Hoshun

Hoshun Village

Sleep gripped Akamori tightly until a blood-curdling scream tore him from his slumber. Eyes wide alert, he threw himself from his bed, spell blade clutched firmly in hand as he searched for his father. Kalenza wasted no time throwing on his spell armor. It was old, but serviceable. A throwback from their days as space riders with the Wing. Kalenza’s set had been handed down from chief to chief. Akamori had never seen Kalenza wearing it before, but in that moment, it looked so right on the man. Like he’d been born to wear it.

“Stay here and protect your mother. Do not go outside, do you understand? I need you here.”

System Info: Survive the siege of Hoshun

Akamori hastily swiped the notification missive aside. The fiery scroll burst into mana shards and motes of aether that faded. He protested weakly at his father's back as the man stormed out the door into the early dawn chaos.

Akamori debated chasing after his father when several zombies crashed into the house. Splintering wood and crushed stone heralded their intrusion. In a flash of motion, Akamori moved. He brought his sword down wildly, removing the first undead’s arm at the elbow, then spun and stabbed the weapon into its head as it tried to lunge down and devour him.

Hellish green soul magic flared in its eyes. He pinned its head to the wall with his blade. Congealed blood and saliva trickled out of its hanging jaw. Several blasts of air knocked the other undead off its feet. Akamori glanced up at his mother, who gave him a nod. He tore his blade from his current target and brought it down in a vicious slash that removed the head from the neck.

“Calm yourself, son. Your sword work is sloppy. If your father saw he’d have you practicing it until you went to bed while he dealt with this. You mustn’t let fear and despair take root. Be strong and have faith. Remember your basics. They will keep you alive.”

He flicked his blade, and the rancid meat splatted against the floor. He gave his mother a nod. “I understand.”

She cradled his head appreciatively. “Learn and adapt.”

He was about to respond when something hard and fast slammed through the wall of the house and caught him in the side. A cold, numb pain raged through his side, and for a moment he was weightless, flying even. Then he crashed down through a roof next to his own home.

He struggled to get to his feet, but his body responded sluggishly through the pain and numbness. Was he in shock? He clawed himself back to hands and knees in time to see a massive orc doing some wild renovation on his home. His mother fought back valiantly, but the Orc resisted her spells and slammed her down with its mace.

System Info: Congratulations! You’ve taken your first damage! Did you honestly think you could avoid it forever? Armor and spell shields will block or negate most damage. Try wearing some next time you try to tank an attack. Enjoy!

He grimaced, swiping the missive aside into smoke. Convinced whatever or whoever was feeding him those were out to make people confused or miserable. Maybe both? Definitely both. He took solace in the message, though. He just needed to be better, both in equipment and skill. What he saw next made his blood run cold.

Akamori could feel his heart pounding in his chest. No… NO. He pushed through the pain, biting back an agonized howl as he tumbled through a hole in his house and rolled to a stop next to his mother. Her eyes were glassy and partially clouded. She smiled when she saw him.

“Mother…”

She shushed him, cradling his cheek in her trembling hand. The side of his face was warm and wet from the blood at her touch. “There’s something I need to tell you…” she said, wincing with the pain.

“Save your strength, I’ll find help.”

She gripped his arm like a predator, not letting go of prey. “No,” she said, grimacing again. “Hear this. You have a greater destiny than simply being a clan chief. Your father and I… we hoped it would never come to pass.” She coughed, and blood sputtered free of her lips. She winced, regaining her composure. “We only wanted to give you a normal life.” Her eyes weakly scanned around to gesticulate. “Your place is beyond here. To stop… them.”

Tears fell down his cheeks. She wasn’t making sense, and he figured this was her trying to get closure with him. Had he been so rebellious and stubborn? Guilt suddenly racked him. He sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t understand.”

She smiled weakly, the light in her eyes fading. “You will… in time. You were… the best gift… I could… have prayed for…” Her breathing came in more soft, shallow gasps. A soft bubbling sound hitched from her throat between her words, causing his stomach to fall away from him. “You’re… stronger… than you… know. Spread your… wings… and fly…. my son.” She stopped breathing, and her head gently turned to the floor as the strength bled her body.

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He shook his head, sobbing. This couldn’t be real. A deep-seated ache settled into his heart. Something cold shifted deep within him. His hands trembled and all sound seemed to pull away from him save for an unsettling ringing in his ears. Soon all he could hear was his own heartbeat, thick and heavy in his ears like a banging war drum.

He rested his forehead against hers and whispered a silent apology. It was nearly impossible to shed the overwhelming grief that he’d been an unappreciative son and had stubbornly squandered his time with his family, and now that time expired. Reduced to ash and cinders. He couldn’t flee from this, and he couldn’t fight it. Left with the choice to stand and face it, and meet his death on his feet as he took as many of these bastards down with him on his way out.

Akamori stood slowly, limbs trembling. He wiped the tears from his face with his forearm, smearing dirt and blood across his cheeks and forehead. His long crimson hair clung to his sweaty face. Ignoring the pain in his side, he pulled a blanket from his bed and covered his mother's body. He drew in as deep a breath as he could manage and tried to push aside the roiling emotions. There were still people out there that needed help, and he had one less reason to hold back. As the adrenaline and anger surged through him, his pain numbed. The air magic in his chest pulsed wildly, begging to burst free of restraints.

He threw himself outside without another look back. An orc stepped in his way, sweeping a massive club at him. Akamori juked back and felt the wind gust in his face at the near miss. Wind. Wind. He could have hit himself. He was so dense. He was a mage. He had magic now. He could feel it sitting there within his soul. A part of him now. All the training and lessons his father had given him that he’d struggled with and constantly failed at came flooding back to him. He had magic now.

The Orc swung its massive weapon around again, and this time, Akamori summoned his magic. Spending one of his 11 AP points, he could feel a writhing current of air blow down his arm in tendrils and dance along his blade. The blade hummed with the vibration of the air wreathing it. He attacked, swinging the sword into the club. At the last moment, instead of firing a bolt of compressed air, the sword hurled a compressed line of air like a slash that extended from his blade. It cut cleanly through the club, throwing the orc off balance now that its center of mass had shifted.

Toppling over, the jade giant threw up a massive cloud of dirt. Akamori sprinted after the orc, running up its torso and swinging his blade at the Orc’s neck. Ichor spilled out as the head rolled away lazily. The adrenaline was fading, and the numbing pain returned to his side with each beat of his heart. It wouldn’t be too much longer before it would become crippling for him. He had to do as much as he could before he became useless. Take as many as you can before they take you. It became his new mantra.

He jumped off the dead orc’s body and found himself face to face with a dragon hatchling. It had been nearly a thousand years since his people had seen a dragon, never mind seeing one of their broods. It was taller than he was by a full head. It snarled at him and then smirked with amusement at him. Rows of small pointed teeth lined its angular snout. Grey with darker ash-grey spots colored its scales. It wore a simple battered black cloak over leather fittings.

“You’ll make a fun one to shackle,” it taunted him.

“You don’t want me. I don’t listen well, and I’m a slow learner.”

“You won’t have a choice in the matter, I’m afraid.” It raised its hand to cast a spell, but Akamori lunged after him. Sword swinging wildly. His technique was garbage, and any capable warrior might have handled him differently. His opponent wasn’t martially inclined, however. Meaning this would boil down to magic and who could land a hit faster.

He wasn’t sure how many times he could cast his air attack spells, so he stuck to physical attacks. His father taught him to depend on his blade work skills first before depending on magic. “It’s an asset, not a crutch,” he heard in his father's voice during their many training sessions. His blade hummed and sang as it swished through the air, nicking branches and catching the Hatchling’s cloak a few times.

He sidestepped, lunging back as a rock spike formed and fired for what would have been his chest. The spike stabbed into the side of a nearby wall and wobbled. He parried another down and away as he closed the gap, taking a wild swing that kept his opponent from casting safely more than anything else. He found himself at a stalemate.

The Dragonborn hatchling was bigger and presented a larger target, but Akamori couldn’t land a hit. Similarly, he was smaller and harder to hit, but he wouldn’t take much punishment before being done in. He had to deal with the hatchling somehow. He took another swing, missed, and the hatchling pivoted to cast in his blind spot when a blast of golden plasma struck the hatchling square in the back and hurled it into a distant home on fire.

“Are you ok?” Kusinaki shouted above the fighting and screaming. Akamori let his guard down for a moment and caught his breath as Amara and Kusinaki rushed to his sides.

“Where’s your mother?” Amara asked, concern in her eye.

He shook his head grimly and looked away. “She didn’t make it.”

“What’s your plan, then?”

“Kill as many of them as I can before they kill us.”

Amara’s expression softened before she nodded. “Very well. If we’re to die, let it be a good death.”

Blinding light and warmth filled his side, and he glanced over to see Kusinaki healing him. A moment later the warmth faded, and Kusinaki stumbled back, panting. “That’s all I can do for now. I took the worst of it from you, though.”

“Thank you, Kusi.”

The Order of Aeryn artificer nodded, propping himself up against his golden staff. They formed a loose triangle back to back, fighting off threats from every side. For a stretch, it almost looked like they might be the last to survive when a bloodcurdling roar sounded in the distance, and a dark shadow swept the landscape just before the ground erupted in front of them in protest. When Akamori saw the red-scaled dragon before him, he went cold with fear.

This is where I die.