A Legacy of Blades - An Epic Tower Fantasy

Razhik sank beneath the water's surface, not fighting the pull of gravity. His head swam, despite his body sinking, throbbing from the aftereffects of the blast.

Won't be any good to anyone until I can at least see straight again.

His body ached from whiplash and being thrown like a stone across the water, but his pride ached more still. He hadn't been specifically targeted; he was merely collateral damage. Whatever blew up hadn't even been aimed at him, but here he was suffering the insult of being accidentally injured.

Gods, this is worse than being intentionally attacked by far. The least they could have done would be to have the decency to know they were assaulting a King, I mean, really. The audacity of it all. There you were, just minding your business and picking off stragglers, not even getting involved in the thick of it like that madwoman.

A shiver ran down his spine, remembering the utterly passive, focused look on Anilith's face as she surgically decimated her foes. Efficiency hadn't known its worth before that girl stepped into battle. Razhik had seen many more dangerous beasts in his years, but Anilith demonstrated a prescience, an awareness, that scared him more thoroughly than any overwhelming power ever had. He would face down a squad of ogre-kin alone before choosing to fight her, and not just because she was now his precious subject.

An ogre he could escape from, but that monster…she had tremendous strength when she needed it, and could swiftly chase him down if he wasn't able to escape into the shadows. Even if he did, it was only so long before she learned another new way of seeing the damned world.

As he sank to the bottom of the pond, a dozen feet down, he thought, I really missed my chance to end that threat, the day Orion introduced me to her. Still, dangerous as she is, she's what the old man needs. Let the gods condemn this whole Tower; he's worth more than most of these wastrels combined. They both are, and she's gonna bring change to this whole little world.

A grin split his wide, toothed maw as the lingering effects of the blast faded. Time to get back in there, I guess. A King must protect his people, after all.

Razhik reached for the shadows, ready to step back into his domain and find the insolent creatures who had dared strike him by accident, when he felt a tugging sensation that gave him pause. It wasn't a physical tug, more, well, he couldn't say what it was exactly, but it led him to a path he didn't know existed. Simultaneously, it sparked an idea he'd long discarded.

Always, he had used his magic to supplement his natural gifts. He was fast, sharp, and deadly. It was only natural that his magic should help him capitalize on those traits, and he had used his lightlessness to become unparalleled in the art of the ambush. Even recently, he had discovered only new ways to enhance his established path, but he sensed, somehow, that more was possible. Then there was that tug…it teased him in a new direction.

Letting the sensation take the reins, his eyes widened when he realized where it was leading him.

Orion, you wonderful rascal, what have you done? His grin grew wider still, a sharpened darkness glossing over his visage. Oh, the things we can do with this.

Not wanting to wait another moment, Razhik surged to the surface, breaking through with a momentous splash. In the refracted light of water droplets, he stepped back into the shadows, weaving between the light.

The fun had only begun.

Blinding, burning light lit the battlefield, then echoed twice in quick succession. Orion, his eyes locked on the fray as they were, couldn't shake the afterimages burned into his retinas.

What in the gods' names was that?

He remained hidden far enough away that he was in no immediate danger, and the successive shockwaves hadn't deafened him, yet the battlefield had fallen eerily silent.

Whatever had just happened, it put a pause on the entire conflict. Neither side, from the sound of things, was unaffected by the series of massive disturbances.

Knew things were goin' too well for us, always has to be a shake-up. Gobs must have been desperate to kill our momentum, crazy bastards. Well, I'd say mission accomplished, there. Can only hope they took out a fair number of their own with that stunt.

Orion couldn't help but blink rapidly and rub his eyes, trying to clear the lingering effects of the explosion. He needed to see what was happening.

She's all alone out there! At least the first blast didn't look too close to where I saw her last, but can't say I saw where the other two went off. Where is she, damn it?

Despite his efforts, his vision remained obscured. The long claws of panic began to grab hold of his chest, but he pushed them away. She'd come out the other side of impossible situations before; this wouldn't be any different.

C'mon, kid, get out of there if you can, before the crazy bastards find their senses!

Orion put everything he had into trying to catch even a glimpse of the state of the battle, to no avail. He closed his eyes to give them a chance to recover, frustrated at their uselessness.

Gah, you old useless fool. Ain't you learned by now that you just can't beat your luck? Tryin' to ride the coattails of the girl's fortune. You knew, deep down, that was never goin' to work. You got her into this mess, Orion, and it's up to you to get her out of it. Think!

Focusing on his breathing, the way he'd seen the girl do so many times, Orion did his best to emulate her discipline. He was fairly certain she didn't even appreciate how rare a thing that level of discipline was, especially here, where folks gave up on anything that was hard the minute they saw the challenge.

He'd certainly given up his hopes of ever changing anything, and yet here he stood, on the precipice of a more meaningful change than the Tower had seen in the…

…gods, could it be centuries? It can't be more than that, could it?

A few times over the years, he'd found someone who'd rekindled his hope, but they'd been dragged down by his shite luck, time and again. Fate had proven itself a whimsical thing, putting all those people in his path only to sever the budding connections. Each time, it had grown harder to pull himself out of that dark pit, but every stumble had led him here, to her.

He couldn't let hope fail again. He knew, inherently, that he wouldn't recover this time. He couldn't let those he kept alive in his memories fade, either. That left him with only one real option.

Save the girl.

Gods, she makes this look so easy, Orion thought as he searched within himself for…anything. Damnable girl, able to find the Earth or the Wind within her, some resonating load of crap, and here I can't make heads or tails of my own mess.

His focus revealed a knotted bundle of threads somewhere below his navel, he'd say, if he had to place it. He witnessed it in a disembodied sort of way, as if floating within himself. Some of the threads were severed, serving no purpose but to nurture the tangle, but most trailed off…elsewhere.

Dig deep, you useless sad-sack! This has to mean something. Ain't gotta solve it all, just find a useful piece and give it a tug. Gently.

The Wanderer mentally sifted through the threads, isolating the severed strands, careful not to break anything further as he pondered what he was looking at. It had to have something to do with his magic, and he'd had enough time to figure out some of how that worked, weird as his aptitude was.

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He'd found its applications to be pretty limited in combat, using it mainly exhausted him over a feat he could achieve without aid. It was, however, handy in other ways. Helped him make friends like Razhik, after all. Orion hadn't met another of Razhik's kind, and the creature didn't like to speak on it, but the man knew that Razhik was more special than he let on. Even if he was close-lipped on the matter, the creature's pride spoke to his unique nature.

Orion had always wondered if his connection with the beast had anything to do with what made the creature so idiosyncratic. However, as with most isolated phenomena, it had proven difficult to test the theory. His other friends like Razhik weren't any more inclined to speak on the matter, either.

None of that helped Orion in this moment, but thinking of Razhik pulled his mind towards a particularly robust thread, and a sapling of understanding bloomed in his mind.

Connections…they've been here all along? That's…more than I can unpack right now. Focus, Orion, focus! Can I find the girl through this?

He sifted through the threads as quickly as he gently could, searching for anything that might feel of the girl. Every time he approached a severed connection, he feared the worst, but none of them spoke to him.

Finally, he felt a whisper of the girl, and he pulled the thread to him. It felt like hours passed, so many connections had drifted across his perception, the memories associated with each seeping into his thoughts. Steeling his concentration, drawing on the discipline he admired in the girl, he pulled his companions' threads together.

For a moment, he left his mental palace and focused on his external senses. His eyes still failed him, and only the barest hint of sound reached him. He focused on a few: the clatter of metallic scraping, the moans of unknown injuries, and the growing shrieks of monsters. It didn't sound like he'd been out of sorts for hours.

As the screams and jeering grew louder, a slow, creeping cackle raised itself above the garbled din. Somewhere out there, something was reveling in the suffering.

Orion dove back to his unknown sanctum.

Don't be too late, again. Her thread's still here, so's Razh's, just…what do I do with them?

He couldn't help but notice how frail Anilith's looked next to the rope-like twine of Razhik's thread. Hope whispered that it was only because hers was such a new connection, while Razh's had grown for centuries. Panic rebuffed the notion, and anxiety's grip tightened, his inner world appearing to darken around him. A foreign breathlessness pushed him further into its clutches.

Only the memories emanating from the strands he sheltered helped him keep his calm. On a whim, he pulled them towards his inner ego. Where the threads met his disembodied 'self,' a new connection formed.

His awareness spread in a way he'd never known, not seeing the world, he knew his sight still failed him, but feeling it in a way that words couldn't capture. He knew, beyond a doubt, that this was a gift from Anilith. It felt…muted, and he swayed uneasily as his mind reeled from the sensory overload.

How…how does she sift through all this noise?

Orion forced his mind to narrow, focusing only on the battlefield, and forcing the rest of the information from his mind. It was crude and an imperfect solution, but kept him from collapsing.

The Grokar forces were in disarray, only the juggernauts not having been thrown by the blast. What few hydromancers he could find, well, they did not look to be much use in a fight anymore. Most dove into the waters, retreating from the battlefield and leaving a wall of their larger brethren to hold the line.

The enemy forces weren't in a much better state. They had three massive holes in their ranks, and Orion would hazard a guess that they'd lost more than a few of their rank-and-file to the explosions. Even accounting for that loss, though, they held an advantage in numbers. Worse yet, from what he could sense, it didn't seem like they'd lost many of their most powerful forces.

A large group of goblins, emanating menace, gathered at the rear of the shambling army, organizing for a greater offensive. The enemy was prepared to capitalize on their gambit, it seemed.

The Wanderer drew back his bow and nocked an arrow, preparing to even the odds. Releasing, his shot went wide as he struggled to adjust his aim properly for his new perspective. Scoffing at his own failure, he drew again and called on his only combat magic, which he typically reserved for the most difficult shots, connecting his arrow with the path to his target.

Witnessing the arrow sink into its target, he felt comfortable spreading his newfound awareness down the thread that led to Razh. It felt natural to him, and he marveled that he'd been blind to this aspect of…him.

As his connection with Razhik condensed, he felt feedback from the other end. He wasn't sure what Razhik had been doing, waiting at the bottom of the nearby lake, but he felt a fleeting sense of a budding idea, followed by confusion, before a spark of joy and wonder fed back across the strand.

He felt Razhik rocket from the depths, an explosion of water announcing his presence, even as he faded from view.

As he drew another arrow, Orion noticed that he could still sense Razhik, but more than that, he could feel every shadow in the area.

"Go get her, Razh," Orion said with a smile, even as he drew again. The goblins were about to discover how much momentum their little group had left. "Don't count us out yet, you crazy bastards."

Anilith felt concussed, more than anything, and the ringing would not quit. She was immobilized by a mass of flesh, and movement proved nearly impossible. Stowing her blades in her ring, she drew upon the Earth to claw her way to the surface.

It was like crawling through mud, mud that fought back for every inch of progress, sometimes grabbing hold of her with sharpened nails, sometimes jabbing her with pointy objects. The only saving grace was that none of the bodies had the room to execute a deadly attack. Pricks and stab wounds covered her by the time she crested the fleshy sea, but they were nothing next to the breathlessness of the situation.

Anilith was so pressed on all sides that what little breathable air existed was stolen by the time it reached her, sapped by greedy lungs, eager for one more breath. The suffocation brought upon by breathing air that had been drained of its most vital components was something she would never forget.

In short, it was an experience worthy of nightmares and would likely surface in the dark hours of the night, accompanied by a cold, unwilling sweat.

As she broke through to fresh air, her wheezing lungs inhaling voraciously, she became aware of a tugging at her senses. She shifted back to a Wind's eye view and felt an unfamiliar pressure in her ability, almost as if someone else were piggybacking on her power. At the same time, she became instinctively aware of Orion's location, as well as the wonder he felt as, she suddenly realized, he experienced a fraction of the world she witnessed.

She pushed her way free from the flesh-ridden mass, but couldn't escape entirely. Despite her strength, the moment the goblins laid eyes on someone so different from them, they made it their mission to drag her down. The feeling of unwanted hands pawing at her brought with it the taste of bile, but she couldn't escape the tangle, and her desperation grew. Her eyes widened and her breath quickened, each moment overstaying its welcome.

Before her, materializing in a blur of liquid shadow, Razhik came to her rescue, giving her something concrete to pull herself to. She hugged herself tightly to his back, the moment she was free, and hardly noticed the umber sheen to his body. She was free from those hands, that incessant pricking, and that was all that mattered.

Even if no bodily damage had been done, she recoiled from the experience and shrank into Razhik's comfort, even as he tore the assaulting parties to shreds with shadow given form.

It wasn't until the creature dropped her off by Orion that she became aware of her surroundings again, and by then, Razhik had disappeared into the fray again, while Orion loosed arrow after arrow. Quivers lay discarded by the handful, their purpose fully realized.

Breathing deeply, appreciating the cool air as she served as a conduit for her friends' eyes, Anilith struggled to overcome the helplessness she'd felt while engulfed in the stampede of creatures. By the time she fully returned to her senses, the battle was in its final stages.

A sense of connection, familiar to her and yet novel, tied her to her allies. Following the sensation, she noticed it came from Orion. As much as it seemed to draw strength from her, sharing her abilities with her allies, it empowered her with foreign strength. In the midst of battle, there wasn't time to explore the connection and the benefits it brought her. More than ever before, her senses proved a lynchpin for their operation.

Consciously taking stock of the battlefield, she saw that the Grokar maintained only a portion of their former forces, even if she saw remarkably few corpses bearing their telltale markings. The goblins, however, had been decimated. As much damage as their trap had done, the explosions had nearly equaled its destruction.

Limbs lay scattered, scorched earth and blood mingling and imbuing the air with a charred, earthy, metallic scent. Devastation on this scale had only ever existed for Anilith in the days of her imagined glory. The truth of the experience proved far more hollow, more terrible, than the beauty of countless songs.

"How easy it is to forget that in moments such as this, to stop for even a moment is to die. Thank you for the lesson, family of mine." A sense of acknowledgement echoed back down the connection following her words, a wave of shock spreading through her.

Even as the scene washed over her and the depth of this strange connection dawned on Anilith, her friends continued, unrelenting in their fervor.

Seeing the damage her friends and allies had wrought upon the enemy, and the horde that still remained, she felt overcome by a cold, analytic anger as she scanned the battlefield, searching for the first target of her retribution. No matter that she was relatively unscathed, she would make them pay for the helplessness she'd suffered, but she would take no joy in the lesson.

Some things, for better or worse, simply needed to be done.