Pillars of the Kingdom

She’s no’ jus’ circlin’ m’...She’s runnin’ ’n vectors... he decided quickly that he’d throw a punch to the left of the image he saw next, and was rewarded with the feeling of his fist striking a target. He grinned as victory seemed certain once again; she’d proven tricky but was no more sophisticated then originally anticipated.

Her arms were folded in front of her, covering her from the large fist, and she smiled as her hands wrapped around and grasped it. Jagger’s eyes quickly went wide as the girl pulled his arm and most of his body to the side, delivering a fierce kick into the unprotected underarms. The 300+ pound man was not just lifted a little from the ground - the kick sent him flying into a car and nearly tore the metal clean in half. The car’s buckling was only stopped by a stone wall which was part of the parking structure. Had there been passers-by, there would have been chaos and amazement, but as it was the security cameras had to be feeding the footage of this duel back to someone; if not directly to the police, to the tavern’s owners. Branden didn’t want to think of the consequences of the latter - Any biker gang could be “protection” for the place, after all, and if it happened to be one of the Six Kings which owned this place....Damn, things would get ugly. Dust was thrown up in a large cloud, a cloud that was not destined to settle but fortunately hid the scene from the mechanical eyes of the security recorders.

Just as soon as the pulverized stone and metal began to flutter down to the ground, a strange wind swept it up into a clockwise mushroom-shaped cloud, one which quickly solidified into a fairly large cylinder around a rather large man. All in all it was quite impressive considering the blow just delivered to the thick-skulled barbarian by the slender and pretty girl.

“I won’ be beat’n by you!” Jagger’s shout echoed faintly off of the stone walls, the energy within his body reacting to his annoyance as he began to slowly step toward the much less imposing woman, stone chips being crushed almost of their own accord in the face of the power he welded.

“You’ve already lost,” came the classic, downright stereotypical response, and she moved forward again at incredible speed, heading straight for the large man.

If she’d expected an easy win, she was mistaken; Jagger’s first blow came far faster then his previous attacks and it caught her square in the jaw. The dust around his body dispersed almost explosively as the dark knight flew backwards, slamming into a truck which was parked opposite the already-totaled car. She quickly found herself back-first against a parking lot wall, blood trickling down her lip where she’d been struck and crushed steel bent almost cushioningly around her body.

“Fine, Jagger. Just fucking fine,” she muttered as her hands started to move in a slow pattern, a ball of light forming on each of her fingertips. Magic? So the girl was easily Hora class; if that was a surprise at this point, someone had not been watching the fight.

“Oh great, she’s going to fry him,” remarked the leader of these four, and Branden found himself looking up at the man with blinking blue eyes. He wasn’t certain what to say or think.

“Want me to stop this before it gets ugly?” He asked tentatively. The leader just chuckled a response.

“No, no, Ammon will do that if necessary, just as he did in your case. She’s not quite as good as you, now is she?” The unidentifiable man asked with a faint hint of mirth in his voice.

“Dunno...” Branden responded truthfully, looking back to the fray. No matter what the outcome could be, it would be a very close fight to determine who was on top of whom.

The girl’s gestures were completed, and ten spheres of yellow light flew from the woman’s fingers toward Jagger seemingly without a chance of missing. The barbarian yelled loudly and pressed his hands out from his chest, six of those energy spheres dispersing in what looked like glass ornaments being broken. One could just barely make out a wave of light pulsating from Jagger’s palms, an energy spike which Branden was quite surprised to see so clearly.

The last four, however, flew toward Jagger unabated, each one crashing into him and causing him to step backwards as the power washed over him. If he was harmed by these attacks it didn’t show, because the monster of a man did little more than roar his defiance at the stinging spheres.

“So tha’s how I’ is!” The large man exclaimed, pounding his fists together and quickly pushing his hands outward. The wave of force, crudely directed as it was, laid to waste part of the parking lot - A good hole was blown into the wall of it, and one would expect that a single remnant of the girl, no matter how small, would take a week to find in the wreckage.

The case, however, was that instead of defending she ran forward, her own Arcane energies directed forward in a barrier which left her only mildly shaken as she almost instantly closed the distance between herself and Jagger; both fists suddenly extended in the same fluid motion she ran with and struck the man square in the chest.

If the previous blow he’d endured was amazing, this one was phenomenal - He slammed into the wreckage of the previously decimated car and continued on to strike the wall with such force that the very foundation of the parking lot trembled, the walls cracked deeply, and for a moment the idea of collapse hung in the balance. The shanty held together, but Jagger was a little slow to get up.

“It’s over!” exclaimed the hooded monk before he bowed his head. “I can take over, if madame wishes,” he offered almost hesitantly. If the monk was nervous, perhaps Branden should have been as well.

“No...I do not wish,” the woman replied. “I am satisfied with my rank. I merely wish for one of you to accompany me, as I said, to a concealed treasure.”

“Where is this treasure, lady?” Asked the leader, hopping from the car he’d been relaxing on and walking over toward her with that casual smile on his lips.

“Out west, a little past the border,” she responded, glancing to the four of them, before smiling a little bit. The place she mentioned was near Shaman territory, so it made sense that an artifact could be hidden there without Emor ever having discovered its traces. If that was true, though, how would this woman know where it was? “So which one of you big, strong men will go with me?”

The leader shrugged his shoulders, and the monk stood up and stepped over to the group. Not one of them checked to see if Jagger was okay. If they cared, their curiosity would be allayed as they could plainly see him walking away from the group to be on his own. To him, at least, it appeared the meeting was adjourned.

“I’d volunteer, but I believe Lord Frost is headed in that direction?” Spoke the hooded man, bowing his head respectfully to those who observed. His mission was well known to these compatriots.

“Yes. I am and I’ll go. My horse is waiting for me at the border with Gatamene, I’ll meet you tomorrow there and you can draw me out a map,” Branden said offhandedly. “I have some errands to run by Errick’s Point, but I’ll meet you most certainly at whatever time you wish,” Branden said with a smile on his lips.

“What if I said I would accompany you on your journey, that I would aid you and any others in order to maintain your composition?” The question was unexpected and Branden exchanged a glance with his leader. The man shrugged.

“She is one of us, now,” their Lord offered nonchalantly. Branden nodded his head and bowed deeply to the woman.

“You’re certainly welcome to join me,” he responded in a conversational tone. It seemed he’d be bringing back some heavy artillery without an excuse for having found it, but he could come up with one that would satisfy his comrades in time.

“Good,” she responded, smiling and nodding her head just one more time, giving Branden a scrutinizing look from his head to toe and back again. A grin on her lips as she stated once more, “very good.”

Chapter Thirteen

Coldflame was saddled up with Branden’s usual long distance traveling gear, including an extra blanket for the mare and a few changes of clothing, and he was ready and waiting on the lady in black to finish up her preparations on the very south-western borders of Yenohar.

Near both Gatamene and Gam, he knew he was about to travel through rather anarchic lands. His strategy was fairly plain - Head directly southwest to the Tsuba river, hopefully be on time to hop on a boat and take it the rest of the trip to Errick’s Point. Most of his voyage would still be overland, but it was faster than going directly south and catching the river at a more distant point.

He was just getting impatient when his partner arrived, and he looked at her with a smile on his pale face. “Ready to head out, cutie?” The young, flirtatious voice he used had so often had a very specific effect on women, and he hoped this might disarm her to make her more...Normal, was the only word he could think of when referring to the difference between most people and this black-haired vixen.

Unfortunately, the black-haired beauty kept the same blank scowl on her face. “Yes, Branden, and you can stop flirting with me. You’re cute, but I’m not jumping your britches,” she responded with a smile that only appeared halfway forced, leaving Branden to sit atop his horse with his wits scattered about him.

“Cold bitch...” He muttered to himself in annoyance with her attitude. Too bad she overheard it.

“Yes, comrade?” She asked, looking up to him. If he was surprised, it didn’t quite show in his eyes.

“Nothing, just had an itch. Said as much,” it was a classic and rarely-succeeding attempt at fooling the woman, but either she bought it or simply didn’t care enough to respond. What was ironic was that it was true in one way.

The roads themselves were rather clear, although partway through the trip Branden began to have a strange sensation in the back of his mind - A familiar presence was approaching, or so it seemed; though he might well have been approaching it for all he knew. The tall aspen trees in southern Gam provided verdant shadows, unlike northern Gam’s deserts where a brief portion of the journey took place under painful, sweltering conditions. Each blade of grass was a rich green color, showing how well nature could thrive if just left on its own - Even the roads, well used during the war, were starting to become overgrown and were threatened with forestation.

“So what do you think is going to happen to Gam in the next twenty years, anyhow?” Branden asked his traveling companion after about two hours of silence. His head was pounding from hearing only birds chirp, and he figured some relief was in order; even if it was idle conversation and nothing more. He figured he wanted to get to know her, even if she was frigid.

“Don’t really know,” she responded as she shrugged her armor plated shoulders. “And it doesn’t really matter to me. Soon we will rule the entirety of this Kingdom, so what does it matter?” She asked him in reply with a slight smirk attached to her lips, the sort which held not innocent mischief but rather sinister desire.

Branden nodded his head, immediately unsure if this woman was any better than Jagger might be for the Kingdom - She had some distant sense of nobility about her but she definitely appeared psychotic. “Yeah, sure, we’ll be in charge soon enough. So this Relic we’re after, what’s it do?” He asked while still fighting for conversation.

“Not totally sure...” She responded, that same callous unconcern with the world’s affairs in her voice. It was almost as if she weren’t paying attention to him or anything around him. Even the black horse she rode appeared distracted and likely annoyed by even a blade of grass. “We’ll have to be careful when we get to the place though, it’s dangerous.”

The forest began to lessen and a rather old house became visible in the direction they were heading. It might have been some hermit’s hut or an old inn, but no horses stood outside of it and no smoke came from its chimney. The feelings of malaise instantly tripled in Branden’s mind, as suddenly two vibrations of energy became clear to his mind. They were familiar and close-by, both bearing a resemblance in different ways to the woman he was traveling with.

He leaped from Coldflame quickly and placed his hands on the grass underneath him, closing his eyes and focusing his mind as Serge had taught him. He didn’t see it so much as feel it - there was the woman behind him alright, her energy almost unreadable, with a hint of something disquieting yet nothing to be astonished at. Then there was something within the building, a power much more clearly dark in nature, and a third presence - Equally unreadable and a little differently distressing then his companion’s; a living one which was quite far away but observing at its own pace.

“Say, Branden,” his ally began in a pleasant voice, a calm one despite the immense spiritual pressures surrounding them.

“I don’t know what’s in that house, but its odd,” He cut her off without even raising a hand, shaking his head to negate whatever she might say to distract him from his goal. The familiarity of these energies was sickening to his stomach. “Not alive, but...Its mostly residual. It’s evil.”

“I feel it,” she said with a sigh, “As do I feel the second person. I’ll go deal with the woman...It is a woman, by the way...And you go in here and clean house of anything negative, alright?” She was self-assured, and she dismounted from her horse quickly. Her sword was drawn and she began to head into the woods. “I’ll call you if I need help!”

“Yeah, okay!!” Branden shouted back, anger peaking in his voice. “Thanks!!” He yelled, knowing she’d made up her mind. Oh well - She could handle things herself, since she was a big girl and all. If not, at least she’d given him the location of the treasure!

The door to the wooden house was locked, so Branden placed his fingertip to the keyhole. Ice formed inside of the lock and he allowed it to fill, turning the tumblers with mystical ice then dismissing the frigid solid back into vapors. Slowly the metal hinges creaked open and Branden’s eyes widened drastically, pupils dilating into gentle blue circles.

There, on a plaque adorned in the most rich of gold, was an engraving of a dagger with a droplet of blood falling from it - Blood mingled with poison.

The image hit him hard; the masked man making his way through his father’s ranks, through his father, even through his defenseless mother and friends. The blood sprayed around on the cool dirt, the look of the leather mask hiding the assailant’s features. Nothing new to the trained warrior that was Branden Frost, but something terrible to the child he’d been at the time. The blow to the head knocking him unconscious - it was all as clear as the day the crime was committed, and he tightly clenched his fist. Cold winds kicked up and blew dust off the few desks and walls, doing the full service of a maid in a fraction of the time.

Ironically, the place looked something like a classroom, with desks facing the center of the room and a large drawing board on the front wall. On the other walls, however, lay a number of lines embedded in a steel frame with eternal memory that gathered no dust, oddly enough.
"Marching gleefully to the house

all bow before our most holy name

a house unrivaled in its malady

yet peerless in its justice and joy

each Saint a Sinner, each benediction dark

our service forever a hallowed stain

in the name of the Descendant

poisoned blood of ours rains"

Each word raced through Branden’s mind, his anger rising and his ability to control it obviously dwindling. He drew his sword and raised it, just barely biting down the urge to send it slicing though one of the desks. No - He needed this place intact. This was the first lead he’d ever found in finding his family’s killers, and he’d be damned if he allowed some darker elemental facet of his mind to take control of this glimmering hope.

A rustling came from behind him, and he turned with sword at the ready to find his companion standing before him, looking around the place slowly. She was quite lukewarm about the situation, observing both the house’s newfound cleanliness and Branden’s wildly surging energies through her black eyes.

“You alright?” She asked as she slowly moved her hand to her waist, prepared for the worst. If he sensed an attack coming, she’d be ready to deal the defining blow if the opportunity would present itself.

“Fine,” echoed a soft, somber voice. “Just...Had a bad memory,” He said with a glance to the dark insignia. He raised the tip of his sword to the mark to demonstrate. “This is the emblem of those who killed my family. I will see every person who wears this mark burn!” He shouted, blade moving clean through the decorative dagger and slashing it repeatedly, reducing it to scrap metal. So much for evidence.

“...You must really hate them,” The dark haired woman spoke, moving over to the poem and looking at it for a moment. “...Beautiful wording, however. You have to admit that.” It was a voice without envy or passion, one which simply observed as if she were stating the emotions of another.

Branden paused a moment, then began to laugh. The giggling didn’t sound quite sane. “Yes, it is beautiful, but it is their theme and it will cease when they do,” he said throughout the laughter as well as the hints of salty water that formed at the corners of his eyes.

“I hope you are right, Branden,” she offered in return, thinking of nothing more to offer him solace.

“I know I am.” He flatly stated, his confidence and resolve swirling together to form a potent mixture before he glanced up at her. “And what did you find?”

“That we had a watcher,” She said offhandedly and without a touch of distress. “She was disposed of,” the girl finished with an idle shrug, rubbing the handle of her sword softly as if to remember the feel of her blade shuddering against her presumptive foe’s flesh.

“I see. I’ll guess she was guarding this hell hole. Glad to see she’s out of commission, since she was probably one of them,” he stated as he finally decided to re-sheath his sword. His usual compassion was nowhere to be found when one studied his cold, determined face.

“The horses are outside and waiting for us, Branden. Shall we depart?” Patience had apparently worn thin with his trip down memory lane, and the stranger clearly wanted to continue on their journey toward fame.

“Yeah,” was the only reply that came to Branden’s lips. He gave one last look over his shoulder at the house which still stood intact, yet contained an indisputably clear message for its inhabitants.

Chapter Fourteen

The city’s alarms screamed as the few defensive points behind its walls were manned and readied. Yenoharan chainguns mounted upon the three fixed points in the city - elevated, turning platforms designed for anti-aircraft defense as well as attacks on the ground - were located on tall towers which let them fire over the small town walls down toward the oncoming monsters.

What Clarice saw before her was unlike anything she’d ever imagined. First and foremost, it was the complete confirmation of her theory on “Monster Unity ” – they were clearly working as a team. Second of all, it would have spelled certain doom had Clarice not measured their might against what a large force they had in Serge, Alan, the others, and – of course – her own skill. All in all, things looked grim but strategically balanced.

The first wave came in the form of Raptors and Wyvens. Both related to Dragons in a distant manner, they were were smaller and generally non-elementally-aligned creatures. They produced Grey Crystal, something useful that treasure hunters (and the military, as it had a policy of “keep what you find.”) needed to know, and they sometimes got hints of other elements if they grew old enough. While Raptors were little more than large lizards that could walk on their hind legs and easily swallow a person whole, Wyvens could fly and were known to drop large rocks upon gatherings of foot soldiers.

Clarice quickly scaled one of the defensive positions along the wall and observed the situation - Sixty, perhaps seventy Raptors and thirty Wyvens? The ordinary guards might well be overwhelmed, but not her or the others she traveled with. Naturally, she couldn’t handle this amount of opposition alone, but that’s why she was glad she wasn’t. While looking over the city’s local area, she noticed that these creatures had a large and surprising contingent of back up - Six large, sparkling, white-yellow creatures were hurling lightning at the walls in a futile attempt to break them. Lightning elementals were a definitive threat she did not want to waste ammunition on; insubstantial, they were as unlikely to break stone walls as lead bullets were unlikely to hurt them.

She reached the first of these defensive towers and looked to the men operating the four-barreled weapon fixtures. “Don’t fire at the sparkling bastards. Keep the Wyvens off the ground forces, and we’ll take care of the Raptorsm” Clarice ordered before drawing both of her swords and leaping into the air. She didn’t check to make sure she got a response, knowing full well that the most she’d get was a dumb, stunned nod followed by obedience.

The Arcanic Shade once wrote in a report that flight was a simple matter of generating lift, just as it was when airplanes were first developed centuries ago. The stumbling block was in using spiritual energy to create that lift instead of thrust and aerodynamics – Incredibly long leaps have long been child’s play to Media and above, but flight has been an impossibility except for him. Clarice may well have hit thirty vertical feet before she began to fall, landing outside of the city walls and staring into the faces of the creatures for an instant - Her impact created a large cloud of dust which rose to cover her form.

The first and nearest snapped at her; she stepped backwards, readying both of her swords and closing her eyes in that almost ritual way. Fighting animals was even easier then fighting sentient rivals to her, as animals were frequently louder than trained fighters and certainly smelled more strongly than a bathed male. Her swords both flashed and two Raptors fell to the ground wounded and screeching. A quick pair of thrusts put them out of their misery and she leaped backwards to avoid a third’s claws. She’d begun that intricate dance of avoiding and countering blows from the monsters that surrounded her.

*****
Serge leaped over the gate in a single bound and, noticing Clarice on his left, permitted her to engage in the battle which he knew Jacin and Charles would soon be joining. His mind quickly came up with the strategy he would employ - Leave Clarice, Alan, Jacin and Charles to handle the Raptors and he’d take care of the Lightning Sprites. They were the most dangerous by far and he was quite ready to let the younger ones have fun with weaklings.

Either due to Serge’s advance or to a sudden enlightenment that their lightning attacks were simply being grounded by the solid stone wall, the six sparkling beings turned their attention to the man with long, grey hair hanging down from a helmet and charging toward them while brandishing a weapon. Ripples of lightning projected from their fingertips, yet Serge did little more than raise his shield and disperse the attacks before he went on the offensive.

Due to its enchanted nature, his sword could, perhaps should have done some damage, but the metal blade passed through with little more effect then to raise the hair on his arms. He slowed his motions as his blade passed through their bodies, searching the creatures for some form of physical heart or location to damage, but he found no such weakness to the mundane. Cursing silently, he realized what he was going to have to do.

He retreated for the moment, lightning coruscating across his armor and body and doing no visible damage; his aim was to create enough distance between himself and the sprites that he could dodge them without effort. Once safe, he let his eyes lose their focus. He quickly centered himself and raised his sword to the sky, the air pressure always subtly surrounding him suddenly increasing as he pooled his power to the tip of his sword. Though he ceased dodging, each lightning bolt that slammed into him simply raced through this maelstrom of energy and into the ground, leaving him unscathed.

He pointed the tip of his now-glowing sword at the nearest of the elemental creatures and a white beam of light shot forth from the blade. It entered into the mass of glowing electricity and quickly dispersed the beast, leaving behind a small yellow stone as the only sign that an entity had once stood there.

He grinned to himself underneath his helmet, knowing this would be an easy win.

*****
Jacin and Charles ran step for step toward the gates of the city. They were open, but that was largely due to the six archers standing behind a small partition, three on each side. Further, should there be an elemental-based threat, there were two separate bins to assist the arrows in being useful - The first was a box of small, frayed ice cubes which would stick to the arrows in the event of a flame-elemental and the second was a flame contained in a box which would let the archers’ ammunition be effective against anything else. It almost seemed futile yet it would afford at least some defense.

These six men were completely visible to the two Gataminians as they ran through the gate, Charles ready with his sword and Jacin his spear. Glancing behind him, Jacin could no longer see the archers yet watched Alan take up a position inside the city gates, one that would let him intercept any threat which breeched the walls. Smiling, Jacin realized he was clear to enter the fray as his retreat path was ensured and he left the city for the sunlight outside.

While Jacin charged into the mass of Raptors and thrust his spear forward, Charles was a little more strategic about the situation. He singled out a small cluster of these creatures which were making good progress at clawing through the stone walls surrounding Errick’s Point. Cursing because he knew very well that if the walls went, so would a large chunk of the populace, he spun his weapon once before reaching the beasts and raking the blade along its scales.

Jacin had little real combat experience and he knew it. He’d never gotten a good look at a monster like this; and the feeling of his spear entering flesh, demonic or no, was one he’d not yet accepted and learned to ignore. He shivered as blood spurted outward and he stepped backwards, not noticing the second beast behind him. Claws raked his back, penetrating his armor and opening a fortunately small wound.

He cried out and looked over his shoulder. Training was forgotten and he wondered for a moment where Charles had gotten to - The two ran out together, and he abandoned him already? He slashed with the edge of that spear, earning retribution for his own injury at the price of the monster’s life, then recalled that he was not a rookie fighter - Charles was letting him fight on his own because there were other priorities to deal with, and Charles had faith he’d be alright. A stupid mistake like letting a base creature score a blow on him was a poor way to repay that confidence.

He grinned underneath the helmet he wore and let the spear relax a little in his hands. They might feel pain, these demons, but Jacin did too; not to mention that these beings wanted to attack defenseless civilians...Justification to fight and even to kill had been found, and he moved forward without hesitation.

*****
It wasn’t too long, and he was completely unphased. Tired, yes, but three minutes after dissolving the first he had finished off the last. The lightning elementals - the main threat - were eliminated with the attacks his sword provided. Dispelling these living balls of electricity was a little more difficult than expected, especially with them firing back against him, but he successfully eliminated them without anyone being hurt, including himself.

Serge took a slow breath and turned to look toward the crowd of monsters fighting and dying against his allies and he was forced to smile. The kids, for all of their weaknesses (and the few wounds they’d incurred), were fine. Clarice was especially inspiring to him -