First Light, page 25
“No! Not her!” Rune screamed. Teryn felt an impact against her chest, accompanied by shooting pain. She was suddenly sent sprawling onto the forest floor, unable to move. Fear and anxiety turned her blood to ice and her body to stone.
Time around Teryn seemed to slow to a crawl while she watched the Wraith’s skeletal fingers close around Rune’s neck. “Corruption”
Tayven
“Spar with me, sir,” Tayven demanded, while facing the newcomer of the academy. The man had stepped out of the clinic when the nobleman caught him unawares. His eyes looked empty and unfocused, despite having been issued a challenge.
“Why?”
“Because I want to test your strength. You are one of a few C-Rankers at the academy, and one of three new first-years.”
The man said nothing, looking at Tayven with those unsettling, vacant eyes. His posture was completely relaxed, as if there was nothing to fear being confronted with an offer to battle. Nothing happened as silence passed between the two for half a minute. Other students rushed past the two men who awkwardly locked eyes in the hallway.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Tayven hurriedly followed his opponent to the practice fields outside, now excited for the bout. He had no delusions of victory, but Tayven figured that, win or lose, he would still learn from the experience. The brisk winter air assaulted his skin, but the heat rising from the expectation of an exciting fight quickly pushed it away.
Walking behind the strange person, Tayven noticed he was not wearing a sword or any other weapon on his waist. When he thought back to it, never once was the C-Ranker seen with a weapon on his person. He had already been at the academy for a few weeks and did not seem to carry weapons with him. While the students were not permitted to use real weapons in sparring matches, they usually still carried them on their person. Rumors ran through the students like wildfire regarding his preferred weapon, his abilities, those web-like marks on his neck… everything.
“Weapon?”
Tayven was pulled from his thoughts by his opponent’s voice. Pointing at him was the handle of a wooden longsword being offered.
“I’ve noticed you use a sword and shield. We fight using the same weapon, so we start on even footing,” the man continued.
Tayven could not help but laugh at the suggestion that he could stand on even footing with a C-Ranker. At first, he thought he was being made fun of, but there was no sign of mockery in the man’s eyes. Somehow, this warrior meant it. Such a thing shocked him because most Vanguard had low opinions of those below their skill levels. It was a fairly typical mindset, as the competition this behavior bred was good for motivation. After all, why would someone not be proud of their success and efforts to become strong?
He grabbed the hilt with a grateful nod and looked around. The field filled with students as word spread about finally seeing the mysterious C-Ranker fight. Even with the temperature rapidly approaching freezing, students flooded their surroundings. Of course, they would come watch. Out of the three new C-Rankers, this man was the most mysterious of his strange presence and odd tattoo on his neck. Of the two that had been seen, one was the person in the ring with Tayven, and the other was the fourteenth prince of the Faradin Kingdom. The third person was completely unknown.
The prince had taken part in a few classes already and it had been clear his rank was purchased, not earned. However, no one had seen this man fight, nor observed the third person at all. There were rumors, but nothing confirmed.
“Alright, let’s make a deal,” Tayven offered with a grin. “If I land a hit on you, then you join my party.”
“How many are in your party?”
“Including me? Three.”
“Fine, but I get to bring someone with me.”
"Who is it?"
"My…friend. She came here with me."
Tayven took note of the odd pause, but chose to ignore it. “Deal!”
Tayven had no reason to think that the C-Ranker would agree to his bet when he offered, but he not only readily agreed, he also wanted to choose someone else to bring with him. Tayven grinned, readying himself for his opponent. He used the standard stance taught to children of noble houses with his legs spread even with his shoulders and sword pointing upward, ready to strike or defend.
The C-Ranker showed off a haphazard stance. At a glance, one could see a multitude of openings. Several other nobles around the ring frowned. For someone to become a C-Ranker but show such sloppy swordsmanship was usually an indicator that the person had either purchased their rank or relied solely on their strength. While it was not bad to lean on pure power sometimes, it would always stunt one’s growth if they could not use the proper techniques to extend that strength further. Usually, warriors like this would cap out when their power stopped increasing.
Tayven did not let these same thoughts impact him. Even if his opponent was someone who would ‘cap out’ in the future or had already, he was still a C-Ranker. Having him join his friends in a party would still be useful. Not only that, but the presence he gave off already proved that he had bought his way up the chain. His presence was less terrifying than when he had first arrived, but Tayven had grown up around powerful warriors, being the son of a noble, and this man gave off the same feeling.
The C-Ranker stood still and unblinking. His eyes were still zoned out, as if his mind was everywhere else but on the fight. Tayven stepped toward him to test if his stance was simply bait, but drew no reaction. He continued to step towards his attacker with his guard up. Finally, Tayven moved into striking range and swung towards his opponent’s free arm. In the blink of an eye, the warrior’s sword parried his own.
Tayven pressed the attack, alternating targets between the sword arm and the free arm of the man, trying to disable his opponent. Despite every single strike being skillfully smacked away, leaving Tayven open for a counter, the warrior did not take advantage of any opportunities. Is he actually messing with me? Am I being used as an example? Is he telling everyone that he can take control at any time?
Tayven’s frustrations grew with every crossing of their blades, the temptation to use his Aura grew along with them. They had never stated the rules of the match, so nothing kept him from doing so. However, Tayven worried that if he was the first to use Aura abilities, then his opponent would take the chance to do the same. If Tayven could not beat him now, then what chance would he stand by adding Aura into the mix?
All he had to do was land a hit, so it was now or never. Tayven remembered his lessons and although he could trigger his abilities silently, shouting them out in battle was like a trigger that queued the visualization in his mind. His rapidly rising annoyance and frustration threatened his concentration of silent activation. No choice. It’s now or never.
“Enhance: Full Body!” Every vein in his body glowed purple as the enhancement took effect. His muscles tensed and pain racked every part of his body. He could only maintain this state for a few seconds before he ran out of power, broke a bone, or tore a muscle. “Enhance: Leap.”
Dirt and gravel sprayed into the air, showering the onlookers with debris. His body turned into a violet-tinged blur as he lunged at the C-Ranker. Tayven’s smeared form took on a deadlier shape as he swung his practice sword in an overhead diagonal slash. The opponent brought his sword up, but the speed was too much for him to parry the blow. His only option was to commit to a direct block. With the combination of Tayven’s Aura-enhanced strike and the fact their weapons were simply made of wood, Tayven’s weapon sliced through the opponent’s. The blade struck the man across the cheek. Before anyone could react, the man spun with the strike. He lifted his rooted foot and spun around in the air before bringing it around and planting it into Tayven’s side.
No one could react to the scene, barely able to process what had just happened. Tayven’s body was thrown across the arena and continued into a slide on the ground before coming to a stop. All the force behind his strike had been redirected into the kick the man used on him. For a moment, he thought he had made an impact against the C-Ranker, but there had been a strange lack of resistance. Almost immediately after, he bounced across the dirt.
Brick had just arrived to watch the match. He scanned the arena quickly before locating his friend on the ground. “Tayven! Are you alright?”
Tayven took a deep, ragged breath. Every second was painful, and he also felt a few pops. “Yes, I may have broken a rib…or two.”
Brick quickly lifted his friend’s shirt and examined him for any signs of internal damage or bleeding, but saw nothing too concerning, which allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief.
“You lucky bastard,” Brick laughed, “I cannot believe you tried to fight a C-Ranker!” Tayven chuckled along with his friend, but winced from the pain. A visit to the Volari clerics was certainly in order.
“Good win.”
The C-Ranker nodded at Tayven, again with no signs of sarcasm or disdain. If anything, his zoned-out eyes came into focus just enough for him to provide respectful acknowledgement of Tayven’s performance. Red blood trailed down the man’s cheek, sourced from a small cut along his cheek. I did it. The C-Ranker turned and left the area, passing the students and some professors who had also gathered out of curiosity. What struck Tayven as odd was that Professor Lylah vas Mithra was glaring at him. To the untrained eye, it appeared as though she was angry with him injuring her student. When her gaze shifted to the boy on the ground, her eyes did not change. She kept that angry, disdainful look.
For a moment, I could have sworn she was angry on behalf of her student. Then again, it is Professor Lylah. Tayven sighed quietly. Brick grabbed his hand to help pull him back to his feet. His friend then kindly offered himself as a support to guide the injured boy to the clinic. On their way, they walked past Ven.
“What happened? What’d you do?” she shouted, rushing toward them. She was wearing a thicker jacket and had a flushed expression. Wherever she had been before, she had run all the way to them. “I heard something ridiculous and headed this way immediately. I take it the rumor about you fighting that new student is true, then?”
“Yep,” Brick answered for his friend.
“I fought him and won.”
Ven’s eyes opened wide. “You won? You are strong, but you aren’t C-Rank strong.”
Tayven grimaced as he laughed out loud. “You are right. I got my ass kicked, hands down. But the bet was for me to land a strike, and I grazed his cheek!” The blue-haired boy was pumping his fist in satisfaction, as if scratching someone’s cheek was a grand task. It is, isn’t it?
“Bet?”
“Yeah, if I could hit him just once, he would join our party.” Tayven grinned. “And, of course, I won the bet. That’s all that matters. Even if I had to pull out Full-Body and Leap enhancements.”
Ven whistled after she saw Brick’s nod of acknowledgement, clearly impressed by her friend’s performance. No doubt she was also elated they had added a powerhouse to their team. Not only that, but one that would let them go on missions while first-years. “So, what kind of Aura skills does he use?”
“I don’t know. Didn’t ask…” Tayven muttered.
“Did you not pay attention when he used his in the fight, dumbass? We need to know that to plan our strategies on jobs!” Ven growled.
Tayven coughed awkwardly as a faint redness creeped into his cheeks. It was feeling less and less like a win… “Actually, he kicked my ass without using Aura.”
Ven’s eyes went wide. “Did he use a short sword? And maybe a small buckler on his forearm?”
“Um, no? We used longswords. Single-handed combat with no shields. I’d be surprised if he fought well with a shield at all. The way he moved it seemed like his specialty was single-blade combat. Anything else in his hands would probably slow him down. Couple that with the fact that it took everything I had just to glance a blow on his face as it was…” Brick eyed his friend with pity.
The longer the conversation went on, the quicker Tayven’s pride left him. Ven nodded along before cutting the conversation there and joined them on the trip to the clinic. Based on the look in her eyes, Ven, too realized he was becoming less and less satisfied with the effort his duel had required to get such a tiny result.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Teryn
“No!” Teryn’s scream ripped through the air, echoing through a seemingly lifeless space filled with gnarled husks of trees and the desiccated corpses of fallen bandits. The only response was a cruel, dry chuckle from the Wraith.
Black mist rose from Rune’s neck. The smell of burning flesh assaulted Teryn’s senses. No, no, no, no! Not like them… Teryn’s thoughts were consumed by saving her only remaining friend. It blocked out any sense of self-preservation as she helplessly assailed the monster with her sword. The creature barely reacted to her attacks at first, but then it released its grip on the boy.
Teryn feared the worst, refusing to look to where Rune fell. Tears filled her eyes; rage overwhelmed her heart. For a fraction of a second, she thought she sensed something else behind her. A powerful tug yanked her backward, forcing her to cough as her armor constricted her neck. The horrifically ugly visage of the Wraith in her vision was replaced with the branches overhead as she went from vertical to horizontal. For a moment, she saw a flash of graying hair. Before she could process anything, her back slammed into the ground, expelling the air from her lungs.
Lying next to her was the gasping form of Rune. His eyes were tightly shut with his hands protectively covering his neck. Standing between them and their demise was the familiar form of a disheveled man. His messy hair and unkempt beard were a welcome and surprising sight.
“Karl,” Teryn whimpered. “Thank you, but you have to run!”
The Wraith stood stark still. It did not leave or advance, choosing instead to stare down the new entity before it. Was it gauging who to consume first? Was it afraid? Karl laughed without breaking eye contact with the creature. “No, I don’t think I will, little lady. Don’t worry, everything will be alright. You just watch the boy. Once he’s stable, maybe take some notes.”
“Notes?”
Karl continued to laugh. There was no hint of fear or concern contained within. “Not every day you get to see someone kick a Wraith’s boney ass.”
With that, the Wraith hissed. It dropped low with its hands stretched outward, like a two-legged beast ready to leap. Karl responded in kind with a similar stance. It was at that moment Teryn realized that the old man lacked any weapons. His tattered overcoat swayed with his movements, revealing that he lacked anything on his hips either.
What is he…
A flash of purple light formed in Karl’s hands, thrown like a ball directly at the Wraith’s head. It deftly ducked and propelled itself toward him. Karl snapped his fingers, resulting in a barrier of purple light forming directly in between them. A pained grunt erupted from the creature as it slammed into the wall of light. Using the precious seconds that had bought him, Karl moved to a still-living tree. His arms glowed, each vein was highlighted with purple light.
“Enhancement…Barriers… Pulses…” Rune whispered. “What is this?”
His voice was gravelly and pained. Teryn quickly pulled him into her lap. There was no way he could move in his current condition. She looked into his eyes and across his body, examining everything she could. Rune’s skin was the same shade as before. His eyes were still that alluring hazel with purple flecks and that new purple ring.
“Beautiful…” she whispered despite herself. When he coughed, she redoubled her efforts in her panicked examination. The sounds of battle continued in the background. Waves of Aura washed over them, but right now. the only thing on her mind was making sure Rune was okay. Thankfully, there was no clear sign of a Ghoul transformation occurring.
Rune’s gaze moved from Karl’s fight to the bodies of their friends. Jeruul’s headless form remained where it had dropped. The torso was torn to shreds and barely recognizable. Teryn followed his gaze and felt her stomach lurch. She looked over to check on Dannon, but noticed that his body was gone. The hair on her neck stood on end. A hot, damp breath brushed against her ear.
A garbled groan confirmed her fear: Dannon had been turned. She felt Rune twitch in her lap and heard a metallic scrape from behind her head. Somehow, he had gathered the strength to block Dannon’s clawed hands from descending onto them. Rune’s arms trembled. Dannon was attacking from above, using his body weight to press down on them. In the meantime, Rune lay awkwardly, his arms around Teryn, and his sword held firmly in both hands. Teryn could not turn, lest she risk impeding Rune’s efforts. She closed her eyes and reached out with her senses. Something had to give in this or they would die here. Karl had given them a real chance at survival. She had to help.
Despite never having done it before, Teryn sensed a weak connection to a tree behind them. Until now, she had only ever manipulated the Aura of things like vines, grass, or flowers, each of them was already pliable. She had never really practiced on something as sturdy as a tree. On top of that, most of the plant life in the vicinity had long since perished from the Wraith or the various Aura skills that had assaulted them. Thankfully, one still stood, only barely clinging on to life. Whatever it was that the Wraith had done had not only drained the energy from the surrounding forest, but the scant amount left behind was outside of her ability to manipulate or was corrupted and decayed.
Dannon’s garbled groans pressed ever closer. Rune’s arms trembled even greater. Finally gaining control over something, she watched as a nearby branch reached forward and wrapped around Dannon, yanking him away from them. Teryn collapsed from the effort, the stress of manipulating a tree turned out to be dozens of times more difficult than grass or vines. Rune rolled out from beneath her to take on a ready position.
Wood creaked and groaned in protest as Dannon’s clawed hands pried at the branches restraining him by the neck. With a loud crack, he broke free and rushed them once more. Splinters and chunks of decaying wood peppered them. Rune prepared to react to the strike, but something rushed past them, impaling the Ghoul against the same tree that had previously trapped it. Anna, the green-haired protector of Vincent, wiggled her large sword, pushing it deeper into the creature and into the wood behind it. After a moment of twitching, Dannon ceased moving and hung limply from her weapon.
