Red silenced the entire chamber for a good five seconds before almost every able body within reach dropped everything and went after him. The boy laughed before leaping from Bessie's saddle and slamming into the mass of opponents, breaking spears and bones, throwing guards into each other, kicking them away by the half dozen with sweeping legs.
Malcolm watched it happen and sighed. It was just like that guy to make some grand entrance, he thought, though a small smile did play on his lips.
At least it did until Alexander swept into view, the minotaur being the only person who hadn't even bothered to glance back at the commotion by the entrance.
"Run, Malcolm!" Clover shouted, tossing down some seeds.
She clapped and a wall of brambles grew between him and the coming Alexander. They were thick and numerous, enough to trap a nearby guard and a pair of raccoons in their mesh of thorns by complete accident.
Alexander, of course, brushed them aside with one wave of his arm, bending the barrier like clay.
"You're not getting away from me!" the minotaur said.
"Great," Malcolm said, having only managed a few steps back.
They both clapped their hands at the same time. Alexander surged forward, splitting through the space between them like a big hunk of lightning. Meanwhile, Malcolm set his lighter hand under his lips and blew a stream of fire that lit up the whole chamber.
Alexander crashed into the fire and rushed right through it without any resistance whatsoever. Eyes wide, Malcolm cut off his Trick and raised his arms, crossing them over his chest just before the minotaur's thick arm encompassed his torso in a lariat, crashing into the boy's block with a gunshot smack.
This was the third time in so many days that Malcolm's fire had proved entirely ineffective against an enemy. All Malcolm could think at that moment, feeling himself rise into the air and fly over the heads of several others, was that this kind of bad luck had to stop making sense after a certain point.
Clover and Daphne beside her watched the bespectacled boy be sent off. They watched too as Alexander didn't waste a breath before following up with his assault, going after Malcolm without so much as a glance their way.
"We have to help him," Clover said, too stunned to sound forceful.
She started toward Malcolm's direction, and Daphne made to protest—they really didn't have any more time to waste down here—but just then the ground under them seemed to surge. Orange sap flowed up at them, hardening into needled spikes.
"Watch out!" Daphne said, tackling her daughter aside.
They landed roughly, turning to see the spikes shoot up where they'd been standing, rising several feet and remaining like a tinted glass statue. Looking up, they saw the culprit, though it didn't exactly come as a surprise.
Jahdiel swaggered forward, an amber spear spinning in his hand, taking pleasure in staring down at them over his narrow nose. At either side he was flanked by two Changelings, a bearwoman and a leopardman who stood furred and muscular and stood almost half a body taller than the elf who led them.
"I've been waiting some time for this," Jahdiel said. With one last spin, he pointed his spear down at the Head Scout and her daughter. "Well? Get up. You should make it at least a little fun for me."
Daphne and Clover both now looked up at something else, however. The leopardman beside Jahdiel found that out when he felt a tap on his arm and, looking down, saw Red's peppy face smiling up at him.
"Yo," the boy said, waving.
Then, almost casually, he grabbed the leoparman's arm and, with a wide stance and a harsh tug, lifted the Changeling up over his head.
Jahdiel, startled, flinched back and saw the leoparman get spun around in the air like a lasso. Once, twice, and at the third spin the whole bulk of the Changeling's body came right at him, crashing into the elf with the force of a homerun bat. The elf flew a short distance, and the moment he landed Jahdiel found himself surrounded by other Scouts, all more than happy to deal with the new enemy that had so conveniently dropped on their laps.
Heaving, Red now tossed the leopardman in a hammer throw, sending the Changeling away to land among another group of guards locked in combat against a squad of animals.
"So long!" he said, stomping once to stop himself from spinning from the momentum. Hands coming to his hips, Red looked over at the remaining bearwoman, who'd looked on at the proceedings with muted horror. "So... you're next?"
The bearwoman looked at him, then at Daphne and Clover, then back at Red. The boy raised a brow, and she took one step back. "I'll... I'll go fight someone else," she said. Another step back. Then another, and with one last glance she turned tail and ran.
Red pouted while Daphne and Clover got to their feet.
"Thanks for the save," Clover said, sighing.
Shrugging, Red waved her off. "Don't worry about it. I've been meaning to teach that elf guy a lesson."
Daphne stared at his nonchalance. "You're pretty scary for a kid," she finally said, making Red grin.
Now came Bessie, Dimple riding atop her. Spears and clubs riddled the snail's body, not stabbed in but stuck sideways on its surface like 3D stickers. No one who had taken a swing at her had been able to pull their weapons back, her greenish mucus too thick, and in that way it had served to defend her. It was Dimple who showed some marks of their advance, sporting a few scratches on his furred legs.
"I told you not to run off like that!" Dimple said, shaking in his seat.
"What?" Red said. "We got here fine."
"Speak for yourself!" The minotaur put a hand over his hurrying heart. "I almost died like twenty times!"
People around them started to take notice of the small, unengaged group. Guards and angry Greenkin started prowling around them, weapons raised, and instinctively Red, Daphne, and Clover slowly arranged themselves in a circle, backs to the mewing Bessie.
"You guys know where Harmony is or what?" Red asked, staring down the guards in front of them.
"Yes," Daphne said. One of the guards stabbed, and her hand snaked out to catch his spear by the shaft. She pulled, brought the guard close, and punched him hard on the nose. "But getting there means getting through this mess."
"Eh, I can do that easy," Red said. A beastman came at him and one good kick sent the guy tumbling, bent over hard enough to be near broken in half. "Just point me in a direction."
"The pavilion," Daphne said. "As far as we know, Harmony's waiting there."
"Sweet." Red looked back at Dimple. "Waddaya say, Bull Boy? Ready to finish our tour?"
Dimple didn't respond, too busy looking over their heads at Malcolm and Alexander engaged nearby.
The latter swung, rushed, and kicked in a flurry of rage while the former repeatedly dived for his life. Constantly their battle would crash right into other fights, and Alexander would almost thoughtlessly take a swipe at friend and foe alike for getting in the way. More than a few Scouts and guards were left groaning on the floor in their wake.
Scowling, Red turned around to face Bessie, accidentally avoiding a guard's swinging club. The guard stumbled at the sudden lack of contact, and Daphne took the chance to grab his head and drive it into her knee.
"Hey!" Red said, reaching up to snap his fingers at Dimple. "You good? C'mon, we don't have all day here."
Eyes coming into focus, Dimple looked down at him. "I... I'm staying."
"... What."
Dimple nodded to himself and, foot sweeping over Bessie's head, slid down off the saddle. "Sorry, but there's still something I have to tell my uncle."
"That's nice and all, but I kinda need you for the plan, remember?" Red waved at Bessie. "Not like I know how to ride this thing."
"You don't, but I do," Daphne said. She kept her eyes on the guards surrounding them, all of whom had grown rather hesitant—any attempt to attack had ended in failure, and plenty of them sported purple eyes or broken teeth to prove it. "This plan of yours. Will it work?"
Red scratched his head. "Yeah... Eighty percent sure." The woman sent him a quick look. "Seventy percent. Sixty? Hrm... Forty-five."
"Why does it keep going down?!"
Red shrugged—clearly he needed no assurance himself. Daphne grunted and glanced over at Clover, seeing the girl clap her hands and make a tangle of vines bloom between three enemies, tying them all up at once.
"How much should I trust this boy?" Daphne asked.
Clover frowned in thought. "Apparently he survived Harmony once already," she said, pulling more seeds out of her pocket. "It's about as good a bet as any."
That was true enough, Daphne thought. Not like they had any perfect options at the moment. Before she could make herself back out, Daphne stepped back and leaped gracefully onto Bessie's saddle. "Hop on, then," she said, pulling the reins close. "You can tell me the details on the way."
"And you," Clover said, glancing at Dimple, "stay close to me. I'll make up for you saving our butts yesterday."
Dimple gulped and stared at the guards surrounding them, all of whom now stared back at him with brows either furrowed in deep resentment or raised in sadistic expectation. Some muttered 'traitor,' glancing around at each other, nudging with their elbows and gesturing to the minotaur.
"Yeah, p-please make it up to me," Dimple said, sidling over to stand behind the Scout girl. "I like staying alive."
Red cracked his knuckles, grinning wide at the guards, most of whom now took a shaky step back. "I'll move these guys," he said to Daphne. "You ride in behind me."
Daphne nodded. She turned to Clover, and for a moment her brow creased with worry. "Will you be fine?" she asked softly.
"Of course," Clover said, unable to turn. "I’m your daughter, aren’t I?"
A small smile played on Daphne’s lips. She still looked worried, but Red chose now to start carving a path for them, tossing and punching guards out of the way, and Daphne had to follow close for it to mean anything. She whipped the reins, using that and a nudge with her Trick to get Bessie moving.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Clover would have liked to see them go, but the guards around her did a good job of stealing all her attention. One took a swipe at Dimple, and the satyr flinched back with a yelp just in time to avoid the passing club. It whooshed through empty air, leaving the guard open, and Clover took the opportunity to kick him hard right between his furry legs.
The other guards all grimaced at that, lips drawn to share an "ooooh" of instinctual sympathy as the victim crumbled into himself and onto the floor. Clover glared at them, silently daring them to step forward, and the sight of their comrade bent pathetically over in front of her was enough to make them hesitate if only briefly.
Not that any of this mattered, as Alexander chose that moment to slide right into the guards, knocking them all aside like a row of bowling pins. The blue-clad Greenkin fell back hard or found themselves flying into the air with their breath knocked thoroughly out of their lungs.
Clover barely avoided the tackle herself, partially because she managed to draw herself and Dimple off its path just in time and partially because Alexander stopped cold just before he hit her. The massive minotaur heaved, bare torso bursting with flexing muscle, looming like a giant over Clover even as he bent forward, one hand on the floor.
Inside that hand was Malcolm, the cage of fingers trapping his torso against the ground. The boy's glasses were cracked, black hair a tangled nest, and his sharp features—so often stern and subdued despite the circumstances—now pinched around a nose flared in pain.
Alexander's bull face split into a savage grin as he leaned down and huffed right into Malcolm's face. "I have you now, you little rat!"
Malcolm squirmed, neck tensing and legs kicking up as he tried to push Alexander's hand off, but the minotaur resisted him easily. Grin widening, Alexander then flexed his hand, closing it slowly around the boy, whose strength wilted and turned into a single long scream.
Eyes wide, Clover made to stop Alexander before he could crush Malcolm dead, but before she could step forward Dimple ran out from behind her.
The smaller minotaur ran to his uncle, hands coming to rest on the arm that held Malcolm down. He pulled at it, trying to shove it off the poor boy, but this too failed.
Still, Dimple's sudden intrusion did manage to shock Alexander out of his manic glee, and his beady eyes seemed to come out of a dark haze. His grip slackened, and Malcolm felt his chest rise at the lack of weight. He breathed deep, blinking against the black spots that now filled his vision, fighting against the lightness of his head. Though Alexander still held him down, at least his bones no longer creaked and strained against each other.
But it wouldn't be long until Alexander finished the job. Malcolm slowed his breath and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the leftover pain of the squeeze. He couldn't clap his hands, held down as they were against his sides, but he could feel his Spirit just fine. He'd done this Trick more times than he could count. It was time to take the training wheels off.
Come on, Malcolm thought, struggling with the malleable brightness within. It slipped and passed through itself, almost impossible to catch, but if he concentrated enough he could almost feel it tighten, build itself, and become something real.
As for Alexander, he blinked down at his nephew, the trapped Ranger nearly forgotten. "Joseph?" he asked. Then, his voice grew sharp and loud. "What in the world are you doing here, boy?!"
"I'm here to stop you, uncle!" Dimple said, still pushing fruitlessly against Alexander's arm. "To bring you back to your senses!"
"I am well within them, you fool!" Alexander glared down at the younger minotaur. "Step aside now, or I'll move you aside!"
His uncle's anger, only barely contained but pitted squarely against him, was almost enough to scare Dimple off. Almost. But one shaky intake of breath gave him the courage—or, at least, the recklessness—to meet that anger directly with his own panicked face. "You'll end up regretting this!"
"Oh please," Alexander snarled, then spat on the ground. "Once this is all over I'll sleep soundly, boy, don't you worry about that. Enemies are meant to be eliminated. Fights are meant to be won. I do not care how many will die, nephew! Justice is more important than your soft feelings!"
"It isn't about my feelings, uncle!" Dimple stopped pushing, now turning to face Alexander fully. He craned his neck up, leaning as close as he could toward the other minotaur, legs stretched as tall as they could go. "You're starting a war, can't you see that? Even if you were right about everything, all this will do is make the humans want to destroy us even more! They'll come for you and everyone else here, and then they'll come for Greenkin all over the world!"
"Warriors cannot be ruled by fear!"
"You said you would fight so people like me wouldn't have to!" Dimple held his arms out. "Look at me now! Look around you! All you've done is make everyone want to fight!"
Clover stood back and watched the exchange, afraid that any involvement from her would remind Alexander that he still hadn't crushed Malcolm. But she saw movement from the corner of her eye, and as soon as she turned to see what it was she had to duck under an amber edge. An instant later she saw a foot come up to kick at her face, and she just about managed to throw a hand up to block it.
Another amber swing came at her, so Clover leaped back. Letting out a breath, she saw Jahdiel with a raised amber blade, his eyes burning with irritation. The elf certainly looked worse for wear, his blue toga half-torn, long hair undone and falling wildly over his shoulders.
Blade pointed at Clover, Jahdiel glanced over at Alexander. "Councilman, Daphne and that intruder left the chamber. I suggest we go detain them before they reach the director."
Alexander kept his frown on Dimple. "Harmony can take care of two humans," he said, almost growling.
"I do not doubt it," Jahdiel said. His eyes followed Alexander's and now Dimple found himself pinned by two deadly gazes. "I only suggest that we do not grow complacent."
Huffing, Alexander made to respond, but then his hand felt... warm? Hot. Searing.
Looking down, he saw his hand covered in sweat, steam blowing from between his fingers, and Malcolm glowing red in his grip. Alexander grit his teeth and squeezed, trying to turn the boy into pulp as soon as possible, but his hand burned and started blackening and despite himself he had to let go with a sharp gasp.
Malcolm snapped to his feet, steam flowing thick from his skin as he stood warily alongside Clover. They both settled into loose stances, eyes set on Jahdiel and Alexander.
"I didn't know you had that one mastered," Clover said, voice low.
"I didn't," Malcolm mumbled. "But being about to die is a pretty good incentive."
Alexander straightened, looming all the taller over the rest, and looked over his burned hand. The whole palm was black and swollen; he could barely feel it. Grunting, he nevertheless forced his fingers to tighten into a fist.
Dimple reached for it, mouth hung open, but Alexander used his good hand to push the younger minotaur away. "Find some corner to cower in."
Stumbling back, Dimple looked at all of them—his uncle, Jahdiel, Clover, Malcolm. Then he looked at all the humans and Greenkin still fighting all around them. The scrawny minotaur stood there unsure, almost paralyzed, but now Alexander glared hard at Malcolm and the message was clear: you aren't a priority anymore.
Clover saw this, and a part of her wept at the hopelessness she saw on Dimple's face. But facing two of the most dangerous Greenkin in the room gave her more important problems.
Malcolm stopped steaming with a great exhale of air, sweat drenching his forehead. Still, his hands were free, and he brought them together in clear preparation.
That made Clover smile, even if it came out strained. "If you want to reach my mom," Clover said, looking at the glaring enemies before them, "you'll have to get through us."
Jahdiel twirled his amber blade. "It will be a pleasure."
- - - — MKII — - - -
They found Harmony in the pavilion. Riding in on Bessie, Red and Daphne saw the fairy's lithe figure near the room's center, gazing up at Halcyon's glowing head. The great flower's white petals shone against the light of endless fireflies and its own radioactive green nectar, casting the rest of the gigantic space in an ethereal light that cast deep shadows behind the circular rows of tables.
At first, Harmony didn't seem to notice their entrance. Then, slowly and deliberately, the fairy turned their head, eyes coming to rest on the humans with expressionless expectation. Bessie got a second of attention, Daphne a few more, but it was Red who captured Harmony's full and inescapable gaze.
"You," they said. The word was said simply and frankly, but behind its straightforward lack of inflection there was the barest amount of surprise.
Smirking, he planted a foot on Bessie's saddle and leaped off the snail. Red flew two dozen yards before landing on a kneel far ahead.
"Me," he responded, making sure to express as much smug satisfaction as he could.
"I knew someone must surely come," Harmony said. Hands behind their back, they turned to face Red fully, "An Enforcer, or a passing Ranger. Daphne, if she managed to get through our security." Here the fairy nodded toward the Head Scout, who kept her seat on Bessie and looked back with a stern face. It was a quick look, one which returned to Red as soon as it had left him. "But you... I thought I had already killed you."
Red shrugged, hands held out dramatically. As casually as he could, he started walking to his left, keeping Harmony in his sight as he tried to round them. "What can I say? I die hard."
"Evidently." Harmony kept their place beside Halcyon, though they followed Red's movement closely. "Though you still bear the marks of our last encounter."
Looking down at himself, Red had to admit he wasn't exactly looking great. Covered in bandages and caked blood, he might as well have risen from the grave.
"It's not that bad," he lied, feeling the bruises very well. "But you shouldn't be talking about looks, y'know? I'm not the only one here rockin' a different style."
Now it was Harmony's turn to look down and examine themselves. Their hair, once yellow, now fell in a purple wave that matched equally purpled eyes.
But most striking were the black scars that covered their once pristinely white body. Before, they'd been mostly massed around their torso and back, wrapping vaguely around their arms in thick strings. Now, those scars had grown to encompass almost everything, and what was once pale ivory marked with inky streaks now looked more like a deep pool of darkness spotted with rare white lines.
"The results of greater power," Harmony explained. Their hand came up to tap at the thorny crown stuck to their head. "Some changes are to be expected from a Talisman like this."
Red now found himself a good distance away from the room's entrance, and just as he had wanted it, Harmony's attention was thoroughly on him. He glanced quickly at Daphne, catching her sharp nod. It could work, she'd said, sounding less than certain. All he needed to do now was live up to those hopes, dubious as they were.
"Plotting something?" Harmony said and Red's eyes snapped back to them. "Surely, you would not return without some kind of tactic."
Red held up a fist. "The only tactic I need is right here, baby."
"I doubt that." Harmony now looked at Daphne sitting tersely atop Bessie. "Daphne, you are no fool, at least. The two of you alone have little chance here, and you know it."
"Maybe you're right," Daphne said. Her voice wasn't loud, but in the empty pavilion the sound echoed fine above the firefly buzz. "But it isn't just the two of us alone."
Harmony cocked their head, trying to decipher the riddle—she could only see them two there, unless they happened to have some other allies in wait outside. But the fairy only had a second to think it through before Red made his move.
Running up to them, Red crossed the distance in a moment and swung a punch. It didn't hit—Harmony easily slid out of the way—but then again it wasn't meant to hit them.
Right now, Harmony wouldn't take him seriously. Red knew this because he hadn't taken any of the goons below seriously, something that came from the certainty of his power over them. Harmony had beaten him fair and square already, so in the fairy's mind he was likely as solved a problem for them as those goons had been for him.
Red needed their undivided attention to put the plan into action. He wouldn't get it as a threat because, as far as Harmony was concerned, he wasn't one. So he would need to get it the other way—that was, irrational emotion. A hard thing to get from someone who Red had as of yet seen holding exactly one expression at all times.
But there was a way to piss off everyone, even a living statue like Harmony. After all, no one liked having their toys get broken.
That's just how Red thought of it when, as Harmony slid out of the way, he followed through with his punch and slammed it right into Halcyon's stem. His knuckles sheared right through the green pillar, breaking off a chunk that flew out and bounced wetly on the ground. It wasn't enough to cut through the thing, and though Halcyon shook and bent with the force of the blow, it remained standing.
Yet that one broken piece was what Harmony stared at. The fairy watched it land, watched it stick to the floor, watched it sit dead and solitary like a giant gooey pebble.
The room's silence grew heavy, so that even the fireflies seemed to stop buzzing. The air, usually wafting with a sweet breeze, seemed to pause into pure stillness. Even Daphne, having told Red this would work, had a hand covering her lips in a silent gasp.
Harmony stared at the broken piece of Halcyon's stem. Then, in a horrifying moment, Red saw the fairy's obsidian face shift. Their nonexpression was carved up by unnatural lines. Their brow shifted with their lips. Something in their purple eyes sparked and burned.
When Harmony looked up at Red, the full force of their rage slammed into him so violently that he almost fell over. He took one step back, then two, and all the while Harmony sheared at his soul, murdered him with a gaze that seemed infinite in its capacity for retribution.
"You," Harmony said, voice icy enough to sweep Red's skin cold, "are going to pay for that."
Red looked to Daphne again, and this time when she nodded it came with much more difficulty. He set his jaw, hands coming up as fists, and despite everything tried to smile back at the fairy he knew would do everything in their power to kill him. He would pay alright. Hopefully, it was a price he could afford.