As the dark elf's head fell to the ground, Kathren suddenly felt twenty pounds lighter. It was like she had been at the bottom of a pond, and the water was pressing in on her from all sides, and from one breath to the next, the weight she didn't even know was there vanished.
Though she might not have known she was under pressure, she instantly noticed the difference between it being there and gone. Kathren's thoughts sharpened as if she had been trapped in a mental fog, and now it was parting, which was a problem.
The problem was simple, and most children made a game out of it at some point. Stick your arms out to the side and have someone push down on you while you hold them in place for a few minutes. When you suddenly stop and try to lower your arms, they will keep trying to rise on their own for a few more moments.
Whatever the reason for it, it was mildly entertaining as a child. That was not so much the case when she was an adult and in the middle of a battle.
Kathren might not have consciously known the pressure was suppressing her, but her mind and psy had been fighting against it the whole time. So when it suddenly vanished, there was a breath of relief as she could finally think freely. Then her psy continued to expand out of her control until it felt like it was beating against the walls of her skull.
The world before her twisted like it was flowing down a drain and narrowed to a point as her heart pounded in her head, and Kathren struggled to stay conscious as the world rocked back and forth… Or maybe that was her. Anyway, Kathren was sure she would rather be kicked in the head than experience this again, as that would have less of an effect.
A familiar voice broke through her confusion like a splash of cold water, "Attack while they are disorientated!" The words echoed in her mind, bouncing around until all that mattered was how to accomplish the command.
Kathren felt her eyes focus on the black creatures a couple of feet in front of her, their eyes glazed over as they swayed in place. She knew that they were her enemies and that, in a few moments, they would regain their wits and attack.
With a flex of her will, she stopped her tendrils from drooping any farther and pumped psy into them to replace what was lost. It was a waist, but not one she could have controlled. The psy composing the tendrils had started despising the moment she had lost focus.
Even after she replaced the lost psy, she continued to push more in as they snapped up. She knew time was running out, and now was not the time to be conservative.
Stepping forward and drawing her sword, Kathren slashed at the neck of a creature, blood so dark that it looked black spilling out of the wound. With every spurt that came out with the beat of the creature's heart, its dull eyes brightened with consciousness, but it was too late.
Pushing past the figure and knocking him to the floor, Kathren absently slashed at the next in line as she focused on extending her tendrils as far as she could before puncturing two of the black figures' necks.
With how they still weren't moving, it was like standing on the practice grounds firing at wooden targets. And it carried about the same amount of meaning to Kathren.
Like a seamstress puncturing a cloth, Kathren went in and out of the necks of the creatures, ripping open gaping wounds. Then, she moved on to the next in line as she took another step forward, slashing at the throat of one of the unhurt creatures.
To her sides, the others were also reaping their way through the goblins, each on their own optimized path as their targets were fed to them by the voice. So Kathren knew exactly which ones were hers, and even if they woke up in time to fight back, they would not live to see another day because she would not fail the command.
Blinking, Kathren stared into the darkness filling the back of the vast cellar, confused about how she got there. Looking down, she found her sword in hand, dripping blood into a rippling pool of liquid lapping at her boots. As she raised her head to look to her sides, all she found were the lumpy forms outlined by the light.
Gazing at the forms, fuzzy memories of using her sword and spikes to kill them bubbled up in her mind. But they didn't feel like her memories. For one, they were disjointed, filled with gaps like reading a book with pages torn out. And as she ruffled through them, it was like thinking about a play, not her life.
There was a disconnect she could not explain. Why would I…
A hand clamped down on her shoulder, and Kathren spun around, lifting her blade to drive it home into her attacker's chest, only to stop when she saw Redgenald's concerned face looking down at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kathren continued her thrust before he could make a sound as she realized what happened.
Her blade slashed into his clothes only to be deflected by whatever armor he was wearing underneath, and he turned to the side to avoid the brunt of the attack.
Stepping past the now removed obstacle, Kathren's face twisted in outrage as she moved to join the rest of the legionaries. All of them, even Centurion Borment, were blankly staring off into space in different parts of the room.
As Kathren covered the distance to the stairs, they all started blinking, coming back to themselves. She could hear mutters of confusion and bewilderment as they looked around, taking in all of the goblins' bodies.
"What in the blasted Void happened," Centurion Borment demanded, looking to all of his men, searching for answers. Kathren was the only one to respond, but all she did was tilt her head toward Redgenald, making him the target for the Centurion's growing hostility.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
It wasn't long before everyone remaining alive in the room was looking at the half-elf. Most of their gazes were one of confusion, but some were shifting toward open hostility as they realized what had happened.
"I must apologize," Redgenald said, his voice sounding focused for the first time since Kathren had met him. "It was necessary that I guide your minds to take action."
Kathren was already glaring at Redgenald, but as everyone else heard the news, they all sucked in a sharp hiss of shock and reflexively lifted their weapons, moving to form a unified front against him. Her response was to blink in surprise, forgetting her simmering rage at being controlled as he spoke in an uninterrupted sentence.
"Explain," Borment demanded, his monotone voice filling the heavy silence that had crashed down on the room.
"The dark elf was far more skilled than me," Redgenald said calmly, like the weapons pointing at him meant nothing. "However, she lacked my raw power. Sadly, it was not the overwhelming advantage I would have liked. I could prevent her from reading my thoughts and could shield your minds to an extent, but she was rapidly exerting her control despite my best efforts. So I had to lay a trap."
"This isn't explaining anything." Centurion Borment stated, his voice holding the edge of threat.
"All in good time, Centurion. The circumstances of a situation are often needed to properly explain actions, and rushing could lead to further loss of life." Redgenald lightly admonished the man from where he leaned against the first row of racks at the edges of the light, giving them plenty of room. Visibly taking a breath, Centurion Borment grunted in acknowledgment, moving into a more relaxed position.
Dipping his head in thanks, Redgenald continued, "I told you my men would be here in a minute, which she picked from your thoughts almost immediately. To avoid more losses, her forces pressed the attack while we spared in a mental battle. Her attention was so focused on finishing us off quickly that she didn't notice I was shielding my subordinate's mind as he snuck into position. Once he killed her, the backlash of her infiltration on your minds was greater than I expected. I also detected another wave of these creatures piling out of the tunnel connected to this chamber. I had to send my Knight to fight them off, leaving this group all but untouched. So I had no choice but to influence your minds."
"Why!" Kathren spat out the word before he could take his next breath and continue, her voice laden with accusation. She probably should have waited until the Centurion said something, but no one was speaking up to reprimand her. Everyone wanted to know the answer to that question.
Redgenald released a heavy sigh filled with regret, "The more a mind is influenced and partially controlled by an external source, the faster the mind can recover after the casting is lifted. It's like a muscle becoming stronger as you exert it. The goblins had their minds touched more times than I could count. Within five seconds, many of them would have partially regained their senses, and within ten, they all would have been back. I didn't have the psy to incapacitate them, and my arm can only do so much. With us already being in a Union and all of you and your minds reeling after being partially suppressed by the dark elf, I could compel and guide you to attack our enemy. It was the only way to end this without further death."
“…It sounds reasonable." Centurion Borment said after a moment, though he didn't sound all that happy about it. "But why are you suddenly speaking so well? From what I heard, you could hardly string together two words without stopping. And I find it unlikely that you would so casually talk about abilities long guarded by the Reavers." The relaxed posture he kept during the time Redgenald was talking suddenly vanished, and the Centurion radiated danger.
"You are correct." Redgenald said, running a dirty hand through his hair as a smile touched his lips, "As to the first part, it was simply because I was distracted from me monitoring everything around me all the time. Information is life in my line of work. And to your second point… Well, normally, I would tell you some shit, flash a coin, and tell you to fuck off until you forget I exist. And you would do it willingly, hoping I would leave you alone." As he spoke, he lifted a silver coin with a partially unrolled scroll placed over a dagger engraved on it.
He's a fecking Reaver! Kathren thought, her mind blanking with shock.
"But these aren't normal times," Borment commented, visibly lowering his guard but not entirely at ease. No one sane, was comfortable around his kind.
"No, they are not," Redgenald agreed, "We have been cursed to live in interesting times, and if we are lucky, our children will judge us based on our choices. Speaking of which, you will have to make an important one now."
Redgenald paused and looked the Centurion square in the eyes, waiting for him to speak. After long seconds passed, the grizzled legionary finally grunted, "What kind of choice?"
"Simple, to believe what I have to say or not. Whether you think I am some talented telepath with a bit of training or an agent of the Inquisition. In the moment of that woman's death, I was able to read part of her memories." Redgenald picked at something under his fingernails as he spoke, like what he was saying was nothing, instead of some deep-seated secret that could get them killed just for knowing it.
"The death of a body does not always directly correlate with the death of the mind and soul. There are a few moments where one can read the thoughts of a severed head if you have the skill. And I was able to do so." Kathren found herself leaning forward, fascinated by what he was telling them despite her best efforts. "I learned that there is an army on its way marching down the twins."
The declaration made the eyes of the legionaries widen in fear, but the Centurion's only response was to somehow straighten his back farther than it already was as he continued to scrutinize Redgenald. Even Kathren couldn't stop herself from throwing a glance over her shoulder, looking for the army as if they were about to march out of the shadows.
"But that doesn't matter. Even in the middle of this clusterfuck, the army's arrival will mean little and will be noticed a day or more before it arrives. What will destroy us is the collapse of Southtown's walls. The tunnel network under our feet is so extensive that they have hollowed-out vast chambers below the walls. Enough that the walls' entire width, length, and height can fall into the chambers like a puzzle piece. The third and second rings will fall; that is already certain, and trying to stop it is folly. But they didn't have the time to dig out the area beneath the first ring. Instead, they are planning to destroy one section." Reginald looked up at them, his eyes burning with conviction as he stepped forward.
"You can stay holed up in this manner, and you will probably last until you are rescued, as I doubt they will make another effort like this again. Or you can march with me to stop their construction. By myself, I will probably fail, but if I had a century of legionaries at my back, well, what can't be done then?" Looking at every person in the room one at a time to engrave the importance of their choice into them, Redgenald's eyes finally settled on Kathren as he asked, "So, what is your choice?"