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Monarch - Pyrrhic XII
🕑 Added 2022-09-03 08:19:26 +0000 UTCI knelt in the center of the room and attempted to clear my mind of all distraction. The memory of Maya’s parting threatened to resurface, over and over. I bore down on it ruthlessly until there was nothing but a blank.
“Water coming down.” One of the servants warned. A second later, a frigid torrent flooded over me, soaking me in fragrant water that immediately sapped my body heat.
There’s a rare consistency between apothecary and alchemy. The more powerful a potion is, the worse it tastes. Lillian told me, once, that this point of reference was so pervasive many folk used it to discern whether they were being ripped off or tricked.
If someone paid a high price for a rare cure, and that cure tasted like water, they could reasonably draw the conclusion they were being ripped off.
Alternately, if a person took a simple stamina potion, and it tasted like swill, there was a good chance something nefarious was at play.
Which is why, as I drank the potion down to the last drop and tasted nothing, I felt the beginnings of alarm. There was little likelihood that something was wrong with the potion—despite Veldani’s complaints, I’d worked with Casikas enough to know the man was exceptionally talented. Aside from the massive gulf of experience, Veldani was a dyed-in-the-wool perfectionist.
It was far more likely that this potion, in particular, was set apart.
I set my teeth and waited.
Ralakos dismissed some additional infernals who had run out of things to do, and were clearly anxious, contributing to the uneasy atmosphere.
All that remained was myself, Veldani, Vogrin, the life mage, and Titus, as well as Ralakos and a handful of his mages and servants.
“This is some sinister shite.” Titus murmured. It wasn’t difficult to imagine how this looked to an outsider. I was kneeling within a complex inscription circle, meant to contain the flame. Even with that precaution taken, the servants cleared the room, pushing anything flammable to the far ends. Newly replaced torches at each corner of the room burned a blue flame, white lines trailing from their sconces, down the walls, to the inscription circle.
It was the best Ralakos could manage on such short notice, but to an outsider, it must have looked like a prelude to a blood sacrifice.
For all we knew, it might be.
“Any last-minute advice for me, master?” I tried.
Veldani studied the stone floor’s patterns, as she had for the last half hour. Her lips twitched, and she held her silence.
I returned to meditating, eventually opening one eye as I felt Vogrin’s presence draw close. He looked profoundly uncomfortable. Demons weren’t typically allowed within the Enclave, but Ralakos made an exception given the circumstances.
“It is mildly unsettling, being conjured amongst a network of wards that could remove me from this plane at any given moment.” Vogrin observed. “For the record, I’ll be disappointed if you die.”
“Can’t have that, can we?”
Ralakos placed a hand on my shoulder. “Keep your intention at the forefront of your thoughts. No matter what happens. Unfortunately, we can’t use a void mage to avoid the worst of it. Practitioners who attempt to void out the immolation see no benefit whatsoever. Still, I’ve brought them to slow the spread.” Ralakos pointed to two other mages standing in the open entryway. “They’re on circulation duty, so you won’t burn through the air and asphyxiate. And Kymar will heal you continuously throughout the process.”
Kymar was a stern looking blue with horns that emerged closer to the side of his head rather than the top, giving him a distinctly bull-like impression. I caught snippets of conversation as he prepared Ralakos’s servants.
“—Keep dousing him at a steady rate. Don’t panic, if things seem out of control. As long as the flames don’t cover his entire body, I can keep him alive.”
I closed my eyes. Whenever things were at their most desperate, my mind wandered to one memory in particular. A picnic with Lillian, the day she discovered she was pregnant. It was the happiest I’d ever been. While I was afraid, it was clear that Lillian was more terrified than I was, and I’d found it within myself to be strong for her.
I needed that same strength now.
But Lillian was gone. Everything else was from the memory was the same. The scenic hillside, the wildlife, all the way down to the basket filled with food. Yet no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t call her to mind.
I doubled over suddenly, palms slapping painfully against the stone. My stomach tied itself in knot after knot in a rapid onset of cramps. A warm, sickly sensation spread throughout my body.
“Get ready!” Ralakos turned and shouted.
The warmth grew hotter, and the scent of burning skin reached my nose. I shuddered as the feeling of heat escalated and violet flame erupted from my hands, still pressed solidly against the ground. There was a cold flash as the servants emptied another jar of rosewater over my head. The stony ground was covered in water for a moment, evaporated drought-dry the next.
A voice spoke in my mind.
”Who are you?”
”I am Cairn. Son of Gil. Agent of Infaris. Bearer of the Sacred Flame.”
”You are not worthy.”
The fire in my veins grew hotter by an order of magnitude. I managed to hold my silence, until violet fire erupted from my eyes, blinding me.
A flash of cold speared me as the servants emptied another jug. It hissed immediately, most of it turning to steam. Something pressed against my back, creating a precious instant of respite as the fire in my blood dimmed. Kymar, buying time.
My vision returned, blurry, as shapeless silhouettes scurried around me. As I struggled, trying desperately to ignore the pain, my mind wandered to the last time the fire had burned me. My sister’s screams as the flames consumed her, and my panic as I rushed her to the fountain, only discovering too late that ordinary water was useless.
There was a searing agony in my back that doubled as Kymar yanked his hand away, healing magic dissipating immediately.
“Help him!” Ralakos shouted.
“I cannot heal what I cannot touch, Councillor.” Kymar sounded just as panicked.
Ralakos spoke again, his voice close. “The worst will pass soon. Endure.”
The servants emptied what must have been a half-dozen jugs, one after another. Only the last offered any notable effect, the rest evaporated before they touched me. Kymar’s hand found my back once more. Healing magic finally flooded me, and I nearly lost consciousness from the relief alone.
The fire rallied, and Kymar yanked his hand away. I screamed as the wrath of the hells filled me, every nerve aflame.
“The stink of divine weighs heavy. Something is interfering. Making this harder than it should be.” Through my hazy vision, I saw Vogrin sitting across from me. He was staring at me like I was a riddle.
“Can you stop it?” Ralakos asked.
“Stop? No. Misdirect, maybe. Depending on the source.” He leaned down. “I got the sense that you did something to anger Infaris, the last time you talked?”
“Possibly.” I said through grit teeth. “We had a minor disagreement.”
Vogrin glanced at Ralakos. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
Ralakos huffed and took several steps back, close enough that he could still rush forward if necessary.
“How minor, exactly?” Vogrin said. Kymar was still in earshot, but there was nothing to be done about that.
“The last time we spoke, Infaris was different from before. More domineering. She warned me… to avoid seeking certain aspects of my past, whenever I returned home. That I was better off forgetting them.”
Vogrin inclined his head thoughtfully. “Suspiciously prophetic in retrospect, now that your course has altered.”
“Nothing Infaris hadn’t said before.” My left hand slipped. I caught myself just before my head collided with the stone. It felt surprisingly cool against my forehead, and I let myself rest there. “I was surprised we returned to the topic. She’s always been a proponent of progressing the future, rather than miring yourself in the past. Generally, I agree. But I need… closure. When I said as much, she reacted explosively. Cast me out, warning me not to return until I saw reason.”
“Sounds as if she questions your resolve. How rote. In any case, that is good news, as I doubt this is her doing. If it was, there would be no chance of intercession. Infaris is many things, but she is not as petty as the rest of the old gods. I’ll see what I can do.” Vogrin took a step back and disappeared.
After what felt like a small eternity, the flames dimmed somewhat.
Then exploded.
Kymar fell back, rolling desperately on the ground as violet flames consumed the fabric of his tunic. Ralakos held up a multi-stage aegis that began to crack almost immediately, pushing him back across the room.
The pain swallowed everything. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.
”I know who you are, Son of Gil. How you’ll taint that venerated fire you rely on so recklessly. I’ve seen it, time and time again. You will never be worthy.” The voice boomed in my mind, pompous and condescending.
I tried to speak to it by directing my thoughts, the same way I’d conversed with the beast.
”When you asked who I was, I answered. Extend the same courtesy. I cannot negotiate with an unidentified voice.”
The voice giggled. It was a perverse sound, twisted. ”Give advance warning, so you can scramble to find a way to shield yourself from me the next cycle? You must take me as a fool.”
My flesh was raw and red. The flames licked up my face and I closed my eyes, before they could damage my vision again. I tried to take solace in the fact that I still reserved some portion of immunity. If I hadn’t, I would have easily burned to death in a fraction of the time.
Darkness closed in on me, as my nerves began to fail. I forced my eyes open just in time to see a wave of purple fire hurtling in my direction.
All at once, it stopped. Not entirely, as there were still tufts of flame on the tatters of my clothing, but they were no larger than a candle. Kymar had recovered as well, and gawked at the side of the room.
Veldani was on her feet, transformed from a weak old woman to warrior, wreathed in violet flame that cloaked her like an aura. She extended a hand towards me. I felt the fire flare, as it had before, only this time, it was cut short before it gained purchase.
It shouldn’t have been possible. Only the mage that created the fire was able to control it. “How?” I croaked.
Veldani gave me a crooked smile. “Clever as you are, there is always something more to learn.”
Of course. Demon fire mages had to have clashed in the past. It occurred to me, in the numbed out recesses of my mind, that this probably wasn’t something Veldani would bother teaching me, purely on the basis of demon-fire being almost nonexistent.
“Up. Our time is waning quickly.”
I staggered to my feet.
Kymar had quickly shaken off his shock and begun to heal me once more. There was an unpleasant sensation as my annihilated nerves regenerated alongside my charred flesh, like a pervasive tingling that wouldn’t stop.
I dragged myself to the dimension gate. Large movements were excruciating, so I took small, limited steps until I reached it.
Veldani followed. When it became clear the flames would not resurge, she finally dropped her arm, sliding down the left leg of the dimension gate with a heavy sigh.
Titus stood next to the gate. The dwarf was far more withdrawn than before, and seemed to have an issue looking at me. “All good?”
I regarded him with some amusement. “I survived. But you look as if you toured the hells.”
“It’s nothing, lad.” Titus said. “Nothing at all.” Then his stomach rumbled loudly. Connecting the dots, I pretended not to notice, clapping him on the shoulder as I passed.
“Maintain focus and attention,” Veldani instructed. As soon as she propped herself up against the gate, the fight drained out of her. “Do not rush.”
I nodded, knelt down in front of the gate and began to work.
