“Hey! Get away—”
Baba was replaced by a swath of brown fur that filled the crystal ball.
Muffled grunts and curses slowly pushed the brown just enough that a distorted eye appeared in a sliver of space.
“—melly beast!”
A voice pierced the scuffle.
Sharp, strong, as heavy as the weight of her land.
“Come! Misha!”
The bear ambled away from the crystal ball to the tsarina upon her throne on raised platform.
She was alone aside from the enormous brown bear that curled up behind the wooden throne.
Cal nodded.
“Tsarina.”
She didn’t go by her name.
Only a handful of people even knew what some of it was since, like him, she looked much younger than her actual age.
Older than him by over 40 years.
Even her children and grandchildren didn’t know her full, real name.
“What’s this about, Cal? And why didn’t you just use a phone and your precious Omninet?” she wiggled her fingers dismissively.
“Security reasons. You don’t trust it, but you trust this. And you’re more likely to give my request full consideration if you’re more comfortable with the setting.”
“You git.” She curled her lip. “A conductor of men. I tell this to my advisors, but they merely nod like I don’t know they have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“That’s the price of sycophants.”
She spat. “Do you know how hard it is to find people not afraid of being in my mere presence?”
The tsarina was over 7 feet tall with a build that surpassed the athletic heights possible for normal humanity. She could’ve stood with the eidolons as the best of them in terms of physical appearance.
As for actual power?
In a fight, he’d give her close to even odds against Suiteonemiades as long as it happened in territory she controlled.
“Yes.” She nodded to herself. “I’m a busy woman. What do you want?”
Like much of the world, old Russia, rather the parts of it that she controlled, was also dealing with problems from both within and without.
An alliance made up of witch covens, druid circles and the scraps of organized crime, the old state security apparatus, and a few decrepit oligarchs still clinging to their wretched existences had risen in recent years in an attempt to bring the ‘true’ Russia back.
Outworld invaders added to that unpleasant stew. No less than 9 different factions trying to hold on or expand the territory they had claimed in parts distant from the tsarina’s cities and larger towns.
As for the remote parts to the north and northeast close to the Arctic Circle where human life no longer existed?
Even worst things stirred.
The Russians owed his brother for over 2 decades of limiting the number of giant monsters and eldritch things that made their way south.
He himself had taken care of a few such things in recent years and unlike Eron he had no problem collecting for his services.
Indeed, it was the only reason the tsarina had agreed to connect her people to the Omninet and take his calls.
“I’m looking for volunteers for a potential Quest. It will be the most dangerous thing they have ever faced.”
“Continue.”
He gave her as many details as he could without risking his son’s opsec.
Brisk and strictly factual as she preferred.
He didn’t try to couch it in terms he knew would sway her to his side.
She’d recognize them.
He didn’t try to nudge her thoughts.
Her powers, her connection to her land and people would constantly fight to bring them back to their natural state.
Worse, she’d realize it even if she wouldn’t necessarily be able to trace it to him.
Her smile grew bigger and more feral.
He could almost see a predatory gleam in her eyes.
Misha the bear certainly looked just about ready to charge him through the giant crystal ball.
“Mother fucker!” She cracked the thick wood arm of her throne with a light tap. “Now that is a fight! I’ve been itching to try out one of these demigods. Those eidolons were disappointing. You know, I watch the videos you sent everyday. Even if the quality is bad like the movie tapes my brothers used to sell down in Red Square.”
“It’s the golden energy they have. Naturally messes with recording even if they don’t do it on purpose.”
“Very well. How many do you want? I have plenty of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Even have a basketball team of great great grandchildren now.” She snorted.
“Congratulations on the new addition!”
Children were precious.
“Yes, yes.” She waved her hand dismissively. “So, how many do you want? They’re getting lazy and fat. I give you and you whip them into shape.”
“No.”
“Fine. You take… I give you 1 real warrior for every 3 lazy ones you take?” the tsarina paused for thought. “Angelika is promising. A true blooding will serve her well.”
“That’s your great granddaughter? She’s 12?”
“Just turned 13. It will be good experience for her.”
“No.”
“My blood is not good enough for your little Quest?”
“Their chances of death are very high even with them at their best.”
She spat. “We put soil in soles of boots. Weakness is mitigated.”
“Mitigating isn’t the same as removing. And it’s a moot point. Even you at your absolute best have a 50% chance of dying.”
Her eyes seemed to sparkle.
“I’m not accepting you or your family.”
“Then you’re leaving conversation empty-handed. I wouldn’t send anyone below Level 50 against an eidolon. As for demigod? I don’t know any classer with high enough level to face one of them.” She idly scratched the bear’s head. “You say you want volunteers, but is that true when you know there is only one besides myself that fits. And that suka is less likely to leave our motherland than me. You have my permission to try.”
“A command from the tsarina would be helpful.”
“Ha! That suka is lazier than the worst of my spawn. I failed to beat it out of him once. Now he knows I won’t try it again because the destruction will be bad for my land and people. Take him even if he refuses. You have my leave.” She laughed. “His costs outweigh his uses. He even refuses to make babies.”
Which was reasonable to Cal.
People shouldn’t be forced to have children for some kind of nebulous greater good since what that meant depended on one’s perspective.
“Just go ask him yourself. It is better chance for you. My words would only raise his guard because he is a lazy, cowardly suka at his core. Kidnap him. You have my permission. I shall proclaim it his brave service to advance motherland.”
“Thank you. I’ll pay him a visit sometime in the next week. I’d appreciate it if you could let him know.”
She laughed again.
“He’s less likely to attack you than one of mine. You want him, you get him. I don’t care either way. Unless…” she tapped her chin. “You change your mind about taking one of my spawn. Take at least five and I’ll tie him up in a nice bow for you.”
“I—”
“I have said what I will. This diversion is over.”
The connection cut.
She did always have to have the last word.
The next call was a tougher one.
His cousin was like stubborn buffalo with a steel skull.
No problem at all ramming it over and over again into a Threnium wall.
Once a week like clockwork trying to wear down his resistance to what was a terrible idea.
“Rynnen, how has your week gone?”
Big, broad-shouldered and thick-necked with Cruces eyes and nose.
His cousin was the tallest and largest of them all.
Cal might’ve bemoaned the fact that he alone out of all his family members didn’t experience a physical growth post-spires if not for the fact that his powers made him the strongest, regardless of what some of them might’ve thought… Eron was wrong, obviously.
Rayna and Eron had grown the most, followed by Remy, then their dad, then mom.
Madalena and Rynnen had been children when the spires had appeared so they had grown the most.
Something to do with growing to maturity as superhuman rather than baseline human.
At least that’s what the medical experts had come to concluded through their studies.
Rynnen scowled.
“Every week that goes by without putting hands on that piece of shit makes me angry.”
Cal wondered if that was a perpetual feature or if his little cousin reserved it for their calls.
“Well, I guess that means you’ll be angrier for another week. How is your family doing?”
Rynnen ground his teeth audibly.
The veins in his neck writhed.
The holographic projection was so lifelike.
“Jennie’s improving.”
The young girl’s healing had sped up like an avalanche in recent weeks.
The first week had been dicey.
She had spent it in a coma as the hospital struggled to keep her alive so that the healing could sink its claws in, so to speak.
After that they had taken it slow and steady so as to avoid negatively impacting her physical growth.
Rynnen grunted.
“You already know that. You can track her progress.”
“I meant more the mental, emotional side of it. Triggers? Nightmares?”
Rynnen sighed.
“She destroyed her room a few days ago. She was watching an old movie and there was a part where the robots destroyed a city. I completely forgot about that. It set her back.”
“Recovery isn’t linear. Sometimes she’ll take a step or two back.”
“I know that!” Rynnen snapped. “I’ve seen it plenty of times. Experienced it myself. I had nightmares of the Vitiator until I was almost 20. They didn’t go away until I realized that if I ever saw that bastard again I could punch him to death.”
“But never for your daughter.”
“Obviously not. I said to myself when she was born that she’d never have to go through anything I did.” Rynnen fell silent. “The one nightmare I still have is when my parents were killed. Now, I’m thinking will my kids have to go through that one day. It’s not like I can just quit. I still have to protect them, which I failed to do.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Want to talk about it?”
Rynnen shook his head. “I do that plenty with Tito and Tita. Plus, the counseling you make me go to.”
“I’m not making you go.”
“Yes, you are. You say it’s just a suggestion, but I know what you really mean. Because if you’re suggesting it then it means it’s a ‘must do thing’.”
“What has Jennie’s therapist suggested?”
“Like you don’t know already.”
“Rynnen, I trying to help.”
“Suiteonemiades dead and Madalena back. Those two things will help.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Well, work faster. Jennie asks about her everyday. She thinks it’s her fault because she was supposed to be watching her brother.”
“We’ve explained it to her.”
“Yeah, but you know that doesn’t mean anything unless it gets through. She’s sure that because Madalena had to bring Ryan back to our condo Madalena had to fight without her usual gear. That, she was in the way. And no amount of explaining that it wouldn’t have made a difference is getting through.”
“You know… I could say the same thing about you. It’s not your fault either. It could’ve gone worse had you been there instead of out on date night. Your kids might be orphans now. Madalena could still be held hostage. Or any number of even worse outcomes. Despite the traumas, you’re all still alive and as long as you’re alive that means you can heal.” He regarded his cousin. Rynnen’s hands clenched into fists unconsciously. “Do you think it’d help Jennie if she could spend more time with her mom and brothers without you or my dad hovering over her in case of an… episode?”
“It is a reminder of what happened, but we can’t risk her accidentally hurting someone else.”
“If it’s okay with you and her mom, I asked Ms. Teacher for a solution and she finally got back to me with an enchanted bracelet.”
“What does it do?”
“It will put her in a sort of stasis in the event of a triggered episode.”
“What are the side effects? I don’t want her hurting herself if she’s straining against invisible chains or something like that.”
“No side effects. She simply won’t move.”
“Does that mess with the mental stuff?”
“Nope. Her brain will still think it’s moving her body.”
“She also offered high quality potions to help with sleep and nightmares.”
“I don’t trust those.”
“She assures me they aren’t addictive like lesser quality ones can be.”
“Can’t you just do your thing more often?”
“I can, but we agreed with the experts that she needs to be the one that does the heavy lifting with her trauma to truly move beyond it.”
“She’s just a kid.”
“Which makes her more resilient than us.”
“Alright, I have to talk it over with her mom first.”
Cal guided his cousin through a conversation about lighter things.
Rynnen’s heart and mind remained heavy, but the anger slowly bled out by the time they finished.
----------------------------------------
Individually, the monster spirits weren’t a great threat as long as one had spells. The latter could be natural or the result of a Skill or spell.
Things like fire or specific plant and animal life worked on some, but not all.
Alin was thankful that the gray worked on all of them.
They wouldn’t have gotten far into the forest without it for the spirits could inhabit every living thing and inanimate object.
Squirrels and chipmunks chittered malevolently as they surveyed the shrouded environment through baleful eyes glowing a pale green.
The branches they scampered about on occasionally undulated as if poised to strike at the 8 person group moving quickly, but quietly through the foliage.
Yellows, orange and reds crunched underneath their boots.
Brave men and women flinched each time one of the gnarled oaks hesitantly reached toward the sound before being distracted away by Alin’s efforts.
The mountain people had built a small village deep inside, near a small lake fed by a river that originated higher up in the mountains.
It had been too far for Ray’s town to hit directly on foot due to the aforementioned haunted forest issue.
For obvious reasons they couldn’t have just started a massive forest fire.
Still, stupid people had tried a few years back.
It turned out that being inhabited by monster spirits meant that enough of the foliage was either immune to fire or grew back unnaturally quick.
He pushed the gray out to almost a kilometer.
A giant circle with him in the center.
The echoes of his relatives fought at the outer edges, drawing attention from the spirits not immobilized by possessing something like a tree or rocks, which wasn’t always the case.
When spurred to action they could make anything move.
Those mobs weren’t the priority.
They were there for the mountain people and the more powerful monster spirits bound in their village.
Eliminating them meant removing a potentially huge threat to their evacuation plans.
The mountain people left a helpful trail through the undergrowth.
Alin stopped, holding up a fist.
A black bear ambled a hundred yards ahead.
The poor animal was ridden with spirits.
It was worse than normal parasites for its body and mind were in agony.
Even an animal understood the wrongness inflicted upon it.
He waited motionless for it to pass and continue on to whatever madness the spirits controlling it desired.
An hour turned into several when he sensed the first human presence in the leading edge of the gray.
He signaled Ray.
The Silveraxe had a proper, fully-equipped helmet.
He looked at it wistfully.
It had been months and he still keenly felt his power armor’s absence.
Like a parent whose child was away at summer camp.
Or so he imagined.
Fortunately, he had been given a better set of comms for this Quest.
Less happily, he was going to have to give it back after to maintain the cover story.
He idly wondered if they could buy some off Silveraxe.
Would he sell them to mercenaries in the employ of a congresswoman when the town had steadfastly refused to return to their rightful destiny?
Sadly, no.
That wasn’t likely.
Unless…
“Hey, Mr. Silveraxe?”
“Yeah?”
“How much for a set of these awesome comms?”
“Not for sale… although, if you do the job we hired you to do well, I might be convinced to part with some for a good price… for me.”
“Thanks.”
It was a huge benefit being able to speak without worrying too much about being overheard.
“We’re close, by the way. I sense mountain people a little under a kilometer ahead of us. Time to get off the trail?”
“That depends entirely on you. Can you keep concealing us?”
“Don’t know. I think it’ll get harder the closer we get. They’ll have wards and surveillance.”
A mortar fighter by the name of Brooke tapped Ray on the shoulder.
“I’m in range. Do you want me to set it up?”
Ray didn’t hesitate.
“I want to get a look at the village with my own eyes first. Can’t risk bombing the kids. We don’t do that, remember?”
“Uh… intel says the kids are bunkered down in their cave. Only combatants out in the rest of the village.”
“Things can change in a few hours.”
“That’s true, but like I said, they have wards and surveillance. Setting up later might give them time to take cover or deploy countermeasures.”
This time Ray hesitated.
“Alright, set it up, Brooke. You sure you’ll be able to remote fire? We’ve had problems before with spirit interference.”
She tapped her helmet.
“Using my best Skill for this one. It’ll get through any interference our I’ll have Benny eat my day old panties.”
“Don’t promise me with a good time, honey buns!” Benny laughed.
“You’re embarrassing Silveraxe in front of the Spekters,” Lewis stage-whispered.
Alin had to stifle a chuckle.
He wasn’t supposed to know any of them, which meant he had to look confused rather than amused at the typical banter between the three long-time friends.
Brooke was new.
She had emigrated to the town from another town through his dad’s program.
From what she had said, Uncle Eron had flown her and several others by carrying a large van.
Apparently, it had been terrifying on account of a thunderbird storm.
She and Benny had just started dating about 3 years ago, which was after the last time he had been to the town to accompany his mom and dad on a working vacation of sorts.
“Hey, I’ll throw in my drawers if it’ll help!” Dre grinned.
“Sorry guys, I’d sweeten the pot, but I’m not wearing any underwear,” Steph said.
Galen cleared his throat.
“Yeah,” Ray grunted. “Set it up.” He gestured for Alin to continue forward while Brooke quickly assembled her hand-crafted mortar set from her bag of holding.
The gray allowed Alin to keep a proverbial eye on everyone as the formation slowly stretched like taffy.
He was the point of the spear while Ray and Brooke were the ass end.
She worked fast since he had only gone about 200 meters when he noticed them jogging to un-stretch the candy.
Wooden walls made from stout, straight trees loomed through the night mists.
The gray wormed its way in, mingling with the natural mist—
He raised a fist.
The mist in and around the village wasn’t entirely natural.
Just like the scouting report from his dad said.
The mountain people had conjured the mist, imbuing it with hungry, malicious monster spirits.
They sniffed the air like wary dogs, hackles raised at an intrusion they thought they could feel, but couldn’t possibly comprehend.
The gray wrapped tendrils around their necks and squeezed, strangling the life out of them.
The mountain people’s best defensive and early warning system died without so much a whimper.
Alin tightened his leash on the eager gray.
The others had come for a reason.
If he did all the work then they wouldn’t get their share of the leveling and Quest rewards.
A hand signal to Ray and Galen.
The former had overall command because he was the most familiar with the enemy and the environment.
He also had the highest level and most experience.
Another silent signal and the battle really began. Heralded by soft thumps in the distance followed by a high-pitched squeal from above.
Silver dust burst over the entire village, settling over it like a sparkling blanket in the torch light.
Block the cave, please, he thought. Only kids and a few older people and mothers. My dad thinks they can be rehabilitated from what communing with the monster spirits did to them.
He didn’t control the echoes of his relatives like a toy general did his or her miniatures army on the gaming table.
He could only ask and impart his inner desires to them.
The closer they were in mind and purpose the more likely they were to comply and the stronger their efforts would be.
A collective wail rose up from the village.
Malevolent spirits didn’t like the silver dust.
It was like a blast of pepper spray straight into the nose and throat.
“Jesus! Look at that?” Steph thrust his trident toward the palisade. “It was in the scouting report, but seeing it in person is gnarly.”
Spirits in the wood had emerged, turning the hard surface malleable.
Toothy maws and wicked claws snapped and snatched at the nebulous threat on the edge of their perception.
“Alright, less talk and more blowing it up,” Galen said.
They drew grenade launchers from bags of holding.
Thumps sent sealed fire in high arcs.
The spirits screeched as their wood flesh ignited like dry kindling instead of the damp logs that they were.
“Breach it,” Galen said.
Brooke pulled a different custom mortar from her bag.
This time she simply held it in her hands, pointing it at the screeching palisade.
The shot boomed, punching a gaping hole wide enough for a truck to drive through.
That was when the mountain people counterattacked.
Frothing berserkers with grossly distorted bodies of bulging muscles and wriggling veins.
“That’s way too many arms, faces and… well… everything!” Steph grimaced.
The spirits within altered their hosts’ physical forms on the fly.
Except, it didn’t look as smooth as before.
He supposed charging with teeth bared and nostrils flaring wasn’t good for keeping the silver dust out of their insides.
He hit them with a drain. Just enough to cause a stumble.
Guns fired.
Silver bullets perforated toughened skin.
In some cases the skin looked more like armor.
The holes steamed as spirits struggled to stay inside even as the silver dust disrupted their ethereal shapes.
One especially large and grotesque berserker managed to get close enough for blade work.
Ray’s axe flashed in the gloom.
Once, twice, thrice.
Over a dozen spirits wailed as their host perished.
They tried to flee, but just like the rest they couldn’t escape the net of sparkling dust in the air.
Ray grunted.
“Let’s finish this.”
Alin fell to the rear as they charged toward the gap in the burning palisade.
The fires had forced the guards off the wall and they appeared with weapons readied.
Poorly maintained guns barked in a discordant mix of undisciplined shooting.
Ray and his fighters with the exception of Brooke ignored the bullets plinking off their Threnium to calmly return fire as they ran.
Skills had to be in play because one couldn’t shoot and run if they expected any semblance of accuracy.
Brooke’s handheld mortar thumped, scattering the surviving mountain people.
Alin split his focus.
At a thousand meters out in all directions, spirits tried to answer the village’s alarm.
It was a silent one.
Only for the spirits’ ears.
“They’re calling in help from everything in this forest.”
“How much time do we have?” Ray said through the comms as he cleaved through a thick neck.
“Nothing to worry about, yet. I’ll let you know if it changes.”
His echoes held that line, killing spirits by the dozen.
Alin’s third responsibility was keeping tabs on their priority targets.
“They’re pulling guards from Gestalt 2 and moving them to reinforce Gestalt 1 and 3.”
“Sounds like they’re giving up one to buy them time,” Galen said.
Gestalt 2 was the closest one to their position.
“Let’s bypass it. I can guide us to Gestalt 3. If we move fast we can hit the reinforcements before they can link up with the others. Then turn and take out Gestalt 3.”
“I agree,” Ray grunted, planting a boot on a mountain man’s chest to pull his silver-coated axe free from a grotesque skull.
“Alright, let’s do that.” Galen hurried forward. “Dre, with me. We’ll take point.”