’ve learned to work with all sorts of people. Mercenaries, idealists. Good, bad and neutral. Most of the Elders of Clan Bharzum would disagree with the idea as you have, but not me. Both you and your sister could be a good fit. We need magical talent and I haven’t met anyone that can do what the two of you did tonight.”
“Not interested,” Svaartal sneered. “I am no oathbreaker and House Mal’Kar offers much more than you ever could. Security, for one thing.”
If Sigrin was offended by Svaartal’s response she didn’t show it. “I don’t expect you to accept my offer right now, but perhaps you will remember this conversation.” The Hoduth inclined her head with a sly smile. “The offer to join us and work for me is an open one, though perhaps if your contract allows for it in the meantime, I could hire you for jobs if they don’t conflict with House Mal’Kar business.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Carrow squawked from atop Svaartal’s shoulder, peering at the unusual Hoduth with curious eyes. “My master is far more than a common mercenary.”
“Fair enough.” Sigrin nodded and dropped the subject. “You will be compensated well for tonight and the Elders may wish to speak to you…”
Svaartal sighed heavily at that, making it clear he was not in the mood for pointless chatter.
“Very well.” Sigrin sighed, while indicating a room at the end of the corridor. “You can keep Svaarti in here. From what I’ve seen of wizards overcasting beyond their natural limits, rest is the best medicine, but guidance and corrective therapy will help. She can stay here for as long as she needs.”
“We shall see. I want to be nearby in case Devil’s Daughter tries to make another attempt. If she comes anywhere near us, I’ll end her.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Opening the door, Svaartal’s eyebrows rose as he saw the room was already occupied. Frost was sat in a chair at the end and had just perked up on seeing the newcomers, though his look of curiosity quickly turned to shock as they wheeled Svaarti in, setting her next to the other comatose patient in the room.
“What the fuck happened to her?” Svaartal asked, pointing at Nya, who was covered in so many bandages and blankets that she was barely recognisable.
“We believe she may have encountered a Klown mage, or possibly even the one you said was helping Dr Grine, Jack,” Sigrin explained, acknowledging the human. “Good to meet you in the flesh, by the way. Sigrin Bharzum, Acting Elder.”
“A pleasure,” Jack acknowledged with a nod. “Will Svaarti be alright?”
“We won’t know until the mages look at her - they’re on their way, but I need the both of you to help keep our patients stable until the extra medics we’ve hired get here. We’ve got some droids at the school helping, but there’s apparently been some issues with them, so we’re bringing victims here and setting them up for long-term care.”
“Are there guards for my sister at least?” Svaartal asked, sounding annoyed after quickly gazing for barely a moment upon Nya’s aura, disappointed that it didn’t look anything like the aura of Devil’s Daughter. A foolish thought.
“I can have a few of our young reservists guarding the door within a few minutes,” Sigrin quickly agreed. “Our home districts are on full alert now, but I’ve prioritised our local troops with getting the wounded here.”
“I’ll protect them!” a high-pitched voice squeaked out, as T’Chika peeked out from under Svaarti’s makeshift blanket, creating some kind of magical sparks to try and look tough in an utterly non-intimidating manner.
“I am sure you will protect your master to the best of your ability, T’Chika,” Svaartal replied with a barely concealed smile before he turned to his own familiar. ”Carrow, guard the room. Alert me immediately if anyone enters and stall them until I arrive, especially if they’re magically active. If hostile, engage and kill them.”
“By your command, Master,” Carrow squawked, as the Corvid began using their innate magic to conjure arcane protections.
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” Sigrin sighed as she led the two boys to another, larger room with more victims nursing smaller wounds. “But your familiar doesn’t strike me as having healing powers.”
“Yes…that’s right…” Svaartal hesitantly replied as his eyes fell on Jack, who had no doubt in his mind that the Nirah was lying to some degree due to him being around. In truth, Carrow had some limited ability to heal himself and his master, which he had already fully utilised during the fight with Devil’s Daughter, but he didn’t want to reveal that information publically.
Both Jack and Svaartal awkwardly followed behind Sigrin, not saying anything to the other, while occasionally sneaking a glance at the other’s wounds. They could clearly see that they had both been through their own personal hell tonight, though as the door opened to reveal the large hall with conscious wounded, both boys knew it could have been a lot worse.
The first person Jack saw was an orange-furred creature with four arms and a short, thick tail, who had taken multiple hits with plasma and laser fire and was shaking so vigorously Jack had to ask a passing medic for some kind of sedative, because there was no way he was going to trust himself to administer drugs with his extremely limited medical knowledge, which didn’t even account for alien peoples in the first place.
Making sure to keep his tone of voice light and reassuring, he gently cut away at the burned, melted fur before rubbing in liberal amounts of cooling gel while avoiding the blisters, eventually wrapping it up in a sterile dressing while cautioning the student, who had shakily introduced himself as Zinqeth, to not pick at it despite how itchy it would get.
The second student was much the same way, though initially much calmer. Bizh was of a blue avian species with a scrunched-up face, who winced as Jack removed several of her singed feathers near her wounds that were all grouped close together. Talking to Jack to distract herself from the pain, she speculated that one of the Klown Kommandos or maybe even one of the Named had taken a shot at her. Fortunately, she had apparently made it back thanks to the help of Svaartal of all people. He was surprised, but glad to hear that. Perhaps his words did reach the Nirah after all…
The third person he helped was of a more exotic species he was less used to, but he didn’t let that get in the way of doing what he could to help them. The closest thing Jack could describe them as was some kind of feathered serpent from Aztec mythology on earth, naturally floating off the ground through some aspect of their biology, likely as an offshoot of their natural affinity for sorcery, as Obeda was happy to inform him as Jack tried his best to secure a bandage around them. According to several witnesses, Obeda had managed to slay several Klowns in the opening moments of the attack, assisting Elder Torvin Bharzum who mounted a desperate stand at the thickest point of the assault.
“He told me to run and I did…” Obeda hissed morosely as Jack ended up wrapping a bandage all around their serpentine body. “I should have stayed, maybe I could have…”
“No,” Jack interrupted, as Obeda stared ahead, his spectacles askew. “He wanted you to get out of there and you got out, you did what you could, and from what people have been telling me, you saved a lot of lives yourself through your actions.”
“I saw the Elder die.” Obeda sighed. “I was one of the last ones out of there before they were overrun and they set off the explosive mining charges. The only reason I survived was because I followed Luvianestixx and her group of survivors to the entrance before I blacked out.”
“I hope you feel better.” Jack patted him on the closest thing he could estimate to a shoulder as he finished up with Obeda’s physical injuries. “I’m not a shrink, but we both went through something similar. If you want to talk, here’s my commcode.”
Obeda copied it over to his commlink, still giving off a thousand-yard stare but having enough energy to thank Jack with a slight nod of acknowledgement. Jack walked off to find someone else to help out, glancing down at his commlink and doing a double take as he realised how many hours had passed since he started. He had pretty much been on autopilot the entire time he had been helping people, and now saw that there were many more medics who looked far more qualified than him doing the rounds, as well as a familiar figure making their way towards him.
“Jack! Thank the gods you’re alright!” Alora yelled out as she ran and flung her arms around the human, who winced a bit from the pain but otherwise returned the hug with one arm.
“Hey Alora,” Jack managed to groan back through his cracked ribs, being reminded of his own injuries. They stayed like that for several moments, a moment of calm in the storm of misery. “I’m glad you’re alright, what about the others?”
“We’ve all taken hits.” Alora sighed. “Nika’s hurt the worst along with Dante, and they’re currently resting in one of the rooms. Sephy and Chiyo got hit too but they’ve been helping out the medics last time I saw them, though there’s word of experienced medical staff relieving those without experience as they arrive here, so they might tell you to report somewhere soon to get yourself patched up now that the more critically injured are stable and secure.”
“What about you?” Jack asked as he leaned against a wall, thoroughly tired from the night but trying not to show it.
“I took a few stray shots but I healed myself up so it was nothing serious.” Alora sighed, sounding even more tired than he was. “I’ve been working all night, and I used up my healing power last night too after the Pallid Pit. I’m going to need to lie down soon, but on the plus side I’m getting even better at this.”
“Same, it’s amazing what moving from one near-death experience to the other will do to give you experience in surviving it,” Jack quipped with a slight smile.
“Yeah…” Alora softly replied with a heavy exhale of breath. “Not everyone was so lucky. While it could have been much worse, so many people died tonight, and Clan Bharzum are still recovering the bodies they can. I saw them bring Arlox in, Jack. I have never seen Crill so distraught before in my life. He went in with some priests that will try and bring Arlox back, but even if they manage to do that, he’ll never be the same…”
Jack shut his eyes tight as the news of Arlox’s death washed over him. He had liked the aquatic boy in the short time he knew him, and had fun playing Deathball on the same team as him. And it wasn’t just him. He hadn’t known the Crypts or even Killer Kush for that long, but despite all the shadiness and the latter trying to kill him, Jack still found that he mourned for them all the same. They had fought a common enemy in the end, even at the cost of their own existence.
“Even among the living many of us will never be the same,” he finally spoke out as Alora held on to him, knowing his pain. “This was meant to be a good moment we could all enjoy, and I just…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, just saying, “Sorry.”
He and Alora just stayed there in silence, neither having any words for the other as the reality of the aftermath hit home. The sight of cuts and burns was one thing, but for Jack, it was the sounds that got to him. The sobbing and weeping of victims as they rocked back and forth, the shuddering of others as they pushed themselves as far as they could against the walls, eyes widening in fear at any sudden movements around them, and the heavy hyperventilating of other victims as they relieved their memories of the terror. All of it washed over Jack, and threatened to consume him with despair.
I can’t lose it now. I can’t look weak. I have to be strong. I need to do something!
Alora seemed to notice a shift in Jack’s mind as his body stiffened and straightened. He buried all of his fears, hate and sadness deep in his mind as he threw himself into a new purpose.
“Our friends need us,” Jack spoke up with a new edge to his voice as he looked to Alora, who nodded in agreement. “Can you talk to Vanya? It can’t be me. I don’t know how far it got or if it was definitely what I thought it was, but I had to leave her alone after what happened.”
“Oh gods…” Alora quietly gasped, understanding what Jack was implying. “I had heard rumours from others, but I never thought…”
“Yeah.” Jack nodded with a grim expression. “And since Svaarti is in a coma, you’re the best person I can think of who would know what to do.”
“I’ll find her.” Alora nodded grimly. “What about you?”
“Kizzarith. I’ll try and see him if I can and give him a few words of encouragement if he’s regained consciousness,” Jack replied quickly. “Nya and Svaarti were both comatose last time I saw them, what about our other friends?”
“Luvia and Plooderoo are probably getting treated now, or if not they will be soon. Both of them have hardy constitutions so probably had to wait, same as you. Kritch seems to be coping surprisingly well, I last saw him with Zayle. Rayle is in critical condition, maybe you’ll see them when you see Kizzarith? Don’t know about anyone else we know, so I hope they’re alright…”
“Yeah.” Jack nodded before a group of medics wearing green uniforms approached them.
“You two, we’ve been looking for you,” the leader called to them, not unkindly. They were a short being with extremely pale, brown skin, large black eyes and a snout with whiskers. In a way he looked similar to the rat-like Lizta, but was more mole-like in Jack’s eyes.
“Apologies, we’ll get back to work, Lector.” Alora tiredly sighed.
“No, no,” the Lector replied with the closest thing to a friendly laugh they could manage given the situation. “The Sect of Esin are here to relieve you, and assist any other healers Clan Bharzum can find and hire. The Outsider should have been relieved over an hour ago, and I can see your magic is almost depleted. Both of you need to rest and come back fresh, the whole city is reeling from this mess.”
“How bad?” Alora asked. “We’ve heard there have been other attacks but don’t know the details.”
“It’s bad.” The Lector’s face was deadly serious. “Nobody knows how, but there have been deep strikes all over the city. The Killer Klown must have been spending the last two years building up his forces for this, and there are rumours he was spotted trying to besiege the Temple of Hope!”
“He didn’t succeed, did he?” Jack asked, dreading the potential answer.
“No.” The Lector emphatically shook his head. “Though at great cost to the Temple Guard. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Killer Klown planned it that way since he’s done it before.”
“Build the pyre and watch it burn,” Alora growled. “The Killer Klown sows the seed of chaos in the name of his foul god.”
At that moment several people nearby shouted in alarm as they pointed to something on the wall. Responding to the activity, everybody nearby looked towards the screen on the wall which had just turned on by itself, revealing the obese purple-and-yellow suited form of the Killer Klown. His wide grin of bloody, sharp teeth widened to insane levels as he gave a mocking salute to the viewers, twirling his top hat before planting it back on his head.
“What joy and fun to be had this night! I most certainly hope I gave you a fright…”
The Killer Klown spoke with a flamboyant growl, giving a sadistic grin as he stared directly through the screen. Jack’s jaw clenched in anger as he took in the expression of the freak that stared at him, as if staring into his very soul.
“But tonight was a mere morsel, nothing more than a taste. I will cut through you all, until you’re erased!”
Several frightened whispers came from the crowd, but all of that washed over Jack as he kept a laser focus on the screen.
“Run or fight or you will all learn, that by my will this ring will BURN!”
As the feed cut out, Jack stared at the empty television screen, as sheer rage roared within his mind like a thunderstorm.