“A simple ask. Come close.” Izzik pulled Elach in without warning, then began buzzing whispers into his ear. “The technique requires control and understanding, but with a commanding presence. A call for companionship, yet an irresistible beacon for which the lights must gather. Let the luminance well up, but not out, and spread the sounds of lightblood across the grove. Lights will come to the Elach.”
Elach blinked, not having absorbed any of what Izzik just said. “You’re going to have to explain that a little more, Izzik.”
Izzik cocked his head to the side. “There is nothing else to explain. If the Elach cannot create the technique, the Elach cannot create the technique. It is as simple as that. Now, Izzik has fulfilled the Shar’s condition, and will be taking Izzik’s leave. Izzik will begin in thirty minutes. Have Occril distracted before that time.”
Unable to get another word in as Izzik faded into the shadows, Elach found himself leaning into a wall of moist roots. He pulled his face from the mass with a grimace that deepened when he turned to see Shar focused only on the scorpion. No; focused wasn’t the right word. This was a fixation.
“I’m going to deal with this little roadblock while you try to make sense of Izzik’s words.” Shar ordered. Her mist condensed into a thick scarf, small shards of red Issi floating in the garment like the teeth of shattered saws. “Do you think you could take in the entire scorpion after I’ve dealt with it?”
A quick scan of the scorpion produced a resounding maybe. “I’ll make it work, but why?”
“Call it a theory that I just started working on.” Shar said, her voice now muffled by the thickness of her Issi mist. “If the corpses of Izzik’s people produce naturally produce slaughter Issi, and Occril and the scorpion are mindless husks, then I have a source of power that I won’t feel appalled every time I dip into it.”
Shar tiptoed towards the scorpion, her Issi lying in wait while she drew ever closer. The massive arachnid never turned, fully focused on its feast, and Shar was within arm’s reach before it even noticed. Her Issi buzzed around her in a constant stream, jagged shards wrapped within bloody mist inching ever closer to the scorpion’s tail. The collection of perfect spheres stood unmoving over the rest of the monster’s body, a wicked point of sandy beige pointed down at its snack.
It fell without resistance.
Shar’s Issi cleanly severed the tail between two spheres, pulling the appendage away from the scorpion as it screeched in pain and whirled around to face her. Massive pincers of sand-like Issi swirled into being over the scorpion’s hands, dripping grains like broken hourglasses to the dirt below swung directly at where Shar had been moments ago. She jumped back the moment her Issi touched the monster’s tail, and the pincers did nothing but spray her with sand.
The scorpion shrieked in anger and launched itself at Shar, a tidal wave of sand rising in its wake. Shar spread her hands and let her mist extend into a sphere of whirling death, the scorpion’s claws digging into the defensive technique with a massive spray of sand that concealed the fight from Elach’s eyes. His Issi senses were similarly overwhelmed, a mass of bloody mist and shifting sands forming into one formless glob that he couldn’t make heads or tails of. But he trusted Shar to make good on her word, crouching down to try and decipher Izzik’s cryptic instructions.
“Control yet understanding, with a commanding presence.” He muttered, pulling as much Issi out of his container as he felt comfortable with. His pathways strained under their new burden, but he needed this power. “A call for companionship; a beacon for the lights.”
Elach called on Flow, and their music flowed through the bond like liquid fire. A passion-filled song that burned away any chance at ignorance, and an invitation to sing with Flow. With a massive hole for Elach’s accompaniment. He let Flow take the reins, pressing his Issi into the empty space they’d left for him. His chains rang in resonance, the bell-like tones warm and welcoming like a fireplace after a cold winter’s night. But behind that comfort was what Elach was trying to let out.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
No matter how he tried, he couldn’t get past comfort. He couldn’t turn his own Issi into something that truly drew people close, like Flow’s song wanted, and frustration began to well up. He let out a long breath to try and center himself, remembering the last line Izzik had spoken. He needed to let the technique well up, but not out. He needed to be a beacon; a sanctuary, an interest. The wisps he knew were normally skittish, but tame once he learned how not to bother them. Yet he’d never managed to call them. Hollow, Gilt, and Flow had come to him, not the other way around.
Flow’s criticism came at his moment of realization, and had said basically the same thing. He was simply trying too hard, and was coming across to the lights as a beacon of warning. Like the brilliant colours on a poisonous frog, he was telling the lights to stay away.
The song flowed out of Elach like a river, the pull of Issi and music a warmer invitation. It wasn’t comfortable, as nothing in nature truly was, but it was enticing. A tree with massive leaves to rest under during a storm. A deep cave to hibernate in the long months of winter. A stream in spawning season, tantalizingly delicious fish swimming just a little too close to the surface. Enticing to nature, not to him.
Claws slammed into his chest, sharp points pressing against his Issi trying to run him through. Elach wrenched his eyes open and let the song fall, pulling himself up and out of the way. The scorpion lodged itself in the dirt wall for a split second before it dispelled its claws, looking up at Elach with utter hatred in its glowing black eyes. Its severed tail was replaced with sand, a perfect replica that twitched up to him with blinding speed, barely scratching his leg before he chained himself to the other side of the small crossroads.
“Sorry about that.” Shar muttered. She had enough sand coating her clothes for a children’s playground, and her mist had taken on a beige tone. “I tried calling out to you, but you seemed to be in a trance. Was it a successful trance, or a failure trance?”
Elach rubbed at his arms, grimacing at the gritty reminder of how close he’d come to dying. “The second first, then the first second. Hopefully.”
Shar’s blank look faded with a shake of her head. “I didn’t get that, but we don’t have time. How long can you hold the scorpion in place for?”
“Not even two seconds.” Elach said confidently. “It’s already pissed at us, and it seems intelligent. But maybe I could trip it up somehow.”
The scorpion struck in another wave of concealing sand, wide swipes attempting to end both Elach and Shar in one fell swoop. Elach pulled himself up and over the monster once more, meeting up with an even more sand-coated Shar moments later.
“Do it.” Shar ordered. “I’ll create an opening for you.”
Shar took a single step forward, and her mist completely fell away. The shard of chitin fell to the ground, cutting a thin line across the back of her right arm, along with enough sand to leave her standing in a perfect circle. Elach focused his Issi sight on the barely discernible mass in the center of the tide of sand, ready to wrap chains around the scorpion's legs and arms.
The roar Shar belted out shook Elach to his bones, his blood boiling in answer to the call to slaughter. Mist swirled in around Shar’s feet, condensing into a thick liquid that was perfectly see-through. Everywhere it covered was coated in a deep ruby red that gleamed like wet gemstones, bringing with it a sense of overwhelming danger and bloodlust. It was unfiltered slaughter Issi, and it was terrifying.
Elach clutched his chest as his breath left him, stolen away by the avatar of violence that was Shar. He couldn’t imagine her needing his help. The scorpion’s tide of sand fell away, revealing a staggering figure that looked like it had just seen its inevitable end. Shar raised one hand, palm facing to the sky, and a cluttered cloud of shards sprung to life from her coating of Issi. Each one was as dangerous as a master swordsman, and the promise of endings was enough for the scorpion.
It sprayed a puddle of sand down beneath it, concentrated with more light than Elach had seen it use. He felt it reaching out beyond the material, connecting to somewhere else, and he shouted a warning of what was coming.
The scorpion fell to pieces. Long lines of ruby red kept its light from spilling, the chunks falling into the sand that now lead to nowhere. Pincers and tail drained away onto the ground, leaving behind stumps that bled sandy-coloured liquid. They too were quickly sealed in ruby red, the entire bug coated in Shar’s Issi to prevent it from decaying like the pink-filled bug had.
“I knew you didn’t need my help.” Elach laughed awkwardly, trying to get his heart beating right again in the presence of Shar’s power. It took two solid poundings on his chest and a touch of Issi, but it was beating right again in no time. “Why didn’t you do that from the start?”
Shar startled and turned, her expression one of utter surprise. She mouthed a few empty words, her mouth of shards as terrifying as the rest of her. Eventually, she managed exactly three words.
“You’re still standing?”