Dreadlords Graduation

[Delaney Lennox]

"Fucking hell, Laney, this wasn't the plan..."

Gaage was right, this was one hundred percent not the plan. She didn't say anything to him because she did not want to lose her connection to Trix. She concentrated on the help she was supplying her fellow Initiate even as Gaage's words flowed into her mind. She missed anything else he may have said though and then he was no longer at her side. Delaney wanted to turn her head to look but she didn't. He would be fine.

Delaney felt the moment that the explosion of magic hit Trix because it hit her too. She stumbled back as pain traveled through her entire body. The Queen of Darkness was feeling the thousands of cuts that Trix was feeling and she cried out in pain. The difference was that Delaney did not know it was not real and that caused her to start breathing harder as well.

She managed to keep herself from falling in that initial stumble but she hit the ground on her knees only a few moments later.

You will be fine. You are ours. We will not let you die...

Her darkness was reminding her that it was in charge.

---

Trix Gaage Eberwhit

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Damn, those were some big plants. He always found Proctor Novgorodoff's abilities to be unsettling because he understood how scary some of those plants were. Why couldn't all the plants have disappeared, instead of the metal?

Still, he moved forward. It was convenient that the Proctor had misunderstood him, but he had no reason to doubt Alistair. He had never been one for causing trouble.

The closer he moved to Kalix, there was one thing he was sure about. He was not going to be breaking anyone's neck. That really was not his style.

Instead, he mumbled a few words and magical energy gathered around a finger and formed into a claw. It was a simple that was often used by battlefield medics as a scalpel. The spell was simple and caused great pain in the finger, but it would slit a throat just as easily.

As he finally came to stand next to Kalix, he paused. It would be so easy to take the other initiates' life right now. Kalix had caused him so much trouble at the Academy. He had physically abused him more than a few times and had largely caused the largest mistake Alistair had ever been a part of at the Academy. The Proctor was right. Why shouldn't he kill Kalix?

Alistair raised the singular clawed finger into the air. He looked into Kalix's eyes and sighed with realization. Alistair did not hate Kalix. He just did not understand him. Everything Kalix did was illogical to Alistair, but it was all done for the sake of victory. That was something, Alistair agree with. They shared the same destination. The path they took was simply different.

"We can go back to trying to kill each other after this."

Alistair brought down the claw and raked it through the vines holding Kalix in an attempt to free him.

Kalix

 

[Liliana]

Liliana watched Jaxan crumple before her, the wide cheshire grin lingering as she felt him slip from her grasp and fall onto the ground. Her eyes closed for a moment, a deep euphoric breath drew into her lungs, goosebumps rolling up her spines as she reveled within what she had done.

The ecstasy of the moment however was quickly shadowed by the screeching chaos around her.

Eyes popped open, and finally she remembered where she was.

All around her now battles were raging, but not the sort intended. Initiates had broken their chains, Proctors were lashing out, and in the middle of all of it all she stood. Her head turned swiftly, surveying anything and everything around her.

She spotted the chaos with Everleight, a brief flicker of fear for her most ardent myrmidon rising in her chest. Then her gaze continued, spotting Trixie half collapsed upon the ground, Delaney nearby, and no sign at all of Ignatius before she finally found Kalix. "Kress be damned."

Liliana cursed, and then despite every screaming voice in her head she rushed forward.

Quickly the young noble darted through half a dozen other Initiates, some now rushing away from the field of battle. She moved quickly towards Trix, running as fast as she could in her now bloodstained dress and reaching the ivy within just a few beats of the heart.

A hand quickly slipped beneath the other girls arm, grasping and pulling her up.

"Come on!" She hissed. "We're getting out of here."

There was no credence to the lie she had told Jaxan. Liliana knew they could not win this fight. Knew that the Proctors would put them all down if they had to. The only chance they had was escape, especially while the others fought.

 

[Edric]

The second Edric felt the chains clatter onto the ground in front of him it was as though someone had unleashed a wild animal.

Fear, which had balled tightly in his chest was overcome almost immediately with a sense of rage. Indignation and anger overcame him in a tidal wave, and the odd black slit of his pupil seemed to thin as unfettered power poured into his muscles. He took from anything and everything he could, grasping at what Trix had not yet taken.

He grasped at the Proctors, initiates, it didn't matter.

As soon as the manacles fell from around his wrists Edric darted forward.

He became a blur, rushing towards the nearest Proctor who had begun to move towards Everleigh and the others. The man's face Edric did not see. In his minds eye he was only the enemy, the only opponent that really mattered.

The Initiate fell on him, no weapon in his hands, nothing to help him. Fingers bashed against skull, his torso flying into the Proctor. A guttural cry of pain, anger and pure rage rushed through Edric as he quite literally tore into the man. Muscles flexed, fingers dug, ripping, tearing, scratching into scraps of flesh as he ripped into the Proctor.

Screams echoed out from the man, bursts of magic flying from his palms as the elements scorched and tore at Edric. Muscles stripped away from bone only to heal themselves seconds later. Edric's bestial assault continuing until the Proctor was little more than ragged bloody bone.

The corpse beneath him twitched, and in an instant Edric jumped up. He bounded forward, dashing upward and moving towards Zael and the others when suddenly a black hand formed beneath him. The ooze grasped his ankle, digging into his flesh and peeling away a layer of his skin as he nearly ripped himself free from the bear-trap like grasp.

Sikerus half turned, his focus split between the two parties. A snarl on his face as he stared at the defiant Initiate's.

"You foolish, impotent, moronic little children!"​

The Proctor howled as the black tar continued to climb up Edric's leg, and then suddenly snapped as the Initiate tore himself free.

With a burst of speed Edric rushed forward, his eyes wild as he darted directly at Sikerus with a wild howl. His steps thundering on the forest floor, boots kicking off as he leaped at the man...and then suddenly found himself tossed away like a bag of feathers. A strange ethereal hand appearing from the air, and ripping him down into a tree as though he were nothing at all.

A shade took form within the air, flickering, and then from it stepped Proctor Renou. Her raven hair flickering, odd piercing yellow eyes staring down at her former pupil with utter disappointment.

"I expected so much more of you. I thought you were better, but here you are. A disappointment like the rest."​

The words rang empty in Edric's skull, rage and anger drowning them out as he pulled himself from the bloody stump of the tree. Splinters stuck in his flesh, his arm hung limply at his side, and yet he charged. He rushed forward as fast as he could, another roar escaping him as he darted towards Proctor Renou.

His hands swung forward, fists desperately seeking purchase but finding none.

Renou's form seemed to flicker to that palid ghostly shape, and Edric's form simply fell through her. His strike found nothing, and as soon as it fell through Renou's hand came up, grasping Edric's hair and yanking his head down to slam into her knee. A loud crack echoed out as bone shattered and curled inward.

"Ten years, Edric."​

Renou said, still clutching his head as she casually threw him to the ground.

"Ten years I've been trying to teach you, but maybe animals just can't be taught."​

As the Proctor spoke, her hand crashed into his stomach. The sound of it's impact like a building crumbling, as though a mountain had just fallen. Edric's eyes bulged, his head jerked forward and blood spewed from his lips.

A long wracking cough escaped the Initate's throat, his eyes flickering up to the Proctor which held his hair. He didn't reach out, didn't claw at her, but instead ripped at her with his magic. Tore at the flicker of her life...and find absolutely nothing. Shock flickered over his features, and Renou only shook her head.

"Foolish little boy."​

She said with a smile, her free hand suddenly flickering, it's skin dragging way as it took on that strange ethereal form. Fingers reaching out towards Edric's chest.

As chaos descended, as Initiate's turned on Proctors and the weight of their teachers magic came to bear, something moved within the forest.

Shadows flickered. A darkness spread, and what little light came through the forest seemed to fade.

 

[Davi]

Unlike Charon, Davi had not been afforded the kindness of armour nor anything else that could be used as a weapon. The environment, his magic and his wits were all that he had. As the other initiate ran at him it was the latter he relied upon. Ducking into a crouch that then turned into a roll he avoided the first powerful swing aimed to sever his head from his shoulders. Then, with the speed of a hare, Davi was on his feet and bolting for the forests.

"Come on," he muttered and tried to wrangle his wrist out of the remaining shackle. He could feel his magic tantalisingly close but when he attempted to pull on it his stomach curdled in pain. If he was going to be able to use it to defend himself he needed the cursed metal off or he might be in too much pain to make use of any advantages it afforded him.

 

[Zael Castomir]

Light it up.

If those were the last words he'd ever hear, Zael would be just fine with that.

A Fireblast erupted from Zael's palm, scorching and burning the oozing earth and the dark hands grasping at their legs. Flames licked across the ground and incinerated nearby grass, blackened dirt. Some of the flames curled upward around the two of them in their wild path; the shield against fire was a prudent call by Everleigh.

They were loose from Proctor Sikerus's magic.

Zael tried to take a step forward and could only just barely. He was shivering heavily now, the skin ringing the impaling ice shards in his body turned to horrid frostbitten purple. The orange glow in his veins went out, his Fireblood waning, the magic dissipating and its strength departing, and now normal blood instead of licks of fire seeped from all his wounds. Color was draining from his lips, and, curiously, his sole remaining eye. The very green of his pupil was fading. Shifting.

Turning blue. Like the impaling ice.

Yet that eye was locked onto Proctor Kimble. He tried for another step with Ever's help.

"Just...a few more..."

Meanwhile, Proctor Kimble was facing Henk. With a quick flick of his wrist, an orb of ice coalesced from the air and intercepted the burst of light, shattering as it absorbed the boy's magic. The shards of the orb slowed to a stop in midair though, and slowly did they arc around, reorienting themselves and their momentum toward Henk, and then in a sudden fury they flew. A hail of tiny, shrapnel-like shards streaked towards him.

Kimble was disgusted. Initiates at this stage thought themselves to be so powerful, when in fact all they had ever done was gorge themselves on petty victories over insignificant foes in the missions the Academy carefully curated for them. Often did they forget what it was like to face a real opponent. Another reason why this graduation test was so critical for their development. The contemptible recalcitrance of this class precluded them from learning this lesson. So be it. But maybe he could teach it to Zael, Henk, and Everleigh before he allowed them to die.

(No reason yet had Kimble to suspect the growing darkness as being anything other than the magic of one of his fellow Proctors.)

Proctor Malaneaux drove an infernal energy blade into the head of Everleigh's summoned snake, and at last beheaded it. His face was a calamity of broken bone and flesh, his mouth the only thing recognizable; the gaping hole in his chest remained untended; acid from the snake disfigured his flesh all over, exposing bone and muscle as dripping heaps of gooey, liquified skin clung desperately to his frame. But Malaneaux would not die. Not yet. His Infernal Resilience, his most closely guarded secret, would keep him alive through horrific damage, and only at the magic's end, if he was not healed, would he finally perish. Until then, he was nigh unstoppable.

And Malaneaux was coming around on Zael and Everleigh from behind, his energy blades humming and red electricity crackling, a hellish figure bearing only the thin silhouette of humanity.

Everleigh Ebersol Henk

 

[Noel]

Spoiler: Before

Three Years Prior

Noel was pinned there by Rachel's magic, waiting for it all to end. There wasn't any point in struggling. Gravity was a powerful force and according to every Proctor Rachel had an uncanny mastery over it. Noel had never seen her friend hold someone down like this, fully restrict their movements, but it wasn't a surprise that Rachel had been hiding this sort of ability. Noel expected it to be over swiftly.

Painlessly. That's likely why Rachel was exercising this kind of might.

But then, Noel looked up at Rachel. Her friend's face seemed to be filled with sorrow and an ounce of despair. The metal-controlling initiate tried to put on a brave face for her friend as she fought back tears. It was the least she could do now that Rachel had been dealt such a horrid fate.

Instead of death though Noel saw shards of platinum fly at an insane velocity directly towards Rachel. They pierced her limbs and her torso and her neck. In an instant the fight had ended and Noel felt the gravity release her body from the prison it had bounded her to.

"Very good! I'm impressed Schwarz, I didn't think you had it in you," Proctor Wallner purred, "I'm going to have to re-think my assessment of you."

Only Noel knew the truth of the matter. Rachel's gravity had lifted and thrown those projectiles. Rachel had decided to play her own game and now Noel owed her only friend a debt she'd never be able to repay.

She'd been having the most wondrous of dreams. It was hard to put it into words. Just frames of happy images, pleasant thoughts, the sort of half-conscious dreaming one does when their body is completely spent. Everything in this few seconds was wonderful. There wasn't any blood trickling down her nose, her magic reserves weren't completely shot, and she didn't have a headache that tempted her to sever her own neck.

In an instant the dreams stopped. They were replaced by a drop in temperature so rapid that one could feel the hairs on their flesh stand straight up. Then the headache hit her.

"Oooh, what's happening?" A hand rushed up to grasp at her forehead as it rubbed her temple. She awoke just in time to see Sable punching at hard sheets of ice. Albeit, through blurred vision as a second hand came up to wipe away blood that ran down her face and had begun dripping off her chin.

Something was wrong. Meredith was suddenly here and Sable was pounding away with his fists at the walls of ice that surrounded them. "What's happening?" Nothing made sense, Noel was all at once weak and tired and had a headache that persisted as if she'd drank the entirety of the Proctor's stash back at the academy.

All she could tell was that they were encased in a tomb of ice and that Sable was trying to punch his way out.

Several seconds passed by before reason dawned on her and Noel broke from her trance. Realizing the the predicament they were in. In a panic she focused on the destroyed metals all around them, the chunks that littered the ground, and she focused. She tried to re-form them into usable pieces but she was so weak.

It hurt even to attempt it.

She focused again, clenching one of her hands into a fist before screaming, "augh!" Every muscle in her body ached but she'd managed to forge a few small dagger-like objects with the bits of iron and platinum that were strewn all around the trio. She managed to limp over towards Sable and hand one of the shivs of metal to him.

In her own weakened state she began, likely fruitlessly, chunking away at ice with a piece of metal herself. This entire thing felt hopeless.

 

[Henk]

Henk prided himself on being composed and collected even in situations of great danger and peril. Of course he, like anybody, had moments of anger and impulse that led him to make mistakes, he was not a hotheaded live wire like some of his classmates. Thus, the moment Kimble easily subverted his blazing attack, the boy's logic cut through his fury and he realized the terrible blunder he'd made.

There was nothing Henk could do; he'd been approaching so quickly, without any care for what happened to him in the rage that had come to him upon seeing Noel on the ground that even if he'd seen the Proctor's counterattack coming he wouldn't have been able to avoid it. The moment he allowed overconfidence and blind anger to overtake him, he'd already lost.

The sounds of ice embedding into his flesh sounded like stakes being driven into soft soil as the shards pierced him, one traveling through his left hand, another in his right shoulder, another sliding underneath his collarbone, narrowly missing his jugular. That last one sent him down to the ground, landing on his back with a pained wheeze as every ounce of remaining air left his lungs.

The light pouring from his skin flickered and ebbed, but it didn't die. Henk gripped at the ice, melting it slowly with what heat he had left. It burned, and breathing felt as though he was being run through by a hundred small knives, but the sounds of voices around him, though his vision has long since gone hazy and his limbs numb, gave him reason to press on.

If he couldn't feel the warmth of his blood on his own skin, he could pretend it wasn't there.

He just... needed a minute. To recover. To gather his strength. He could feel that flame still buried deep inside of him. Somewhere, he would find the power to continue. Even if the ache of an icy shard made him wish for death as he pulled it from his shoulder.

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

They were free! Grunting with exertion, Everleigh did her best to support Zael and get him further from Sikerus’ magic, stilling pooling in some bits and places where neither Zael’s flames nor Henk’s heat had reached. She didn’t miss Zael’s words: a few more? Everleigh cursed under her breath.

She had one goal: to get those that she cared about out of here. Really, it was only two initiates she wanted safe: Liliana and Zael. In her peripheral vision she took sight of Liliana dragging Trix— feeling her stomach twist. Too bad Trix hadn’t died. Shame.

“I need to get you to safety—“ Everleigh said to Zael, and was going to say more until she felt the connection severed from her snake. She sucked in air through her teeth in frustration, the poison she had accumulated dripping down into the ground, soaking into the earth.

A myriad of possibilities flooded her mind on the next step one should take. She was still supporting Zael, who— by the looks of it— wasn’t fairing well. Over a year ago she would have left him behind, no, she wouldn’t even have stepped in and allowed him to get slaughter. He was deadweight, at least the definition of deadweight that the initiates were taught.

Biting her lower lip so crimson would dribble down her chin, hearing that incessant sound that was like a cacophony of chirping birds, Proctor Malaneaux’s red lighting blades, approaching faster, Everleigh knew that just moving forward wasn’t enough. To fight at her fullest she would need to leave Zael alone. The probability of Kimble… no, not just Kimble but other proctors and initiates too scared to fight back; never mind the fact that debris could also— With a scream of frustration, Everleigh used her weight to knock Zael off to the side, to fall to the ground.

Having nothing to fight with meant that options were limited. Pivoting on her heel, ripped at her tunic, quickly letting it slide down her shoulders to, gripping the opposite ends in her hands. Facing the running skeleton of a proctor, Everleigh could tell it would be a battle of attrition. If that were the case, she was doomed to fail, not because she would be killed but because she still wanted to get Zael out of there quickly.

Rushing to the gory, misshapen Malaneaux Everleigh planned to at least keep the proctor from running after them. When he would raise a blade to deliver a strike she would dodge to his other side, waiting for a stab and to then use the torn tunic to wrap around his wrist, skirting around the proctor to bring his left arm around his back.

 

[Kalix]

The vines broke against Alistair’s claw, but the most surprising thing of all was the bewildered look on Kalix’s face. Alistair out of all the initiates would have most definitely wanted him dead. Especially after the canal but…

“FOOLS!” Screeched Novgorodoff, the monster plant going to wrap itself from Kalix and suck his magic again. Without hesitating, Kalix turned to deliver a two-tonne punch at the plant. The force was so intense that a circular hole blasted through the plant. Novgorodoff clutched at his gut as if he had actually been hurt instead of the plant. Kalix looked back Alistair.

“I know this sounds funny but do you think you can trust me?” Kalix asked as the plant he had just punched began healing itself. The other monster plants began making their way to the two initiates who had just called a truce. Kalix held out his hand, clearly intending for Alistair to take his hand. He didn’t even realize the darkness that was starting to grow all around them.

Alistair Krixus

 

[Meredith]

Meredith almost forgot the chaos around them as her eyes met Sable's. He always made the world fade away. The redhead sank willingly into his open arms, burying her face against him. She never felt more safe than when his strong arms held her tightly. Even his melting armor wasn't a deterrent.

All too soon the chaos invaded her momentary bliss. She looked up at her white knight and placed a bloodied hand on his cheek. "Everything will be alright." One last look of determination as her eyes fell upon the immobile Noel. The armor, it was Noel. Smart girl.

Worry creased her brow, but fear replaced it as the ice cascaded around the trio, embalming them from the wake of battle. Noel was drained, Mer could see it from the way she stood. Concern for her classmate prompted her to reach for the book strapped to her hip.

She paused as Sable pounded at the ice with his fists, Meredith was afraid he'd hurt himself, but to stop him would only frustrate him further. Meredith continued searching her book, for any power that would either rejuvenate Noel, or break this dome to pieces. "Noel, you should sit. We're stuck for now. Gather your strength, you need to."

Sable Pembroke Noel

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair had no weapons at all. He was currently fighting a skilled Proctor with the initiate that wanted to kill him more than probably any other initiate.

The plants were approaching, and Alistair quickly pulled up the sleeves on his shirt to reveal several runes along his arm that were beginning to glow. A part of him kept an eye on Kalix in case he had to fight him too. Then he heard it.

“I know this sounds funny but do you think you can trust me?”

"Absolutely not."

He would have left it at that and turned to face the plan with determination. Then he noticed the shadows growing around their feet and he cursed under his breath.

"Don't suppose I have a choice."

He reached out and took Kalix's forearm and let Kalix take his own. He wanted to make sure he had a good grip on him.

 

[Samantha Black]

Caught in the erupting chaos, Ralene took only a few moments to gather her bearings and understand the evolving bedlam surrounding her. Every single face she'd spent close to two decades growing alongside wore expressions of betrayal and pain that were so unfamiliar it felt disturbing to witness. The nightmare unfolding around her was not anything she could have conjured up, not even if she had tried, just a day prior while listening to Zael Castomir and Delaney Lennox talk about their expectations.

No one had expected this.

Ral should have expected Proctor Ilverstein to rebound, but she'd gone and made the rookie mistake of letting the situation distract her. She felt him before she saw him - his power was difficult to mistaken for anything else. Like a vice grip on her bones, Ralene felt as though her skeleton were attempting to leap out of her own skin as she lifted into the air, higher and higher still until she was given a bird's eye view of the surrounding woods.

Initiates were fighting hard, but falling harder, and she didn't have enough time to see who was where before Ilverstein sent her careening downwards into the ground with the speed of a diving gryphon. Her body hit the ground with a sickening crunch and Ral wheezed for air as she felt it forced from her lungs.

"This is not the time to get rebellious, Banick," Ilverstein strode in from afar, his face bloody from the impact with a tree but his tall frame still held with that overwhelming aura of authority and pride. He lifted a hand toward her, capturing control of her skeletal frame and holding her in place just over the ground, "I may not be able to break your pretty magic bones, but I can rip them from your body..."

She felt it, a molar within her mouth tearing free from her gums, and shooting out through her lips along a hoarse, gasping yelp of pain. Ilverstein caught the tooth as it sailed through the air, directly into his hand, "Preform your test, Initiate, or I will take the rest one by one." And to make his point, she next felt the pull on her left clavicle as he tore it loose from her shoulder. Ral attempted to bite back the scream, catching it only as a agonized snarl. Ilverstein released his hold on her and her body crumpled into place like a marionette gone limp. Ral sputtered into the dirt and rolled with a groan to her right side, blood pooling from her mouth. When she looked up, the sight of the other Initiates briefly swam before hazey eyes and then honed in on the image of Davi against a tree stump and someone advancing upon him.

Charon

Charon stalked forward towards Davi like a tiger cornering its prey. Karambits in hand, he snickered to himself relentlessly. Was the boy begging already? Charon hadn't even begin sinking the daggers into his flesh yet.

Then that roiling wave of allomancy struck him, as well as every other soul in the area. His precious daggers turned to something resembling warm wax, and every intricate metal design on his armor followed suit. Charon kissed his teeth, frowning for the first time since he'd arrived before discarding the now-spent daggers.

Scarlet eyes, burning with hunger glanced over Davi as the cuffs fell from the other initiate's wrists.

"I don't care about 'graduating.'" He spat in reply, gripping one of the sharp, bony protrusions on the elbow of his armor. With a hard yank that cut his own flesh, he snapped the sharp, ossified structure off and brandished it like a knife. His wicked smile returned like it had never left. "I care about making you all suffer."

With that, Charon lunged at Davi, psychic static focusing onto him. Instead of discomfort, Davi would feel the sensation of barbed wire being dragged across his flesh. It was better this way. More FUN this way. This way everyone could fight back! Charon cackled manically as he slung his makeshift weapon at his prey.

"Now be good and SCREAM for me!"

"Stop," the word burbled from her lips, crimson bubbling out as she slowly pushed herself up, cradling her left arm. Her hunched posture heaved as her lungs sucked in new breath and Ralene carefully straightened her back as she stepped towards Charon, "get away from him. Davi, RUN."

Unlike Charon, Davi had not been afforded the kindness of armour nor anything else that could be used as a weapon. The environment, his magic and his wits were all that he had. As the other initiate ran at him it was the latter he relied upon. Ducking into a crouch that then turned into a roll he avoided the first powerful swing aimed to sever his head from his shoulders. Then, with the speed of a hare, Davi was on his feet and bolting for the forests.

"Come on," he muttered and tried to wrangle his wrist out of the remaining shackle. He could feel his magic tantalisingly close but when he attempted to pull on it his stomach curdled in pain. If he was going to be able to use it to defend himself he needed the cursed metal off or he might be in too much pain to make use of any advantages it afforded him.

Arcane words left her lips next, the familiar red sheen shifting over her figure followed by a black haze. Charon was granted only a few seconds to turn before Ralene became a blur and smashed her right shoulder into him with the force of a freight train.

 

[Trix]

The world spun as Lili hoisted her onto her feet. With effort she managed to get her legs under her and half stand on her own two feet, though every few steps she stumbled.

"You killed Jax," she wanted to feel more than hollow about that. None of them had been friends in the typical, fairytale book sense but they had all had one another's backs. She had thought that when it had come down to it that would have continued. She had wanted to feel more than hollowness if one of them had died.

Whether she would have said, or acted, on the death of their friend any further was stalled however as a tall man with a sharp beak of a nose and hooded eyes stepped out in front of their path.

"Going somewhere, girls?" Proctor Abaddon asked in his faint, eerie whisper of a voice.

 

[Gaage Eberwhit]

For what it was worth, Gaage was holding his own against the Proctor trying to get at Delaney. The obvious downside was that he was definitely toying with Eberwhit, throwing easy-to-block, basic magic at him with haphazard aim and smirking like a jackass as Gaage went out of his way to dance around so that none of them hit the woman behind him. He couldn't advance, or he'd leave Laney exposed, and the asshole was staying just out of his power's reach, the slippery fuck.

It was a frustrating stalemate until he heard a cry behind him and turned long enough to see Lennox dropping to her knees in agony. No! What?! I had her! Nothing got through me! Fuck! Seeing her in any kind of pain was infuriating enough to Eberwhit, his heart beating faster and his teeth clenching reflexively. Nobody laid a single goddamned hand on her! Not unless they wanted to get ripped to shreds.

"Laney! What the fu--"

Gaage was cut off by a searing pain in his back, a surge of warmth bleeding from the gaping wound opened up by the Proctor's blade-like magic projectile. He stiffened, and then stumbled down to one knee and focused on trying to breathe without screaming.

"You know better than to turn your back on an enemy, Eberwhit. Stop thinking with your crotch and focus on me, have some dignity before you die."

Gaage heard the voice in his head, but he couldn't tell if it was his own inner monologue or the Proctor approaching him now.

Approaching him.

Eberwhit wasn't the only one who could make mistakes.

Waiting until the sounds of footsteps behind him seemed to stop, Gaage sucked in as much air as he could, which wasn't much, and rolled onto his back with a sharp shout of pain and anger intermingled, reaching out with a hand to grab whatever he could. The ground against his back was like hell itself, but he could tell from the way the Proctor's arm suddenly stretched oddly out towards him that he'd found those invisible threads.

The Proctor knew it too, and his eyes widened, summoning up another blade, but not before Gaage twisted his hand, snapping his casting arm clean in two.

 

[Charon]

Teeth glinted like shining daggers as Charon's Cheshire grin grew ever wider. How amusing: the only metal that had miraculously survived was the cuff around his chosen victim's wrist.
"Ohhh, too bad. I was hoping you might get a few cracks in of your own, but I guess I'll be the only one doing any flaying today." He taunted Davi, brandishing the chunk of sharpened bone as he bore down on him.

Of course, Charon had waited too long. He did so enjoy savoring his victims, but that greed tended to get the better of him. Today was no exception it seemed, as he heard the sound of someone rushing up behind him. He turned towards the source only in time to get shoulder checked square in his chest, the remaining chitinous portion of his armor getting smashed into pieces under the force of the blow.

Charon tumbled back, end over end, as he was slammed away from Davi by Ralene. He coughed, winded and surprised, as he pulled himself back to his feet. His head rolled up towards Ralene and burning, crimson eyes focused on her from beneath disheveled strands of ashen hair.
"Well now..." He managed, somewhere between laughing and coughing. "That's more like it. - *hack* - Struggle for me!"

Now the sole subject of Charon's attention, all the magically induced agony of being on fire would be focused on Ralene, though her skin would not burn. Still reeling, Charon lurched towards the Banick initiate, swinging and slashing with the bony spike he brandished.

 

[Sable Pembroke]

This was going nowhere fast. Every moment wasted within this icy prison was one more opportunity for Sable's classmates to die around him. He hated this; he hated how weak and helpless he felt, how quickly Kimble had managed to make him useless.

Even as Meredith told him it would be alright Sable grit his teeth, knowing that it wouldn't. He took several more rhythmic swings at the ice. The proctor had laid it on thick. His goal had clearly been to take the initiate most likely to keep the others safe out of the fight, and he'd done so with magnificent efficiency. The fact that he'd used Sable's own barrier against him made it sting all the more.

"What's happening?"

Sable turned. Noel was back up, but she wasn't doing well. Meredith tried to get her to rest, tried to find some way to help her. Sable already knew nothing in his first aid kit was going to assist with what Noel had done to herself.
"Proctor Kimble sealed us in here." He replied, defeat dripping in his tone. Yet, injured and weak as she currently was, Noel was still fighting. She'd already done so much, but she was still pushing herself. Sable took the shank that she handed him and watched in awe as she began to chip away at the inside of the dome.

Sable looked down at the platinum spike. His head hurt, temples pounded, as some distant, long faded memory tried to breach its way back into Sable's mind. Such a simple thing he held, yet it seemed like the spike was trying to uncover something that Sable had long since buried and hidden. He shook himself. Whatever that was, he had to ignore it for now. He needed to be at the top of his game. If Noel and Meredith weren't giving up, neither was he.

"We're stuck for now,"

"Not for long."

Sable pocketed the platinum shank, then lifted both Noel and Meredith and deposited them at the center of the dome, as easily as a child carrying a couple of stuffed toys. Grim resolve washed over his face as he began channeling his magic, chanting through the lines to cast his barrier spells. With a stomp, he thrust his arms to his sides, palms flat, and created a new dome, though one that neither Noel nor Meredith would be able to see.

The new barrier was wrapped around the exterior of Kimble's ice. Just as the proctor had gone over Sable's barrier, so too would Sable defeat the proctor. Sable breathed, sweat dripping from his brow as magic coursed from his body. He began to draw his hands inward, envisioning what he wanted: crushing force. He could sense the barrier begin to strain against the ice dome, energy crackling as the ice started to fracture.
"I'm going to keep everyone safe...and this...gods-be-damned thing..."

The dome began to shake as Sable's barrier collapsed and constricted. Tighter. Tighter!

"...WON'T..."

Loud popping and cracking could be heard from around them. It was working, but a bigger push was needed. Sable's lungs began to burn, his muscles began to scream. He was bleeding energy, but he didn't care. It was now or never. Sable wrenched his hands towards each other, hands balling into fists as his arms crossed.

"...STOP ME!"

*CRASH!* A sound like a fallen chandelier filled the battlefield as the ice dome was shattered to pieces. Ice rained down around the trio, and Sable fell to one knee as he dispersed the barrier before it could crush them all. As the frozen prison fell, Sable locked eyes with the man who had tried to lock them all there. He was going to crush Kimble the same way he'd just crushed the dome.

 

[Edric]

A horrific skull shattering scream echoed from Edric's lips as the strange ethereal hand plunged into his chest. Eyes tore themselves open, goosebumps rolled over his flesh, and fingers curled into white knuckle fists as Renou's palm grasped at his very soul.

Hot fire poured through every vein and muscle in his body. A searing agony like nothing he had ever felt before. His screams echoing to a dying whimper as his lungs lost their strength. His magic lashing out wildly at anything and everything around himself. Trees, insects, other Initiates and Proctors. In his desperation Edric saw no boundaries.

He tore and ripped, pulled at what Vitality he could.

Yet nothing helped.

There was no wound to heal. No gash in his chest. No muscles torn. Nothing that his magic could touch. Renou's fingers closed around his very soul, slowly ripping it free from his body. The magic that he desperately stole going right along with it.

Slowly stripping away Edric's very core. Ripping free the very magic which kept him alive.

"Such a shame. Such a shame."​

Renou's words barely reached his ears. The derision in her tone lost to him as he desperately tried to claw at her, break her grasp. His palm reached up, fingers limp as he closed around her wrist. A struggled cry echoing from his throat.

The Proctor only smiled, a wild wicked grin.

"Shh, my boy. It'll be over soon. No more pain, no more hurt, no mo-"​

Edric couldn't hear the words, didn't hear the words. The pain was excruciating, too much, his vision blurred, his eyes watering, and then blackness enveloped him.

A shadow exploded over the forest. It burst out in an instant, consuming everything in the snap of a finger. A great dome of the abyss washing over Proctors, Initiates, and everything else. For a second it lingered, casting those within into nothing less than absolute darkness. An everlasting nothing which seemed to stretch eternal for those inside.

Time seemed to stop.

For just a second the darkness lasted. A heartbeat which seemed to thunder in the chest. Lingering just long enough for the unconscious mind to question reality itself. Then, just as quickly as it had come the shadowed dome retreated. It snapped back, washing over those in the clearing and returning them to the waking world.

It rushed backwards in an instant, pulling itself together until it took the shape of a man. His figure ripping itself free from the darkness, eyes like a beast of myth. His features scarred and broken, lips turned to a scowl of disgust as he appeared standing directly over Edric.

And then Proctors started to die.

Ragged corpses fell to the earth as though they were nothing more than sacks of flour.

Renou's body clattered just to the side of Edric, her hand severed from her arm. Thousands upon thousands of cuts decorating her flesh. Eyes stripped from her skull, and mouth open in an eternal silent scream. Pure horror burned into her very soul.

Kimble stood, his head downcast, his fingers covered in blood. A hole garishly decorated his chest. Bloody and torn, as though someone had ripped the very heart from his chest. Confusion decorated his features. Shaking crimson hands pawing at the wound, a sputtered and muted complaint echoing from his lips before he fell to the ground.

Abaddon, so proud and confident before Liliana and Trix stood for but a moment more. Then his body fell to pieces. Dozens of bloody chunks casting to the forest floor, splattering both girls in blood.

Not all died, but enough. "INITIATES!"

Gilram's voice boomed out, resonating through the trees and echoing far beyond. Heads turned, Proctors and Initiates both drawn by the sound of the Archon's voice. Some stopping their melees outright, though others still too drawn into their own battles.

"IS THIS WHAT WAS PROMISED TO YOU?!" He shouted. "IS THIS THE BETTER WORLD THE REPUBLIC OFFERED? IS THIS THE SAFETY THEY SAID THEY WOULD GIVE YOU?"

"Is this how they protect you?" His voice still echoed as he spoke.

"Allowing you to be taken at the whim of these dogs?" The Archon's boot crashed against Renou's corpse, kicking her body and sending it tumbling to the side. "Letting them pit you against one another, thrown against friend and brother, sister?"

The Archon spat. "They failed you. Like the Houses failed you, like the King failed you. Like everyone has failed you."

As he spoke, some of the Proctors still standing took slow steps backwards. Their faces awash with terror, their fingers curling on weapons, tightening to white knuckle. Their hearts thundering as the Archon indicted who they were.

"And for what?" His voice sounded pleading, almost desperate. "So you can live your lives on a leash? So they can use you? Make you kill for their justice?"

His eyes flickered over those closest to him. "So they can throw you to a world you have never known if you refuse their collar."

Gilram's gaze shifted, looking at each and every student. Capturing their gaze and silently imploring. His fingers curled, and behind him the shadows seemed to move, shift into a great wall. Standing like a fortress behind the rebel Archon.

"Is that right? Is that fair?" He asked. "No."

He answered.

For a few seconds silence reigned within the clearing, save for the sounds of what few sword still clashed. What little magic still exploded within the fights that carried on even in that moment.

"Come with me." Gilram said, his voice still echoing beyond. Eyes casting down to the wretched and ruin Edric at his feet. "I can't promise you an end to the killing. I can't give you wealth or power or give you back the time that was taken from you."

The words sounded so honest, so desperate. "But I can give you freedom."

"No more Houses. No more Kings. No more Republic." Slowly, the Archon extended his hand, offering his palm to Edric.

He said. "Just what you choose."

Edric stared up at the Archon.

His chest rose and fell, echoed of pain still resonating through his body. Fingers curled in the muck of the forest floor. His thoughts ran everywhere and nowhere. To every conversation he had ever had. Those talks in the dungeons with the Proctors who'd tortured him.

The words with Noel in that forest.

His time with Ralene in Wissburg.

The trip through the desert with Kristen and everything beyond.

All of them flashed through his mind. Eleanor, Henk, Alistair, Everleigh, Sable, Mer, Zael, Vance, all of them. Every moment and word ever said or spoken. Every experience that the Academy had ever brought him flickering through his thoughts as his gaze slowly fell to the hand extended towards him.

He thought about them, himself. What he had wanted.

Then he reached out and took the hand.

Alistair Krixus | Henk | Zael Castomir | Noel | Sable Pembroke | Meredith | Trix | Ralene | Everleigh Ebersol | Delaney Lennox

 

[Delaney Lennox]

Everything was moving so quickly that Delaney had missed Trix being drug away and Gaage’s fight. It was Gaage’s voice that pulled her from her immense pain and she slowly started to try to stand. She heard the snap of bones and immediately turned her head to look at her boyfriend. He was bleeding badly but at least the Proctor was out of commission for now.

Delaney was about to send her shadows to finish the job when the Proctor’s eyes went wide once more and he tumbled forward. He was dead.

The booming voice of the Archon filled the area, all attention seemed to focus on him in that moment. The silence was palpable save for the few still fighting.

"Come with me. I can't promise you an end to the killing. I can't give you wealth or power or give you back the time that was taken from you. But I can give you freedom."

Freedom.

"No more Houses. No more Kings. No more Republic. Just what you choose."

This is what Delaney had needed. This was how she would still be useful and appease her shadows. This was what she had to do. The Archon was right, of course, the Republic was full of liars and she wouldn’t be a part of that.

Her violet eyes turned sadly to Gaage. She had asked for his choice long ago but now was the moment of truth. The reckoning.

“Gaage…I…have to go…” Her voice was quieter than normal, hesitant. “Please come with me…”

She didn’t give him a chance to answer before she was holding his face in her hands and kissing him softly.

“Please…”

---

Gaage Eberwhit

 

[Henk]

For some time, Henk slept.

Well, perhaps slept isn't the best word. The gruesome attack inflicted on him by Proctor Kimble had quelled any remaining fire that burned inside of him, that fury that had lead him to slay his former teachers without a second thought and draw forth more power from within himself than he'd ever dreamed possible. Now, lying on the ground with the ice spears that skewered him quickly melting away, he was merely a defeated casualty. And he closed his eyes, accepting that title.

If it was to be his end, Henk could claim that he was killed protecting those he loved, and that he'd never given up, just as he'd promised them all he wouldn't months prior. It wasn't the death of a Dreadlord, but of a warrior. It was a death he could accept, and be happy with. That death, however, wasn't meant to be. That killing blow never came, but the thunder of a new voice did, one that caused his eyes to shoot open, his wounded body to roll onto its side so he could stare through teary eyes at its source.

Kimble's corpse laid mere feet from him, and more bodies, Proctors who had organized this horrific event, lay strewn across what had become a viscera-laden battlefield. Henk's breath caught in his throat, the hazy clouds at the edge of his vision sharpening as he tilted his head upwards. Who had that kind of power? Better yet, who would go out of their way to make such a bold move against The Academy and the City itself?

It wasn't long before he spotted his answer, standing tall with a hand outstretched dramatically. It was a face

Gilram. Why did it have to be Gilram?

Henk hadn't forgotten what he'd witnessed at Vel Acan. The horrific experiments that were hidden underground, overseen by this very man. Making Dreadlords. Giving the curse of power to children who should have led ordinary lives. Gilram was in part responsible for the creation of this problem, and now he sought to liberate them from it?

Ignoring the burning pain and bleeding wounds that littered his body, or doing his best to anyways, Henk pushed himself up to his feet before stumbling back to lean against a tree. Already his friends began to depart with Gilram. First Edric, and then Delaney. Henk knew Gaage would go next...

One of his hands clutched at the puncture wound on his shoulder, his teeth biting down on his cheek, hard enough that the iron taste of his own blood coated his tongue. Everything was gone. What he'd worked for, what he'd believed in... all ripped from him in a matter of hours.

He'd lost. And now he watched as the ones he cared about most, his family, left with somebody that he couldn't see himself following.

All that awaited Henk at Gilram's side was more of this. Would he so willingly trade one evil, one enemy for another? For the sake of what? Revenge? To prove something? The Archon spoke of freedom like he knew anything of the sort, but the pale-skinned man was just as much a slave to the past as any of them. The only difference was that he'd waited until exactly the right moment to spew honeyed words at vulnerable children.

A sharp groan escaped his lips, and with clumsy steps, Henk pushed himself away from the tree that supported him. This was over. It had been for some time now, and he'd refused to see it.

Now that it hit him, it left him dazed and in denial. The whole world was akin to a cloudy painting hung high on a wall, one that he slowly backed away from with unsteady steps, before turning and leaving it behind, the bloodied and beaten light bender dissappearing into the shadows of the trees.

 

[Gaage Eberwhit]

The look of agony on that fucker's face was all he needed to dull the pain throbbing from his back. The sound of it was enough to get Laney's attention too, snapping out of whatever funk she'd been in just in time for them to watch the one-armed Proctor get brutally executed together. Cathartic, yeah, but that ominous figure calling for them to join him, the one who just made all of their proctors look like child's play...

He gave Gaage a really bad vibe, and Eberwhit had a pretty good history of picking creeps out of a crowd. The shit he was saying was cool; Gaage didn't have any love lost for Vel Anir or The Academy, but there was some nagging voice in the back of his head, telling him no. Telling him that something about all of this was--

Then Delaney was over him, her hands cupping his face as she pressed her lips to his, kissing him where anybody could see, as though it could be the last chance she ever had to do it. Gaage's eyes closed, and for a few seconds that felt like more like minutes, he brought his arms up to wrap around her, holding her tight against his chest, albeit painfully.

He'd made her a promise. That he'd stay with her no matter what. Gaage was a long, long list of awful things, but he wasn't a liar, and he didn't go back on his word if he could help it. And Laney... she was his girl.

Pulling away from her, he forced a strained smile.

"You gonna help me up so we can go? Or are we just snogging until they drag us off together? Either way works with me, babe."

Delaney Lennox

 

[Delaney Lennox]

Delaney couldn't even describe the happiness that overcame her when Gaage agreed to go with her. She had no idea what was going to happen but it was enough to appease her angry darkness.

She pulled away from Gaage and once they were both on their feet, she let him use her as support to walk slowly toward the Archon.

"Maybe he will be able to heal your back," she said softly without taking her eyes off their destination.

 

[Noel]

Had she been in a right state of mind, had she not been utterly exhausted, or had Sable consulted her on the decision, then Noel Schwarz would've informed him that, "no, you may not pick me up like a sack of potatoes and drop me at the center of this frozen tomb."

There was no consultation and she was far too tired to resist. Instead she looked on in awe as the bulky student managed to tear away the ice. And nearly as soon as the prison was shattered she beheld an equally awe-inspiring sight.

Proctors falling over dead. Followed by a spine-chilling speech given by Archon Gilram.

This morning had begun with initiate standing before initiate prepared to fight to the death. Noel had been ready to give her own life this morning rather than slay another of her students for the grim pleasure of bloodthirsty Proctors. Zael and Henk had light a match, however, and the entire class seemed to accept their own mortality. There was no chance they could've defeated the Proctors and had Gilram not arrived they'd all likely end up dead.

Maybe they'd all have died but at least they'd finally have their voice. Their say as the first class to rebel during the final trial.

How had Gilram even known to be here? That thought was quickly replaced by another one. All that Gilram was really offering was to take those who were willing away. He was delaying the very thing they refused to participate in this morning.

In six months, or perhaps a year, they'd all be back to where they were this morning. Facing one another in bouts to the death. As enemies, instead of allies.

"N-no," she croaked out of a tired and weary voice, "no!" She saw Edric and Delaney and Gaage pledging allegiance to the man who would erase their voice and replace it with his own. She saw Henk slink off without a fight.

All of it filled Noel with rage. A burning anger that she hadn't felt in years. The raven-haired allomancer shambled up to her feet with the small metallic shiv gripped tightly in her fist. A glare of pure hatred aimed directly at Archon Gilram as she stood there with knees wobbling and a thin line of blood running from her nostril down towards her chin. "I won't let you take them."

Shambling forward she considered her options. Her magic was tapped. Her body felt as if she'd just run back-to-back marathons. Her odds of winning a fight with the Archon, even at full strength, were impossibly slim. But there was only one way to stop this, only one chance at preventing the siblings of the academy from facing one another in bouts to the death.

Noel would never forgive herself if she didn't at least try. Limping closer to Gilram her gaze burned into his one good eye. "I'm not letting you take my family away from me."

 

[Zael Castomir]

Zael, rattled by his fall to the ground and weakened horrendously by his wounds, was fading in and out of awareness of Arethil. He lay there, darkness not of Gilram's making coming to obscure his vision and then receding away before coming back again, so on and so on.

It was easy. So very easy to just let go if he wanted it, this he could feel in a transcendent way. He could just dip his toes into the forever midnight and sink in and never come back out, and that would be that. A warrior hanging up his armor, putting away his sword, and departing from the battles of the world into the soundless rest of eternity.

But he clung to life.

He wasn't done fighting yet. Not if he could help it.

And he clung and in so clinging he was cognizant enough to hear some of what Gilram had said. Not all, but the main thrust of the Archon's argument.

Freedom. Choice.

Zael lay there, eye searching for this mysterious speaker Gilram. And Kimble's ice shards were beginning to melt...a disaster, as they would leave open his impalements to bleed freely.

* * * * *​

Proctor Malaneaux was no longer human. He was a shell of a man, so badly ravaged by his wounds and sustained solely by his fading infernal magic and increasing drive to kill that he was little more than a horrific monster wearing a suit of the once Proctor.

Everleigh got around him. Pinned his one arm behind him.

Gilram's darkness came, depriving the shell of Malaneaux of the opportunity to strike back effectively. His senses were not so keen.

When the darkness lifted, there came a small and crucial window of opportunity for Everleigh before Malaneaux's diminished senses reestablished themselves.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

A part of her was aware of the darkness, but the first and biggest threat was Proctor Malaneaux. Which was why as Gilram spoke, the purple initiate didn’t waste any time to kick the back of the proctor’s knees, forcing him to kneel. Wrangling one of his blades from him, Everleigh stabbed the dying proctor, pulling out the blade as she kicked his back, watching him fall forward.

Not taking any chances, she decapitated him— or at least the skeleton of dripping flesh. His bones would disintegrate as the acid continued.

But that hardly mattered as Everleigh ran straight to Zael, tossing down the blade to the side as she knelt down beside him, beginning to lift him up.

“Zael?” Everleigh questioned, her eyes wide, searching over him frantically. Her mouth was agape with realization. His pallid face, his colorless lips, the sheen of sweat over his brow that somehow made his skin look more dry and fragile. “Oh no, no.” She whispered, and then looking over her shoulder saw Gilram. Edric taking his hand, others following suit.

A choice needed to be made.

“I don’t want you to die.” Her voice cracked as she looked down at Zael, tears welling up in her eyes.

Zael Castomir