“That was a very cute attempt; tying to get these rodents to back down.” Kalma walks out of the cloud of dust as it concentrates into the last of her skin. “I told you, didn’t I? Doesn’t matter what you say, there’s no stopping this now.”
The unsettling feeling of her voice eating my very being returns along with her hardly suppressed presence. Why is she here? Didn’t she want to keep her involvement hidden? Her appearance has not gone unnoticed. All around us, both mermineae and mercenaries alike have frozen at her presence. The sheer, unhindered terror on the faces of the mermineae hides none of their thoughts about her appearance.
Kalma twists her head from left to right. “Where’s that big guy you brought with you? Wasn’t he supposed to be the only hope you had?” Her grin grows vicious as she raises a hand over her mouth in mock surprise. “Oh! He hasn’t abandoned you, has he? How sad. I was looking forward to watching him fight.”
“Why are you here?” I seethe through grit teeth. Tore should be here. She’s shown herself so willingly and yet the only one with even the slightest chance of competing had run off. I’m not sure if I’m madder at Kalma’s gloating or Tore for giving up this opportunity.
Does she have something to do with why he ran off? She clearly already knew he wasn’t here when she showed herself. So what happened to Tore? Is he still alive?
“Well, after you killed one of my Viisin, I didn’t want you to suddenly think you had a chance. Plus, this gives me the perfect view,” she says as she turns to watch over the fleeing mermineae. Those that have broken from the shock of her presence bound away at a sprint. Unfortunately, they run right into the storm of the returning ice mage. Kalma’s smirk remains plastered on her face even as countless mermineae fall before her.
How does she know I killed a Viisin? It’s almost impossible to miss her presence, so how far can she see? Was she watching over my conversation with that Viisin I tried to convince as well?
With the old albanic mage back along the defensive line, the mermineae are quickly overcome. Kalma stands here, watching the mermineae be overcome. The elite of the Order are enough to push back the entire invasion.
Even so, Kalma chuckles, as if pleased by the course of the war.
“The Viisin; you never thought the decay was their strength, did you?” she glances at me out the corner of her eye while raising her clawed hands before her, and I already know I will not like what’s about to happen.
She claps. A short, almost insignificant gesture. But as she does, the battlefield drowns in dust. Haunting, guttural screams create a chorus of suffering. Each instant that passes, the howls become more raspy, bestial, and hollow.
“What did you do?” the words escape my lips.
“It’s not their power, it’s mine. I just gave those with my touch a slight boost.”
The dust settles and it’s clear the mermineae are no longer being pushed back. Where there were none before, a hundred Viisin slaughter their way through the mercenaries with mindless intent.
I’d expected something like this to happen, but it’s still hard to watch. It is too late to convince the Order to pull back their strongest. Doing so will only allow the mermineae to crush the pact nations.
“Every Forvaal across the battlefront now has the decaying body of a Viisin. Look to the north.” Where she points, a large plume of dust rises into the sky from near the horizon. “Each Viisin, the few that remained, now enjoy their bodies falling apart at a rate I doubt they could have believed. Neither the former Forvaal or Viisin will survive long, but it’ll be enough for them to drag the battle out.”
Kalma says it so casually, but her words are horrifying. Thousands across the entire remaining border of the pact nations have their bodies tear themselves apart all at once. If she’s not lying, then exactly how far can she control her decay?
Running toward the headquarters will not help anymore. That option has departed. With Tore gone, there is no option but to fight and limit the number of losses. There is nobody who can stop this from going forward, beside Kalma herself.
In a moment of frustration fuelled foolishness, I lash out. I guess it’s no different from last time; I haven’t learnt my lesson, but this powerlessness hits me harder than any intent to keep others beside those I care for safe.
My entire reason for fighting for all these lives rests entirely on what my friends think of me. It’s a flimsy reason at most, and I do feel bad that I’m apathetic to the thousands, hundreds of thousands, or even millions of lives that have or will be lost, but I simply don’t have it in me to care for more than those close to me.
Despite all that, failing so totally, and then having Kalma twist the knife, rubbing water into the wound, is infuriating.
It is stupid; I know I have no chance, but I attack anyway. My flames roar over her body as my presence pushes against hers in futility. It doesn’t matter if I’m outmatched. It doesn’t matter that I’m putting myself in immense danger. All that matters is that Kalma burns.
She only snickers. “Quite the candle-flame you got there, but not nearly comparable to Ember’s.”
I falter before pressing further. “What do you know about Eldest Ember?” For Kalma to use her name only angers me further.
“Oh?” Kalma appears genuinely surprised, but for all I know, it is an act. “It’s impressive she’s still remembered after all this time. I’m curious, what is it you believe about her?” with the wave of a hand, she brushes my flames off with ease.
I don’t stop. My flames engulf her once more, which only amuses Kalma. “Would you believe me if I told you she’s been imprisoned for a millennium by one of those world-damning Titans?” She ignores the flames sticking to her skin, peering up at the midday moon with an expression other than arrogant amusement.
It’s the first time she expresses anger, and I feel it through her presence. It overwhelms mine in an instant and I hardly notice when I extinguish my flames. She stares up at the orb in the sky with such fury that my own flees me. I know Kalma doesn’t treat this war as anything but a source of amusement for her, but I never truly understood how small we are in her eyes.
The venom of her tone as she curses the Titans rips through my core. Even to a being so beyond as Kalma, the Titans still come out on top. Not even those considered gods can overcome the living calamities.
Does she hate them because she can’t beat them, or is it something more? And what does she mean about Eldest Ember being trapped by one? Her influence is visible every night, so she can’t be imprisoned. Why would the Titans trap her, anyway?
Kalma lets out a sigh of frustration. “Well, that ruined the mood.” She shakes her head and turns back to me, grin back in place, though not as toothy as usual. “The war can’t be stopped now. You should find a nice place to watch the finale. Might as well experience some enjoyment before the end of everything, right?”
Kalma turns back to the battle as the old ice mage carries her storm through the fighting, leaving none in her wake as she cuts toward the massive plume of dust in the distance. Even if Kalma has amplified her power through the Viisin, I should be glad she hasn’t entered the battle herself.
The mermineae’s god disperses in flakes of dust without another word.
The frustration of my inability to achieve anything is immense. My flames still cannot touch her, but I already knew there was little chance of that succeeding. The issue is that not only have my efforts up to now been pointless, but I have no plan for what to do now.
If I were still on the other side of the Alps, I’d probably take the risk and attempt to bring the Euroclydon after Kalma. How I would manipulate a Titan in any way, I don’t know, but it would at least be an option.
Here? I have nothing to work with.
The mermineae, now emboldened by their empowered brethren, charge amongst the mercenaries with renewed vigour. I wonder if they’d still attack like that if they knew no matter how well they fight, neither side will survive?
The old mage lady has already taken her storm far to my south. The land between us a frozen wasteland that prevents any unenhanced from walking through without freezing.
The boosted Viisin, only noticeable by the immense dust cloud rising in the distance, moves to meet her. When they finally collide, the chilly wind can be felt even as far away as I am. An icy blast explodes upon the Viisin, arcing outward and taking much more of the land than the mage could have intended. Unlike before, the Viisin doesn’t die to the mage’s blast. With Kalma’s power pushing the creature far beyond its limits, it can stand toe to toe with the mage.
I head north, away from their fight as it reshapes the landscape. Anything that dares approach them will die. There is no doubt in my mind.
I truly must have been mad to attack Kalma. Only barely could I beat one of the Viisin before its enhancement; in no world could I burn such a being as they are now.
As I run through the battlefield, I hesitate to fight. There’s not really any reason to, is there? I cannot stop the two sides from fighting, nor can I impact the battle enough for the pact nations to come out on top. Even if I could, Kalma would simply pump the mermineae full with more energy until it is impossible.
I’d hoped to limit the losses on both sides, but if there’s no more option, then I’ll have to go back to burning mermineae. The safety of the pact nations is still my priority, no matter the futility Kalma’s existence brings.
Even if it is impossible, I don’t want to stand on the sidelines and watch as everything is torn down.
It’s strange; a year ago, maybe two, I would have fled without hesitation. The pact nations are doomed and staying here will only open myself to more danger. I thought my survival and freedom was still the most important thing to me, but I guess not. Not now that my team will face such an insurmountable challenge. Not with my friends relying on our success.
A wry grin crawls over my face despite the circumstances. I wonder how they’re doing?
Welp, no use complaining about our circumstances. I can’t go for the headquarters anymore, so I might as well help trim some of those new Viisin.
I rocket over the heads of a team of mercenaries. They are only barely holding off a Viisin’s attacks due to the mage’s defensive stone walls. It does little to block the creature’s explosive attacks, but it gives them time to make space. Unfortunately for them, none of their attacks are effective. Two of their weapons have already lost their blades to the decaying skin of the Viisin.
I crash into the earth before the team and spread my flames. Before combating the creature, I want to separate it from the team clearly unable to handle it. I may lose the element of surprise, but I’ve fought with enough Viisin to know how hard it is to catch them unaware.
Instead of backing away at the sight of my white flames, the decaying mermineae lets loose a shout that is impossible to distinguish whether it’s a scream in pain or a battle cry. It flings itself my way without hesitation.
I hardly need to move my flames. The creature dives into them and incinerates in moments. The pain is still there, but it’s hardly anything to achieve the eradication of a Viisin.
It looks and feels like a Viisin, but it certainly doesn’t act like one. They aren’t stupid. The Viisin know when they can attack and when to be wary. But this one attacked without thought. A mindless attempt that resulted in nothing but its own death.
Clearly, this is one of the new Viisin. The Forvaal Kalma forced her power upon. Are they unable to handle the immense decay through their bodies?
It is horrifying if they’ve become nothing but mindless beasts to the pain they endure, but I can’t say I’m unhappy. Without their minds, these new Viisin will be easy to deal with.
Though, going through the sudden immense number of them is definitely not going to feel great.
I let out a breath and glance behind me, noting each mercenary is without significant injury. They give a quick gesture of gratitude, but are already moving off to support the others struggling against Viisin of their own.
None are faring well. Only Beiths seem to have definite methods to deal with the Viisin, so even mindless as they are, most mercenaries can only hope to delay until one appears. Unfortunately, the only Beith in the area was already killed by the Order’s elite, who is also no longer around.
I guess it’s all up to me then.
My flames push outward, quickly spreading over the battlefield. It’s difficult, but I manage to use the airflow to spread my flames while keeping them under enough control that I don’t burn through the unenhanced caught in my path. Resisting the urge to take all the breathable air for myself, I hold back and allow the air to flow freely. Wouldn’t want to accidentally cause thousands to suffocate.
I could rely on my heat sense, but this simply makes my work more convenient. Not only can I see how the battle plays out around me easier, but it allows me to burn the Viisin as I find them. It’s rather difficult to push a flame to its maximum temperature at my farthest range, but I don’t plan to sit still.
As soon as my flames spread over a point where they cannot burn, I fly toward it. The newly minted Viisin enters my sight, and as soon as I’m on top of it, it burns to ash. Thankfully, they are all just as mindless as the first.
There are some annoyances within my flames across the battlefield. Some water mages cover themselves in deadly liquid, others try to put out my flames, even though it shouldn’t be hurting them. I retract the fire from around them. It often leaves them exposed to the Viisin’s attacks, but it’s their fault for not wanting my help.
“I’ve finally found you.”
So engrossed within my blaze, I never look toward the sky. Grímr lands in front of me, his talons crushing a Viisin I was just about to burn. Metal talons that I’m absolutely certain would have melted on contact with a Viisin’s decay the last I saw him.
Glowing inscriptions line much of his metal feathered body. I can tell they are inscriptions rather than the markings of a mage; they follow too closely to the structure I’m familiar with of the inheritance ritual Remus had me memorise. I can’t tell what the inscription itself can do, but the components are the same.
I grin up at him. “I see you’re doing better.”
“That was a very cute attempt; tying to get these rodents to back down.” Kalma walks out of the cloud of dust as it concentrates into the last of her skin. “I told you, didn’t I? Doesn’t matter what you say, there’s no stopping this now.”
The unsettling feeling of her voice eating my very being returns along with her hardly suppressed presence. Why is she here? Didn’t she want to keep her involvement hidden? Her appearance has not gone unnoticed. All around us, both mermineae and mercenaries alike have frozen at her presence. The sheer, unhindered terror on the faces of the mermineae hides none of their thoughts about her appearance.
Kalma twists her head from left to right. “Where’s that big guy you brought with you? Wasn’t he supposed to be the only hope you had?” Her grin grows vicious as she raises a hand over her mouth in mock surprise. “Oh! He hasn’t abandoned you, has he? How sad. I was looking forward to watching him fight.”
“Why are you here?” I seethe through grit teeth. Tore should be here. She’s shown herself so willingly and yet the only one with even the slightest chance of competing had run off. I’m not sure if I’m madder at Kalma’s gloating or Tore for giving up this opportunity.
Does she have something to do with why he ran off? She clearly already knew he wasn’t here when she showed herself. So what happened to Tore? Is he still alive?
“Well, after you killed one of my Viisin, I didn’t want you to suddenly think you had a chance. Plus, this gives me the perfect view,” she says as she turns to watch over the fleeing mermineae. Those that have broken from the shock of her presence bound away at a sprint. Unfortunately, they run right into the storm of the returning ice mage. Kalma’s smirk remains plastered on her face even as countless mermineae fall before her.
How does she know I killed a Viisin? It’s almost impossible to miss her presence, so how far can she see? Was she watching over my conversation with that Viisin I tried to convince as well?
With the old albanic mage back along the defensive line, the mermineae are quickly overcome. Kalma stands here, watching the mermineae be overcome. The elite of the Order are enough to push back the entire invasion.
Even so, Kalma chuckles, as if pleased by the course of the war.
“The Viisin; you never thought the decay was their strength, did you?” she glances at me out the corner of her eye while raising her clawed hands before her, and I already know I will not like what’s about to happen.
She claps. A short, almost insignificant gesture. But as she does, the battlefield drowns in dust. Haunting, guttural screams create a chorus of suffering. Each instant that passes, the howls become more raspy, bestial, and hollow.
“What did you do?” the words escape my lips.
“It’s not their power, it’s mine. I just gave those with my touch a slight boost.”
The dust settles and it’s clear the mermineae are no longer being pushed back. Where there were none before, a hundred Viisin slaughter their way through the mercenaries with mindless intent.
I’d expected something like this to happen, but it’s still hard to watch. It is too late to convince the Order to pull back their strongest. Doing so will only allow the mermineae to crush the pact nations.
“Every Forvaal across the battlefront now has the decaying body of a Viisin. Look to the north.” Where she points, a large plume of dust rises into the sky from near the horizon. “Each Viisin, the few that remained, now enjoy their bodies falling apart at a rate I doubt they could have believed. Neither the former Forvaal or Viisin will survive long, but it’ll be enough for them to drag the battle out.”
Kalma says it so casually, but her words are horrifying. Thousands across the entire remaining border of the pact nations have their bodies tear themselves apart all at once. If she’s not lying, then exactly how far can she control her decay?
Running toward the headquarters will not help anymore. That option has departed. With Tore gone, there is no option but to fight and limit the number of losses. There is nobody who can stop this from going forward, beside Kalma herself.
In a moment of frustration fuelled foolishness, I lash out. I guess it’s no different from last time; I haven’t learnt my lesson, but this powerlessness hits me harder than any intent to keep others beside those I care for safe.
My entire reason for fighting for all these lives rests entirely on what my friends think of me. It’s a flimsy reason at most, and I do feel bad that I’m apathetic to the thousands, hundreds of thousands, or even millions of lives that have or will be lost, but I simply don’t have it in me to care for more than those close to me.
Despite all that, failing so totally, and then having Kalma twist the knife, rubbing water into the wound, is infuriating.
It is stupid; I know I have no chance, but I attack anyway. My flames roar over her body as my presence pushes against hers in futility. It doesn’t matter if I’m outmatched. It doesn’t matter that I’m putting myself in immense danger. All that matters is that Kalma burns.
She only snickers. “Quite the candle-flame you got there, but not nearly comparable to Ember’s.”
I falter before pressing further. “What do you know about Eldest Ember?” For Kalma to use her name only angers me further.
“Oh?” Kalma appears genuinely surprised, but for all I know, it is an act. “It’s impressive she’s still remembered after all this time. I’m curious, what is it you believe about her?” with the wave of a hand, she brushes my flames off with ease.
I don’t stop. My flames engulf her once more, which only amuses Kalma. “Would you believe me if I told you she’s been imprisoned for a millennium by one of those world-damning Titans?” She ignores the flames sticking to her skin, peering up at the midday moon with an expression other than arrogant amusement.
It’s the first time she expresses anger, and I feel it through her presence. It overwhelms mine in an instant and I hardly notice when I extinguish my flames. She stares up at the orb in the sky with such fury that my own flees me. I know Kalma doesn’t treat this war as anything but a source of amusement for her, but I never truly understood how small we are in her eyes.
The venom of her tone as she curses the Titans rips through my core. Even to a being so beyond as Kalma, the Titans still come out on top. Not even those considered gods can overcome the living calamities.
Does she hate them because she can’t beat them, or is it something more? And what does she mean about Eldest Ember being trapped by one? Her influence is visible every night, so she can’t be imprisoned. Why would the Titans trap her, anyway?
Kalma lets out a sigh of frustration. “Well, that ruined the mood.” She shakes her head and turns back to me, grin back in place, though not as toothy as usual. “The war can’t be stopped now. You should find a nice place to watch the finale. Might as well experience some enjoyment before the end of everything, right?”
Kalma turns back to the battle as the old ice mage carries her storm through the fighting, leaving none in her wake as she cuts toward the massive plume of dust in the distance. Even if Kalma has amplified her power through the Viisin, I should be glad she hasn’t entered the battle herself.
The mermineae’s god disperses in flakes of dust without another word.
The frustration of my inability to achieve anything is immense. My flames still cannot touch her, but I already knew there was little chance of that succeeding. The issue is that not only have my efforts up to now been pointless, but I have no plan for what to do now.
If I were still on the other side of the Alps, I’d probably take the risk and attempt to bring the Euroclydon after Kalma. How I would manipulate a Titan in any way, I don’t know, but it would at least be an option.
Here? I have nothing to work with.
The mermineae, now emboldened by their empowered brethren, charge amongst the mercenaries with renewed vigour. I wonder if they’d still attack like that if they knew no matter how well they fight, neither side will survive?
The old mage lady has already taken her storm far to my south. The land between us a frozen wasteland that prevents any unenhanced from walking through without freezing.
The boosted Viisin, only noticeable by the immense dust cloud rising in the distance, moves to meet her. When they finally collide, the chilly wind can be felt even as far away as I am. An icy blast explodes upon the Viisin, arcing outward and taking much more of the land than the mage could have intended. Unlike before, the Viisin doesn’t die to the mage’s blast. With Kalma’s power pushing the creature far beyond its limits, it can stand toe to toe with the mage.
I head north, away from their fight as it reshapes the landscape. Anything that dares approach them will die. There is no doubt in my mind.
I truly must have been mad to attack Kalma. Only barely could I beat one of the Viisin before its enhancement; in no world could I burn such a being as they are now.
As I run through the battlefield, I hesitate to fight. There’s not really any reason to, is there? I cannot stop the two sides from fighting, nor can I impact the battle enough for the pact nations to come out on top. Even if I could, Kalma would simply pump the mermineae full with more energy until it is impossible.
I’d hoped to limit the losses on both sides, but if there’s no more option, then I’ll have to go back to burning mermineae. The safety of the pact nations is still my priority, no matter the futility Kalma’s existence brings.
Even if it is impossible, I don’t want to stand on the sidelines and watch as everything is torn down.
It’s strange; a year ago, maybe two, I would have fled without hesitation. The pact nations are doomed and staying here will only open myself to more danger. I thought my survival and freedom was still the most important thing to me, but I guess not. Not now that my team will face such an insurmountable challenge. Not with my friends relying on our success.
A wry grin crawls over my face despite the circumstances. I wonder how they’re doing?
Welp, no use complaining about our circumstances. I can’t go for the headquarters anymore, so I might as well help trim some of those new Viisin.
I rocket over the heads of a team of mercenaries. They are only barely holding off a Viisin’s attacks due to the mage’s defensive stone walls. It does little to block the creature’s explosive attacks, but it gives them time to make space. Unfortunately for them, none of their attacks are effective. Two of their weapons have already lost their blades to the decaying skin of the Viisin.
I crash into the earth before the team and spread my flames. Before combating the creature, I want to separate it from the team clearly unable to handle it. I may lose the element of surprise, but I’ve fought with enough Viisin to know how hard it is to catch them unaware.
Instead of backing away at the sight of my white flames, the decaying mermineae lets loose a shout that is impossible to distinguish whether it’s a scream in pain or a battle cry. It flings itself my way without hesitation.
I hardly need to move my flames. The creature dives into them and incinerates in moments. The pain is still there, but it’s hardly anything to achieve the eradication of a Viisin.
It looks and feels like a Viisin, but it certainly doesn’t act like one. They aren’t stupid. The Viisin know when they can attack and when to be wary. But this one attacked without thought. A mindless attempt that resulted in nothing but its own death.
Clearly, this is one of the new Viisin. The Forvaal Kalma forced her power upon. Are they unable to handle the immense decay through their bodies?
It is horrifying if they’ve become nothing but mindless beasts to the pain they endure, but I can’t say I’m unhappy. Without their minds, these new Viisin will be easy to deal with.
Though, going through the sudden immense number of them is definitely not going to feel great.
I let out a breath and glance behind me, noting each mercenary is without significant injury. They give a quick gesture of gratitude, but are already moving off to support the others struggling against Viisin of their own.
None are faring well. Only Beiths seem to have definite methods to deal with the Viisin, so even mindless as they are, most mercenaries can only hope to delay until one appears. Unfortunately, the only Beith in the area was already killed by the Order’s elite, who is also no longer around.
I guess it’s all up to me then.
My flames push outward, quickly spreading over the battlefield. It’s difficult, but I manage to use the airflow to spread my flames while keeping them under enough control that I don’t burn through the unenhanced caught in my path. Resisting the urge to take all the breathable air for myself, I hold back and allow the air to flow freely. Wouldn’t want to accidentally cause thousands to suffocate.
I could rely on my heat sense, but this simply makes my work more convenient. Not only can I see how the battle plays out around me easier, but it allows me to burn the Viisin as I find them. It’s rather difficult to push a flame to its maximum temperature at my farthest range, but I don’t plan to sit still.
As soon as my flames spread over a point where they cannot burn, I fly toward it. The newly minted Viisin enters my sight, and as soon as I’m on top of it, it burns to ash. Thankfully, they are all just as mindless as the first.
There are some annoyances within my flames across the battlefield. Some water mages cover themselves in deadly liquid, others try to put out my flames, even though it shouldn’t be hurting them. I retract the fire from around them. It often leaves them exposed to the Viisin’s attacks, but it’s their fault for not wanting my help.
“I’ve finally found you.”
So engrossed within my blaze, I never look toward the sky. Grímr lands in front of me, his talons crushing a Viisin I was just about to burn. Metal talons that I’m absolutely certain would have melted on contact with a Viisin’s decay the last I saw him.
Glowing inscriptions line much of his metal feathered body. I can tell they are inscriptions rather than the markings of a mage; they follow too closely to the structure I’m familiar with of the inheritance ritual Remus had me memorise. I can’t tell what the inscription itself can do, but the components are the same.
I grin up at him. “I see you’re doing better.”
