Re:Cursed

The bone bullet ripped through the fabric of her robe as she spun out of the way. It skimmed skin, but left little more than a scratch. Nyxil had been expecting something, and her heart rate remained at a rapid thump. The increased reaction speed gave her all the time she needed to catch the boy's attempt, and slip out of the way.

Her hand fell to her blade and she leapt forward. It closed the distance between them, but mostly it just gave her space from the real threat. Nyxil hated turning away from an opponent, but when she glanced at K'Sill, she found the woman hadn't moved.

Why wouldn't she act in an ambush? Did she really think Nyxil would come to trust her?

No. That wasn't it. As Nyxil ran for the boy who shot her, his handgun folded upon a bony wrist joint, and became a blade. More of a long knife than a sword. He ran to meet blades with her, but there was something wrong. His eyes weren't in it.

He was frustrated, yet resolved. Resigned to an act he didn't want to follow through, there was no malice for Nyxil in his gaze.

Only moments before she'd unsheathed her sword and crossed blades with the single evolution boy, the Fleshsmiths' game unveiled in her mind. If she fought here, she would fail.

Nyxil's hand left her blade, and she flipped over the fleshforged weapon. Her wing strained against its binding cloth. Each tentacle wanted to slip free and strike the young Fleshsmith, but she held them back. Landing behind him, she ran to make distance.

No matter how much the Fleshsmiths wanted to bait her into a fight, she couldn't bite.

Her forced pacifism was only made more difficult as the boy shifted his blade back into a gun and shot at her. She dodged easily enough. The weapon was beyond what any prospective cultist could afford on their own. Guns were expensive; fleshforged ones, more-so. A gift, most likely, to sacrifice his position in the Trials to take Nyxil down.

Round after round came her way as she ran for the nearest biotower for cover. She was glad he lacked any abilities to enhance his weapon. When the boy had fired a dozen times — half coming close enough that she had to dodge — she finally sent an exasperated look towards the observers.

The small crowd of cult representatives watched on with interest, but none stepped forward to intervene. She looked for a Technocultist. The only group she trusted to remain mostly fair, but there wasn't any. Either she was unlucky and they didn't have the numbers to fill this specific token location, or the Fleshsmiths had done something to get rid of them.

She frowned at the rest of the cultists. Was this just them turning a blind eye because it wasn't one of their own being attacked? After all, why should they care if there were two participants unaffiliated with themselves that took each other out of the competition?

Well, Nyxil narrowed her eyes. If they aren't going to act, then I'll bring the fight to them.

In rhythm with her breathing, she slammed her foot into the earth and shifted directions. Instead of running for the cover of a biotower, she moved straight for the observers.

The Fleshsmith boy shooting after her mustn't have realised where she was going, because he continued to fire wildly. A small bone pellet skimmed past her shoulder and struck some Bodytwister's head. Or, it would have, if the man hadn't caught the projectile.

Some of the cultists around him weren't so lucky.

It was strange to see so many cultists go from apathetic amusement, to panic. Some even dived to avoid the spray of gunfire launched their way. Nyxil had to remind herself that this was still the second trial, and not many of the observers were harbingers, or even held a significant evolution. They were just filling numbers to watch children.

But… Nyxil's plan worked.

The cultists were much quicker to strike down and punish the boy when it was themselves who were attacked rather than some kid they had no reason to care for.

The Bodytwister observer was out in front of Nyxil's attacker and snatching away his weapon before the boy even realised where he'd been shooting. The Fleshsmith acolyte reached for his gun. Panic and offence plastered the boy's face at the loss of his fleshforged gun. All his reaction garnered was a slap to the hands as the Bodytwister gripped the handgun as if he would crush it.

"You knew the rules. For attacking another participant, you fail this Trial and shall be given a penalty."

It took the boy a moment to gather himself. A red welt was already forming on his hand where he'd been struck. The Bodytwister certainly hadn't held back… well, not enough. While frustrated, the kid wasn't surprised. He accepted the declaration with grit teeth, and looked up to the Fleshsmith amongst the observers.

There was a tinge of fear in his eyes.

Nyxil hadn't fought back, so his task had been a failure. There was no doubt he'd be worried that the Fleshsmiths might not accept him now that he didn't achieve what they'd demanded from him. He could be cultless tomorrow.

She didn't pity him. He'd done this to himself.

"The girl deserves to fail as well." K'Sill stepped forward, and Nyxil didn't bother to hide her glare. "She attacked the boy earlier. This was his attempt to finish what she'd started." She turned to address the observer for the boy's team. "Isn't that right?"

Of course, the observer just happened to be Zan'Asyll. The Fleshsmith from Nyxil's first Trial.

"Yes." He nodded. "Hardly as one-sided as she made it seem."

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"Oh, go cry to S͍̾ølą̛́̄n̼̙͈̘̄̍̓͘." Nyxil was tired of the Fleshsmiths' bullshit. "Everyone can see what you're trying. Get over the Dark Star already. You won't get your pride back by striking me down. Nobody will ever forget how the Fleshsmiths all succumbed to their own mistake that even a little girl could survive."

She was laying it on thick, but with how blatant the Fleshsmiths had been, even after the warning, she needed to give all the ears listening in something to latch onto. Besides, what were they gonna do? Tell the truth? If any of Solan's cultists knew why they wanted her, they certainly weren't about to make that knowledge public.

"Uh huh…" the Bodytwister drawled before turning to K'Sill. "I don't suppose anyone outside your cult witnessed this supposed attack?"

She glanced to Mavi, who stared back at her blankly, before turning to glare at a Scripture standing amongst the crowd. The man raised an eyebrow, but did nothing.

"If there's nobody, then we have no reason to believe you," the Bodytwister said, acting as the voice for the observers. Nyxil wondered if that was because he was one of the highest creeds amongst them, or if the fact that the Bodytwisters were hosting this year's Trials meant he was required to. "File a complaint if you think an investigation is necessary. The Technocult would be more than willing."

Nyxil was on the verge of gloating at the two Fleshsmiths as they grit their teeth and backed off. The constant, repeated failures must be driving them to madness.

Zan'Asyll sent a nasty glare at the boy who had failed for their sake, and stormed off. Said boy now looked terrified. As soon as the Bodytwister dropped his gun, he scrambled for it and ran after his team's observer.

"Damn." Mavi stepped up besides Nyxil as they watched Zan'Asyll spin and strike the boy. Nobody moved to interfere. "I heard they were imploding, but I never thought it would be so obvious." She grinned suddenly. "You got balls though. Antagonising them like that? Do you even have the support of a cult?"

She didn't answer.

The Fleshsmith hopeful kneeled on the ground. Zan'Asyll spat some words that were unlikely to be compliments, and left the boy to wallow in his failure. What Nyxil was interested in, were their names. The boy gained both a curse and an additive. But he wasn't alone. As Zan'Asyll walked away from the devastated boy, a curse swirled into existence in his soul.

It may not be the most devastating curse she'd ever seen — a simple disruption to restful sleep — but the combination between such an important event and the devastation wrought by a broken promise had been enough for it to form. No wonder the cults rarely discarded their pawns after the Trials; they would be naturally punished if they did. Nyxil had no doubt the cults would avoid paying the demerits for bottom rung prospectives if it wouldn't come back to bite them.

"So… As much as I enjoy watching the downfall of the Fleshsmiths, we are here for a reason," Mavi said. "Lets get on with the trial." Spinning to Tru, she jerked a thumb towards the team now missing both their observer and a team member. "You said you would handle negotiations. Impress us."

With that, Nyxil and Mavi moved to gain their next coin. Kal was uncharacteristically silent. He seemed unsure whether he should to follow them, or join Tru. Instead, he sat off to the side. Alone.

Their task this time was to collect the token from within an altered biotower. There was a sign that pointed its location a few dozen metres up; about halfway to the ceiling. A ceiling that did not yet mirror the ground below, as it did in the more corrupt sections of the Biovault.

Nyxil's initial plan was to shatter the glass and take the coin easily. But an instant after she had that thought, she noticed a sign on the tower that read, 'Do Not Break Glass'.

She considered destroying the sign with her third eye and doing it anyway. The observers couldn't complain if she hadn't known.

Instead, she and Mavi were forced to gather the token the proper way.

What used to be a farming pillar for vegetables, fruits, or whatever else would grow in mostly uncorrupted soil, was now a maze. Watching from outside in, only the outer layer of the puzzle was visible. When they both stepped in through the entrance, they discovered an inner ring that had no way of being seen through the glass.

All things considered, this was a fairly easy challenge. Enough trial and error with coordination from someone outside, and anyone could reach the token. A single member of the previous team was already half way to theirs.

Nyxil opted to guide Mavi from outside. None of her additives helped here. Her mutations wouldn't either, but she wasn't about to bring them out regardless.

Besides, Mavi enacted a ritual that left a shadowy trail behind her, to indicate where she'd been. The trail sped up the process… even if a simple rope would have accomplished the same thing. That, or breadcrumbs. Or anything really. But it was rather obvious she was taking any opportunity to show the observers her expertise with rituals.

"So, how'd your little conversation go?" Mavi asked as they walked away from the biotower with another token added to their collection. Another accretion disk. "I'm not going to have to do your part next time, am I?"

"Pretty well," Tru said. His tone was casual, but his slight smirk gained Nyxil's attention.

"How well?" What more could he have done than simply learning a couple more locations for them? Just that shouldn't have him feeling smug.

Instead of answering, he whistled. That little skitter-spawn of his scampered out of his pocket and nestled on his shoulder. In its small flickering mouth, was a token.

"Where…?" Mavi asked, turning on him.

Tru pet the thing's little head. "Az here plucked it from their pockets. They didn't even notice until we were already leaving," he said. "I might have been disappointed that my name was so weak, but it does have its uses."

Whether intended or not, his words struck Kal. The sulking bully scowled and stepped forward. He shoved his shoulder into Tru's, and snatched the token from the former rat's jaw.

"What uses? A name so weak is pointless." he snapped. "The only reason you could steal from them is because they are incompetent. Your own incompetence is why I can take it from you."

Nyxil didn't care if these two wanted to brawl, but in the next few minutes, she would take a hidden exit from the Biovault that K'Sill wouldn't expect and ambush her. In preparation, her heart-rate was skyrocketing, and because of that, Kal's actions irritated her far more than they usually would.

"Then what must that say about you?"

Nyxil grabbed his hand. An audible crack came an instant before he screamed and dropped the token. She let him go and snatched up the coin. Kal clutched his hand, all thoughts except pain wiped from his mind.

"For someone who acts so tough, you can't even handle a little fracture?" She scoffed, and drove the message home. "You have no hope in the cults. Give up now, and you might live another year."

She continued walking. Through the pain, Kal looked expectantly at the others, as if they would support him against her. Not even K'Sill looked at him in pity.

The fact that K'Sill didn't take the chance to throw accusations of fighting Nyxil's way told her all she needed to know. As expected, the Fleshsmiths would be waiting at the entrance they'd last used. No more delaying.

Nyxil turned to Mavi and Tru. It took everything to stop herself from glancing warily at K'Sill, as her heart-rate induced nervousness demanded. "Give me five minutes. I need to blow off some steam." It was about the best excuse she could give.

"Huh?"

Before they could so much as question her, she pulled open a hatch buried beneath the soil and dove into the airlock before they could follow. She hurried to prepare. Her tentacles slipped free, and her single wing, unbound. At best, she had a minute before K'Sill came after her. Half measures wouldn't be enough.

Despite the tense situation, Nyxil felt calm. This was just another Fleshsmith. She was back in the Dark Star, and had one more cultist to kill. It was ritual.