She, Calamitous Herald

Soul Level 120/16

She awoke to pain. Glorious pain and a birth in fire that heralded the end of all things.

Before her stood the only individual to ever match her blow for blow.

It was so rare she needed to wield the full arrangement of power invested within her.

119/16

A sudden diminishing.

Why was she getting weaker?

Something had gone wrong.

118/16

The world of memory faded into mundane detail. Gone was the mighty Demon Lord, replaced with a despairing Knight. Behind her, Malady howled with murderous intent.

Whatever that was, it would soon sort itself out.

117/16

A lingering and meek desire to protect this Knight tugged at her, pleading for her to act.

Please.

This was not how this was supposed to work. She was to be commanded, not bargained with.

116/16

Apologetic. Desperation.

She had been summoned by an [Awakening of Fire.] Its first use always came with a two minute timer.

With such a small Soul Level, Soliel had no business Awakening.

115/16

Instead of wielding a fraction of Calamity’s power, this Little Sun was having control of her body taken from her. It would not be long before the skill ran out and nothing remained to keep the fragments of Soliel’s soul strung together.

She was now left with the unfortunate position of piecing together Soliel’s intent with only vague feelings to go on.

114/16

All while on a timer.

Again, apologetic.

No matter.

The ashen remains of this impudent child would be burned into the world's memory as a cautionary tale.

Within her burned a certainty that Calamity could not be prouder if she tried.

Confusion.

Calamity has love only for the dead and dying.

She was predisposed to find Soleil’s predicament endearing.

Time was running out. But back to the matter at hand.

A knight hollowed out by regret and sorrow fell to her knees before her, purpose served.

Maeve, or Maevis, both names were inscribed upon her soul, making for a pitiful sight.

Why should She care?

A desperation grew within her. That tiny whisper of a voice burning itself out ever faster.

“Peace, little flame. I am intended to be your strength when you call upon me. As a shard of Calamity, I will do this thing for you.”

She extended her hand. No weapon was in reach, but she did not need one. A hand will [Pierce] through rot and vines with enough attributes of Intensity laced through the bones. An Awakening was meant to do just that, borrow needed attributes in moments of need.

With the Knight's execution delayed, there was time now to indulge this tiny voice inside her.

A wave of relief bubbles up within her. The sensation is so novel and foreign a concept that it in and of itself was worth this botched Awakening.

Soliel’s Knight was worth a second look. [Analyze] begins to map out the Knight's entire being. She is not searching for surface details. With an Intensity she urges the skill to dive deep into the depths of the Knight’s soul.. Only then does she begin to Focus and invite what details only Sensitivity will reveal.

She could only hope that little Soliel was taking notes on how to properly wield mana to enact her will upon the world.

The storied soul of the knight runs deep. Her sorrows are rich and many. Far too many for a soul so young. If only she were a Demon.

There it is. Maevis for all intents and purposes might as well be the dead name of one who rejected her creators.

There is pride, comfort, and confidence here in the knight that Maeve has become.

This vexed her to no end. Someone needed to crack Maeve wide open and kill Maevis for good.

Quieter, the little flame complains that this level of insight is a violation.

Very well.

She eases her command upon the mana, letting [Analyze’s] many insights fade from view.

Maeve, the Knight of Sorrows, lifts her head to speak through the wounds inflicted upon her by Malady. “Soliel.”

Pain. Wrongness.

“Is that you?”

Rejection. Negation.

These were instinctive and pointed feelings. They stabbed inward and hurt more than the fresh memory of Maeve’s sword ever could.

She stumbled backwards, wounded by the fragile flame within her threatening to expire.

“Silence.” She made it a command.

Maeve looked defiant. Having not recognized the voice coming from what remained of Soliel’s lungs, she had every intention to say something.

“You have hurt her. I must tend to her soul before it expires.”

She turned her focus inward, whispering words so that only Soliel could hear. “Hush now. You are weak. Devour my essence or risk oblivion. You yet have a promise to keep.”

Again, Rejection. Negation.

Foolish girl. “I am temporary. You are meant to be a permanent extension of Calamity’s will.”

Reflexively, She reached out and burned the nearest plant until only the rotted mana remained. She drew it close with [Rot Manipulation] before lifting it to her body’s lips.

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“Drink.”

Acceptance. Enrichment.

“Are you quite content? You have wasted precious time.”

Bountiful thanks.

The little flame gained a few Soul Levels. It would not mend her shattered soul container, but she might be able to Focus long enough to get something productive done.

78/19

“What is your priority?” She voiced the thought aloud. Thankfully, both Maeve and what little of Soleil remained were quick to answer.

“Protect you.”

Fulfill Promise.

She picked Maeve up, intending to use the armored knight as a shield.

“Poor choice of words. I am not Soleil.”

Maeve was stunned into silence, giving her an opportunity to address the one who could not vocalize.

“Very well, Little Sun. We will fulfill your promise.”

“Wait. Is she still in there?”

Hope.

“For now.”

“Is she okay?”

Regret. Shame.

“No.”

“My priority is protecting her. I want you to make her okay.”

“There is no guarantee we can stop Malady if we make that sacrifice.”

Despair. Resignation.

“She seems to think it is not worth it.”

“It is. You’re worth it.”

“You would risk dooming humanity for her?”

Distress.

“I would.”

…Acceptance.

“Clarify.”

“I don’t care about anything else. I just want her to live.”

“Silence human.”

The little one within her needed to Focus. She had much to say this time.

My desire for life cannot sacrifice you. A shard of Calamity’s soul is still a soul.

She swooped low, a beat of her [Calamitous Wings] knocking Malady low. With a twisted grin, She dropped Maeve atop the puddle of Rot mana given shape. There was no damaging Malady in this way, but delaying her body's progress in reforming would buy time.

She took that moment to invest her abundance of mana into Soleil's shattered soul. The working she had in mind was delicate and involved, demanding she [Shape] her intent. [Manipulating] the fragments into something resembling a whole. And conjuring up motes of fire to leverage Soliel’s [Fire Affinity.]

She and what had once been Soliel burned.

What remained could only be described as the blackened remains of a soul.

“Child of ash. Our souls are now intertwined. Do not break a promise to Calamity. She would survive the fallout, but the unraveling of this investiture of mana would be your undoing.”

Understanding. Gratitude.

“Burn bright, Little Sun, and maybe a part of you will survive the day.”

Thoroughly spent, She let go with the knowledge that there were now two Calamitous souls in the world.

***

Soliel opened her eyes.

Wrongness and Anathema cut away at her soul. Something within her burned.

Okay. Not Soleil.

What had the other one called herself? The shard of Calamity?

She smoldered in her mind with a fiery intensity. Could she borrow that identifier? It was less a name, but [Awakening of Fire’s] duration was still ticking downwards.

She could worry about her identity if she lived.

[Analyze] showed her a world of Rot running through every little detail of the world around her. She could practically count the individual seeds and spores. Hundreds. Thousands. No, she WAS counting them.

2,481 Saplings containing an investiture of rot.

Thirty seven trees of varying description, with more approaching.

Over eighty bushes, some of them freshly growing from retrieved saplings.

There was an entire army planted beneath them just waiting to sprout. This hill had been a very deliberate place for Malady to provoke a fight.

Had she lured both parties here specifically?

How much resistance would they have met if they tried to flee any direction but here?

She found herself screaming from information overload before disabling her [Analyze] skill. She never had to turn it off before. There was just so much mana for her to wield. Is this what people over level 100 felt like all the time?

Closing her eyes, she tried to reach for something to ground her.

With her thoughts reeling, answers seemed like a good enough place to start. Besides, Maeve seemed intent to keep attempting to displace a slowly reforming Malady.

“Why were you so insistent on protecting me?”

“Because you have parents who love you and party members who are trusting you to take care of them.” Maeve spoke plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh.” Somehow, Maeve still refused to see her as a monster. “Thank you.” Guilt gnawed at her for asking Maeve to cut off her arm.

But now Malady lay at their feet.

The mere thought of [Calamitous Wings] exerted mana-infused pressure on the world immediately around her.

Malady turned into a puddle.

The rot demon sighed. She ceased struggling and attempting to flee. “I had wanted to make you mine. But I see now that I succeeded only in pushing you into my sister’s arms. I do not expect forgiveness, but I apologize for being so wasteful, Little She.”

Frustration tempered by Validation.

But, Malady was correct. Worse, she was probably being wordy so as to draw out the clock. If she had wanted some sort of [Awakening of Rot] for her, she would know that there was only a two minute timer on its first use.

For some reason all that information seemed like the most intuitive thing in the world. She was still burdened with an uncomfortable amount of insights into Maeve’s soul.

She cast her eyes far and wide. All around her, the land grew sick.

Calamity had the right of it during their first meeting. There would be no cleansing the entire valley. She had to Focus on protecting the food stores.

But how? She did not know where they were.

“Tick tock little She.” Malady taunted.

Again, a feeling of Validation.

How could the absence of a name bother her less than a name that ill suited her soul?

She gazed upon Malady with contempt. “You are distracting.”

Malady had the audacity to giggle. It was a wet and revolting sound.

Fury. Fire. Indignation.

Loss.

She came to a stop. There was no way she would reach any of the villages in time. Instead, She lifted Malady into the sky. Her [Calamitous Wings] would likely expire alongside her [Awakening of Fire,] demanding she make haste.

There was something she could try. It would almost be poetic, even.

She descended upon the remains of Hope. It still felt like hers. And her mother’s. She knew both of these things to be true.

Okay. Her sense of self not being completely gone was a start.

“6.” Malady began to count down. “5.”

She grinned. Five seconds was more than enough time.

Pouring her abundance of Focus into [Rot Affinity,] She reshaped Malady’s rotten heart into a sphere roughly the size of Hope’s mana container. Satisfied that the act had silenced Malady and caused her form to grow limp, She began to [Manipulate] it into the broken mana core.

Thankfully [Craft Magitech] informed her that the Mana Engine was intact. She needed only to make repairs to the core that held the mana.

Yes. This would do.

She [Manipulated] and [Shaped] the remains of Malady’s old body into the breach. Any covering would do, so long as Malady could not escape.

[Awakening of Fire’s] duration expired.

She collapsed.

She felt lessened, but this feeling was at least familiar if not magnified.

She was just exhausted now.

Pointed claws scratched at the Magitech Armor’s chassis as She got to work.

She was not leaving her loved ones behind.

She would make her own Hope if she had to, with Malady’s rotten heart at its core.