Chapter 105: A Lull At Riventread

Subject: Caim Location: Riventread - Outskirts Caim looked up at the mountain of flesh moving above him. The gigantic body of the blightbeast was bearing down, and he still couldn’t move. "Hold tight", he tried to urge himself, but all he produced was an uninspiringly hoarse whisper. Gire's last projectile had been a strangely glowing bolt. Once fired, it had detonated with a more magnificent explosion than ever yet. Over their heads, streaks of red smoke hurtled upwards. It was followed by more columns of smoke, in a circular arrangement around the festerfont’s border. The breachworm lurched forward, it’s coils grinding against the battered landscape. Caim felt his body slipping into the crevasse opening up beneath him, but his arms still weren’t responding. Splintering rock had crushed his bones. A terrifying screech pierced the air. Caim knew what it was, and he didn't have the energy to look. Scion [ Heavy Damage Sustained ] To make matters worse, the breachworm’s head was crashing down on the both of them. sheltering in the crevasse would not be enough to save them. To his side, Caim could hear Gire sucking in raspy breaths. Something had caused damage to his body that Flourish Catalyst could not regenerate. Was it that pain suppressant I took earlier? Why don't I feel it? They’d succeeded in injuring the breachworm so much that it couldn’t fully support its own weight, but they were to be crushed by it. It wasn't nearly dead. Maybe I can lead it away? Caim was still too injured. He struggled to pull himself back up to the surface and onto his feet, using only his legs, as his arms remained broken and limp. Gire realized the peril they were both in and fought to push Caim away from the breachworm’s enormous shadow. Gire stabbed a blade into a dense plate of rock on the far side, pulling rope from his pack and binding it around Caim's torso . He was fighting so hard to stay alive, but he could barely breathe. He didn't have time to secure himself. Suddenly, it sounded like the ground was giving way under the blightbeast’s weight. Caim's couldn't open his eyes. The most he could do was stay standing, but not for long. A cloud of dust and rocky debris accompanied a blistering wave of heat. Caim didn't know was happening, but he was falling backward. His eyes opened, but his vision was unfocused and blurry. It was a small consolation that he was numb to the pain. His body slid backwards, falling down the crevasse, until the rope pulled taut. He hung there. He heard Gire tumble far down below, to the inky blackness at the bottom. Even if he couldn't see it, he remembered what the fall looked like, and it wasn't one you could survive. Not like the small tumble he'd taken into the cave system earlier in the battle. Scion [ Objective Accomplished ] Flourish Catalyst [ Beacon B Damaged ] [ Flourish Revival Activated ] Wisps of light escaped into the atmosphere all around them. Was this what it looked like when a blightbeast as titanic as a breachworm discorporate? How did we win? I suppose I'm the only one left... The strain of the long battle finally did him in. Caim began drifting off. Subject: Caim Location: Riventread - Outskirts Caim couldn’t see, but he felt like gravity had abandoned him. He couldn’t think clearly, but his mind was racing faster than ever for the effort of trying. What was happening? He was lying on his back. Caim wondered if he’d missed anything sourcetech-related while he was unconscious. A sudden fear overcame him. What if he could no longer use the power he'd relied on since arriving? He reached out, but nothing answered. Scion, he called, in a panic. At once, the Sovereign Scion answered him, appearing in a glittering shower of silver particles. This drew the attention of everyone around. And there were people around. "What's your command?" it asked, with a bizarre eagerness in it's "mental voice", clashing with the violent nature of its purpose. "Initiate," a man called out. He opened his eyes and saw beautiful pastel clouds past a haze of airborne dust. It should have been a novel sight… fated to be ignored, for all the danger down here. And then, at ground level, there was Gire’s disapproving face scowling down on him. Wait. That wasn't right. First of all, it wasn't a scowl. Second... it wasn't Gire. A figure in a more ornately decorated Guild Defender armor stared down at him in disbelief. He was saying something, but not to Caim. He'd been walking alongside Caim, as Caim was carried to safety on a stretcher. Caim was staring at the Blightbane patterning on his armor. It was hard to describe, but something resembling an organic cage. A pattern of shadows and sinew, twisting around the armor, beautiful and subtly horrifying. He might not have noticed the dark undertones before witnessing the breachworm blightbeast. Three others drew their solblades in response to witnessing Scion's summoning. "No target," Caim halted Scion's threat routine with an exhausted wave of his hand. One of the soldiers saw this, and when Scion began to circle aimlessly, he urged the others to sheathe their weapons. "It's the..." he whispered, but Caim couldn't make out all the words. "otherwise... the metal mage." This place actually has some magnificent sights. I’d actually like to see some more of them. Can’t I? Something was wrong with the calm air about them. The Defenders were tense, yes, but everything else was quiet. Where was the breachworm? "What happened?" he asked. Another person answered. Wearing armor even more ornate than the Defender, this was undoubtedly the Defender's superior. He didn't have a helmet on. He had crystal blue eyes and short-cut blonde hair, darkened by the fading light of the evening sun. "When we found you, you were suspended, unconscious, with this dagger here attached to the rope supporting you." Caim nodded, remembering that sequence of events. "This is a Tracer’s blade, a common adornment used by our Intelligence Officers… It serves as a form of identification in case their bodies cannot be recovered, or are otherwise made unrecognizable." The knife cut him with piercing pangs of guilt. Gire could have made it out if he had been there alone. Even if he hadn’t defeated the blightbeast alone, he’d have found a way to outlast it. Shouldn't he be alive? "Do you know why this weapon was on your person? Were you alone in Riventread?" It wasn't yet an accusation, but Caim knew he needed to tell the truth here. "That is Gire’s blade." The man's unadorned head revealed his stern features. "So... he told you his name." Caim looked up at the soldier, clad in armor barely reminiscent of the Guild Defenders. Triangular metal plates adorned the chest, and shoulders, dyed black with a pale blue outline. Subtly glowing, the plates seemed alive. The blue light pulsed in and out, pleasantly lulling Caim back to sleep. He could probably sleep some more, right? "No. Stay awake, son. Though my Lifemages seem to believe you are relatively unscathed, defying reason, I don’t want you drifting off again." Caim snapped awake and jumped into an upright sitting position. Without a command, Scion dispersed. He swung his head around to look back at the precipice where he'd last seen Gire. "Leave us," the stranger ordered to the armor-clad men and women around them. They gave a curt Guild salute and left. So, they were with the Blightbane Guild. Like Defenders, but maybe with a different purpose? Like rescuers? Or... assault specialists. "Arch Commander Everett Row," the man introduced himself. "The spells of talented mages never cease to amaze me." The commander may have been complimenting the capabilities of mages, but his solemn expression, and a tone laced with a hint of revulsion, told Caim that he may have encountered some terrible magic in his time. Caim couldn't guess at ages in this world, but he might have been forty or so. Without meaning to, Caim mumbled an apology on behalf of those mages. "No need. I do, however, have some questions I'd like you to answer." "I'm not sure if I'll know enough to answer them, but please go ahead." "You should know enough. Now, your badge says you're an Initiate, Your magic says otherwise. Am I right in believing you are the Guild's rumored Metal Mage?" Metal Mage? Was that some kind of nickname for him? "I summon constructs that look like they're made from metal, yes, but I don't know what rumors you're referring to. I am an inexperienced Initiate. Today proves that." The commander's gaze hardened. "The Guild has a policy of not prying into a person's personal life any more than we need to, but I'm no diplomat. I protect people by killing things, including people. You'll have to forgive me for being blunt, but why didn't an Initiate run when you sensed danger?" Caim explained everything that had happened, and why he had done what he did. While he was talking, he looked around at the soldiers inspecting the scene and patrolling for any blightbeasts that might appear in the bizarrely barren festerfont. "So, you weren't confidant you could kill something like a breachworm? You were only curious and wanted to help?" Commander Row didn't believe him. "I'll admit, I do sometimes make poor decisions. Mille is always annoyed about it." "Would this Mille person happen to be a faron?" The commander asked, eyebrows raised. Caim nodded. "She complains and tells me I'll meet a foolish death, but I'm getting better at judging whether a situation is dangerous or not. I'll keep trying to improve." "The metal mage is her seeker? She works fast, true to her reputation. I'll have to follow up with Mille after this, but I know better than to second-guess a decision of hers. I have enough to make my report. You should receive a sizable portion of the emergency bounty for your contributions. It will be more than enough for new armor." His attitude had completely changed at the mention of Mille's name. Now, the commander was forcing an awkward smile, trying harder to reassure Caim, who had only just noticed the ravaged state of his armor. The robe was gone. The layer beneath was completely torn and gashed, with pieces hanging off, and some chunks of armor missing entirely. The Commander gestured to his underlings and they hastened their efforts. "I'll need this for my report, but will you tell me how Tracer Gire fell?" Caim stood up, stumbling over to the abyss that had swallowed up Gire. Sand and rock was sliding into the hole. Commander Row held him back before he could get to the edge. "He fell down--" Caim began, but a mental jolt stopped him mid-thought. Flourish Catalyst [ Flourish Revival Complete ] "Commander, I need you to keep what you're about to see between us." "Move out to the perimeter," the commander hastily shouted. After hearing Mille's name and connecting that with the ridiculous title "metal mage", his attitude was entirely different. A column of brilliant green fired high into the air, piercing all the way to the pastel clouds above. The column continued expanding until Caim and Everett could feel the intense static charge of energy. The commander pushed Caim further back, pulling out a heavy metal shield off his back. He sheltered the both of them, but Caim wasn't afraid. It was clear what this was. A figure slowly rose from the darkness below, travelling up the column. It was Gire, but his back was arched, and he didn't appear to be conscious, or even alive. Then, a thunderous pulse, surged through the section of the column where Gire hovered, expanding in a small sphere of white. Gire's body twitched. Another pulse, and the Tracer's muscles began to tighten and relax. After some time, he open his eyes, and Caim could somewhat make out a conscious expression. Pain. Gire was in immense pain. "Aaarrrrrggghhh!" he howled. The commander adjusted his shield in disbelief. "What am I looking at, metal mage?" Gire continued howling, thrashing about until his voice grew hoarse from the effort. "It-- It's a kind of a regeneration spell," he mumbled. "Regeneration? That was Gire's corpse just now!" the hulking man exclaimed. He was shaken, but he was stepping closer to his newly-awakened comrade. "He almost died," Caim corrected, but it was true that Caim knew none of the details himself.