Malachi Armstrong
The Council stood at the cliff’s edge staring down at the glassy lake. Warner had just fallen silent. His account of the great beast that awaited them below on all of their minds. Their fears and concerns circling for solutions. A water battle had many extra dangers to it, making the endeavor almost impossible. The Sixty had no experience in this nor much opportunity to gain it. There was no body of water on the first floor nor did the training wing have anything of the sort. Due to the present threat and the unsafe rivers, the second floor offered nowhere to practice either.
How does one defeat such a beast on its own turf?
That’s what Malachi assumed everyone was thinking. The faces of his closest comrades were contorted by distress. It was reasonable to agonize over that. Ponder all the routes one could take to negate the water or circumvent the disadvantages. No doubt some were thinking up ways to skip the fight altogether. Race to the island in hopes that the needed key was there. He wasn’t sure that there was anything on land to find. The leader of the Sixty had the distinct feeling that what the Gate required was in the water.
Simply because that would be the most challenging option.
All legitimate worries for them to work on. To parse out what exactly the Sixty needed to do to overcome this new obstacle. Personally, though, he had dismissed them all. Moved past those options to an entirely different idea. He looked down the cliff, feeling clever and a little guilty. In the games played, he always felt bad about taking advantage of the terrain or the AI of an enemy. As if there was something inherently wrong about not fighting as intended. Here, against the giant eel, the guilt was the ghost of a feeling. The safety of the Sixty was paramount to him. A little cheating to protect them wasn’t something worth wasting any time worrying about.
Malachi turned to the Council and simply said, “I have a plan.”
They looked at him in surprise as much as curiosity. He was breaking the rhythm of things. Normally the order of things was to pool thoughts and construct the plan. The sword acolyte was accelerating things. There was an itch to get past this floor. The ninety-eight floors above were feeling heavy on his shoulders. Time to rise.
He quickly explained to a crowd of mixed reactions. Emphasizing the opportunity that the cliff top offered them. What advantages they had. Some seemed dubious, while others looked impressed. Clarissa was definitely thrilled by the concept in contrast to Warner who starred disappointedly at his fists. No one disagreed though, the plan was worth giving a try.
Nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Upon the Council’s official agreement, things got started. This would be an undertaking with the full involvement of the Sixty. The prime archer formed up her compatriots and Damien explained what was expected of the acolytes. Julia led the tanks down the staircase in preparation for their part as nagging bait. Those special parts to play stayed near Malachi for his direct command while everyone else took their usual force.
The sword acolyte was determined to finish this beast today, if not the second floor altogether.
Messages came down the line, everything was in place. He turned to the pile of cannonball smooth rocks produced by Russel at his command. The earth acolyte had condensed rock to a very high level of density. Each one took the average person empowered by Mana two hands to move. Luckily using pure Mana to lift something wasn’t as limited as muscles were. It had only taken Malachi a couple of attempts to pick up the levitation spell from Damien. A few more after that to get it to the speed and fluidity he wanted.
The dense stones rose silently into the air in a shimmer of sky-blue light. Lining up over the spot intended. Malachi looked down the spiral stairs to the cove and gave the signal. The tanks moved out of the stairwell in a shield wall, pulses of Mana highlighting the shields like neon signs. Their march ended a safe distance from the lakeshore and began to stomp loudly upon the flat stone. It echoed off the cove walls, over the lake.
Malachi let a single stone fall. The impact shattered a layer of the flat stone and blotted out all other sounds. A ripple ran through the water away from shore. No other disturbance of the lake. Another stone dropped to the same effect. The third hit the same and rolled after the others into the lake. On the seventh, the leader of the Sixty began to doubt the plan.
On the ninth, the Great Eel leaped upon the stone hungrily half a breath after impact. Pale and slimy, it tried to slip back into the water with the decoy. The tanks moved forward to tease their closeness with stomps. It paused, a tremor running through the sinuous body.
Enough time for Russel to set off his trap.
Safely within the stairwell, the earth acolyte braced his hands to the ground. Dark brown swirling over his arm into the earth as if he was half sunk into the stone. Spears rose from the ground in a snap, most shattered on impact, but enough pierced through. The stone instantly became malleable once impaled through. They reformed with visible barbs and wide sealing tops. There would be no sliding off those now, the Eel was pinned.
It roared defiance as the eel went mad with pain, squirming violently and as the jaws gnashed blindly. Yellow toxin was vomited in noxious waves. The foam bits sprayed into the air as it thrashed. Stone spears gave up and broke while still lodged in. Russel replaced them just as quickly. Able to create firmer holds with each precise thrust.
Malachi gave the next signal. Clarissa grinned and Damien nodded politely.
Rainbow death rose into the air. Arrows of various solidities arced and fell in bright silence. In their wake, the chants finished, and a storm followed. Electrified wind orbs, spears of ice, bolts of power, and violet stars fell upon the Great Eel. Its roar became a high-pitched scream, but still wriggled with hateful life. Chunks were missing. Blood pooled lively like springs from the wounds. Alive despite it. Then the flames came.
Down below Allen stepped forward, fire consumed everything ahead. The monster's skin sizzled and more importantly, the yellow toxin burned away. With the terrain cleansed, the melee were free to charge through the shield wall. Linked by Zariah, the Sixty’s skirmishers raced each other to the wounded beast. The Sisters were streaks of cursed flames that spread greedily over the Great Eel. Warner and Vincent worked in tandem from either side. Striking deep down the line of the body before breaking off. Taking slow, measured shots, Soren hit at critical spots. Whether carving with the laser or using the revolver, there was a great deal of blood in the aftermath.
The melee fighters retreated as new toxic flooded out of the Great Eel. Some leaking from ravaged flesh, it had sprung a leak. Malachi ordered one more volley of archers and acolytes. Nothing else was needed.
As the dusting happened, the forming core was moved to the indentation that had been made by the rock cannonballs. No one wanted to have to fish it out of the lake should it roll down the stone ramp. The core was going to be a big one, but smaller than The Titan’s.
Russel began working on a pathway for the Sixty. The water had proved to be acidic, promising a stinging and uncomfortable swim. Experiments with creating a bridge between the second plateau and the third had found it was possible to mold the border wall. A little bit. The barrier never got any thinner, but the earth acolyte was able to pull out a strip of rock to walk upon. It would be a longer journey going along the edge than a straight shot through the water. Still, a way to the island in the end.
“What if there’s more Great Eels?” asked Reuben. The scout was eyeing the thin pathway slowly forming with a troubled expression.
Malachi eyed him curiously, “If there were more they would’ve come by now. As much noise as we have been making on the shoreline, yeah the lake is clear.”
Turning his sour expression to the water, Reuben grumbled. “That thing had to come from somewhere. I don’t fancy being ambushed with nowhere to go, but the water.”
“I’m not a monster expert nor a biologist, but I think that thing was so ravenous that it ate everything else in the lake. Including the eel kind. Likely there will be days before anything serious shows up. If we’re lucky, we’ll find the Key long before that matters.”
The scout mumbled to himself. Malachi caught only the beginning. “Better not be anymore…”
Whispering, the sword acolyte asked, “Are you afraid of the water? Do you not know how to swim?”
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Reuben whipped into eye contact with an offended look. Whispering fervently back, “Of course, I know how to swim! I just… just don’t like to be uh wet.”
“You don’t like being wet…”
“Nope.”
“Alright,” confirmed Malachi. “You don’t have to come to the island.”
“I’ll be there. I might complain about it and glare at the water. But, I’ll be there. I am not letting a little heebie-jeebies keep me from taking a look at something new. That place looks like it has secrets.”
The leader of the Sixty looked over the lake at the misty island and agreed with a nod. There was something about that place. A solemn tranquility. The sort of place you expected to find a temple or shrine. That was why he doubted the Key was on there, but there might be another clue. Malachi eyed the water and looked at his reddened hand. The stinging was gone, the irritation not so much. He hoped the issue was the water was just affected by Great Eel’s noxious death throes.
Time passed with everyone pretending not to be waiting on Russel. The earth acolyte, for his part, didn’t seem to notice. Completely engrossed in his work. Just slow and methodically built the curving walkway. A few parties went hunting in the interim. More cores were always useful. Malachi chose to stay at the shore, his party watching over the bridge building. In case any of the big white Cliff Flyers got curious or that Giant Eels weren’t as rare as it seemed.
He was staring into the reflective waters in thought, studying the silver Mana inside him. It was something Malachi did often. Peering and weighting. A compulsion to make sure that as the leader, he was making the right decisions. The pool remained unbroken and the good opinion of the Sixty was still strong. Reassuring as always, if baffling to part of him. His dedication was true, his confidence strong, and he held to an unflinching vision. Everything was as the sword acolyte expected, but still, there was that small voice of doubt. Questioning and weedling. Annoying always, draining at times, and always a useful tool.
Doubt keeps people honest about themselves.
Which was a good thing to have around. Victory and success can be corrupting if allowed to go to your head. One had to be vigilant against your own arrogance devouring everything. It was a major reason why until now, Malachi had avoided taking charge. He remembered very miserably and very painfully what it did to his father.
There was a call from across the lake. So obnoxious and cheerful that he instantly knew it was Clarissa. Malachi looked up at three figures on the island’s shoreline. Russel had collapsed just above the pebbles of the rocky beach, Clarissa waving madly, and Reuben standing so he could see the sword acolyte while staring down the treeline. He waved back and gave a thumbs-up. Released, the scout disappeared between the shadowy trees.
Messengers were sent for the others and Malachi proceeded down the walkway. Seeing him finished with his reflections, Julia joined him. They shared a smile before taking the single-file route to the island. He studied the water of the lake. It was murky and rapidly deepened into featureless darkness.
“Water’s pretty deep,” noted Julia, opening the conversation.
He smiled to himself, enjoying having someone who knew him so well. “Yeah, that’ll make things a little more difficult.”
“If the island doesn’t have what we need,” Julia stated as half a question.
“Doesn’t really match the clues in my opinion, no matter how important it looks.”
Julia recited the clues, ““A King can slumber under the mightiest roar,” “A bauble to most, a treasure to some, and a key to a few,” “Beware! It seeks and tastes, but has no love for beauty,” and “Bring a kingly boon to fill my empty bosom.” Hmm, I suppose nothing about that suggests the island, but the clues also don’t exclude it.”
“Ahh the nature of riddles,” smiled Malachi, his tone dry and eyes bright. “Yeah, you’re right I could be off base. That island would be a whole lot nicer than searching in water that is acidic and gloomy”
“Fair, maybe I’m just hopeful,” grimaced Julia, taking her own long look at the tranquil lake. “I guess the “mightiest roar” is an illusion to the waterfalls, that one could mean just the lake in general though. The rest of it seems more focused on telling us there is an object to find.”
“I believe the clue in the cavern maze was warning us about the Giant Eel,” offered Malachi. “The Key is apparently beautiful and the eel has no love for it, because of being blind. A water guardian makes more sense for protecting something in the lake.”
“It was doing a pretty good job of blocking our way to the island,” retorted Julia.
“True, until we showed it our teeth,” beamed Malachi.
Julia’s eyes flashed, “It certainly didn’t stand a chance then. Ok so, what do you think the ruins are then? There’s something of note in the center of the island.”
“No idea,” admitted Malachi. “Could be like that spirit seal around the boulder on the second plateau. What was that for? It was lively, but didn’t have anything to do with our goals as far as I could see.”
“Could be…” frowned Julia. “ You know, I really think you’re just working yourself up too much. Why does the water worry you anyways? The Sixty isn’t going to balk at a swim.”
“Good point. Maybe it’s just a feeling needling me then. A hunch.”
“I trust your hunches because they keep us safe. Sometimes you are over-cautious, but this place is literally designed to kill us if we’re not able to rise to the occasion. Pessimism works until it makes you paranoid. Even if you’re right, maybe be a little more hopeful?”
“You’re alright right, Julia,” agreed Malachi. “I shouldn’t be wringing myself out for a possibility. We’ll figure something out if it comes to that. The Sixty are a wily bunch.”
“That we are,” smiled the shieldmaiden.
Grinning, the sword acolyte teased, “Maybe I need extra measures to keep my mood up. How does making Clarissa our official jester sound?”
“O’ god!” exclaimed Julia with a laugh. “Don’t encourage her like that! It wouldn’t end well.”
Laughing, he replied, “No, it would not.”
Their feet crunched on the rocky shore. Pebbles shifted with every step. The island was silent except for distant falls. Like the lake, there was a deep stillness here. It felt like a cemetery to Malachi. Quiet, but humming. Sacred and separate. He could see across the lake that people were trickling back from their hunts. An impulse rose up in him to stop them there on that distant shore. Bringing so many at once seemed wrong somehow. Intrusive.
Logically there was no reason, but the feeling was strong.
He was tottering on the issue. Unconvinced in either direction. With relief, the issue resolved itself. Across the way, most took a seat a safe distance from the shore. Waiting for a report, or at least resting before making the trek.
Reuben appeared from the trees, looking uneasy and pale. Unhurt, but haunted. Malachi wasn’t surprised. There was something odd about this place. He and Julia moved to meet the scout. Clarissa, who had been skipping stones, broke off to join them. So did the rest of the party.
“What did you see?” asked Malachi.
Clarissa, eyes sparking added the question, “Run into somethin’ nasty? I bet! The eel was too much of a pushover.”
“What? No…” responded the scout. “There’s a memorial in the center. Several really…”
Harken stepped past them towards the trees. “Show us the way, Reuben. Let’s take a look.”
The scout looked at Malachi for approval and got it. Everyone followed, but the priestly man walked at Reuben’s side. Ready to lead himself if the group was any slower. The trees they walked through were ordinary-looking oak trees. Thin, younger on the outside, but grew larger, more ancient the further they went in. That feeling in the air grew stronger, tingling at the sword acolyte’s fingers. He felt not eyes, but presences all around them. The trees felt watchful. Solemn.
Abruptly, the forest ended and the center of it all began. An encirclement of a trench and a mound stood before them. The tops of standing stones were just barely visible over the earthen wall, glowing visibility under the sun crystals. They followed the white stone-lined trench to an opening that faced the falls. A little bridge of gray-blue stone allowed passage through a narrow breach in the wall. Stone lined and braced.
Within were thirteen standing stones in a circle. One in the center. The grounds were flattened with crushed white gravel. Reuben hesitated before the bridge, but Harken strode unperturbed. Excitement in every step. Malachi paused too. There was a pressure in the air, a sensation similar to his ears being compressed because of an altitude change. Except over the whole of his body.
Julia saw the distress and held his hand a moment to squeeze it. Together they crossed through into the center. The silence was so thick it was loud and filled with static. Carved towards the top of the stones were names made of liquid gold. They didn’t mean anything to them, but the memorial aspect was clear at a look.
“Oir’Talafaigh,” said Damien, loud in the hush. The obsidian acolyte was standing in front of one of the stones. Hand reaching up, reading the shimmering script that rose at his attention. “That was Xaiver’s city. It was destroyed.”
“His city? Destroyed?” asked Harken, coming over to look at the same one.
Damien frowned, “Yeah, it says here that Oir’Talafaigh was a city of learning and magic. Destroyed in a single night. The “Armies of the World” whipped the city off the map. Our books mentioned he was their Grand Wizard.”
“That’s haunting,” whispered Clarissa, her normal cheer gone. Pale and serious.
Malachi agreed. The Armies of the World sounded pretty ominous. Thirteen stones meant these were likely memorials to thirteen lost cities. He turned to the closest stone and raised a hand.
Kardiholm, Capital of the Union
Besieged by the Armies of the World in the third year of the Conflict
Lost in the fifth year of the Conflict
Three million Souls lost despite evacuations
Retaken in the seventh year and razed in the ninth
We pray for the Souls that have gone ahead
Let them know our Love
“The scope… I’m not sure I want to know more,” grimaced Malachi. “They made monuments to cities rather than the individuals…”
Sickly, Julia refused him. “No, the names are there too. Look closer.”
He did and Malachi wished he hadn’t. What had been mistaken as a glow was millions of names carved not just physically, but spiritually into the stone. Each name came with a flash of something, a snapshot of emotion, or an image. It was hard to look away, so painful to keep reading.
The leader of the Sixty looked at the thirteen memorials and felt pessimistic. A horrible premonition chilled his bones, silenced his heart. Worse, it left no impression. Only the shadow of grief and terror.