Lyria
One Minute Earlier
My sword barely penetrated the thick, wood-like skin of the Eclipsed. I wished any of us had larger weapons, like axes or greatswords. Instead, it felt as though we were trying to cut through a tree with knives. Even my Basilisk’s Gaze ability was instantly resisted by the Eclipsed, having no effect whatsoever.
Sylara, Zahra, and Ramzi were all heavily wounded and on the ground. Thorn was beside Sylara, face grim. It seemed as though he was prepared to die by her side instead of continuing to hack at this thing with me.
Dammit. I couldn’t even blame him. The power of this thing was nearly overwhelming, and it seemed as though it was barely paying attention to us.
It was only me and the Forge Echo of Brynn’s Cursed Bedroll, which was waddling toward another root, just like the actual bedroll. The damn things were frustratingly slow, though.
The Eclipsed alternated between eerily going motionless, clutching its head to scream, or suddenly pointing its arm and firing off terrible attacks. For now, it was motionless, and I was fruitlessly trying to do enough damage to slow it down.
I hacked at the same spot again and again, small splinters of black wood flying away along with the rhythmic thwack thwack thwack of iron against wood. I was exhausted, my arm already numb from the repeated strikes. But maybe if I just cut a little deeper…
The Eclipsed lurched into motion, making my stomach drop. One arm snapped upward as it lifted a single, long finger to point at Brynn. I threw all my weight behind my shield, trying to knock the arm off course, but it didn’t budge.
I slid my eyes to the side to see Brynn raising glowing blue Mana Shields as he tried to dodge, but tendrils of wood punched toward him from every direction. He didn’t even seem to have time to use his Abyssal Step ability because the attack came so quickly.
Brynn let out a strangled shout of pain as the roots glowed purple and lifted him several feet off the ground.
“Brynn!” I shouted.
His body was shaken as he thrashed against the roots, which were pulsing like bulging veins, pumping something into his body.
I sprinted toward him, unable to move fast enough as his eyes slammed open and filled with purple light.
Oh gods. Is that dark mana?
From the corner of my eye, I saw the Forge Echo of his bedroll wink out in a puff of magical smoke.
Brynn’s mouth closed, and his face slowly turned to face me, features suddenly drawn, as if in anger. I skidded to a stop. Frowning. “Brynn?” I asked.
“Time to die!” he shouted in a voice that wasn’t his own. It was inhuman and bestial, almost too deep and emotionless to be real. He lifted his arms, palms open and facing me as if—
A pure bar of purple-green light erupted from his hand with a booming thoom sound. His entire arm kicked back from the force of the attack, yanking the beam upward to slice a section of the chamber’s roof open.
Dust and debris rained down as Brynn clutched his wrist with his free hand, steadying the attack and dragging the deadly beam downward, eyes locked on me with sinister intent.
The magic was so bright it burned an afterimage in my eyes, nearly blinding me. I threw myself down to the ground as he pulled the bar of deadly magic in a horizontal line. If I hadn’t ducked, I would’ve been sliced in half at the waist.
Instead, the roaring heat passed over my boddy, filling the air with the stench of poison and corruption.
I crawled forward, glancing back to see the attack had carved the top portion of the dead dungeon boss’ infant-like head off, leaving a glowing green edge of seared flesh that slowly crept downward as if the corpse was melting.
Gods. What incredible power is that? It almost looked like Viperlilly Poison and his Elemental Projection ability, but if it had been amplified a hundreds times over in potency.
The magic attack sputtered like a flame in the wind, finally winking and leaving the chamber in relative darkness.
My ears were ringing from the deep, rumbling roar the spell had released.
I got to my feet and started running toward him again. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but he could kill us all if I didn’t find a way to pull him out of there. We also had no chance against the Eclipsed unless I could snap Brynn out of whatever this was.
Brynn’s palm slowly swiveled toward me, but his free hand pulled at it as his whole body twitched. He blinked rapidly, eyes temporarily turning green and then purple again. He shook his head, mouth twisted in frustration.
Some part of him is still in there.
“Brynn!” I shouted. “We need you!”
His body was pierced through with dozens of magically-infused roots. They creaked, yanking his body toward me in a disconcerting lurch of motion. He stopped only inches from me, vacant eyes fixed in my direction. “Thank you… Krete… Your services will no longer… be… required...” There was a strange twist to Brynn’s lips as he spoke and an inflection in his voice that wasn’t right.
Brynn seemed to be speaking to the Eclipsed behind me, who had been motionless since the attack.
Krete? Was that who that thing used to be?
Brynn lifted both hands, and a figure wearing full plate armor made of black crystals appeared. It wore a cape like midnight and held a greatsword coursing with green magic. The figure tilted its head at me, swirled its sword in a dangerous flurry, and rushed to attack.
Oh Gods. It’s his Forge Echo ability, only—
“Thorn!” I shouted, desperately hoping the man wasn’t completely checked out of the fight.
The Dark Echo leapt toward me, sword pulled back to strike.
Before the Dark Echo could reach me, something sharp bit into my side, making me cry out in pain. I was yanked away hard enough to make me feel nauseous. A moment later, the Dark Echo’s blade slammed into the ground with enough force to make me stumble.
I looked at my side and saw one of Thorn’s hooks detaching itself from my skin, leaving a bloody wound. “Sorry,” he said, eyes fixed on the Dark Echo.
In one direction, Brynn’s body floated, pierced through with roots. The dark magic knight stalked toward us, its huge sword dragging in the dirt. In the other direction, the Eclipse still stood motionless. At any moment, it could decide to launch another attack. It could overcome its madness and fully unleash its power on us.
We’re screwed.
We’re all going to die.
Brynn was rising higher into the air as the roots lifted him. Purple energy drifted from him like mist.
Then I remembered his cursed bedroll. It was still slowly rolling itself toward another root with its weird leather straps.
I had watched it eat those roots. That meant it had the power to damage this stuff, right?
There was no time to second-guess myself. It was the only hope we had, so I ran. I saw Brynn aiming another attack at me and skidded into a slide on my thigh, barely ducking a purple and red bar of fiery magic.
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Intense heat washed over me, blistering the skin on my back as I crawled away from the attack and pulled myself forward. I never took my eyes off the bedroll, which was slowly waddling toward another root, oblivious to the chaos around it.
I scrambled back to my feet and broke into a run. Before I could reach the bedroll, Brynn summoned a spiked Mana Shield in front of me. I tried to stop, but only managed to throw myself to the side slightly and avoid being impaled through the chest. One of the spikes drove straight through my shoulder instead.
Cold, bitter pain erupted. I lurched forward, hands pressing against the magic shield as I pried myself off the spike, trying my best to ignore the fiery agony.
I pulled myself free and my Venting Wounds ability triggered just as the wall began to bend, as if preparing to wrap me in a spikey hug.
A sudden air jet gushed from my shoulder, blowing the spiked shield away to slam against a distant wall and shatter like glass.
I ran, stumbling toward the bedroll as my shoulder continued to spray pressurized air, halfway pushing me back with the force of the magic. Annoyed, I tried to will it to stop, and to my relief, it did.
Behind me, Thorn clashed with the Dark Echo, but I doubted he could hold it long. It was too fast and deadly.
I had to duck and slide beneath another spiked Mana Shield Brynn rose in front of me, dive away from another bar of pure magic, and then weave around a sudden cloud that formed overhead and began firing bolts of green energy down at blinding speeds, leaving hissing craters in the dirt.
The dungeon chamber was quickly becoming hell-like with the scars left by Brynn’s deadly magic carving burning channels in the dirt, the craters left by his cloud spell, and the malicious presence of the dark knight trying to cut us down. The smells of ozone, poison, and smoke filled the air.
I yanked up Brynn’s cursed bedroll with a half-formed plan in mind. I had seen this thing eat dark mana and knew what its description said it could do for Brynn. So maybe…
I saw the entire party was on the ground now, motionless and badly wounded. Thorn was clutching his stomach, which was sliced open and bleeding hard.
The Dark Echo was rushing toward me, greatsword drawn and ready to strike.
I ran with the bedroll tucked uner my arm, doing my best to ignore the pain in my shoulder. The Dark Echo put itself between me and Brynn, sword raised high. Just before it could strike, I used the last scraps of my mana to fire a heavy Gust at the Dark Echo. The jet of wind caught it on the right side of its hip, ragdolling it almost ten feet backward as it spun and slammed down with a clatter of armor.
Brynn was close now, face devoid of emotion as he raised a hand toward me and the bedroll I was clutching in both hands.
“Come on, you creepy little thing,” I managed. “Help him!” I threw the bedroll at Brynn, trying not to think about the trail of bugs falling off it as it flew toward him.
The bedroll opened its “mouth” in the air and landed on Brynn’s head, completely swallowing up his horns and face as it bit down.
#
Brynn
I was working on a plan when Lyria threw the bedroll on my head. It hurt. Badly. I may not have been able to control my body with much success, but I could still feel everything—just like I could feel the horror at what I had been watching myself do. Lyria was the only one still standing. Thankfully, I could distantly sense that nobody was dead, though some of them were dangerously close to it.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my body to send mana out and heal them.
The cursed Bedroll was gnawing on my head, completely shrouding my vision. I could feel all of the small, hidden teeth from beneath its fabric punching into the skin around my neck as it chewed on me like a dog with a toy. Each tooth felt as though it was sucking something from me with every fresh bite.
The roots were still pumping dark mana into me, but I realized each bite from the bed was also siphoning some of the dark mana out of me. After a few moments, I noticed I had regained some control, though whatever had taken me was still dominant.
Maybe it was enough.
I relied on my intuitive understanding of mana manipulation, trying to clear my mind and explore my options.
Just like regular mana, the dark mana was like fuel. It wanted to be spent. To be channeled. Regular mana moved through my class corestones every time I used a spell, gathering and condensing there with time, ready to be called upon when needed. Meditation was essentially the art of drawing mana in, and the mana always wanted to be inside my corestones.
The corestones acted like foci and reservoirs for mana. The realization seemed obvious, but it wasn’t something I had fully comprehended before now. In fact, hadn’t my mana stores increased ever since I bound to the Heart corestone? Was each stone drawing on a separate mana source, or were they able to trade mana between themselves, effectively doubling my maximum supply? No. It must have doubled my maximum supply, or I was certain I would’ve noticed by now.
I forced the questions from my mind. I may not understand the mechanics of it, the dark mana was clearly a problem. It was flooding my body, running through my mana channels freely and somehow turning me into a passenger in my own head.
Even now, I could feel what little control the bedroll had given me slipping. I needed to do something. Fast.
I didn’t have the control to vent the dark mana outside my body, so the only other option was trying to contain it within my body.
It was either that, or let this thing take control of me again, maybe for the final time.
I followed my intuition, opening a sort of door in my corestones I hadn’t discovered before. The open door acted like an invitation for the dark mana, which gladly rushed in. Only it didn’t fill my corestones the way regular mana did. It filled the walls of my corestones, sinking in like water through porous material. The walls of my cores drank up the mana gladly, filling with obsene quantities.
The process was painful, nearly blinding me to reason as white-hot agony rushed through every inch of my body. But through the terrible pain, I could feel the dark mana clearing from my body as it was sucked inward to my cores.
Finally, the cursed bedroll slid off my head, smacked its “lips” a few times, and began waddling toward the nearest root again.
The places where the roots had stabbed me burned hot, steaming and crinkling as if cooking and blackening from the inside out.
One by one, they crumbled, falling apart. When the last root broke, I fell to a heap on the ground. Cautiously, I tested my limbs, finding I could control my body again.
My corestones kept drawing in dark mana until none of it was left to float around in my body freely. I could feel it still, hidden in the walls of my corestones and waiting like a dangerous animal. It felt… caged, but I wasn’t certain I knew how to keep the cage locked.
I tried to stand, but I swayed, nearly falling before Lyria caught me.
“You’re back?” she asked, eyes searching mine. She was covered in sweat, dark red hair clinging to her pale face. Her hands were shaking as she clutched my arms, making me feel pangs of guilt. I saw the others down and gravely wounded and knew what she had been through to save me—to keep her hope alive despite the hell she just went through.
“Thanks,” I managed. Half of my mind was still trying to process what the hell had happened and was still happening to me. Would even my cursed bedroll be able to fix this? “You saved my ass,” I said, forcing an expression of calm I didn’t feel. I didn’t need her worrying about whatever was going on inside me.
I scanned Lyria for injuries, realized she had no mana left to use Devour Mana, and instead pressed a Healing Potion into her hands. “Drink.”
“You first,” she said, pushing the potion toward my mouth. “You still need to handle that Eclipsed.”
The Eclipsed was looming behind Lyria, motionless as a statue, but full of deadly potential. I could sense that something inside it had changed. Was it the words I said to it when I was possessed? What had I called it again? Krete?
I didn’t have much mana left, so I pulled out a Silver Scream arrow full of Healing Potion and slammed it into my thigh. “I’m good,” I said, gently pushing away her help as I left her with the potion and started limping toward the Eclipsed.
I ignored the faint, pulsing notification of an accomplishment from my helmet, locking my eyes on the Eclipsed. I also ignored the concerning sense of wrongness around and within my cores. I had let something I didn’t understand inside them. Whatever it was had been malicious and crazed, ready to murder every living thing in the room.
I could borrow its power to put down this Eclipsed, and then I’d find a way to cleanse it. I hoped.
The Eclipsed didn’t move or react to my approach in the slightest, but I still felt a gathering of power. A readiness.
The Eclipsed knew I was coming, and I realized it was only pretending to slumber.
Its head stayed still as I circled closer, but I saw its purple eyes drifting to the side, tracking my every movement.
The strange power of the dark mana pulsed from the walls of my corestones, practically begging to be released. To be used.
I found myself wanting to use it. I wasn’t in control when those roots were in me, but I felt everything. I knew how to use the power. It had been intoxicating, and this Eclipsed had nearly killed all of us. I wanted to show it what a mistake that had been. Unfortunately for “Krete,” I now had the tools to do exactly that.
I smiled with a touch of bloodthirst. “Time to fucking end this,” I said through my teeth.