We met in a clash of sparks and steel.
We exchanged no words, for none were necessary. Our battle was conversation enough. Brymir moved like an earthquake, each stride shaking the platform we fought upon, leaving deep cracks upon its surface.
Air billowed around his massive club, errant strikes cratering the adobe arena and nearly sending me to my knees, forcing me to dodge the hardened clay that flew like shrapnel every which way.
His increased Attunement made him far stronger than I. But with the song empowering me, Draconic Blood healing the damage it wrought upon my organs and muscles, I was faster.
I moved like a river, coursing and flowing around and upon and between his strikes. The weight of the gilded greatsword was a forgotten memory to me, as I swirled in time to the waltz of blood and fire.
I danced circles around the Champion, narrowly avoiding his crushing blows, watching the club’s spikes whistle just past my eyes. I couldn’t meet his weapon head on, but I didn’t need to. Waiting for the perfect moment, I struck.
My greatsword slid so quickly through the air that it hummed. I lopped off his left arm in a single strike.
The Champion howled in agony.
He bared bloody blue teeth at me in renewed challenge. The stump of his left arm bulged and rippled before, in an instant, a new one tore forth from it. Brymir flexed freshly-grown fingers and smiled at me, snarling in a feral grin.
His aura increased in intensity.
The orange wiring that riddled his body flared brilliantly, blaring with volcanic light. The air became sweltering. The kilned earth below his feet began to glow a cherry red. It felt like the walls themselves were melting.
Sweat dripped off my skin, falling sizzling onto the red-hot bricks below. It made my grip on my greatsword loose. I could feel minute burns blossom across my body, my leather boots catching alight and wasting away to nothing. Draconic Blood was barely able to handle the strain. The Champion breathed deep, drawing the superheated air into his lungs. And then he exhaled.
Fire erupted from his maw.
A massive gout of scorching Entropy accelerated towards me. A wall of plasma tens of feet high. There was no time to dodge. There was nowhere to dodge. Death approached me, and time seemed to slow.
I focused on the song in my mind.
Draconic Blood was the key to this, and I could hear it well within my head. But it was nascent, ungrown, a mewling babe compared to the Champion’s tried and tested soldier. I needed more. I needed to understand. Closing my eyes as the inferno approached me, I let my mind drift.
I imagined the sound of fire.
I remembered the bonfire of just last night, now seeming so long ago. It was a joyous flame. A gleeful crackle of jostling logs, a heartfelt cheer of people celebrating. A great and jolly beacon that shone out into the endless night, carrying with it the hopes and dreams of all my people. I remembered that same fire reflected in their eyes, shining with light and life. For that was a part of fire too; not just destruction, but creation in equal measure. I remembered the embers that remained after, softly glowing coals that reflected off of Master Ewan’s rigid face and illuminated our midnight conversation.
The song of Fire was hope, and light and life.
I imagined the sound of the sun.
The time I’d spent in the dark of the Labyrinth, yearning for it, only made the fantasy clearer. I remembered its warm, soothing light, that was at the same time fierce and scourging. I remembered hearing its ever-present hum as I walked through the forest in the early morning. It fed our planet, warmed our surface and nourished all life, but it could so easily destroy. I remembered the raw, pink, tender skin of my first sunburn. I remembered the stain it left in my eyes when I gazed upon it for too long.
The song of fire was beautiful, and terrible and consumed all.
But fire was only half of the equation.
I imagined the sound of blood.
It was easier, much easier than fire. I’d seen so very much of it today, too much, enough for a lifetime. I’d seen the thick, noxious, corrupted blood of creatures within the mimic manor. I remembered the choking, burbling, gasping gurgle that the mimic knight let out as blood spurted from its throat. I remembered the feeling of it coating my blade. I remembered the sensation of it covering my flesh, almost drowning me.
I remembered the blood of friends and comrades spilled upon the cold wood floor. I remembered that final connection severed, the penultimate string cut, as the last of Aldwyn’s blood drained out of him. I remembered the soft and tragic and terminal sigh that he let out as the mimic knight ran him through. I remembered his own blood soaking the ground beneath him, turning him from a living, thinking, breathing human, into a corpse.
For blood was life too, but in a different manner than fire. Fire was creation. Fire was renewal. A broad, grand, vague concept. But blood was intimate. It was individual. The song of blood was essence, and existence, and above all else, mortal.
The memories whirled within me, Entropy churning inside my skull, swirling around a single spot. The maelstrom expanded and intensified as the last memory invaded me.
I remembered the first flame.
The first fire I ever saw.
I was with Mom. It was cold outside our cabin, the snow coming down in great, heavy flakes, coating the world in a layer of marble icing. She and I were cuddled near the chimney, sat right next to the softly glowing hearth, huddling together for warmth. I was barely more than a babe, and she’d swaddled me in blankets. She was spinning tales of heroes while she rocked me gently back and forth.
Her tender smile as she looked at me nearly broke my heart.
An ember snapped in the fireplace, a log cracking, emitting a small shower of sparks. It was so much simpler, so much humbler than the massive bonfires thrown by the village, yet somehow, all the more warming. It was weaker, meeker, gentler than the overwhelming power of the sun, yet impossibly, all the more radiant and potent and real.
I closed my eyes within the memory, and heard. I heard the snap and crackle of the logs. I heard the warmth of her skin, the hot blood beneath, hotter even than the fire.
Above all, I heard the strong thump of her heart. Bringing her life. Filling her with warmth. A powerful, constant, percussive beat. That which separated the living from the dead. The sound that decided existence. There in an instant, gone the next. Beautiful and ephemeral.
Fire and Blood.
I opened my eyes, and I knew.
~~~
Draconic Blood 1→5
ADMINISTRATION 5→7
~~~
The sea of flame bore down on me, but it frightened me no longer, for fire was mine to command.
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Raising a single palm, I called forth my Entropy from within. It swept outward in a great tide, invading the stream sent by the Champion, pushing and shaping and asserting control.
The ocean parted, guided to either side of me, swirling around me in circles, dancing to my tune. The heat around me increased further, carbonizing my leathers and melting my greatsword down to a puddle of steel and gold, but it didn’t harm me. How could it? It was a part of me now. It flowed through my blood.
I bade the fire grow strong.
It whirled around me, circling me in ever-increasing furor, forming great plasmic rings. Droplets of blood thick with Entropy left my pores and invaded the fanned flame. My vital ichor perfused the inferno, turning it from bright orange to deep, dark red.
It thrummed with my own song, and I sent it back to its creator.
Brymir’s eyes widened, and it was upon him.
The sea of flame consumed the Kobold Champion, swallowing him up in a great ruby-red maw. He bellowed from within but was drowned out by the blaze. His scales were sharp and hard, but I could feel my fire cook him from the inside out, boiling blood and roasting organs, even his Blessing unable to protect him from the empowered inferno.
When the conflagration finally died down, the Champion emerged, burnt and blackened. Brymir’s scales had sloughed off, melting in the heat. One of his eyes had burst. He rasped in pain. His regeneration had seemingly spent itself entirely on mitigating the effects of the flames. With one last howl, unwilling to admit defeat, he charged me.
His greatclub came down upon me like a mountain, massive and brutal, but his form was sloppy, and within his weapon was naught but soft stone. Drawing blood from my body, coating my hand with it and empowering its edge with Entropy, I dodged to the side and sliced right through the rock.
Spinning fluidly, I followed through the stroke and separated the Kobold Champion’s head from his body. His frame collapsed heavily, shaking the ground for one final time, and dissolved into gouts of red-orange flame, leaving behind a single blue crystal, far larger than any I’d seen before.
At the very same moment, behind the throne at the other end of the arena, for the first time, two doors appeared.
Panting heavily, I fell to my knees in relief and fatigue. The expenditure of Entropy necessary to counter the Champion’s flame had nearly exhausted me, but finally, finally, my struggles were over.
Finally, I was free.
I laughed shakily, grief for once overpowered by the exultation of success, and the knowledge that I’d at long last accomplished what we’d set out to do.
I could return to the village, bringing with me bounty enough to make everyone there comfortable for the rest of their lives. I’d triggered, receiving the powerful Blessing that I’d dreamed of for so long. After I entrusted the crystals to the village, I’d be free to live a life of glory and adventure.
Everything was going to be ok.
Easing myself to my feet once more, the burn in my sore muscles fading with each passing second as Draconic Blood did its work, I picked up the crystals and made for the exit. Even the Labyrinth itself seemed to grudgingly admit that the danger was over. Instead of some convoluted test, the doors were labeled simply, almost professionally, large letters above each declaring their nature: Floor 2 and Exit.
For a moment, I gazed consideringly at the door to the second floor.
As much suffering as I’d already endured within the bowels of the cursed place, I couldn’t help but wonder what might lay beyond. More Entropy crystals, and more powerful ones at that, certainly. But what…else might I find?
What else lay, hidden, secreted away within the heart of the World Titan? I’d already done so much, seen so much. What fantastical creatures and bizarre vistas might I encounter if I were only willing to delve just a bit…more? Just a little…deeper.
I might find new foes to test myself against. Even before becoming Blessed, I’d enjoyed the art of combat, of putting my life on the line, of pushing myself to the very edge and further beyond still, stretching the limits of what I could achieve. Now, every new Champion I encountered might possess a novel, puissant Blessing for me to pilfer. I could become stronger than my wildest dreams.
I might find strange and potent artifacts within the dungeon’s depths. I’d heard stories of the relics scattered across the earth, owned by the wealthy and the powerful. Perhaps I’d find one for myself. A sword that could cut anything. An herb that granted invulnerability. A horn that could summon armies. The possibilities were endless.
And they were just the tip of the iceberg. Encountering the Kobold village had ignited my wanderlust, fueling my craving for exploration and adventure, convincing me that I might encounter whole new civilizations and cultures within. Creatures and places never seen before, that could not exist outside. Perhaps not all of them would be as bloodthirsty as the one I’d encountered today.
Despite myself, despite all the pain and grief I’d experienced within its confines, I couldn’t deny the sense of possibility the Labyrinth exuded. Here, in the body of the World Titan, everything was unique. Everything was special. Ecosystems and those that inhabited them might be seen once, and never again. Here, I was a pioneer, delving bravely forth into the infinite unknown, widening the breadth of humanity’s knowledge and understanding.
The craving was potent. Idly, I wondered how many Blessed lost themselves entirely to its siren song, delving deeper and deeper, never to return to the surface world. Perhaps one day, I might too.
But not today. There were people who still needed me, and a promise I had to keep.
I turned to the other door, the one marked Exit, and pushed it lightly. Easily, it swung open, and the light of incandescent lichen illuminated me once more. I walked out into the cave, and the double stone doors slammed shut behind me. Navigating it was quick and easy, especially compared to the Kobold caverns I’d just exited.
I walked out through its opening with a pleasant sigh, my arms spread wide, waiting for the sun’s warming rays to grace my skin. Instead, the only thing that struck me was the pale light of the moon, already high in the sky.
It was nearly midnight.
I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. I knew we’d spent far longer in the Maw than intended, but time inside had blurred to such a degree, amidst all the chaos, that our delve’s true duration had escaped me. Next time, I’d have to bring some mechanism of keeping track.
Undeterred, the darkness now insufficient to frighten me with my awareness constantly expanded in the song, I made quick pace through the forest. It’d taken less than an hour to reach the Maw this morning and, even without making active use of the Entropy coursing through my veins, I’d make it back in half that time.
I was barely ten minutes out when I first caught sight of it. A large, black pillar of smoke drifted repulsively upwards from the woods in front of me. It came right from the direction of Burrick.
My stomach churned.
A bonfire? Impossible. If anything, the villagers should be worried, not celebrating. And besides, the plume from this fire was far larger than anything I’d seen before.
Which left only one possibility.
Calling upon my Entropy to replicate an action I’d never consciously undertaken before, I lifted myself from the forest floor and shot up into the air. Wobbling slightly, my control in such an exercise unsteady, I grabbed hold of a nearby pine, and gazed off in the direction of the village.
My visage contorted in horror.
I was far away still, but I could see enough. Half the village was awash with flame. Cabins burned, smoke clouded the streets, and a great bonfire blazed forth from the center square. An accident? No.
An attack.
I could barely make them out from my vantage point, but forcing the song into my eyes allowed my vision to sharpen just enough. I could see bodies being dragged through the streets, a great mass of people corralled into the square. We’d been raided. How? Our village was in the middle of nowhere. How could there be bandits here? And why? We had nothing. Nothing to loot, too few villagers to make a slaving trip worthwhile.
As my mind raced, I noticed something even more disturbing. Twin pillars of light, sirens blaring in the song, blazed forth from the town square, stark against the starry backdrop of the night sky.
Blessed.
Their melodies serenaded me, galvanic crimson and polished steel, and though I was too far to take them for my own, I heard them both just fine.
~~~
Surge
Attunement: Flash Step 5
Grain: Tensile Musculature
~~~
Flange
Attunement: Soulbound Weapon 8
Grain: Premonition of Violence
~~~
Not one Blessed. Two. Both combat-oriented. Both with Grains. One of them had higher Attunement than me.
My blood froze. Ewan. Raynie. The only ones I had left.
Fear raced through my mind and coiled in my gut as I plummeted from tree to ground, landing heavily. The song shivered around me, pulsing agitatedly, shifting between anxiety and rage. With a flex of will, I commanded it.
Entropy surged beneath my skin, bloating my muscles with arcane might. Draconic Blood spun up, fully fueled with energy, adding its tenor of vitality to my song as it empowered me further. I took off like an arrow, speeding for my home as quickly as my body would allow. Branches splintered and bushes crumpled in my wake, the trees turning into a brown-green blur beside me.
“Please,” I begged, “Please.”
“Don’t let me be too late.”