Argent sat in the darkness of the unknown cellar, shrouded with uncertainty as he clutched the edges of his infected thigh. He didn’t know where exactly they were, he didn’t know what exactly was happening, and he didn’t even know if what he was planning to do was safe. All he knew was that he had to take action, and this was the course he had chosen.
Focusing his mind on the aether, he dipped partially into the plane and then back, straining his willpower to keep himself hovering just between the line of trancing and not. Following the leylines of his energy. Doing his best to feel them moving alongside his arteries, veins, and nerves. He bit his lip as he struggled, finding it a difficult thing to do. Without the obvious ‘black hole’ in his flow caused by the hex venom, Argent doubted he would have been able to consciously determine much of a difference in his condition.
Despite his amateur level of mind and body awareness, he was a proficient arts user, and could at the least determine his capacity and status. Using this to his advantage, he very slowly identified the traces of energy that moved through his leg until they vanished. Sweat dripped from his brow as he stared down at his leg, hands still on either side of it as he remained in that position for nearly half an hour. Argent sank deep in his concentration, oblivious to the time passing around him until he was so drenched in fever sweat that a concerned Julie began to wipe it away with her medical apron.
Taking in a sharp breath as though being woken up suddenly, Argent rolled his head back and stared at the square of light coming from the hatch above, trying to relax his shoulders from the stiffness which had set into them. He was ready.
Well.. As ready as I have the luxury of being.
He thought to himself, wishing that his confidence was a little more concrete.
“Julie, I'm going to try and use arts on my leg. Don’t panic.”
The smaller girl tilted her head from where she stood behind him, cleaning away the last of his perspiration like a concerned doctor. She didn’t seem to understand what there was for her to panic about.
“You can use recovery arts?”
“No.”
Her confusion deepened.
“Then what..?”
“I’m going to try and force the hex to expire by enhancing it with active kai.”
Julie didn’t know what that meant or how Argent intended to do it, but she didn’t like the sound of that one bit.
“You’re going to get hurt!”
“It’s possible.”
“Argent!”
“It’s the only choice I can see, other than waiting.. And i’m not willing to wait. If it’s a choice between sitting here and hoping for help that may never come, or taking a risk for a chance at being the one who can save myself, and possibly save others? Well.. That’s what I would classify as an acceptable risk, given the total circumstance.”
Julie hesitated at his words, clearly struck by them. She didn’t seem willing to refute his determination, but rather questioned the need.
“We don’t know what’s happening yet. It might not be that bad. It might be a misunderstanding.”
“Julie, we woke up locked in a cellar.”
“Maybe someone put us here to keep us safe!”
Argent gave her a look.
“Do you feel safe?”
“..I do with you here.”
The girl muttered defiantly under her breath, too low for Argent to catch the words.
“Say again?”
“Nevermind.”
“..Okay, well.. Point being, even IF someone put us here to ‘keep us safe’, the implication there is that risk exists outside. Something is clearly wrong. My friends are somewhere out there, somewhere I'm not. If I can get to them then that’s what I need to do. The same goes for you and your sister.”
“..I know…”
“..But you’re scared?”
Julie nodded her head. Argent nodded back.
“That’s how these things go. It’s alright to be scared. It’s alright to feel however you need to.”
“You don’t seem scared..”
“Oh, I am. I’m scared, and I'm hurting. I’m worried about Gauge. I’m worried about Izadura, and Kotomi. I’m worried for the village and your sister, too. There’s a lot inside my head right now and very little of it is positive.”
Feeling his pulse rise sharply as he openly acknowledged the many problems rolling through him, Argent paused and took a deep breath. Slowly, he breathed in through his nose for four seconds, held it for the same, and slowly exhaled until his lungs were empty.
“My mother always taught me; Feeling something and acting on it are two different things. We all feel. It makes us who we are. She told me to feel my feelings, to allow them, to process them– but not to become them. To let them pass and, afterwards, act intelligently. To act with integrity.”
He smiled a bit, lost in memory.
“Being able to experience your emotions strongly while not permitting them to control you is the purest form of strength; She would say.”
When he opened his eyes, he found Julie staring at him. Clearing his throat and pulling himself back to the moment, Argent looked down to the cursed flesh in his leg. It was starting to ache without the anesthetic from the bandages, but he tightened his grip all the same.
“I’m starting.”
“..Okay.”
***
Splintering wood smashed through the alleyway as the hulking fist of the Elder Golem swept through the corner of a house as though it were nothing more than a pile of twigs. Izadura moved quickly through the narrow lane, skirting the edges of town as best he could as he fought to outmaneuver the shambling masses of dominated townsfolk. It was as if they always knew where he was, constantly seeking him, like a pack of homing snails. Their limited movements were not fast nor threatening– but their consistent pace of approach made it easy to forget about them until they were right on top of him again.
Something which likely meant death for them, as their former leader and elder held absolutely no regard for their lives in his current state, turning them into massive collateral losses. The homes and businesses of the village were not any safer, despite Izadura’s active efforts to keep unnecessary destruction to a minimum. So far he had managed to do relatively well by keeping the Elder on a loop through a far corner of town, but the constant circling and mobility was starting to wear the swordsman down.
I will be unable to sustain this for much longer…
His thought echoed through the link to his partner, her own words chiming back across the mental space.
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Understandably. You aren’t getting any room to breathe, that thing is too aggressive.
Aggression is not the issue.
Tireless aggression most certainly is~
Mm.. It has yet to slow at all.
Izadura leapt over a swing from the golem as it caught up to him yet again, spinning back in the air to kick off against the creature’s shoulder while slashing at the side of its face. Foul, discoloured blood spurted from the wound as the golem attacked again in total disregard of its injuries, Izadura sliding low to evade before taking off running once again.
That itself doesn’t add up. If this is some sort of flesh enhancement, it should have burned out the Elder’s corpse by now. There’s no way that old codger had THIS much life-force in him.
Izadura only huffed uncomfortably in agreement, going silent even inside their thoughts as his breathing became heavier once again. The swordsman certainly didn’t slack on his cardio, but he had been engaged in touch-and-go conflict with the Elder now for over thirty minutes. Fighting and running at full force was exhausting enough even in shorter, everyday engagements. Operating at this level for this amount of time was something impossible to achieve without the supplementation and support of physical arts.
There were limits to everything of course, and even with Kotomi’s bond Izadura was starting to wear himself down. He needed to cut back on the active demands involved in the scenario. Most specifically the trailing mob of mindless villagers. Flicking the blood from Kotomi’s edge, he spun her neatly back into her sheath with a dull clink.
“I need you to come back.”
Her form shimmered, shifting from weapon to girl. She was breathing heavily herself, her hair ruffled as she looked up at her companion in questioning.
“Why?”
“I want you to contain the villagers.”
The two looked back, in the distance the gaggle of townsfolk were just barely visible around the edge of a half destroyed structure. Kotomi saw what Izadura intended, noting that due to their consistent circular path the majority of the group had ended up packed together in a mob. Their positioning would make it a simple matter to sweep most of them up at once and incapacitate them.
With a dutiful nod, Kotomi shot off towards the sides and cut back along their path to meet the townsfolk while Izadura again engaged with the Elder. The golem was growing privy to the motions and tactics from the pair, clearly smarter than a simple lump of meat and muscle. While still extremely violent in its methods of attack, it was more wary now, more cunning. It feinted and anticipated, looking to catch Izadura in a killing blow.
The swordsman gave the creature no such opening, adapting himself to the Elder in kind. The two were learning each other simultaneously, clashing together and then breaking apart. The advantage of speed and skill tilted in Izadura’s favour, however, the Elder held the torch in terms of tenacity and power. There was no fatigue in his hulking form. No limitations from pain or fear. Only a reckless, overwhelming desire to destroy.
In the distance beyond, Kotomi arrived at her objective and reached deep to harness the world energy she needed.
“Arren shaal, juo’sa reila yod ima’sa sheviira.”
Her words echoed as her arts manifested. Water swept forth in a torrential grasp which pulled the villagers to the side as though a wave dragging them out to sea. Whirlpooling to center them in a way that kept them together, the liquid receded rapidly in order to freeze them solid at the waist. They fumbled and struck at the ice, but given their limited functionality escape would not be a problem anytime soon.
She hurried back to Izadura, finding him locked in fierce combat with the golem. The ground around the creature seemed to rot as it lunged and leapt, attempting to crush the swordsman. The grass around the central area Izadura had chosen as his battleground wilted and died, the soil darkening as foul golem blood spilled acrost it. But the Elder did not stop. Regenerating again and again no matter how many times Izadura struck.
His mastery of weapons platforms other than a sword was clear, as he fought again with the knuckle weapons he had wielded prior to Kotomi’s shift. The sheer difference in size made it difficult for Izadura to employ certain hand-to-hand techniques, but it was not as though he didn’t have moves meant for monsters as well. Keeping himself tight to the Elder’s armspan, he sought to keep the golem from moving any more than it took to attack him, as he circled low and navigated around its blows in ways that kept his own wrists touching against the pulsating muscles of his opponent. Reading the flow of its movements and shifting just enough to avoid being smashed or grabbed, before retaliating with a heavy blow aimed at the creature’s stomach or head whenever it was in reach.
Digging into a pouch, Kotomi pulled out a duo of bottles between her fingers and snapped the corks off of them, tossing her ponytail back as she downed both potions together. Her shuriken-shaped hair ornament glimmered in the firelight of the blazing town as the first hints of sunrise peeked over the far mountains. This was going to be it, one way or another.. It was do or die.
“..Spirits, guide us.. Our Lady of Silver, bless my path with the last of your light.”
***
[Enhance Reaction]. Argent manifested the unique art as he pressed his hands into his thigh, grimacing from both pain and exertion. While it was true that his ability could be used to enhance any reaction or synergy– chemical, alchemical, magical or mundane– using it to directly interact with world energies outside of bottled solutions was not something Argent typically did. Dominantly he utilized the art to enhance the effects of his alchemy and inventions.
Luckily, targeting the hex venom in his thigh felt similar to the way he might focus the art into a solution inside a container... But the truly complex part came next, after finding the reaction and beginning to interact with it. Triggering the enhancement, he winced as the venom surged dramatically in power, nearly shorting out his casting as it shot upwards through his leg. Before it could reach his core and yet again devour every ounce of his energy, Argent grit his teeth and quickly manifested again.
[Kai Mirroring.] As fast as it had gained effectiveness, the venom lost it. Stopping cold as time stood still, the power reeling through Argent’s body as though confused about how to behave. It sat in its place as though considering the command it had been given, simmering in his veins before suddenly erupting into action.
Argent bit his own tongue hard enough to draw blood as his mouth slammed involuntarily shut from the pain, falling backwards into a curled ball as he screamed through his throat. The muted sound exiting him around a tightly closed mouth full of crimson as his bleeding seeped from his lips. He convulsed and curled inwards, suffering on the wet dirt of the cellar floor as Julie watched in horrified silence, but his hands remained determinedly clamped against his leg, his fingertips clawing into the skin.
As the mirroring took effect, Argent realized he had made the wrong assumption. He had hoped that, by targeting the venom with [Enhance Reaction] and then mirroring it, the result would have been to stop the reaction rather than increase it. Effectively cutting the venom off at the source while surrounding it with enough direct world energy to cause it to dissipate.
What appeared to happen instead, was an enhanced mirroring of the venom itself. The kai-devouring curse twisted and reformed, beginning to generate energy rather than consume it. [Kai Mirroring]’s potency increased exponentially with [Enhance Reaction] in such a way that the raw energy flooded Argent’s body like a river attempting to flow through a single crack in a dam. His leg turned red, then purple and nearly black as blood vessels burst from the strain. The venom was destroyed, that much was certain, but it very nearly felt like his body would be next in line as the power in his form peaked; filling to capacity and then some.
Argent knew what the consequences of draining one’s arts capacity to nothing were, but he had never thought about the possibility of overfilling it. In between the waves of excruciating pressure coursing through him, he thought of stories he had heard about the Riftlands. Places where the residual influence of Chaos was so strong that kai filled the air like a miasma. How had he not put that together sooner? The oversaturation of kai had been no less lethal than a toxic gas, as those who were exposed to it reportedly suffered a range of symptoms from loss of movement to abrupt conflagration.
In the century prior to the years of stability, prior to Lilith, there had been a high demand amongst the ranks of those who fought in the Chaos Wars for ‘Anchors’. Crusaders, or Paladins, they had often been called due to their typically religious backgrounds or affiliations. Archetypical knight figures who, through their command of Order, literally stabilized the world around them like focal points for existence itself.
Before the rifts had been stopped, their presence was critical for any party who sought to venture beyond the southern calms. Time and space had been… Different, then. It was one of those things that people still did not understand and likely never would. Endless anecdotes about the passing of time being altered in strange ways, the flows of events inverting beyond the rifts, people leaving for years and returning as though they had been gone a day. Regions switching places, dungeons looping inside one another, endless fields and forests that touched the sky.
As Argent thought about it, he also thought that it was a strange thing to be thinking about as he potentially died, but he couldn’t help it. He had no influence over where his mind chose to go. Visions and scraps of awareness hit him in waves as he edged on the line between awake and away. He remembered school, he remembered home, he remembered everything and nothing. It alarmed him in a sense, how familiar these existential crises were becoming to him now… But being alarmed wouldn’t do him any good, would it?
His chest would no longer decompress, his lungs and diaphragm seized in place as the trail of broken veins spidered up his chest and down his left arm, concentrating around his heart. Argent couldn’t even scream anymore as his vision stained pink from the blood in his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling, up at Julie, regretting the outcome but not questioning his decision. He had been aware of the risk involved, even if the actual result had been far outside the scope of his anticipation.
… And then bit by bit the pain started to ease. Air entered his chest as his muscles gave way, rising and falling in quick, short gasps. He could barely move, the left side of his body felt numb. If he couldn’t see his fingers twitching slightly in response to his attempts to shift them, he’d have believed he was paralyzed. Julie immediately moved to his side as soon as he started breathing.
“What happened??”
She cried, looking aghast at the state his body was in. There was so much internal damage that blood was seeping between his muscles and the dermal layer, giving him the swollen appearance of a grotesque water balloon, or an overstuffed sausage. It was painful, but Argent couldn’t help but grin through his mouth full of blood. The hurt was entirely different than it was when caused by the hex venom.
“I did it..”
He managed to force out, closing his eyes against the light of the hatch above.
“I found an answer.”