Chapter 20
The Founder
“Who…who is he?”
“Where did he come from?” Vivian gasped. Meredith shut her eyes at the pain, and she wept. She wasn’t alone. Behind her, within Vivian’s bow, Kyle was crying his own tears, uttering a babble of farewells. His reason was all too obvious when Terrill stood before each of them, plain as day to see.
It had startled everyone in the room, including Marcus, who blinked.
“No…Terrill…no…” Meredith sobbed, unable to stop the ugly noises from leaving her mouth. Her tears were falling down her face, into her mouth. She tried desperately to move, but her body rebelled against her, its pain making her paralyzed. “Don’t do this…please…”
“It’s too late, Meredith. I’ve made my choice. My peace.” Terrill stood tall, taking the Earth-Splitter in both of his hands before him. His stance was that of a hero, blinding in his radiance. Where he stepped, he raised others, and each step was as an earthquake signaling his arrival. So large was his threat, that Marcus took his blade out, holding it at the man. “I’m sorry, but this is the only way I can protect your future.”
“Only at the cost of your own! I can’t…I can’t watch someone else fall…I can’t…”
Terrill took short steps over to her, bending down to put a hand upon her head. Feeling it there, stroking her hair as a father would his daughter’s, she could do nothing but let the tears fall. Then he faced Marcus. The man, ever-composed, finally showed an ounce of fear at the unknown element before him.
“What are you?” he said. His hands weren’t shaking, but Meredith could hear it in his voice, how Marcus didn’t know what to do. All his plans. All his machinations. They had been rendered a mess by the appearance of that one man.
“You mean you aren’t aware? What a pity,” Terrill spoke. He spun the blade in his hands, gleaming in the fires. “All this time you’ve searched for us, but never knew us for what we are. Are souls worth that little to you?”
“What would you care?”
“Because I am a soul,” Terrill informed him. “The soul of the very weapon you tried to wrest away from Meredith. Did you think I’d let you do it?”
“Impossible!” Marcus snapped, his face contorted in anger. He had broken the veneer of control he had over the situation, and to that, Terrill smirked. To Meredith, it was confirmation that her mentor had the upper hand, having forced Marcus to let his emotions run wild. “Souls have no substance without a body! They’re intangible! Seen only by those with Soul Magic!”
“Did you think us defenseless, Marcus? Reaper?” Terrill took yet another shuddering step, but Meredith felt no fear in it. “Did you think a soul so small? We are numerous. Everywhere. In everything. Though, you are right that under normal circumstances we would not manifest as whole, corporeal beings. That takes a true will of strength…the last act of a soul’s will, in fact. My last act.”
“So, you’ve sacrificed your soul to protect your blade?” Marcus asked. His snarl became laughter, finding ironic humor. “It’s folly. You cannot stand, and when you fall, your blade will be left inert, unable to do anything. There is no future you will protect from here on out.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Terrill said. His breathing was steady, calm, like the bedrock that never shook nor wavered. “I will return to the Earth-Splitter, my soul but a plaything for your wicked schemes. But that does not mean I will not protect anything. I swore long ago that I would protect no matter the cost. I learned that the hard way.
“And you will pay for it.”
Marcus’s laughter twitched at his lips, back to not liking the man before him as he held his sword. “Who are you?”
There was a pause, and Meredith waited, knowing the answer that was coming while Terrill touched his forehead to his blade and breathed. When he looked up, his eyes flashed with his violent intent and his protective instinct. Marcus recoiled.
“I am Terrill Jacobs, founder of the Guardian Corps,” he declared. The Guardians that remained, as well as the Lacardian students, were transfixed in shock at the proclamation. Even Marcus lowered his sword a moment. “The future I choose will be hewn in stone. I will etch it. I will not let you take it from them.”
“Founder…?” Marcus uttered, his face drawn in surprise. Terrill gave him no quarter to consider further.
“Stone Prison.” Terrill slammed his foot upon the ground. Before Marcus could react, the walls of earth sprang around the former chief commander, encasing him and making him play for the founder. Terrill dashed forward, his fist cloaked in stone as he raced for the center, where Marcus was. With that fist, he smashed through the prison of his own making. Marcus flew out the other side, clasping his jaw as he righted himself upon the floor.
“You’re the founder of the Corps?!” Marcus shouted. His body became light and he zipped to the side, fast as ever until he reached behind Terrill. The Earth-Splitter held no worry, and he held his blade behind him in unyielding stoicism. Marcus’s blade made contact with it and bounced off as Terrill turned around to engage him. “Does that mean you’re the one to blame for how this world became? How the Corps became?!”
“I cannot control the actions or wills of others.” Marcus scoffed, disbelieving of that notion as he stabbed his blade forward with a shot of light. Terrill deflected it with little effort.
“That’s a lie! It’s our duty to lead! And for those of us with Soul Magic, we need to guide the world away from their mistakes. Force it if we must!” Marcus leapt back, and once more became a light that tried to blindside Terrill. The man wasn’t fooled. He observed, and saw what was coming. “You must have been unable to do that, and over the years, the Corps weakened and crumbled from your mistakes!”
“You’re right,” Terrill said. The admission caught Marcus off-guard, allowing Terrill the opportunity to enact his next strike. His foot pounded the ground, and Meredith felt it become uneven. Marcus was off-balance, as were all the others in the room, but Terrill remained steady, calm amidst the shaking and squirming of the floor. The very earth was undulating between them, but Terrill walked on like it was a flat surface. “I made mistakes in my leadership. I can admit my failures. Yet why do I see before me a man who fancies himself leader, but will not admit to his own shortcomings?”
“The failures of the Corps were not mine!” Wind came out from the Reaper’s hands, allowing him to leave the tremulous and unstable ground. Terrill didn’t care. He slashed his blade up, and from the churning floor came rotating spires of earth, like drills that aimed to deflate Marcus’s entire body.
“And there is proof of your failures.” The drills became fluid, lifting towards the ceiling, where Marcus perched himself for a second. He blitzed off with light again, barely avoiding the attack that pierced the surface with minimal effort. Terrill prepared for his approach. “Instead of admitting your inability to change things as a leader, you blame everyone else for your failure. The reality, Marcus, is that as the chief commander, you should have changed things, yourself.”
“I am changing things!” Marcus called, his sword extended in front of him in order to impale Terrill. The Earth-Splitter sighed and his fist lashed out. This one found its mark, crashing into Marcus’s face and planting him in the ground. The shockwave from the strike pushed Meredith back, her body unable to do anything but watch as the two titans engaged one another. Marcus flipped out, his face bleeding as one of his fists closed. “I’ll make it that all will follow my lead and my will, to end the threat to this world.”
“Is that all you think it will take?” Terrill walked forward, and Marcus reacted. Gravity pulled together all the metal chunks around the hangar where they were battling, creating an ovular shield to protect him from the next assault. Pulling to a halt, Terrill sighed, a lamentable chuckle exiting his lips. “Of course, you do…”
“What does that mean? Answer me, founder!” Marcus was spitting, his apoplectic face not at all representing the person he showed to the world, either as the chief commander or as the Reaper. “What would you have done any different? Your Corps had become a wound on the world! You can’t cure poison with a better leadership!”
“And so, you prove me right once again,” Terrill said. He found the situation amusing, a fact which infuriated Marcus. The chief commander pushed his shield at Terrill, the metal whirring as a buzzsaw to slice the man in two. “Very well. Chief Commander Marcus, you are unfit to lead the Guardian Corps. You are unfit to guide the future through your selfish aims. As your founder, I shall see you put in the dirt.”
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Words were useless to the two men.
Just as Marcus’s whirring saw was about to bisect Terrill, the founder held his hand out, and in seconds, turned it into sand. Another motion later, and that sand had whipped up into a great storm, blowing Meredith’s body back into those of her friends. It was an extraordinary sight, one that no one she ever knew today could accomplish, yet one that Terrill manipulated with ease. He dove into the center of his swirling storm, where Marcus was forced on the defensive.
Their blades were light, glinting in the center of the storm as they whirled and clashed. Meredith lifted her head, trying to move her body to crawl forth, but finding herself unable to. She knew she didn’t need to worry, watching as Terrill used his sword in a display of mastery. Minimal movement was wasted with every strike. He thrusted, parried and ducked under every blow that Marcus made within the sandstorm. The man was no stranger to combat, and it showed in every action taken. Bit by bit, the sandstorm began to subside, showcasing the two combatants and their duel in the middle of the hangar, going at it. At one point their blades locked, and Terrill, ever the pragmatist, planted his foot and swung a kick to nail Marcus in the side.
With the Reaper distracted, Terrill leapt back, placing his hand to the ground. Like her own, the stone dragon emerged from beneath his feet, allowing him to ascend upon it. Marcus turned his attention immediately to the threat that was before him and raised his hand.
“Explode!” Terrill had expected exactly that course of action the second he was in the air. His feet leapt above it as the dragon burned with anger and burst into many small pieces. Marcus prepared to attack once more, but Terrill was faster. From his position in midair, he clenched a fist. The rubble turned to sharp darts, each thinner and more deadly than the last, before he sent them catapulting downwards towards his foe. Marcus pulled back, his own sword shining with light that he thrusted towards the descending rocks. “Stars!”
From the tip of his sword came shining stars of light, swirling and orbiting around the air to collide with the rocks. Terrill dropped down, bending the earth to his own will to allow him to land safely. The rain of dust and debris put no halt to his movement, only ever a distraction for him to get back, racing for Marcus’s side. The Reaper didn’t care for that. The black beam that Meredith had seen once before, having been used on her brother, formed in Marcus’s hands, and he fired it off with impunity, not even waiting for Terrill to realize.
Terrill didn’t care.
“Stone Shield.” His command was simple, and heeded by the ground beneath his feet. From nothing, the earthen barrier was created between him and Marcus. The dark beam raced for that very shield and Meredith tried to scream for Terrill to move, but couldn’t get the words out. Terrill, however, was still very much on top. He vaulted himself upwards with pillars of stone, grabbing to the top of his shield, which Meredith now realized was angled.
The Dark Gasp slammed into it, chewing a hole straight through it, weakening the integrity of the entire structure. It came straight out the other end, barreling along the hangar for the doors and breaking them off their hinges. A chilled breeze blasted into the hangar, sending the flames on to the walls while some were extinguished. Marcus’s attack vanished into the smoke-filled night sky, but Terrill remained on the attack. He swung down, forcing Marcus to block, and bend a knee against the weight of the strike.
Terrill flicked his sword back up, slicing upon Marcus’s arm, drawing blood. Marcus made no noise, but the grimace on his face told Meredith the pain he suddenly felt.
“Grah!” he roared, like a wounded animal, lashing at the first thing in his sight. He slashed with his weapon, missing Terrill entirely. The founder looked down at him, regarding him with lonely eyes. He brought a hand up, and with it was a spire that pierced Marcus’s side, sending him far up into the air. The man hacked violently, and as his body twisted around, Meredith could tell.
For the first time this entire invasion, Marcus was afraid he’d fail.
“Light, come!” The Reaper’s body flared with light like it never had before, his wound attempting to stitch itself up, but causing him pain while his spell took effect around him. He sprung towards the ceiling, just barely touching to it before the surface broke apart and he zoomed for Terrill. The Earth-Splitter held his sword, and when Marcus was upon him, he put his blade at just the right angle to toss him down, through a hole in the floor. Terrill refused to budge from his spot after doing so, and in seconds, Marcus was back up, his sword set to pierce Terrill. “Is that all? You think that will outsmart me?! Your soul is mine!”
“No. My soul is mine alone.” Terrill put his sword upward, the blade shining across his face as he spun its hilt. “This world’s soul is not yours, either, Reaper. Nor is the Corps.”
“The Corps as you created it is dead!” Marcus reached Terrill, prepared to plunge his blade through, but Terrill put a stop to it. A clot of earth suddenly manifested, and the blade became stuck inside. “There’s nothing you can do about that future now.”
There was glee in Marcus’s voice, and it wasn’t hard to tell why. Already, Terrill had grown translucent. He could still maintain form, but his soul was slipping back inside, becoming dormant. Meredith could see it with her Soul Vision, those bits and pieces of him beginning to be sucked back to his blade.
She also saw another soul, fast approaching from below, which she knew quite well. There was no time to inform Terrill, but he, in turn, made his own grand statement.
“You’re right. Your apathetic Corps is dead, the one you allowed to become the way it was,” Terrill told the man. His arms drew back, preparing his next spell. One of his last. “But the future of the Corps is not you and your new vision. It’s the people who still hold to and respect the ideals that I forged. Those Guardians that looked up and aspired to something greater than themselves. Those who looked at the world and decided to see the good in it, no matter the bad.
“They chose hope and the future.”
“There is no hope in the future but by my hand! I was chosen for this by the goddess, and I will see it done,” Marcus spat. With a crumbling of the stone he was stuck in, he withdrew his blade. The radiance was blinding as he readied his own final strike against the one man that could stop him.
“There’s no such thing, goddess or no. Life is made by our own choices. The future will be driven by those choices, as will the Corps.” Marcus thrust forward, and at the same time, so did Terrill. As they both did, a shadow was lifted up out of the hole in the floor, high above their heads. “That’s why your Corps ends today. To make way for a true one. For their future…
“One that I will ensure you never grasp hold of.”
The ground shook. What remained of the ceiling above came crashing down around them, plaster and stone exploding in dust. A squall of winds arrived to blow it all aside, and Meredith could see Amelia falling back down, cut and bruised, but very much alive as she flew down for Marcus.
“You liar!” she shouted, her hand having become a claw of wind. Marcus hadn’t seen her coming, too focused on Terrill, even with mastery over so many souls. The Tempest Commander found her mark, the claw slicing across her previous leader’s face. He grunted, changing the trajectory of his sword upwards to slash against Amelia’s cheek. The woman stumbled back.
Terrill at last struck.
“Goodbye, Marcus the Reaper. Goodbye…my precious Guardian Corps. STONE DRILL!” His yell raised great pieces of earth out of nothing, all the pieces coming together and beginning to whirl about with a sharp tip. Those that were there, watching in awe, gave a small cheer, the only thing they could do, when the drill impaled Marcus.
“Guack!” Marcus spat blood from his mouth, flying towards the edge of the hangar doors, his entire chest bleeding profusely. His eyes were wide as the stone broke away around him, its momentum fading as he landed at the edge of the barrier between the hangar and the outside. His feet remained still a moment, the former chief commander yet standing.
Amelia got up, watching her former friend, blood flowing down her face, when the man hacked again, spitting more blood to ground. She turned away from him, spurning his once-made offer to approach those that remained. The first thing she saw were Meredith’s legs, bent at an impossible angle, the girl now realized. No words could be said, but Meredith didn’t look at her. She watched Marcus.
“Well…met…Terrill…Jacobs…” Marcus grinned, despite his grievous injuries. Then his hand let go, dropping his once great sword amidst the burning flames, and he fell out of the hangar. “See you…again…”
The great screech that followed told Meredith that Marcus hadn’t plummeted to his death, and with it, she hung her head. Looking back at Terrill, as everyone was doing, she was reminded of the price paid, his body almost transparent now.
“I’m sorry…it was all I could do to wound him. It will take time to heal, but…”
“But time is what was bought,” Amelia said, standing to her full height. She was confused, as was everyone there, but she came near the founder of the Corps, reaching out to take his hand. He refused, shaking his head.
“No. My role ends here, commander. Thank you for protecting what I once held dear. For protecting the future,” Terrill told her. His body was all but gone, and with what strength yet remained in the man, he raised his blade high above his head, the end pointed downwards. “Now, get them out. There will still be a battle to be fought, but I will not be the one to fight it.”
“Terrill…” Meredith groaned, her lips barely able to form the words. He stopped his movement to look down at her, and he smiled.
“It’s okay, Mera. This is my choice.” She knew that. Knew it with all her heart and soul. It didn’t stop the tears from falling. “Thank you for being my companion. I could have asked for no better. You are always the Guardian I envisioned for this world.”
“Please…stay…” Meredith sobbed out. She felt Amelia’s hand on her back, comforting her despite not knowing why.
“I very much wish I could. My love to the others, Mera,” Terrill said. There was finality in his voice, and before she could say more, he began to plunge the Earth-Splitter back down into the floor. “Live, Meredith Childs! Live on no matter what! No matter what despair you face! No matter the tests before you! Even if you think the road ahead is impossible to walk, you need to live!
“It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to lean on someone else. Just choose your future, and always…always find hope in that future. Promise me, Mera. Promise me!”
She had nothing else to give. No eloquent speech as his sword stabbed the ground. No great declaration that she once held before her journey began. Her blustering was gone. Her pride was shattered. All Meredith Childs had left were her tears and two words that she sobbed into the rumbling castle.
“I PROMISE!” Her wail echoed all around, and her eyes watched until the very end. Terrill smiled.
“Farewell.”
Seconds later, as Corps Castle began to crumble around them, the result of Terrill’s last living act in the world, his soul vanished back inside the Earth-Splitter. The blade dropped through the cracks, falling below to an unknown fate.
Terrill Jacobs’s journey in this world, after a thousand years, was complete.