Pacing up and down the icy passages of the palace, Foot-Soldier Lumi scowled.
Territory Four’s boundless waters were visible through a translucent section of the turquoise walls. They frothed and slapped themselves against the bobbling glaciers, as if attempting to knock the Frost Sect out of the sea. One of Maris’ constant attacks, no doubt.
The hallways themselves were grand and sprawling. They would have been chilly enough to evoke hypothermia in any other circumstances, but Lumi’s Mark, dashing across her forehead, kept her immune to any potential dangers. It was one of the few passive effects of her Mark, in use even when inactive. Biting her nails, white hair spilling down her back, Lumi waited. Waited and waited for all hell to break loose.
Jumpy clansmen passed around her in similar states of disarray, stress seeming to have seized the entire clan. Maris had been quiet — too quiet — for far too long now. All Passing, the desperate God-Graced had been throwing all sorts of bizarre tactics at the wall, seeing if any would stick. Alas, thank their god Jokull, Lumi’s clan had held steadfast. But up until now, they had only faced minor schemes. Terrifying, yes, but contained.
Explosives, intruding forces, tidal waves. Merely a few of the sadistic woman’s mad ploys. They hadn’t been too effective, with the bombed areas being evacuated, the attacking squad captured and swiftly eliminated, as well as the combined power of their Marks freezing over the approaching wave. Yet they had all arrived in rapid succession, in a matter of days. Sometimes less. This bombardment was the crux of Maris’ plans.
Or so it had seemed, up until this Duration of relative silence.
Sure, the waters were as vicious as ever, and their standard skirmishes still occurred daily. But where were the elaborate exploits? Nowhere to be seen.
Lumi fought the temptation to slam her head against the wall, composing herself. This was either a mental game, involving Maris attempting with much success to make them paranoid, or, she was negotiating something much bigger. Something worth sacrificing so much time on.
Walking to the training grounds, simply to have something to do, Lumi drew from the moisture of the environment with a flick of the hand. It solidified into an icy halberd in her grip. Armour of the same material adorned her in a flush of water, constantly fluctuating between states so as not to shatter at the slightest impact. As it were, the uniform suited Lumi’s every dexterous movement, constantly adapting between pure water to sheets of fractured rime.
Hopefully, she would find herself another like-minded clansman to brawl with. Entering the spherical expanse at the very depths of the glacier, Lumi’s wishes were met, and exceeded.
A man draped in a cloak that only served as a tripping hazard strolled to the centre of the expanse. At his side, an entire patrol of guards eyed every angle with dark suspicion. As if within every inch of ice, a potential assassin may be lying in wake.
With growing awe, Lumi watched the clan’s leader concentrate his will. Featureless sculptures of — could you guess it? — ice materialised from him in dancing flakes. They all armoured themselves with a varying array of weapons: rapiers, crossbows, truncheons, and curved, crudely cut daggers.
Tushar looked upon them all blankly, didn’t bother to conjure any weaponry of his own, and ordered the wary brigade to stand aside. A billowing whirlpool of snowflakes streaked across the room, the second the mannequins took one step forward. With a bored expression, Tushar didn’t even bother to raise his arms. The snow amassed around the summoned fighters with suffocating volume. After a few seconds of visible struggle, the dummies finally gave out. The sound of broken glass reverberated all around, and the man lowered his head to the scattered debris with unspoken disdain.
“We’ll have to make these opponents tougher.” Tushar said dryly, in the tone one would suit when delivering a sarcastic comment. “Far, tougher. See to it immediately.”
The guards saluted. Based on their charmed expressions, every word uttered out of his mouth was a grand blessing. “Yes, Sir!”
Not doing so much as looking at the detritus littering the floor, he clicked a finger. The frost dispersed into water, which swiftly vanished.
It was the quickest training session Lumi had ever witnessed. Not dawdling, the sect leader quickly made for the nearest exit. Which just so happened to be the one Lumi was occupying. She almost didn’t hear his words.
“Is something amiss, young lady?” He asked, face emotionless as always.
Realising she was blocking up the main way out, Lumi stuttered nonsensically before settling herself. “Apologies, my Lord. Dread has seemed to slow me down substantially.”
“Do not let that fraud Maris bring you stress,” not a strand of Tushar’s pearly white hair was out of line, as she moved out of his way, “she lives in constant fear of my prowess. Why do you think she’s constantly avoiding a direct conflict with me? Maris knows, should we ever draw blades, I would completely, and unequivocally crush her.”
Those words couldn’t have been timed worse.
Wails of distress, from all over the glacier, sent goosebumps shivering through Lumi. Maris had finally come through. A scheme had been set into motion.
A steady drip of water, and she looked up, horrified. The chamber was melting. Tushar took quick notice, and with nothing more than a blink, the ice solidified. Marching ahead, he shot off orders, marshalling the guards into specific locations all across the palace.
“Maris is finally making her final big push for the crown.” He put his fists together, ice forming over them both. “The only option is to defeat her so dramatically, she will live the rest of her days in constant shame. Or, better yet, dead.”
Water sploshed through the chamber, a line of water impaling a clansman through the chest. His arms scrambled madly from side to side, before not at all. Lumi put her hands to her mouth, and it was all she could do to trigger her Mark alongside the rest of the room’s inhabitants. So much imparted will made the chamber as tough as could be. Nothing would get through that invincible sheet. Then, yet again, nothing should have been able to get through into a chamber this deep into one of their glaciers in the first place. Especially with Tushar in the room. Only an individual of equal might would possess the capabilities needed.
Maris had arrived.
“Get back to your standard squad,” Tushar commanded, “and be careful. Something tells me it won’t just be Maris and her men who we’re dealing with.”
Ignoring the pandemonium of noise, Lumi ran out of the nearest exit, immediately stupified by a clash of sudden light. The entire tunnel was leaking, a stream of water lashing at her feet. Fires, oh-so many fires, casted a ghostly blue over the hall, their origin unknowable. Flaring her Mark, Lumi directed pure cool energy towards the azure fires, stifling their onslaught and repairing the hall as best she could.
Her Boundless Vault was designed for dexterous movements as a Featherweight’s Grace Mould, so she glided through a twist of the passage with relative ease. Lumi saw feuding batches of Frost and Water Clansmen, bodies totaling by the minute.
This was a war of attrition no longer. The next monarch of Hybrid would be decided today, and no later.
Lumi leaped upon a solitary pillar, superhuman speed and agility momentarily defying gravity as she sped across it. In much the same manner, she vaulted across the room, doing her best to ignore the raging inferno below. A silhouette sprinted through the bonfire, seemingly unfazed, features masked by the raging fumes. She didn’t pay them much mind, and yet their seeming immunity was suspicious as all hell.
Every passageway she traversed only unveiled yet more destruction. It appeared as if the entire Water Clan’s attacking force had arrived, possibly hundreds of them commanding the ice to disperse. And yet Lumi’s own people were far too preoccupied by the consuming sapphire to do anything about it. At this rate, the glacier would fall.
Screaming, she searched and searched for her squadron. Each possible location proved a dead end, her Infinity reserves running low as Foot-Soldiers and beyond inhaled as deeply as they could of the surrounding supply. In a few seconds of frustrating consideration, she turned back. The pathways of Lumi’s Vault strained as she pushed it to its limit. She would have to confront that flaming shadow herself. They were the one behind these neon streaks, she just knew it.
Her head thumped against a wall, as an eruption of ice and gushing liquid tore the chamber in twain. Knocking her aggressively aside as collateral damage.
When the frost equivalent of dust cleared, the image of Maris biting down into Tushar’s bleeding arm was enough to send her spiralling.
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Her sect leader shrugged the humanoid of moisture away in one broad stroke. Yet another wall shattered, the abundant shrieks refusing to settle.
“I’m going to kill you Maris.” Tushar declared simply, a crazed look in his eyes. “Then I’m going to personally visit the rest of your sect, and deliver them the same fate.”
Maris sank into the water, rising and falling with the currents so that her shape was lost within. “Water will always prevail over snow, my pretty friend,” a voice originating from nowhere in particular giggled, as cracks expanded across every surface in sight, “it's simply a matter of time.”
How Tushar kept his cool was beyond Lumi. Nevertheless, she couldn’t dawdle in this room — merely staying put in the same area as these two beacons of power was a recipe for disaster.
Leaping out of there in a streak of Infinity, Lumi bit her bottom lip as cuts gathered across her back. Daring a risky second’s look behind, nothing could be identified through the eruption of hail. When another gash opened upon her brow, Lumi didn’t linger.
Things had progressed so crushingly fast. Chamber after chamber had caved in, and halls were drowning with water. To the point she saw several Frost Clansmen swimming through. For approximately three seconds, that was, before rogue attackers from the Water Clan tore them to shreds. In their home domain of aqua liquid, Maris’ soldiers needn’t don a physical form. They became one with the fluid, unavoidable predators with no tangible mass.
Lumi watched her peers’ bodies contort as they became disposable husks. And there was nothing she could do about it.
Expending the last of her Infinity, Lumi spent a few seconds prior directing the energy to her Mark. This wasn’t what her Vault was designed for, and without the assistance of inner tubes, it didn’t feel natural. The pathways were like roads, in the fact they made travel much more direct and simple. Sure, you could always walk on foot — or skirt your carriage away from the trodden path — but it was slower. Not nearly as efficient. The same general idea was occurring as her Mark, reinforced by the final drabs of her Infinity storage, froze the flooded room into one huge slab of ice.
Frozen corpses of the Frost Clan hung suspended in the ice, but they weren’t alone. Water clansmen, so smug and braggadocious as they were previously, now were confined in suspended animation. If they would’ve had time to react, no doubt their mouths would be agape in helpless horror.
Lumi commanded spikes of ice to finish them off, without a second’s hesitation. Then, ignoring the urge to scream at the sight of her lost allies, she split the icy cuboid right at the epicentre. A new path formed, and she was through it in a split second.
Right before surfacing to the other side, Lumi grasped at her knees, and allowed herself a moment’s respite. The riotous noise encompassing the battle was an audible sea in its own right, but through the whooshing tides, one distinct sound ahead narrowed her focus.
Crackling flames.
Launching forwards, a breeze of heat fanned across Lumi. The frosty armour enveloping her visibly thawed. Only a thorough extension of her will retained the defensive layer. And even then, flakes refused to stay put.
Lament highlights of that bizarrely blue fire made the chamber a blinding spectacle. Wincing, and looking through a gap between her fingers, Lumi took a moment to take in the environs.
If it was somehow possible, this room was by far the most ravaged. In times now long since passed, it was an ornate antechamber junctioning into a variety of other practical sectors of the glacier. Now, Lumi couldn't recognise an inch through the sea of combatants, a wall of flames, and one poor boy being beaten senseless. Her sympathy guttered out and died there, the second she noticed the azure sparks leaking out of his fingertips.
If he were the one behind this travesty, in any sort of way, he deserved everything that came to him.
The burly man throwing him over and over again upon the floor was substantially bigger. A crowd had gathered to occasionally deliver their own attacks into the torturous mix, and Lumi felt inclined to join them. Speeding into the fray, she almost felt pity for the child. His golden blood was splattered across the icy floor with every additional blow.
In a hoarse cry, he suddenly jolted up, a Mark depicting a god Lumi had never seen engraved across his exposed shoulder. Beginning to glow in a sickening amount of blue and red, the Mark’s activation heralded danger.
The established fires around blazed with new ferocity, shooting upwards an extra few feet. They swept into one whole, a fiery vortex that filled the chamber from floor to dripping ceiling, in a sight that forced Lumi to stop. The humidity she had sensed earlier came crashing down, only heightened by a hundredfold. Frost clansmen raised their hands to intercept the attack before it reached its apex, but, as if materialising from thin air, enemy Water troops prevented their advance.
A wild scream escaped Lumi’s throat, as like a detonated bomb, loops of sapphire shot off from the lone fighter. Everything in sight was incinerated, and nothing but a white light consuming her vision, Lumi could do nought as her entire arm was seized by insidious fire.
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Remus had never wanted to push to such extremities. Truthfully.
But he was bleeding from a score of points across his body, several of his teeth had been smashed into crooked positions, and at least one of his ribs must have been broken. His Mark was working overtime simply to numb the pain. He was teetering on completely guttering out of energy in this final blast of power.
But the other option was being bashed to death by a stout man having a temper tantrum.
Okay, maybe that comment was ill-placed for someone simply trying to protect their home, but Remus’ rage was indiscriminate. In his false ocean of lashing azure, Remus felt the tug of his Oath egging his every act of destruction on. He felt like a dog on a leash, one that linked around his very brain. Addled thoughts were all that he could focus on. The need to survive, to get out of this hell now that irreversible damage had been dealt, sounded so blissfully sweet.
Maris wasn’t spared from his overwhelming ire. Before, as a Death-Marked, he had been a useless, blunted tool to the gods. And now, after so much trial and tribulation to attain a measle of might, barely a thing had changed. He was still a tool — just one that could come in useful every now and then.
He wanted more than anything to be reasonable. After all, Maris would be saving them from certain death at the hands of Nova, but he couldn’t fake sincerity. Not so punchdrunk and high on pent-up anger as he was.
Few projectiles trespassed into his blazing domain. He saw flickers of icy spears dissolve, razored snowflakes disintegrate. A few Infinity-inforced blades stabbed into his flesh, but barely deep enough to bleed. A reliable amount of Ambition was ensuring his defence from blows this distant. Oddly, in the eye of his personal storm, no noise other than that he generated himself reached his ears. It was either lost in his billowing tornado, or he must have subconsciously filtered out their desperate voices. He didn’t want to hear them scream.
So much for not hurting anyone, Remus thought bitterly. With people this eager to dice him into smithereens, being choosy with how he dealt with the opposition wasn’t an option.
Remus would be dead by now, without Maris’ forces suffering the brunt of the Frost Clan’s forces. The notion that he was Maris’ only ace up her sleeve now sounded beyond idiotic, even to just the small fraction of his brain not preoccupied with strain.
A minute later, sensing inexorable pain finally creeping past his failing pain suppressant, Remus didn’t have any focus to spare on idle deliberation. Once this final strip of energy faded into a hollow lethargy, it was all over. Stretching these reserves to their absolute limit, to secure him as much time as possible, was the only objective worth fixating on.
Another minute in this blazing abyss. An additional minute so strenuous, his every muscle trembled, but he latched onto every passing second like the key to ascending the Divine Ranks.
Death was not an option. Death was failure, Death was-
As a tidal wave fluttered out his bonfire, only one of the chills that went up Remus was because of coolness. What was happening? Had the Frost Sect found a means to incapacitate him at last? Reaching out to his Mark, Remus attempted to trigger the divine gift into action yet again. Fire wouldn’t last a second in this tsunami, of course, but increased endurance in case anything came crashing his way would be hugely helpful.
The Mark did nothing but fry his pain receptors. Or perhaps this agony causing him to wither was a byproduct of his litany of injuries. Either way, Remus had lost his usefulness. All he could do was hold his breath, hope he didn’t bang his head against a flying object, and pray that Maris didn’t leave him for dead.
It was hard to see through the water, but the looming space surrounding him . . . this was far, far larger than the reasonably sized room he had been fighting for his life in.
The glacier, it occurred to him in a rush of panic, we sent it crashing back into the sea.
Lower and lower he sank, too exhausted to make any attempt at swimming. There was nothing he could do. Eyes stung, injuries screeched, hands grew clammy. And still, the disturbed seawater all around wasn’t done playing with him.
Remus, closed his eyes, reflexes forcing his mouth open.
The fact he didn’t feel his lungs crush with water was a surprise. A welcome one, but a surprise nonetheless. Oxygen enveloped him in an invisible barrier, and Remus noticed his vision adjusting to the aquatic world.
Her power flooding across his body in healing pulses, Remus almost cried at Maris’ smiling face.
He opened his mouth, only for a placed finger from the God-Graced to impede him. “Don’t waste energy by talking. Let my currents soothe your ailments. It's not much, but my clan is blessed with subtle abilities to heal at higher realms of power. You’ll be on your way soon, shhhh.”
She was treating him like a child, but Remus didn’t care. All he wanted was to get out of here, uncover the nearest safe patch of dirt, and sleep. For three decades, preferably.
“You did well,” she admitted with a smile. Or Remus presumed; his eyelids wouldn’t stop fluttering. “Met my expectations and well exceeded them. We toppled an entire base of theirs!”
Remus spluttered. “I didn’t sign up for things to go . . .” Nausea struck him. “ . . . this far. “
“Our Oath would say otherwise.” The undertones of annoyance in her voice unsettled Remus. “Now then, off to West Ember we go!”
Before Remus could even ask desperately to be brought to an infirmary instead, he was useless as his body liquified.
The last thing he saw was Maris’ widening rictus, a backdrop of splintered ice spreading for a mile all around. Then he promptly fainted, letting the will of the seas carry him as it pleased.
What had he done?