Sean didn’t waste any time on witty banter. He reached back into the slot on their new pack specifically designed to quickly release its contents. With a flick of one finger, the item he was searching for fell into his waiting hands. The slime warrior cocked back into his best baseball pitcher pose…
… and hurled the big-boom-potion high above the ocean of oncoming ants with all his might.
The potion that Gel had warned him about over and over again since the moment they had picked it up sailed through the air. Time seemed to slow down as the chartreuse vial tumbled innocently towards the ground. Sean’s heart sank. He had hurled it as far as he could, but it wasn’t going to be far enough. Glass vials weren’t exactly aerodynamic, and his grip on the mini-beaker hadn’t been great.
Saren shouted, and a gust of wind rushed past the slime warrior in a howling torrent. It bowled over several ants, driving directly towards the falling potion. For a moment, Sean feared it would break. That the paladin had decided to betray him now and was ensuring the blast would take the pair of them out along with the ants. He needn’t have worried.
The gust of air curved upward, buffeting the potion and carrying it even farther away. Far enough that Sean was actually a little concerned that the paladin had inadvertently ruined their plan. If it didn’t land within the horde of ants then they would have to fight the rest—
The world tore apart.
It was hard to overstate just how loud the ensuing explosion was. A yellow-green bubble of force the size of a city block simply popped into being and, an instant later, it was gone. Along with everything the bubble had touched, dunes and all. Everything for a wide area around the bubble’s periphery – ants of all sizes and varieties – was simply vaporized as a rumble of force struck the sands like the hammer of an angry god. On impact, it sent a building-sized shockwave reverberating across the landscape.
Luckily for them, Gel had not wasted any time.
“Impact Shell!” The slime shouted, an instant after Sean had thrown the potion. Crimson energy exploded out of the slime, erecting a half-dome barrier covering head-to-toe directly in front of them.
Just as Sean was about to ask Gel what was going on, a series of prompts flashed across the slime warrior’s vision. He tried to read them, columns of whirling sand whipped around the area, obscuring all sight. Though prompts themselves were clear, the background scene of a massive column of sand arcing into the air made it impossible for him to focus.
Before Sean could even get to the first word, the shockwave reached them. His vision blurred, and the slime warrior felt the barrier in front of them break as he braced himself against the blast. His shield broke at nearly the same time, and then he felt his feet leave the ground.
A tsunami of howling sand carried him away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saren dismissed the red prompt telling him that his eardrums had burst. The Gold Spire paladin called upon the light within him to heal his wounds and recover his deafened status, then used an ability that allowed him to magnify the spell’s effect to do the same for all those around him. The cost was painfully high, and if he weren’t holding a potent source of life mana then he would never have considered doing so in combat. It would have drained his reserves dry.
As it was, the glow from the life-infused metal merely flickered. Saren wished he could afford to keep it for himself. The thought was unbecoming of one such as he, but as his hearing returned not to wails of shrieking pain but a slow, almost eerie silence he allowed himself reprieve for that one straying mental step from his path.
“Does anyone have wounds that yet remain?” Saren asked, attempting to take command of the situation. Control would give his frayed nerves some reprieve after how close they had all just come to death.
“He means.” Daerkin muttered into the hollowed-out, crumbling dome that had been their hastily-crafted shelter from the blast. “If any of you still ‘ave tongues, sound off!”
Saren watched the lizardkin’s expression freeze, then Daerkin winced and he turned to look towards where the other of his kind lay not far away. Baerlin, the willfully mute one, did not respond. Though this time it was not by choice. Gaping, fist-sized holes dotted his body all over. The former caravan guard’s scaled frame had been punctured so many times it looked like he had done it on purpose.
Because he had. Saren realized, before murmuring a small prayer in the fallen guard’s honor as he realized what had happened. The position of Baerlin’s body in relation to the open hole in their shelter made that obvious. He chose to take the blast himself.
Daerkin’s sudden anguish at his comrade’s sacrifice was too close to home for the paladin to bear. Saren turned from the scene, trying not to focus on how swiftly the faces of those he had lost came to his mind.
Bacchus. Wain. Forgive me my friends, but I do not have time yet to grieve you properly. These people need my help.
Saren forced himself back into the moment, and his feathered head swirled in many directions as he counted those who were still among the living. At first, the task helped him. There was a clinical detachment in separating and counting out the dead. But then his eyes landed upon the forms of Bernard and Karson, the old mage who had given up so much for their survival, and his young student who had never woken up.
“Light take the blighted.” Saren swore softly, tears welling up in his eyes. He had always had unshakeable faith, ever since he was a young chick scrambling to leave the nest and see the world. But today, it seemed, was designed to test him.
Why? The Gold Spire paladin asked the wandering sun high above their heads. The one endless source of light in their dark world. A minute later Saren asked again, finally bringing up the one question that had been railing his psyche over and over. The question that had never left his mind since the moment he had flown off, wounded, to save a civilian life instead of giving his own comrades a proper rest. Why could you not have taken me, instead of them?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sean’s slow return to consciousness as his inner rage faded away felt like he was scrambling to move – only he was held in an iron grip. Like he was trapped in one of those recurring nightmares he had once been haunted by as a child after his great grandfather’s funeral. The one where there had been a live casket, and Sean had made the mistake of going up to look after paying his respects.
Like he was trapped in a grave before his time, unable to move. Unable to breathe.
Then a shiver ran through him and his undead nature reasserted its control over his emotions. Sensation returned to him and Sean found he could focus on the world around him again, dark as it was. He began by reading his waiting prompts.
Gel has used the ability Knowledge Swap to exchange your Bone Shield ability with his Anchor ability. Uses of these abilities whose mana costs have been paid will remain in effect. Due to your bond, despite your mutual lack of the prerequisites to use your exchanged abilities, you will still be able to use them. Additionally, due to your symbiotic structure and morphic traits, exchanging these abilities has changed their intrinsic functions!
Bone Shield has become Impact Shell!
Anchor has become Spider Climb!
“Spider Climb”? Sean had about two dozen questions come to mind on those first three prompts, but there were still more waiting. Figuring they would probably have some of the answers he was after, he decided to tackle those first.
You have been struck by Tunneling Charge Shockwave for 5 damage (5 total, 1000 base reduced to 250 for being in zone 4 of the blast’s epicenter. Remaining 250 damage minus 50% for Impact Shell’s blunt force resistance. Remaining 125 damage reduced by 98 due to Impact Shell’s durability. Remaining 27 damage multiplied by 150% due to blunt force weakness to 41. Remaining 41 damage reduced by 36 due to Bone Shield’s durability.).
You have been struck by a burst of wind and sand for 2 damage (2 total, 10 base minus 8 due to toughness).
You have been submerged by an unknown amount of sand for 0 damage (0 total, 6 base minus 8 due to toughness).
You have been buried! As a summoned undead you are not granted any bonus for being interred.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Holy sweet gods above and below. Sean thought as he re-read the first prompt. A thousand damage?! How the fuck did we– oh.
A moment of silence passed as Sean actually processed the information, realizing how incredibly lucky they had just gotten. They had survived literally a one-thousand-damage explosion! Granted they were in “zone 4” – whatever that meant – and the Impact Shell had taken most of it, but still.
I am probably the luckiest undead to ever live. Relive? Whatever. Sean re-read the rest of the prompts again, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, and focused his attention on the last one.
You have been buried! As a summoned undead you are not granted any bonus for being interned.
Rude. Not that I know what bonus being interned could grant, but still. At least that answers why it’s so dark down here. Sean thought dryly, before reaching out to his best friend. “Hey Gel, you still alive in there?”
Sean knew he was, he could feel the slime’s vitality through their bond. But considering how they had been buried alive – buried unalive? Buried undead? Whatever – it still felt like a prudent question. At the very least, it would tell him if the slime was still conscious.
To his relief, Sean didn’t have to wait too long for a response.
“Whoooaahhkay. There is way too much sand down here. Sand is not good for my wobble, Sean! I’ve told you this! Next time, I vote we move away from the explosion!” Gel said shakily, as if the slime had just been banged around inside a washing machine stuck on ‘high speed’, which probably wasn’t too far from the truth. “What happened to that, by the way? Why didn’t you run aw– Oh, it really is dark down here, isn’t it? It’s not just me. Hu-uh.”
The slime was silent for a half-second before resuming his previous line of inquiry. “Why didn’t you run?”
“Because I’m not the world’s fastest man. I can’t outrun explosions.” Sean retorted. “Also, you told me that vial would blow up. You didn’t say it would blow up half the freaking desert all by itself.”
“We didn’t call it the ‘big-boom-pot’ because it was safe.” Gel pointed out. “Why do you think I was being so careful about it all this time?!”
“‘Careful’ is one thing.” Sean emphasized as he started trying to move his three good limbs around. “But you could have warned me we were walking around with the alchemical equivalent of a tactical nuke.”
“I don’t know what that is.” Gel admitted brightly. “But now I want one.”
Sean laughed at his friend, and was surprised to find that he didn’t feel any of the claustrophobia he had felt waking up.
Maybe a lingering effect from that weird rage I get after taking damage? Sean couldn’t tell. But it’s not like this was his first time being entombed in something. At least this time it’s just sand.
Feeling around with his hand and working in tandem with Gel, Sean began to dig his way out of the ground. It wasn’t terribly difficult. The sand hadn’t yet compacted much after falling on him, and he had thankfully managed to land on his chest before being buried.
Probably the only reason Gel didn’t get smothered and desiccated from sand. Sean thought, sending up a little ‘thank-you’ to whatever god or gods were watching him in this world that the slime had been protected by his rib cage. Though gelatinous bits on his arm didn’t seem to mind the sand, which the slime warrior was grateful for. That would have been one hell of a weakness out here.
“Oh yeah, almost forgot to say thanks.” Sean said to his friend as they worked. “I didn’t know you could do that back there, but you definitely saved both of our asses.”
“You’re welcome.” Gel said with supreme satisfaction. “I’ll admit I didn’t know what the swap would do until I used it, but trying it out was the only solution I had that didn’t involve drinking another potion. Which we didn’t have enough time for.”
“No, we did not.” Sean agreed, and he reread the prompt again before dismissing. “Based on what I’m seeing though, we should probably see what happens when we swap our other abilities around. Can you swap them back?”
“Not right now, I’m tapped out.” Gel announced, and Sean felt a spark of concern grow in the corner of his mind.
“Completely tapped out? You have no mana?”
“Not even one. I poured everything I had into Impact Shell. The more you put in, the bigger the shield.” Gel explained. “I figured we needed the biggest shield.”
Sean recalled the math on the damage they had taken from the blast, and couldn’t help but agree.
“Fair enough. So, first step once we get out of here and make sure the others are alright is to get you some mana.” Sean checked his own reserves and was relieved to see that he still had 2 in the ‘tank’, with another half hour before he needed to pay the cost again. He was riding it close, but he felt like he had time. Assuming they were allowed time to eat on the battlefield.
Hu-uh.
“Get us both some mana.” Sean corrected, before his mind continued that line of thinking. The battlefield. The battlefield! He started hurriedly shoving sand away faster. “Do you think any of them survived the blast?
“Unlikely.” Gel said, though there was no menace in the slime’s tone. Only calculation. “Some of our loot probably survived. The metal for sure. But the humans and all of them? Hmm… Maybe if they were directly behind us? No, if I recall the angles correctly all of them were in the wagon.”
Sean was silent for a moment before Gel added, almost gently.
“Which was not… behind us.”
The slime warrior maintained his silence, continuing to dig with increasing fervor. He didn’t know if getting back to the wagon faster would change anything… but in his non-existent heart, Sean hoped at least one of the survivors had made it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saren slowly pulled Karson’s still-unconscious, yet blessedly still-breathing form away from Bernard. The old man’s features were all but gone, his face having taken the brunt of the very same blast that had severed the old man’s chest from his lower half. Still, the paladin reached out with one hand and closed the valiant mage’s eyes on the world for the final time.
When we get back, he will have a hero’s funeral. Saren mentally promised the boy, before stowing the young apprentice in the wagon. And I will see you safely back, at least. As promised.
Bernard’s final sacrifice had not been a surprise to either of them, though the old mage had still hoped he had been wrong about what kind of potion the undead had shown them. Not willing to trust the creature who had rescued them even to his last, Bernard had found a brief moment to share one of his abilities with Saren. The old mage had apparently possessed a talent that would let him siphon off his own health to fuel his magic – though it came at a dangerous, if not outright deadly conversion rate.
Saren had warned the man against using it at the time, but the owlen couldn’t deny that having a secret up their sleeve had brought him comfort during their escape. Bernard had theorized that – should they remain far enough away from the initial blast – he would be capable of stopping the blast from killing them all. Assuming he had enough strength left to fuel it.
“I hope you find final comfort in knowing that you were right, good mage. You were indeed, strong enough.” Saren said softly, before repeating the same incantation and spell he had used underground to sanctify the bodies of the soon-to-be dead. There was some ambiguity among his faith as to the efficacy of such prayers after death, but Saren prayed anyway.
Such was faith.
Maxway, who had survived the blast as Saren might have expected given the turtle race’s famed durability, quietly guided the paladin to the rest of their dead. They had lost all but three of the remaining humans from their underground group, though the bodies of two couldn’t be found. Saren recalled them being caught outside the dome Bernard had erected in the midst of a brave attempt to hold back the tide. He said a prayer for them, Light help them, wherever they were now.
Both fennekian’s had survived, and having been healed by Saren’s magic both were currently scouting the nearby area for any remaining ants. There was however, no sign of their undead savior. Saren walked out of the crumbling dome and took a look around, curious if it had somehow survived – but he saw nothing. The owlen recalled that their rather mild-mannered undead monster of a rescuer had also been out fighting on the frontlines to protect them just as the now-departed humans had. Given that the undead had actually been the furthest of any of them before hurling the vial that had saved and killed so many, Saren couldn’t help but wonder if that choice had been deliberate.
The owlen paladin contemplated the notion, unsure of how he felt about it. Did it really sacrifice itself… for us?
Before he had even realized it, Saren found himself pondering whether it would do more help or harm if he, a paladin of the Light, prayed for the gentle rest of a death creature. It was something he had never considered. True monsters didn’t explicitly have souls like the enlightened did, at least not as Saren understood them. That was where the impassable boundary between them was, after all. And yet, even so, it felt like the right thing to do.
Just as the Gold Spire paladin began to murmur the words however, a sound perked his extraordinary sense of hearing. He gestured immediately for the group to arm themselves, and pointed in the direction of the shifting sands.
“Two hundred and twelve meters.” Saren reported with the same calm authority he had been using recently. “Something is trying to crawl out.”
The fennekians dashed over immediately, and even Daerkin pulled himself to his feet. The lizardkin grabbed his fallen weapons, and rushed over alongside the remaining humans. Saren readied his magic – but then stopped. What he was hearing didn’t sound like an ant.
Ants did not clatter when they moved.