Hours earlier, the dying light of the sun left but a small chill on Tlara compared to the sight in front of her. The figure was still completely garbed and there was only the protruding beak pushing into the veil that gave any hint of the person underneath. But the voice was the same.
It’d been eight years. She remembered the night. The Assassin who’d taken the contract had been quietly executed. Not for trying, but for succeeding in a way that somehow meant she couldn’t return. Having an Assassin in the city was seen as a boon before that, and the Council had decided to allow them to take contracts to train the valuable resource. It’d stressed the reviver in the church of the Hand, but what was he but another resource?
All attempts to view it as a kind of game died with her mother, and the Assassin himself when Aucrest had his way. But if her mother had been beyond the Octyrrum’s help, how was she here now? Why was she attacking her daughters? And a last question that she felt she had to ask: What is she?
The figure’s head turned to the walls for a second. “You’d be wise not to try anything to alarm someone. If I have to, I’ll kill her too.”
Why the fuck is she telling me that? Her mother had downed Willow immediately, without tripping Tlara’s senses before appearing. Why bother warning her? Hell, why attack her useless sister first? Spinner’s dying. Shit, she tore out one of its fucking hearts. “You’re crazy. Or, or some kind of fucking monster.”
The figure took a step forward, but carefully. Wary of something? “Casia Seliri, but that was Everdown before the marriage. Not that you would know, but I honestly didn’t mind losing the true name. I am not insane, Tlara. My perspective is simply beyond one life now. If it’s any solace, the rest of our family will survive and ascend to be more than you ever could be with your class.”
“You’re not her.” Tlara didn’t move, afraid that would provoke something. “I don’t know what you are, but my mother’s fucking dead.”
“Yes. It did hurt. Your father didn’t see it coming.” A sleeved arm gestured towards Willow. “I see he’s learned nothing, to trust her with the same ring.”
Tlara’s heart was pounding. None of this made any sense. It was like hearing the voice of that thing in her head all over again. Like all of her fears about Spinner’s nature compressed into a single moment. This thing in front of her was wrong, not fitting with the world as it should. But more than that, why was it taking its time? Gloating? Tlara could understand that, begrudgingly. Still, that wasn’t a trait her mother had possessed in life. “So you’re just going to kill me because of some greater good bullshit?”
“It’s hardly something new, isn’t it? Your father was one of the ones that agreed to let the Assassin loose.” The heart the thing had plucked was gone now, spirited into the robes through a parting angled away from Tlara.
Why is she entirely cloaked? The sun? It was a conclusion one who had lived with duskers would come to. Something completely useless now that it was night. A frantic pass of the surrounding sand showed not one ray of light left.
“You’ve gotten more observant,” Casia commented. “I wondered how you would fare out in the fringe. I almost asked after you, but that would have revealed me too soon.” She was halfway to Tlara now, and the Beastmaster had no doubt the pace would quicken if it needed to. “It’s a shame it came to this. A day longer and this wouldn’t have mattered. Had I listened to your sister about the ‘special monsters’ sooner, this meeting would have been unnecessary. I wish I could tell you how important that heart is, but I’m past the point of bending to pointless sentimentality.”
“What class are you? Assassin?” Tlara was still incredulous that the thing in front of her was a person, but she was trying to keep it talking.
Casia laughed. “No. I am beyond them. Would that I could free you from this miserable existence, but you made your choice. When the time comes, I can at least save Willow and your father.”
Alright. She’s fucking insane. Stop talking with her you idiot and think. Tlara’s only offensive ability usable against mortals required eye contact, impossible in this case. Neither did she want to get close enough to try removing that veil. Fortunately, Beastmasters relied little on themselves.
Tlara had not yet received anything to allow her to command her monsters mentally. Auditory instruction was the classic route, with most developing shorthand to simplify complex orders mid-battle. Signing was also an option for most races, one she chose now. The thing stopped to observe Tlara’s hand, a note of puzzlement in its voice. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means ‘fuck you’, Mom,” Tlara replied venomously, middle finger extended. Intent made it more than just a gesture. There was a reaction from Casia, too slow. Amidst the dialogue and internal strife, Tlara had been using abilities on Spinner. Improve Natural Weapon and Hardened Carapace were classics, even for creatures without an applicable exoskeleton like ringcats. It was a rare Beastmaster power that required an incantation, usually for special attacks, and what claimed to be her mother had made a fundamental error in believing Spinner to be dead.
It, she?, was just playing dead. Monsters could have more than one heart. Rarely more than one brain, and destroying one of those in a multi-cerebral creature would cripple it. In Spinner’s case, while the circulatory system was fucked up and would be a bitch to fix, that didn’t mean the silk shocker couldn’t fight.
The lumbering mass charged. Bereft of a network of webbing to discharge electrical attacks, its weight was its greatest immediate weapon. It struck and the cloak around the woman deformed. Tlara’s initial relief skewed as Spinner continued through the figure as if it were just a hanging pile of rags. No resistance at all.
She threw herself to the side, no real reason behind the motion other than grim cynicism. True enough, an attack came in from behind, cutting at the space where she’d been. For all the crap people gave her, they forgot that Tlara still hunted monsters with the rest. Just from a distance, where you got good practice at dodging ranged attacks.
Spinner was directed at the new creature, defined as such because there were now long claws coming out of the wrapped hands. Tlara was still unsure about what exactly she was facing but was beginning to accept this was her mother. Did Mom get a class? She blinked at her own stupidity. How else would she be doing this? Idiot.
So, claws probably meant Totem Warrior? But teleportation like this, traveling with the sand? What was up with the cloak? Experience and abrasive personality aside, what Tlara was not comfortable with was fighting other mortals. So much variability compared to the predictability of monsters.
Oh fuck. Fuck! Only now did Tlara remember to begin charging her Stasis Pouches. It took no active concentration to ready a summon, but the process did have to be started. With the act taking a slow drip of mana even when ready, she didn’t have another one active. Meanwhile, her fucked to all Crest silk shocker was doing a fair job against the enemy. Now alert to sneak attacks and benefiting from active enhancements, Spinner was guarding her organs and taking only surface wounds. The monster was level 3, large, heightened above the capabilities of others of its kind and, in addition to all of that, special. In a way that had shaken Tlara to the core to consider, no less appreciate.
Tlara kept her focus on the duel, wary of another strike towards her even as she issued coded commands. Fortunately, her opponent couldn’t split into multiple bodies as she’d briefly feared. If Casia could do that, she was fucking dead. No way she could fight multiple of that. She did spare a glance towards Willow, now out of the way of the fighting. Her sister was breathing, with no sign of being in immediate danger of dying. Shit, she’s as aggravating as a cracked talon but still…
The Beastmaster grew worried as she realized something. Spinner hadn’t hurt Casia once. Oh, she’d bashed her way into the cloak or grasped it entirely with one of the more humanoid forearms, but they’d come away holding nothing even though someone had been there moments before. Shoulders were bulging out when claws swung, the movement of the tail feathers along the rear with repositioning, someone was in there! Up until the last moment, then they would disappear into a cloud of sand.
Should I run for the walls? No, fuck that, she’d focus me. Coming so far out to avoid attention was costing her now. Spinner in her current state couldn’t protect Tlara and keep up a decent speed towards the walls. As it was, she was slowing, and Tlara wouldn’t be ready to pull out her wyvern any time soon. In the face of a practically invulnerable opponent, Tlara pulled out a truly desperate maneuver. “Why are you doing this?” she pleaded. “Just fucking go!”
Casia backed off for a moment and Spinner halted with a command. Still completely obedient, despite everything. “I needed the heart of this one, and you would hardly let me walk away after taking it. Willow, either, for all she adores them. You cannot be left to warn people of my survival.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Tlara glared incredulously. “Fuck, are you serious? I would have- I can heal this kind of damage! If you’d told me who you were before bashing your own daughter’s brains in, I might have listened and given you one of the damned things.”
Her mother’s head tilted to the side at that, although the claws didn’t retract. “You can regenerate the hearts? A renewable resource would be useful. I had assumed this creature had only one. Tlara, my dear, I think we can come to an understanding after all. But I will need another heart now, and I know there is one to claim. The life I would save with it is worth more than your monster, if taking a second would slay it. Spirited monsters are rare, but we could find you another with time. If your offer is true, will you command this creature to remain still? I would be willing to let you live, although I could not let you return to the city until my work is done.”
Sweet salvation. Tlara should have felt thrilled at that offer when death by an unkillable foe was the alternative. Spinner might survive another heart being removed, she wasn’t sure if it had two or three. And if it died, so what? Death versus being out one rare monster wasn’t a hard decision. It shouldn’t be.
Except Spinner had saved her when she’d been dominated. Kept her down when others went charging into the lake after the gestalt, as far as the stories she’d heard went. Moreso, if she was something more than just a monster, what would ordering her to her death mean for Tlara?
Everyone had lines they didn’t cross. Tlara didn’t kill people, not when she had a choice. The thought of having one completely under her control was never something she would go for. Not a murderer, not a slaver. Tlara wasn’t a monster, she just used them. Even if it were her prized wyvern here she would have made the trade in an instant. It was such an obviously good deal no one would pass up living for idealism. Except, this was Spinner. Different. She couldn’t deny it anymore.
Tlara sighed. Fuck me. I can’t. “No deal. Give me time to heal her and I can let you take the regrown heart. Hurt her anymore and you’ll fuck your supply.”
“Her? You mean?” Casia looked at Spinner, then laughed. “Tlara, you’re having a change of heart? You, who I never managed to get to bed at a proper time once you started walking?”
“How the fuck do you reminisce two minutes after trying to kill me?”
Casia shrugged. “It’s the world we live in. Reality. I thought you were someone who appreciated straightforwardness. This is your future here, Tlara. You cannot join us in eternal life. A goodbye is inevitable, and is too important for me to let go. Give up or I will take what I need and end you. You are going to die soon either way.”
“No.” Tlara clenched his hands. “Spinner’s mine, you fucking monster. You show up after being gone for years, aggro as fuck, punch Willow out, talk about destiny and all that crap and expect me to just roll over? I’ve got a class, bitch. Punches won’t kill you? Let’s try lightning. Elemental Overload.”
Another ability useless on a ringcat, the standard of comparison for no particular reason. Spinner was another who didn’t strongly benefit from the ability as she had no way to directly discharge the electrical surge Tlara had just summoned in her body without a set web. Except, once the fight had started, Spinner had started weaving one. If Tlara had seen anything so far, it was that Casia was not familiar with spin shockers. She probably hadn’t ever been to the Thormundz.
It was a poor web by spiders’ standards. No symmetry, merely tracing over where the giant monster had traveled during the duel. Either way, it’d carry the charge and jump to Casia. Her mother had been able to hold her own with some kind of protective power, but an area effect like this with magical damage behind it? This was the reason people took Beastmasters seriously.
The dune lit up, glassing the sand in direct contact with strands as if they were live wires. Spinner’s ability to control where the current went spared Tlara, and Willow still prone where the webs had first originated. Huh, did I tell her not to hit Willow? Tlara mused on that as the discharge fired. Powerful, with trade offs sure, but the amplification of the natural lightning attack meant it could be deployed without any buildup. The perfect sneak attack. The Beastmaster felt a little proud of her quick, tactical thinking where another would pale in the face of a supposedly unbeatable foe. She just hoped Casia was knocked out instead of killed, or else she’d catch all manner of trouble for killing-
“No. That’s, that’s not fucking fair!” Tlara screamed when the flash died. Casia had reappeared outside of the direct explosion, likely having escaped before taking any damage. What the fuck?
“Temper. That was always one of your weaknesses, though I’m ashamed to say it’s not your only one. It was a decent attempt however. Unfortunately for you, I am immune to most mortal powers. Also,” A claw pointed towards her. “I warned you, didn’t I? Not to alarm anyone. I’m ending this now.”
Casia charged her, two hands with claws outstretched. Horrified, Tlara ordered Spinner to defend her, and yet, too slow. Blood loss and the fact that there was catastrophic internal bleeding in the spot where a heart used to be was taking its toll. Her wyvern was taking too long to come out. Whether this thing was bullshitting on power immunity or not, Tlara didn’t know, but her only option left was-
“You think that can hurt me? Child, you know nothing.” Tlara put her hands up, one clutching a weapon. She was shit with anything but what else could she do? She was level 3! With disparity, but damn it, that meant something! It-
Oh. The robes felt coarse to her, what parts pressed against her skin. Like sandpaper under the feathers. Casia had gone through her guard like it was nothing and had simply speared her through the lower stomach. Wounds, Tlara had taken before. This was something else. It was cold and terrifying because despite having an entire hand jammed through her, she couldn’t feel anything for the shock. That’s not, no…
It was spite that moved her hand. Personal revelation aside, Tlara wasn’t about to hold back one last jab. There was no way she could miss. Casia held up another hand as if to cut across her neck, completely ignoring the attack as the point drove home. Then, Tlara heard her mother scream.
There was an immediate change. The person in front of her seemed more real, and the cloak she was wearing hardened as if washed with too much starch. Tlara could barely feel that the surface was more solid as she was tossed to the ground. Casia clutched at the dagger in her side only to recoil. Where the blade had pierced was burning, just as it did to the hand that had touched the hilt. After all, the person who had made the dagger had enchanted it as one solid piece.
“What, aaaAH”! Casia stumbled backward before Spinner knocked her aside. This time, the blow landed. The woman flew across the sand just like Tlara had first thought she would from the first attack. Part of her mother’s body seemed to crack as if she was a clay statue, cloak and all. It didn’t matter. It was too late now. Spinner sensed this too, not going after Casia but staying by Tlara as she died.
Another hand reached for the dagger as Casia tried to brave the pain enough to dislodge it, but she couldn’t bear it for more than a second. Her cries of pain were almost unbroken and so agonized it seemed like it was shredding her soul. So contrasted to emptiness flooding Tlara.
In the fading light, Tlara saw Casia reach her sister and use her hand to pull the dagger out. Damn it. Smart. The moment it was removed, Casia’s body returned to its original state and appeared to regain its lost vitality as nearby sand flowed toward it.
Casia held her chest as if she still had lungs that were being overworked. "You... very good, daughter. Unexpected." She inspected Willow on the ground before shaking her head. "It's not time yet. I'm sorry it came to this, I am. I'll let you know before you pass that I sincerely have a way to give your sister and your father immortality, as I have claimed." Tlara's eyes opened wide in horror as she got the implication. Her eyes went to the catastrophic wound in her lower stomach and Casia shook her head again. "It won't work on you. You have a class. I am sorry again, daughter. I would stay, but there is much to do. I wish that in your next life you find the peace you did not in this one." Casia then picked up the unconscious woman, looking once at Tlara, before coming to a decision.
She's running away. Afraid I have another dagger? Fuck, need to stop her from killing Willow. Tlara tried to move but her body disobeyed her. Endurance was a core attribute of Beastmasters, and yet Tlara had disparity to it. She had taken a mortal wound with an arm-sized hole in her lower stomach. Went through me like nothing. Damn.
Spinner crouched by her, eyes unnervingly meeting hers. What she feared seeing in them for so long seemed trivial now. It was actually funny. Spinner looked like she was concerned. She was the one missing a heart and, to put it bluntly, Tlara had fucked her over. Stolen her will. Who’d have known? That fucking Artificer was right.
Tlara kept living for a few seconds longer just so that wouldn’t be her last thought. It didn’t stop the blood from spreading into the sand. The webbing did, Spinner improvising better than Tlara would have. Never in a thousand years would she have thought to use the same substance that electrified enemies as a way to bind wounds. Her monster had in an instant, but it still wouldn’t be enough.
Don’t you fucking save me, Tlara thought, knowing Spinner wouldn’t hear it. I’m dead. Fucking dead. You’re not. People find you here, they’ll think you did this. Already wrapped me up like you’re going to eat me. Useless fucking thing. Can’t stop the bleeding inside. Can’t heal. She saw the hole again with her darkening vision. Oh. You’re hurt. Shit. Sorry, can’t help you now.
Tlara lay unmoving, eyes looking towards the sky until she could see no more. Hear no more, breaths coming only once every so often. Even anger fled her until she was just left with disbelief that this was happening. Anguish, in parts, in that she didn’t fully know what had happened. Didn’t know what would happen to her sister. And-
One of the built up advancement potential that had been sitting idle since defeating the lightning dragon flared as it was absorbed into her, nudging an attribute up just a little. Awakening something. Spontaneous advancement.
This could rarely happen, especially to those with multiple saved advancement potential. Thomas had mistaken Daniel’s awakening of Regeneration for this phenomenon when they’d first met. When you got down to it, all advancing was was enhanced focus on an aspect of yourself while in a heightened state of concentration. The clarity of approaching death could free the mind of many distractions. Tlara thought of her past. Her mistakes, few they seemed to her, but she would admit to some of them now. How her life had gone, and how small it seemed in hindsight.
Not the kind of thing that would improve endurance, but it counted for something else. In the smallest of ways, Tlara felt something shake loose. Then, a terror beyond mortality came with the understanding of her new power. She would have screamed if she could because she did not want what was coming next. Had she the choice Tlara would have ended herself rather than use it.
But she didn’t have a choice. Neither could she prevent her heart from stopping.