Completed The Cut That Always Bleeds

[Zael Castomir]

Feeling good. To that Zael nodded and let it be. If she said so, it was so.

"Eh. Runes," Zael said as they walked. "People like Alistair and Ralene get it. They're actual wizards at that shit." He smiled. Grinned and shrugged. Not afraid to say aloud his shortcomings. "Heh. I don't know. Not my kind of artistry, I guess."

Zael wasn't like some of the purists at the Academy. He did often sing the praises of learning supplemental College Magic—brute force didn't solve everything, contrary to the prevailing wisdom of the Dreadlords. But runes were in fact one of his weak spots. Even some of the disciplinary punishments for each failure during a test didn't help, and those punishments could be something awful back before the Revolution.

Well. This is what delegation was for. Damn it was good to be team Captain. And, you know, wards were more his thing, and he might just have a ward to help lessen their presence. Make them both quiet, at least.

The cow Ever was leading mooed. Zael half-glanced back. "Hey. You hush up back there, you'll give us away." And a cheeky glance to Ever afterward. "I don't know what he's complainin about. I love bein the bait in a daring plan."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh glanced at Zael, raising a dark brow in silent conspiracy. “Telling me your weaknesses, Castomir?” She teased, that playful yet ever-smug grin coming back to grace her fair features. “You must really trust me, huh? Or perhaps the proctors never warned you about a girl with a pretty face and a killer smile.” The purple initiate let the tease form and float away as they got to the spot that Everleigh found suitable. “You have to be accurate with runes. I’ve watched Alistair a few times, I think I can manage a decent dark vision rune for you. Nothing at his caliber, though.”

There was a moment of silence as the poison eater considered the rune at the base of her neck, forever etched into her skin. To keep her from harming others, Proctor Goetsch had said, but Everleigh thought her eyes said a different story: to keep you from killing those stronger than you. The taste of bitter resentment reminded her of a dirty iron nail covered in rust. She spat onto the ground and looked at Zael.

She appreciated his humor, dearly, and this time the smile was far more genuine, far more gentle than all her others.

“Of course you do,” Everleigh said, a single hand patting at his armored bicep, “how could you not be the star of the show?”

---

Soon enough, all the cows were where Everleigh wanted them, and she had brought her and Zael to the best vantage point that allowed them some cover. The sun had set and the temperature began to drop. From memory, Everleigh drew the dark vision onto her left temple before doing the same for Zael. His came out far neater than hers, and while she could see in grayscale, her peripheral was quite blurry. She hoped it worked out better for him.

“Do we need to go over anything?” She whispered to Zael, but her eyes were focused on that group of cows and on that copse of trees, searching for any sign of movement.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

Night.

Not Zael's favorite time of day, that was for sure. Unless he was around a hearth. Or drunk enough to be cozy and warm on the inside. But he wouldn't be a bitch and complain that it was a bit nippy—guy thing, you know? And things would heat up soon enough when the bait was taken and the battle was joined. All he needed to worry about was being efficient, waaaay more efficient than he usually was, with his magic.

Or he could just trust his Trusted Advisor to handle business with her pretty face and killer smile. Heh, what chance did this cow-killing maniac have against something as elegantly effectively as that?

"Yeah," Zael whispered back. "I think it's horseshit that we missed out on that Beach vacation in Cen'ahir. Where do we put in a compliant for that? With Proctor Melina? With some pipe-smoking big-shot Guard General with tassels draped all over his shoulders?"

He flashed a knowing smile.

"Nah. Nothin. Just gotta wait and see."

They had a good concealed vantage on some higher ground. They had workable nightvision. They had the simmering desire to kick this thing's ass, be it man or beast.

Just had to wait and see.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Beach vacation would’ve been nice. You and I would’ve made the most out of it compared to Edric and Ralene,” Everleigh said, nudging Zael’s side with elbow and a playful grin of her own. But he was right on the waiting and seeing part. Everleigh could only hope that her plan would work and yield the results that they needed. She wasn’t sure how she could explain to Mathias if their plan failed and there was nothing to show for it. He was quite upset about the ten cows. She didn’t want to see him upset about ten cows and his ranch still being terrorized.

There was a buzzing in Everleigh’s ears, slight and hardly annoying, but she recognized it. A frisson coursed over her and she could feel saliva starting to rise up in her mouth. She was ready for a fight, and so was Zael. She glanced back over to him. That unmistakable, cocksure look of glee from the probable excitement was evident. She found it quite endearing usually, it was always better than someone looking glum. However, there was still that worry in the back of her mind.

Sure, Zael was standing tall and proud. Sure, he looked ready for a fight. But, arcane fatigue was a bit different, wasn’t it? Normally Everleigh wouldn’t worry if Zael was out of steam, he physically accomplished feats with ease. If it was alive, he could kill it with or without his magic.

But magic had been used when they were in that wood, and Everleigh knew in her heart that it had specifically gone after Zael. Why else would she try to push him away? And they had came out, soaked in blood. Blood magic? Illusion magic? What if they were under a spell— no, they weren’t. Everleigh swiped her tongue over her lower lip.

She would do whatever it took from causing him to burn out. And so, without hesitation, she pulled out a dagger, licked it’s sharp edges and handed it towards Zael.

“Take this, for just in case,” Everleigh said, a bit of an edge in her voice, “and don’t set it on fire unless you wanna die, too.”

Back in the woods, shadows moved, whispers of an unknown language whispering among the burnt flora. So the two little magicians had escaped, that was fine, the sisters told each other. Mother had given them something special, yes, something very special. There was no more reason to slowly drain their source of blood. Tonight they would take it all. The entire town would fall before the moon even rose to the highest point of it’s peak. Now was the time to move.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

"Oh, present for me huh?" Zael said, taking the dagger in his free hand. He could hear the pointedness in her tone, but kept his own light. Best to play this all cool—letting this cow-killer get him all worked up again was a surefire recipe for disaster. "I'll give it special delivery to someone reeeeal deservin."

He spun the dagger around in his hand, flipping it this way and that. He was aware of its poisoned edges, but he just had to give it a few twirls. At last he caught it by the hilt and held it firm.

Zael's eyes pierced the dark and swept over the cows down below. One of them mooed, a distant sound in the night. That same cow he then saw moving, retreating from the edges of the bovine gaggle and somewhat hurriedly trotting toward the center of the group. Agitated, maybe?

Zael looked. Eyes darting. The expanse of the ranch and surrounding lands was vast, all color muted by the nightvision rune such that, while he could technically see, some things at a distance did blend together a bit.

He reached over and tapped the knuckles of his gauntlet to Ever's arm, trying to get her attention to point out, "Somethin's got that big boy riled up."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“That’s one way of putting it.” Everleigh said softly, a hushed focus settling over her. Her eyes were moving from the cluster of cows to those woods. She felt as if she felt the same uneasiness as the cattle did, but that would have been an exaggeration. Something was amiss, but the cows were the ones who were displaying that to the initiates right now.

“Herd animals bunch because predators prefer moving targets, doesn’t matter if it’s a bear, wild cat or a wolf.” Her eyes narrowed, something clicking in place. More and more the cows seemed to fight for the spot directly in the middle. Sure, some movement towards there should be expected, but it was far more sinuous than forceful shoving.

“I think—“ before another word could leave her mouth, a pack of mangled beasts left the cover of the copse. These beasts were unlike any animal, some had wings, some ran on two legs, and others were on all fours. Or six or eight or even twelve legs! Bones and flesh and fur and skin stuck out in peculiar ways and all the purple initiate could think about was the transparent agony of their unholy anatomy. There were ten in total, this amalgamation of animal parts that had hurried been sown together. A fleshy cord was attached to their stomach, leading back to the copse.

It reminded Everleigh of a moist placenta or even a stringy umbilical cord.

The beasts descended onto the first things they saw: the cows. As blood first touched their grizzly maws, light seem to erupt from that strange cord at the base of their rotund bellies.

“Oh no.” Everleigh looked at the cows and then back at the ranch behind them. One of the strange winged ones began to meld itself with the empty husk of the cow as it flew back up. It didn’t head to the initiates or to where the rest of the cows would be. It went for the next closest mark: the Kresselrings home. Everleigh didn’t say anything to Zael, dashing off with her sword drawn, her eyes glowing gold, searching for her poison inside that beast.

She felt a hunger stir within her gut. The same sort of hunger when looking at that hunter with the strange doll in his belly. A poison unlike her own, and one that seemed to make her own toxicity ineffective.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

"Fuck."

Was this some sort of genius play by the puppetmasters behind these monsters? Maybe. But it was all he and Ever could do to play into it. They couldn't just let the creatures run roughshod all over the Kesselrings' home. Yeah, Proctor P was in there, but what were the chances he would just stand back and allow the Kesselrings to get torn to shreds just so he could give Ever a bunch of low marks?

Zael ran to intercept, keeping pace with Everleigh, his sword drawn with a sharp metallic trill. Cows were the Kesselrings' livelihood, but their lives were their livelihood too. And, Kress damn it all, Zael was wishing he didn't need to be so conversative with his magic right now. This would have been a cinch if he could've flown over, torched the winged asshole, and flown back to fight the rest harassing the cows.

"I'm cuttin that cord!" Zael shouted. "I don't know if that'll kill it, but you put that thing down if it doesn't!"

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Cutting the cord was a good idea, Everleigh had to admit as much since if that cord meant anything then surely it was a power source. If it weren’t for the bright glowing of those cords then even with her dark-vision rune wouldn’t have been able to pick up how far back into that forest the cord went.

A part of her would have rather gone to the source, let these monsters ravage whatever causalities they wanted while she got to the root of the problem. It was a brash thought, or rather a thought from the past. Everleigh would never risk such a thing though, the odds weren’t in their favor for this. Still too many unknowns.

“Yeah, I got it, don’t worry.” She lied, at least partly. If she couldn’t outright kill them, then she would only have to tear their bodies down. Two flat blades were taken from their hiding spots and she threw it up at the flying abomination, piercing through it’s wing which did cause it to drop a couple of feet in the air. It’s malformed head turned towards the two initiates, as if only registering then that they were closer than the house of the Kresselrings. It screeched and turning its body awkwardly around in the air, dove down to Zael and Evie.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

Zael broke off from Everleigh's side, cutting a path then straight toward the long fleshy cord to gain time.

This wasn't just another mission. This wasn't just another opportunity to get into a fight and incidentally get some good marks for it. Say what you will about the Revolution, but before it Zael only truly cared about one thing: fighting for the joy of fighting. What a difference just one year could make.

He wasn't just here for that now. The Kesselrings were good people, and they had a good thing going: a husband who loved his wife, a wife who loved her husband, sons who had a mom and a dad who loved them. They were a family. What Miklan had was worth defending.

Zael finally came within range, and he with a great overhead swing brought his sword cleaving down upon the long umbilical cord.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

The cord was cut, fragile despite it’s thickness. Out spilled blood, pooling quickly around Zael’s feet. The creature that had been flying froze, falling immediately down to the floor like a stone. A series of cracks and pops could be heard upon the impact. Everleigh felt her lips curved upwards, ever so slightly.

Perfect, so Zael was right, they just had to cut the cords and the beasts would be immobile!

As soon as the thought finished, the cord began squirming like a worm with a unnatural slimy slither back to reattach. Like when Edric healed fatal wounds or grew a whole new arm. Everleigh cursed, that poison unknown to her still drawing her closer and closer.

She brought her own sword down to sever the bone that connected the wing to the shoulder, hacking away for a moment before kicking it far away from the creature.

“Fuck!” Everleigh shouted, not moving back quick enough that the monster had latched it’s needle-like teeth into her boot. Thank goodness Anirian leather was thick and sturdy. The only good thing was that she could get a good angle at decapitating before shaking the head off.

The other monsters were now rushing towards them.

“We play this smart, cut the cord and disable them.” Everleigh said in passing to Zael. “We get no more than ten seconds until reattaches. No need to use magic, not yet.” One of the monsters seemed to be a mixture of a horse, but sticking out of his chest was a clearly human head— perhaps a head that had once belonged to one of the hunters that had stepped into the forest.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

"I hear that," Zael said, turning to face the oncoming shy-of-a-dozen abominations hurtling toward them. "Wouldn't want to burn myself out of a good fight anyway."

Neither his sword nor his fists discriminated but...what the hell were these things anyway? They were a big mix of everything and nothing at the same time, just a mish-mash of mismatched parts that didn't add up to any sensible whole. The one Ever just killed had some bird in it and added a little cow on the way over, and Horseface over here was a collision between a stallion and some poor bastard who went wandering into the wrong copse of trees.

Zael brought his sword up and to the ready. Without his Fireblood he'd be at normal speed, but that's what all the training without it was for. Can't always know when you were gonna go on a reckless rampage through a spooky forest and eat up your reserve of magic, so layers of offense and defense, yeah, layers. And here came the ol' trusty, the physical layer, just a man and his sword.

Zael went in. He didn't shout out some plan like "You get the cords, I'll take em down" or some such, nah. This was gonna be fluid. All intuition and trust. Maybe he'd get a cord or two, have to hold off one of the monsters, Ever finishes those previous two and cuts the current one's cord, he finishes that one, and like a crimson dance they wade through their grotesque foes, trading cord-cutting and foe-slaying duties like they were helping each other weave a basket.

"Over here, Horseface," Zael said the lead abomination. Probably it was the taunt as much as his proximity, but Horseface rushed toward him regardless.

He occupied the beast, cutting and parrying and keeping its attention on him.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

During situations like these it was best to not have a concrete plan. In truth, concrete plans were never Everleigh’s style to begin with. She liked to view herself like water more than like earth, even if it was in earth that stability was often found. When it came to fighting, however, Everleigh had focused on countering rather than just hitting hard and overwhelming right away. Although, yes, at times, it was better to do so right away.

Specifically, she had mastered countering counters, and that required one to be fluid. Everleigh was nowhere near the strongest or mightiest initiate, but as long as she avoided being hit and leading her opponent to feel sure in their counter, more often than not she could take the victory all for herself.

The issue was that beasts hardly countered. They either attacked or evaded, but there was no fancy footwork or battle strategy when they fought. And these… monsters, were hardly beasts. Their movements as they ran towards the initiate reminded her of marionettes, something uncanny and unnatural that made her skin crawl. There was no fluidity, or if there was any, it didn’t last long until one step caused them to buckle to the side or to trip over their feet and nearly fall.

Even with Horseface charging at Zael, with that thick slimy cord trailing behind it, Everleigh couldn’t help but think that there was no original thought. The others seemed to follow it’s lead, or maybe she was just imagining it as she cut the cord to then deal with another abomination which seemed to be made entirely out of rats and other rodents. Little rat feet stuck out in strange ways throughout it’s rotund, rotting form and a multitude of beady eyes were scattered along the stinking flesh.

It opened it’s mouth to showcase rows of rat and gopher teeth, and one of it’s paws seemed to belong to a badger while the other reminded Everleigh of a squirrel or raccoon.

Everleigh brought her sword down in a high arc, slicing her blade through the air and lodging it down onto the monster’s head, her sword only stopping between the abomination’s sets of eyes. She kicked it’s face, hearing a satisfying crunch of bone or perhaps rodent teeth— whichever would do.

Together Zael and Everleigh would make a field of carnage, cutting the cords, slicing off the flesh monsters’ limbs and heads. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t a challenge either. Tedious work that required them both to be careful and brutish.

All to Their plan.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

Ever sliced through Horseface's cord, and Zael popped back from a dodge as Horseface shivered and convulsed and he cleaved his sword through the thing's massive neck. He wasn't quite sure if it truly was the neck and what plopped to the ground was truly its head, so for good measure while Horseface was still stunned he drove his sword in and popped out the human face.

One of the two worked. Horseface fell back, twitching, and then was done.

On they went, Zael and Ever crisscrossing each other's paths, cutting cords and fighting/killing these various abominations in an artful sequence. As with Horseface, Zael assigned little names to each one he encountered. There was Hogwash, plump and piggly, its squealing accounting for more than half of all the noise these monsters were making, and damn did it feel good to shut him up. There was Charlotte, an amalgamation of a few different kinds of deer it looked like, with a crown of spider legs on its primary head; Charlotte actually got in a few good licks against his armor before Ever swooped by and took off of a few of those spindly legs. There was Cottontail, who seemed to be moving around ass first to present its namesake bunny parts to the world, and it was a bit tricky to circle around on him for a decapitation.

There were some others.

But it didn't matter much now. Now they were all big sacks of rotten meat strewn about the Kesselring ranch.

Zael pressed an armored palm to his forehead and wiped. "Hey, look at that, they got a little bit of sweat out of me." He grinned. "Sweat's both the lubrication and proof of any good fight."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Her eyebrow raised in a light-hearted question to Zael’s comment about sweat, but knowing Zael as she did, Everleigh could only imagine that he did like sweating and having some sort of proof to show. Everleigh’s proof was her dark hair plastered to her brow and her braid being quite messy. But, something wasn’t sitting right with her.

Perhaps she was just used to something bigger and badder happening—

“Why are you two just standing there?!” Everleigh turned around, looking to see proctor Palahniuk running towards them, shouting and waving his arms. That was when she realized all the blood that had once been spilling out was slowly being pulled back into the copse of trees. Although as soon as Everleigh noticed it, it was no longer a slow progression at all.

Viscera and gristle began whipping past Zael and Everleigh to form an even larger monstrosity of decaying body parts. The cords that they had cut through combined together as the giant rose up on two legs.

Whereas the other monsters could be discerned by various animal parts, this giant monster, standing at at least fourteen feet tall, took on a more humanoid appearance. Bones jutted out here and there and muscle and sinew could easily be seen. It was strange how its abdomen seemed to be slashed open, and Everleigh could see various guts and organs inside. As if it actually needed such things.

Upon better inspection, the purple initiate realized that it was just stuffed with all sorts of organs, having multiple livers and kidneys crammed into a tight place. There was still a cord attached to it, but instead at the stomach it was now behind it, like a long thick tail. As far as Everleigh could tell, she saw no eyes or nose or mouth.

“Ebersol! Castomir!” Palahniuk was beside them, his face red and not because he was running. He looked pissed off. “You two idiots! Where did the little boy run off to?! His mother is mad enough to—“

“We didn’t see Miklan.” Everleigh said, then glanced at Zael. “I didn’t see Miklan.” She corrected and then looked to the monster. It took one step, and Everleigh swore that the ground shook under it’s weight. Something that big should move slowly, shouldn’t it? But in the next second, it rushed towards the group— moving at incredibly fast speeds.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

Right on time to ruin the moment, Proctor P. Was that part of his magic? Knowing exactly how to fuck up other people's day with his presence?

Zael didn't have much time to ponder the mysteries of Proctor P's perfected assholery. Everleigh noticed it much sooner than he did, and it was only after the Giant of Flesh was formed, with all the wet slapping of muscle coming together and harsh cracking of bones rearranging, that Zael heard it and looked over his shoulder.

"What...the...f—?"

Ebersol! Castomir!

Proctor P finally came up beside them, fuming over something stupid no doubt. Look, they just got done slaying these monstrosities, yeah, there was one big fucker left to go before they cleaned out that haunted copse, but what more could Proctor P want?

Then he said it, where did the little boy run off to, and Zael felt his heart drop into his stomach. He might have paled a bit in fright for Miklan. He didn't know. He honestly didn't care. Proctor P could dole out whatever punishment he wanted later.

Zael glanced to Everleigh. Said, "I didn't see him either."

A little rumble of thunder—might as well have been—heralded the Giant's first aggressive step, and Zael's sword ignited into flames.

"But we can't leave this fucker to run amok."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

​

“You already have!” Proctor Palahniuk shouted, somehow his face getting more red. He reached a hand outward towards the giant of gristle and sinew, and when he curled his fingers into a fist Everleigh could hear a powerful ice blast swirling around. The chinks of ice cascading against each other was like a high-pitched symphony of chirping birds and wind chimes. It was grating and soothing altogether, the air all around them cooling.

Proctor Palahniuk was a slacker of a proctor, no one would deny such a thing. The initiates disliked him more than his peers did, and that was saying something. But no one could deny his right as a second-level dreadlord. If it weren’t for that fatal knee and lower back injury at the age of thirty he would have made it to first level.

His mastery over ice was fearsome, even if it seemed contrary to his lazy disposition.

The screaming beam of a vicious blizzard connected with the giants foot, freezing it solid. Proctor Palahniuk began the intricate process of freezing the giant’s blood. The giant fell over, stumbling down to one knee. It’s head still faced the initiates, reaching out a hand towards them.

It’s fingers blasted forth, blood-projectiles that were hardening into sharp spikes that were as strong as iron. Like a whip they curved and arced through the air, thin strands of blood still keeping the solid spikes connected to the giant. Two went for Everleigh, two went for Zael, and only one flew towards Proctor Palahniuk.

Everleigh sidestepped one to use her sword to parry another, but the two spikes focusing on her were relentless. She ducked and weaved, her steel blade unable to break the spikes that continued to strike at her in tandem. They aimed for her neck, her heart, her soft gut, her face. Whistling by her ear as she danced around them to then block the other with her sword.

With the speed and precision of these moving projectiles, Everleigh could only stay on the defensive. Briefly did she look over to see Palahniuk who had bravely caught a single blood spike that had pierced through his palm. Still using his magic, the projectile only made it halfway through before being frozen, and that strand of blood that lead back to the giant’s hand was crackling as it began to freeze.

Everleigh heard something break, allowing her attention to go back to the giant. It stood up, leaving behind it’s foot that Palahniuk had frozen. It stepped forward, using other bits and pieces of itself to make a new foot. Then it began to run toward them again.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

No time to be stingy with his magic.

Zael took off into the air with a burst of flames from his back. The two blood spikes arced up in response and just barely missed his legs, each one shrieking by. They course corrected, now zipping back the way they had come in a further attempt to intercept Zael. No time to be stingy, alright. Like Everleigh below, Zael had to dodge the spikes or be skewered. He twisted and turned in the air, jets of flame and little explosions steering his body in hasty evasion and this effort eating up much of his concentration—it wasn't easy to fly like this, knowing where and when to use his propelling fire.

The Giant was in motion again, shrugging off Proctor P's best Proctor Kimble impersonation. Zael knew he'd have one clean shot at it as he went by, and then he'd likely have other problems to worry about.

He was upside-down in the air and sailing at a slight tangent to the Giant. He held out his flaming sword with both hands, bracing.

And he felt his sword cleave into grotesque flesh at the same time the blood spikes battered into his armor from behind.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

A loud roar came from the mass of flesh as Zael’s fiery sword pierced through the red and rotting flesh. The cry of pain was instantaneous with the sickly-sweet stench of burning meat. Zael had pierced through the giant’s head, and immediately gristle and sinew were rendered into a bubbling mess that cascaded down the giant’s head with thick plumes of smoke.

Despite Zael’s attack on the giant, the projectiles didn’t stop. The one in Proctor Palahniuk’s hand stopped completely, now completely frozen. With a easy jerk of his arm, the entire length of the projectile shattered into a multitude of pieces in a tinkle of icy clinks and chimes.

Everleigh had managed to avoid any serious injuries from the projectiles, although if one took notice they could see that her light armor had been sliced in various places. She was bleeding but it was nothing to keep her from falling down in defeat.

Due to Zael’s attack she was able to use the crimson-stained steel of her sword to slice off the head of a projectile and then slice the other incoming one till it split apart vertically. Nothing else seemed to attack her, giving her the opening. Looking at the giant and at Zael driving his sword down further, she realized that the giant was now focusing on projectiles attacking Zael who was the more obvious threat.

She had a opening. She could see that thick cord which fueled the giant.

Everleigh ran to the giant unhindered, sliding between it’s thick legs and ignoring the atrocious smell. She angled her sword upwards, beginning at the base of the cord and cutting through the thick, gooey membrane. With eyes glowing gold, she could the giant tremble above her. She’d had to be quick if she didn’t want to be crushed.

With one free hand she gripped her blade, grunting as she cut deeply into her palm. Blood poured freely and without hesitate she struck her hand into the closing wound. She wasn’t sure if she could poison this thing to death like she normally could, but whatever was filtering out the poison from it originally she hoped it was the cord.

Maybe if she could get to the source…

She followed the cord back to those small woods. She knew where the source was. There was only one place where it could be.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

That was a hit.

But the Giant didn't take that lying down. Those blood spikes were jabbing into the back of his armor like thrusts from a set of spears, and they harassed Zael all the way back down to the ground. His landing was rough, having to right him beforehand and being assaulted still the second his feet touched earth.

Zael whirled and, to his mild alarm, saw that it was more than two blood spikes stabbing at him now. He was draining arcane reserves like mad, but he didn't have much of a choice. He swung his flaming sword in defensive motions, spraying out Fireblasts when the slim opportunities presented themselves. All but one of the tendrils with their attached blood spikes fell away, severed and burned, yet the last got through.

The spike tore past Zael, cutting open his right cheek and grazing his neck.

He spun around from the strike, cursing, "Son of a bitch!"

Then with an upward wrench of his fiery sword he severed the last blood spike, buying himself a small reprieve. He carefully raised an armored hand to touch the wound on his face and hissed when the mere touch of the metal stung the flesh, and he resigned himself to dealing with it until the fight was finished. There was at least some breadth of flesh between the corner of his lip and the oblong hole in his cheek.

Zael turned back, catching sight then of Everleigh between the trunk-like legs of the Giant, her hand plunged into a wound where the fleshy cord connected to the beast.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Without any warning, although perhaps from Proctor Palahniuk’s vantage of not being the fray could he have seen what was happening, the giant pivoted.

Everleigh looked up and only had enough time to brace herself for impact. The giant’s leg swung out and sent Everleigh flying. Her hand was ripped out from the fleshy-cord. In a daze, all that Everleigh saw was stars, quite literally. The night sky was glimmering above her as if she wasn’t in a fight.

Before she could hit the ground, which most definitely would have shattered her bones, she felt a gust of cool air beneath her. It softened her fall, even though she did end up rolling around for a moment. The breath was knocked out of her. She turned her head, seeing Proctor Palahniuk and knew that he was the one to soften her fall.

Perhaps he could have done more, but right now he had his left held up high in the air. His hand was glowing a pale blue, air and arcane sparkles swirling around it. Proctor Palahniuk was talking— no he was chanting a spell. Seven sigils appeared in front of him, creating a large circle in front of him.

The scream of a raging storm out at sea, the echoes of the deep. A roar that sounded more like a siren’s song echoed around for a second, and then errupting from Proctor Palahniuk’s arcane circle was a torrent of water. The smell of rain, the smell of fresh running water, the smell of the sea, all of it was one and the same as it invaded Everleigh’s nostrils.

It hit the giant sqaure in his chest, pushing him back and getting him unbalanced. With a mighty roar of more magical incantations, the gushing flood began to freeze, not a single droplet would be spared.

Everleigh slowly began the process of standing up, wincing and placing a hand gingerly to her ribs and then her clavicle. Well it looked like she may have some broken bones after all.

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

Eliminate the threat first, then check on Everleigh. She took a hell of a wallop from the Giant's leg, but she was getting up on her own and outwardly at a glance looked to be okay. Even if she wasn't, aid couldn't be rendered until the enemy was slain and/or security gained—a battlefield principle drilled not just into Initiates of the Academy.

Proctor P was busy showing that, while he was an asshole and kind of lazy at times, there was a reason he was a Proctor. The front of the Giant was battered by the torrent and the freeze, and so maybe Zael could slip in to the back and try to cut that cord. Payback for his cheek.

He was going to be running on arcane fumes for whatever came next, but so be it. Zael ignited another burst of propelling flame at his back and went rocketing toward the connecting cord, wounded and weakened already by Ever's earlier assault.

But the Giant, either through dumb luck or keen awareness, brought one of its legs back at the last second. Zael couldn't avert a collision. He smacked into the leg at an angle and when twirling and spinning, flames shooting erratically out in his spiral, through the air and he hit the ground some distance away hard.

When at last he came to a stop, lying flat in the dirt, he grimaced and said, "You're a...cheeky bastard, aren't you?"

As if in response, the wound on his cheek flared up with immense stinging pain.

"Poor choice of words," he said, mustering the strength to stand again.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Damn idiots,” Proctor Palahniuk cursed, still focusing his arcane might of freezing that giant in place. “‘Oh Peter, we have a great idea!’” He squealed in a high-pitched, nasally voice as he mocked one of the proctors that may have well been Proctor D’Amour’s twin with her stupid ideas. “‘We’re going to have you chaperone Intiate Dumb and and Initiate Dumber, it’s been awhile since they’ve had a proctor to shadow them. The mission should be a easy one, you’ll have the simplest report to do. I promise.’” Somehow, remembering the stupid face and that stupid voice, on top of having to saving Castomir and Ebersol really got underneath Peter Palahniuk’s skin.

Here he was, on a Tuesday, having to do his damn job. This was supposed to be the easy way out, build up a few more years in the guard and then have a nice, lovely retirement. He wanted a bachelor pad all to himself, paid off, in the center of Vel Anir, overlooking the fountain with Anireth raising his sword up high. Right across from that cafe he liked, with it’s small espresso cups and flaky croissants. That gilded square was in perfect walking distance to Glaive Oils, the one between Beef Palace and Vel Brea Bakery. That butcher shop had the finest collection of cured meats and deli-sandwiches….

He’d spend his mornings finishing a page of sudoku at the cafe and taking his time to drink the espresso, even if he could finish it in one gulp. Then for lunch he’d head over to Beef Palace, get his favorite Supreme Sandwich with extra vinegar, oil and salt and pepper. He’d purchase a center-cut filet, and before heading back home he’d get a long, skinny loaf of bread and a bottle of Glaive rosemary and garlic-infused olive oil.

“STOP FUCKING MOVING AROUND!” He roared at the giant as it kicked at Zael. His daydream dissipated as he realized he’d have to write the longest report ever, thanks to the Republic, if both of these idiots died from getting kicked around. “Four more years, I only have four more years of this bullshit!” He screamed to no one in particular.

Somehow, as if fueled by his rage, the arcane circle grew even larger and wider. For a moment, nothing came out of it like a dry well. The air fizzled ecstatically around them all.

Everleigh stood up, every hair on her skin standing alert, covered in gooseflesh. The air all around them chilled, and when she breathed out, she could see her breath. She wanted to shout, believing Zael to still be close to the giant. A hint of flame from his spiral somewhat put her at ease.

With a unnatural roar, from the growing arcane circle, it came forth. A beast from the deepest, darkest, dangerous depths of Arethil.

Red and white scales that poured out water whipped forward. Everleigh could catch it’s eyes, far too wise and knowing to just belong to a beast. This creature, this water spirit— whatever it was, was something Everleigh would possibly never experience again.

It was like looking into the void, she was mesmerized and unable to do anything but look at it’s greatness. Her mind hardly comprehended how such a ancient being could be brought forth from a proctor she hardly respected.

When it made contact with the giant, the seemingly physical form was reduced to water, like a monster outs wave in a stormy sea. It washed over the giant, and through the last of Proctor Palahniuk’s efforts, froze over.

Strangely enough, as it all froze over, Everleigh could see strange sea-creatures trapped within the waves of the sea-dragon. Jelly-fish and spiked crustaceans with cruel and unusual looking fish. The giant tried to fight back, but it was like a man who thought he could fight the flow of the sea. It was a hopeless and useless fight, and soon enough, he was captured. The chill in the air didn’t dissipate, especially not with the iceberg-sized block of ice that kept the flesh giant in place.

The arcane circle left in a bright flash of blue and as Proctor Palahniuk fell down to his knees, he seemed to have aged ten or more years.

“Four more years left, Peter.” He whispered to himself. Somehow, through only the vigor a dreadlord could have, the proctor stood up on both feet.

“CASTOMIR. EBERSOL. GET YOUR LAZY ASSES OVER HERE.”

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

If somebody had told this story to Zael, he would have said that they were a boldfaced liar.

But here he was, seeing it with his own eyes, Proctor P, of all Proctors, casting a summon which Zael could barely comprehend. The only way that he could comprehend it—through the thick veil of awe which had arrested his body and mostly arrested his thoughts—was through humor. Was that how Palahniuk secured his career as a Proctor? Hey, look, sorry, we already have a Proctor who tosses ice around and who's a downright prick missing a left ball, but best of luck to—what's that? Oh? You can summon what? Show us. Holy Kress on a cliff, you're hired. Right now. No, hush, Harkenov, did you see the size of his snake? There's a few lonely Proctors who will appreciate it.

Yet despite his attempts to make light of it, Zael's mouth did not twitch in the slightest toward a grin or a smile. He stood, watching, as the Giant was encased in an actual iceberg, lips parted and expression painted over by naked astonishment. More distant than his attempt at humor was this thought: what might I be capable of one day?

Zael had to shake himself out of this reverie when Proctor P shouted his and Ever's names and bid them to hurry the fuck over to him.

The flames of Zael's sword winked out, and with this he took his first steps. Gingerly, testing his bruises and his aches, but quickly coming into a run which placed him promptly by Proctor P in short order.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh heard Proctor Palahniuk’s order, and while she was on her own two feet, running over was a… well, it was one of the more uncomfortable things she had to do so far this year. Still, she managed a brisk jog, but was noticeably slower than usual. Zael had gotten to Proctor Palahniuk first, and having to wait for one initiate seemed to put the proctor in a even fouler mood.

“What’s wrong with you?” He snapped.

“Broken ribs. Maybe my clavicle too.” Everleigh answered honestly, then paused. “And possibly a bone in my left foot, or a tendon.”

“Of course.” Proctor Palahniuk said, inspecting the gash on Zael’s face. “Well. That settles it.” Everleigh glanced over to Zael. “Something tells me that ugly bastard is a byproduct of whatever the hell is going on here. What was with your stunt with the cord? You left yourself open because of it.” He looked towards Everleigh.

“I think the cord leads back to the woods. I think, maybe it’s like a puppet string of some sort, a way to control and sustain the magic required. So I thought I could poison the source. I guess I was wrong.” Everleigh answered. How it related back to those illusions they had faced, Everleigh wasn’t sure. But things were becoming clear to her: there was a poison within these strange beasts, how it worked she wasn’t sure. Also, blood was the conduit, and it was through blood that these horrors could come about. It made sense why the forest seemed to be a hide-out, as it also allowed good access to the ranch and the livestock that surely sustained whatever was in the woods.

“Maybe,” Everleigh ventured, “it’s a coven of witches.” Proctor Palahniuk let out a sharp bark of a laugh.

“Witches? In Vel Anir?” Palahniuk coughed and cleared his throat. He paused, considering it. “Well, this is near the outskirts. A little too close to Cortos but…” He shook his head. “If it is witches then Initiate Castomir can burn them all to the ground. Witches hate fire.”

Zael Castomir

 

[Zael Castomir]

Proctor Palahniuk's hospitality was legendary. Amazing. Stupendous. All of those Kristen words. With one flat Of course he dismissed Ever's injuries, and with a quick once-over he dismissed Zael's. Proctor P had the "not giving a shit" part of being a Dreadlord down pat, especially when it came to the female Initiates.

Witches. Huh, well, Zael hadn't considered that. Sure would explain the disembodied female voices he'd heard once he went past the veil and burned himself out.

And speaking of being burned out.

"That I can do," Zael lied with all confidence. Maybe he had one Fireblast in him, maybe; the fight with the Giant stole what little was available of his arcane reserves, and he'd be dipping in some dangerous territory if he tried to go beyond the limit.

But whatever he had to say to get Proctor P out of their face, he'd say it. Because Proctor P might not give a shit (outside of it looking bad on paperwork), but Miklan was still missing, and yeah, maybe this was the first time on a mission where he could say so, but Zael cared. He cared about the boy's future alright.

Everleigh Ebersol