“Why isn’t he just going to run in and beat us all down immediately?” Es asked.
Dovar stood with Es, Kirs, Master Ayvir, and Kasos. Pashar had just left to scout the sudden flare of spatial mana they’d sensed. Throughout the building, people were preparing for the attack. Either leaving through the bridges to Korfyi, or turning off the glyph-lights.
“He’ll want to avoid escalation as much as possible,” Dovar explained. “If he charges in full power, that means he’ll have to deal with our triplet masters next time.”
Es shrugged. “Why would that worry him?”
“You don’t want top-heavy countries,” Master Ayvir said, his red-eyes gleaming in the dim light of his suspended orbs. “Or any organization, for that matter. If every outing results in triplet masters massacring as soldiers, recruitment flat-lines. No staff to handle menial tasks, basic administration, guarding, resource gathering. Not to mention the culling of talented youths.
“If you’re a powerful tethered killing indiscriminately, you better be prepared to always be on guard, never leave anywhere important, and you best make sure you outnumber the enemies tethered.”
Es nodded his head in acquiescence about halfway through the tirade, yet the Master didn’t stop his speech. “So he won’t come in tearing everything down?”
“Well,” Dovar said. “Not immediately. If things go well, he’ll either be forced to shove bodies at the problem or handle it himself.”
“So what do we do then?”
“Kirs’ rituals. Once push comes to shove, we make an opening for her effects.”
“How will I know it’s time?” she asked, looking around nervously. A lot of their plans hinged on her. Her and things not going too far off-course.
“Hopefully, I will tell you,” Dovar said. “But if things get too heated. Signal, then wait as long as you can before Void.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. They discussed specific actions for a while longer before people started filtering in.
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Dovar squinted through the violet-tinted space. The buzzing swish that surrounded the triplet master echoed in the now hollow room. He checked the basement floor, luckily; it appeared unaffected by the results of his push.
“I’ve had enough of your tricks and games, Elusrians!” his words resounded into the darkness, bouncing back and forth wildly.
Dovar drew fully on his tether, flooding his Disciplines. Veil and Dagger expanded fully, spinning a slight gust through the building. Lungs wriggled through and into his body. He felt refreshed. The air he breathed became fresher, his body lighter. With one hand, he pushed off, hovering a foot in the air.
Streams of solid darkness filtered past the Purist to hover over Ayvir’s shoulders. One sleeve hung loose in the breeze, unpinned in their fall. His red eyes were to became targets to catch the enemy’s attention, yet he was not the focal point.
Es’ gathering of strength was a less visibly noticeable. He held no flashes of light or inexplicable darkness. His Disciplines were imperceptible unless your senses brushed directly over them. Yet, rainbow eyes and the sheer danger emanating from warp was enough to set Dovar’s teeth on edge.
Kasos, showing no visible signs of power at all, moved next to Kirs in a crouch. Yet, Dovar’s sweep noted where his attention was directed.
Dhaakir al-Khatib was a notorious tethered some centuries ago. Talented and disciplined, he’d risen quickly for his skill within the field, yet failed to touch the true heights of society. He was a deeply unlikable man, prone to angering his command. His desertion rates were so high they faked his death earlier than most triplet masters.
Thankfully, his prolific combat also meant they had information on his expertises. Dhaakir was called ‘the Blackstorm.’ His attuned technique and Concept both working to send shards of obsidian swirling about him.
Dhaakir flew further into the building, shards drawn down from the ceiling to join the storm brewing about him. As he got further from the walls, the sphere surrounding him grew bigger.
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“He needs to keep the motion even across his Discipline!” Dovar yelled. “Keep him contained to the walls!”
The Blackstorm’s flat gaze turned to Dovar. Ayvir reacted immediately. One of his balls lancing out a line of solid darkness. Dhaakir’s reaction instantly, or perhaps not at all.
A wave of heat attempted to sear Dovar, as light clashed across Dhaakir’s field of stone. Ayvir’s light revealed a layer of thick, dust-like obsidian. A trail of dark red outlining the wavering path of stones traveled around his defense.
It was not enough to protect him from Ayvir’s wrath. Light cut through the dust, igniting patches of his loose Ankirian military uniform. Dovar blinked the purple-white flash of light from his eyes as Ayvir’s attack faded.
Smirking, Dhaakir brushed out the embers on his cloak. Unharmed beneath the cloth. Dovar struck out with gale-force winds to hammer away the rocks. His attack ripped pieces of the Triplet Master’s clothes off, getting blended into dust as they passed through his field.
“A pleasant breeze,” he commended, voice choppy and strange passing through his protection. Balls of dark, muddy water launched from Kasos, wrapping around the two bridges, across the doorway, and the violet knot. Dhaakir cried out as the hollow room fell entirely dark.
Rock chipped against each other, throwing sparks and spraying water into the air, yet no light filtered through. Dovar rushed to Kirs’ side. “Signal,” he murmured, keeping his senses locked on the winds surrounding the triplet master. They just needed five minutes, maybe less.
Dhaakir started coughing and dashed away from the door’s approximate location. It seemed he’d lost track of his location. Already, Dovar’s exact sense of his location was getting blurry and unclear. The buzzing sound of his stone blades was as good an indicator as his sense of wind.
Es had disappeared from Dovar’s senses as well, his power dormant and hidden. Dovar reached out, touching the air surrounding Dhaakir and his field. No longer could he hold it as firmly as he could’ve just a moment ago, yet that was only a good sign. Only a tremor passed through his senses, deliberately noticeable, told him a third person had joined their power to him.
“Now!” Pashar yelled, equally warned.
Dovar seized stone and dust as best he could, ripping it away. Fighting Dhaakir’s control was like struggling against rock. Even his full might barely stirred the old monster. Someone else tugged harder in a different direction. And then Kasos struck. The shockwave from his soul-sight lashing out weakened Dovar’s Disciplines enough to make him weak in the knees.
Gasping, Dovar fell, still hauling with all his might.
Hidden in the space's dark, a second bar of intensely controlled light lashed out. Dhaakir screamed, his torso burst into fire. Animal response tore reason. He lashed out.
The vortex of deadly razors expanded.
“Now! Obsidians and stones!” Dovar yelled.
Their remaining tethered lying unconscious reacted instantly. They strained and tore against his attack. Elusrian, even Korfiyans with even an inch of mastery over obsidian, reached out to stop them. Ice appeared in mid-air to shelter them. Their last warp tethered attacked. Fire bloomed from one of the Korfiyans. Dovar pulled Kirs into a crouch.
The biggest disadvantage of their combined soul-sight attack was the requirement of setup. Any person who could sense them would know it was coming, even if they didn’t understand what they were doing. And so they had to resort to multitudes of different attacks.
Screams shook the air. The scent of cooked meat, smoke, and blood instantly overwhelmed all others as defenses failed.
“Breach!” Kasos yelled. Dovar saw nothing from the doorway, but understood well enough.
“Void!” he yelled, seizing Kirs’ shoulder. Something cut through his shoulder, spraying blood in his face, another cut his back, dragging him a foot across the floor before tearing free.
Purple lights flickered and sparked.
Fresh air, screams, the clash of metal, and pain greeted Dovar as he struck the ground hard. They were on top of a hill, four-hundred feet from the school. His face his cold snowy ground, as he tried to get up. Kirs was gone, remaining behind.
Warp flicked to life and his head whipped around, pain flaring up the base of his skull as he stared toward Dhaakir.
His shoulder and chest still bubbling from the heat, one ear sliced in half vertically, stained in soot and ash, nose running with blood. The Blackstorm did not look well, nor did he look happy as he glared up.
Falling through his field of obsidian, reducing it to dust, was Esmund. Fingers outstretched. Each stone, while obliterated into harmlessness, none the less pushed him slightly off-course. Dhaakir was already dodging.
He’s going to miss, Dovar realized with dread.
The two passed by less than a hand’s span between Es’ outstretched fingers and the old man’s nose. Half a foot from victory was no victory at all. Dhaakir sneered and was already barking out a laugh when power sparked off Es’ back. Jerking in mid-air, he lurched closer to Dhaakir, only to be met with a torso-sized chunk of ice.
Dovar glared toward the battle. A tethered, run through by a bronze sword, had his arm raised in their direction. Es spun out of control and Dhaakir howled with laughter.
The sound continued as Dovar let his forehead thump onto the frozen soil. Each moment, the noise grew harsher and sharper, Dhaakir’s power flaring higher and higher. Straining with power, screamed.
Dovar fought to stand, his shoulder screamed in pain and his back was soaked with blood. The others were similarly or worse off. Distantly, he sensed two groups of tethered approaching.
“I will kill you all!” Dhaakir’s voice was torn up and raw.
Finally, Dovar looked at him and gaped. His left leg was missing up to the knee. Blood ran freely from his nose, across his lips and dripping off his chin. Mania had subsumed the triplet master entirely.
“I got you,” Es wheezed, his voice but a whisper.
Obsidian clamped like a vise over his leg, stopping the bleeding.
“It’s about to get a lot worse,” Ayvir said harshly.