27 End of Brutality

I charged towards him before he placed out a blackened hand. My fist collided with his palm, bending iron and breaking bones screeching. As I swung my other fist, he said, “You fight,” He bent backwards, dodging by rat’s hair before continuing, “like a mongrel-”

A set of claws hard as brimstone sliced into his face as four streaks of shine bloomed through his black face. His eyes ceased their dancing as he bent forward and slung the weight of his leg into chest. My chest caved inwards, revealing teeth at the end of my ribs that chomped into his foot as I grabbed him and pulled him deeper while saying,

“I told you. I’m a monster.”

Ever since fighting Petra, I’d decreased the ph of my blood until it could corrode through solid rock. Jerking his hand from the burning pit, his hand sizzled and shined bright as Solomon’s platemail. After glancing at his hand, Kade hissed, “What sorcery is this?”

My torso closed as I rasped, “My own miracle.”

Kade grabbed a chain from atop the tree before swinging upwards, so I followed with a leap of my own. He turned midair before slamming his foot into my skull, but it caved in once more. The edges of my bones clamped into his booted feet before I dragged him down. The air around me emptied into a void before a clear wave crushed into me like a chipped cliff.

Flying backwards, I impacted against steel tree, wood snapping as the metal tubes crumpled. The sticky sap intermingled with the wounds on my back before I fell onto the metal floor. After shaking my head, a chain’s links clanked before a line of metal slapped into my side, snapping my ribs and splitting my skin.

The vision around me tumbled into a blurred circle as agony radiated from my snapped sides. My senses grew hazy before a voice entered my ears,

“You’ve got quite the offense, but you snap like a twig.”

Saliva pooled in my mouth, but my own blood tasted like copper rather than sweet as sugar. I spit out a tooth and glob of liquid as I said, “Then you crumple like paper.”

Focusing my efforts, the sinews of my skin restored while my tendons and muscles squirmed back into place. Kade threw down the chain before spreading both his hands to his side. Pulling on an invisible force, he strained before his hands clapped in front of him. Kinetic force trampled me from both sides as crimson spouted from my mouth and out my wounds like squeezing a cherry.

My arms broke. My legs hanged limp and lifeless. Both clavicles pulverized into my torso before Kade leapt towards with both hands gripped together and over his head. His legs and arms reared back before a rare, powerful emotion exploded in my chest; it was fear. My blood built me back up, forcing my flopping organs and bones together. Before his hands split my broken body in two, stray bones and hands rolled me away from him before I slurped away from him.

Rolling like barrel down a hill, my body gained momentum before I rolled down the set off steps leading up to Kade’s fortress. He sprinted behind me, his footsteps thumping as he shouted in his metallic voice,

“Come on. You were so eager before.”

As I rolled past several screaming Blackirons, my blood snapped onto them before submerging them in my body. Within seconds, I assimilated five members before the moth collector of before stood in the way of my exit, his metal skin omening my doom.

Kade chided behind me, “Good luck passing Macor.”

Pools of mothen milk surrounded me along with glowing steel over the pits. Heat sizzled over them as several dozen hands rolled me forward. Macor spread his arms and leaned down, so I slipped sideways before he tackled into my side. My globular body fell over a pit before grabbing ahold of Macor’s leg and dragging him down with me.

He caught the side of the ledge, so we both hung over the pit of glowing white. Heat solidified the blood at my bottom and drained my strength as I dried up. Cracks radiated up my deformed body while the black pit metal surrounding me, preventing my escape. As I glanced upwards, light leaked through the green canopy overhead. Anguish grew in my body as I glanced around with several floating eyes in my sluggy body.

I found no escape, so glanced upwards where Kade glanced down at me and spread his arms as he said, “Pathetic. You tried using my allies as hostages.”

As he spoke, my body crawled ever so slowly up and over Macor as I gurgled, “No...I assimilated them.”

Kade reared back before saying, “What? Assimilated?”

“They are a part of me now.”

Kade gripped the edges of his head before scratching his head as he howled, “You demon. You...you’re an abomination. You were dead the moment you walked in here. Why did you kill them?”

A blob of black blood shot up and into the eyes and ears and mouth of Macor as I said, “I...need to...survive.”

Kadelet let his arms lower down to his sides as he said, “You’ve killed five innocent people. You’re just like the so called saints of Nelastra. You are nothing but a hollow, evil monster.”

More and more of my body flooded in Macor’s body as I gurgled, “Think...why would I not bring other...saints with me when I came here?”

His eyes squinted as I made Macor’s body my own. As Macor died, I gripped the ledge with his iron fingers as Kade said, “So you were the new Saint?”

“Yes.”

“Then you shouldn’t have challenged the only exile in the saint’s history as your opponent.”

I spit out bits of phlegm from my globular mouth as I rasped, “Exile?”

“I denied their sainthood. I stayed with my fallen brothers. I wouldn’t leave them to rot while I lived in luxury. It doesn’t matter. You’re dead now.”

My mind strained until my body convulsed as I rapidly absorbed all the intricacies of Macor’s metal body. I analyzed and learned all the pieces of his body before Kade reached down and said,

“Excellent work brother. We’ll watch him burn in the pit.”

I grabbed his hand with Macor’s before Kade squinted his eyes at Macor. He said, “What’s wrong, the heat getting to your head?”

Kade grabbed and pulled Macor’s head up, revealing the torrent of blood funneling into his mouth and nose and eyes along with my flesh and bones.

Kade’s eyes popped open before he gagged and thundered, “You stole my brother. You filthy mongrel.”

Macor’s dead hand clamped onto Kade before the black warrior reared back his right hand overhead. Pulling the same unseen force, Kade growled and grimaced as he slammed a wave of power downward. A force denser than a solid wall of titanium and heavy as a planet forced me down right as I shoved myself into the iron shell of Marcor’s carcass.

The igneous, molten white innards of the moth’s devoured my shell as I strained for survival. The unbearable heat ebbed from all sides like being in the clamping jaws of a giant. The metal melted as tiny bits of the viscous white lava poured into my safe haven. My floating heart pounded as my mind expanded under the pressure.

Before I fell, I absorbed pieces of the moth’s sac from the skin of Macor, so I replicated the substance all around my globular body. Drops of the magma poured in through Macor’s steel body as he liquefied, burning my insides as I toiled and worked. Like living in fire, I created the sac around me right as the last remnants of Macor’s shell dissolved. There I floated in an endless expanse of scorching goop.

Bits of the heated slime coursed within me, so I quarantined the packets of pain with the moth sac before jetting them from me. After several minutes, I refocused my thoughts before using pieces of the Blackiron’s bodies for creating my own. Like a caterpillar in a cocoon, Jack’s normal form balled up in this semiclear sac.

After a few minutes, I incorporated the sac into the structure of my own skin, allowing movement in this mushy prison. My oxygen reserves dwindled before I swam for the surface before slamming into iron. Feeling with fingers, I searched for the surface before finding an opening above me.

With a careful, creeping rise, I pushed my head above the slop before inhaling slowly as I could. The burning air dried my lungs. The heat pushed my body to the borders of death. My fingers and feet numbed from burns, yet I lived. I had lived.

After scooping the milk from me, Kade’s voice entered my ears in a distant echo,

“They’ve sent an abomination to kill us. The palisade will not stop until we exiles have been decimated. We must kill them before I calcify.”

My curiosity peaked, so I crawled out of the mothen milk, clinging to the walls with claws on my hands and toes. Kade continued, “Soon I will die to the sickness that’s plagued our people for centuries. My iron skin will stop me from breathing. I will die a dog’s death if I let Gaia run her course, but I have other plans.”

The surrounding tribes roared before he shouted, “I will invade Nelastra and kill their pitiful saints. No more oppression. No more feeding our children scraps from their garbage. We will rise above. We will conquer.”

As he spoke, I moved my arm under the moth milk, finding no barriers between the pits, so I dove underneath before rising from another pit. Closer and closer I skulked towards Kade until I laid within a pit behind him. I created two pouches of the moth milk before sliding up the walls, silent as a winter night.

At the apex of his speech he said,

“We will crush this curse and give our people hope for the future. We will never see the convulsions of a starving child or the tears of their mother. We will-”

Leaping from the pit, I punctured the pouch over his back, smothering him in the super heated sludge. He panicked as he scrambled and writhed, the mush melting him as I said, “I thank your brother for shielding me. His corpse kept me safe until I escaped.” I patted my belly as I said, “I’ll send him my regards.”

The crowd screamed before I leapt onto Kade and tore the corrosive, white slop from his back before revealing Kade’s now shining exterior. He fell onto the ground as I leaned over him, my skin shivering and shaking as I growled,

“That telekinesis of yours must be difficult to channel when you're in so much pain.”

I Stabbed five fingers into his face before crushing his iron skin from him, revealing the green, mushy flesh underneath. He howled under his mask, muffled and in anguish,

“Why must it all end here. I had so much to do. I need to live. I must live.”

I scooped a piece of his flesh out as I said, “You will. You’re more useful alive than dead.”

Kade and the crowd quieted as I continued, “I’ll let you all live here, but never tell a single soul of what happened here or attempt another poisoning. Macor died from falling in these pits along with the others, not from the Darkened One eating him.”

Kade’s eyes blazed through his misshapen skull as he said, “You...You are the Darkened One?”

I leaned close as I said, “The ender of all and killer of gods. Remember my name. Remember my mercy.”

I released him before jumping into the trees with a sample of Kade’s meat and the mothen magma. They’d serve as delicious samples for study. Whatever source or knowledge he used for his power, I wanted it. Grinding a body into mush from a distance would serve as a useful skill.

After returning towards Solomon’s house, I fell onto my bed before falling asleep in an instant. Jack awoke this time, so he should continue our story.

It was a first. I almost always end up experiencing our grueling battles, so my mind exhausts itself. I then sleep for several days while Deluge attempts maintaining my daily life. On more than one occasion I’d opened my eyes with several of my friendships shattered and my body warped.

In that respect, I awoke that morning with a denser body. Before that moment, my skin moved like thick clay that bounced back into shape after releasing it. Whenever I pinched myself, I felt the consistency and hardness of pliable wood. Two pouches, one full of green mush and another full of a white, burning liquid stood in a pouch of hydra skin at my side.

Using my experiences as a reference, I discerned the material’s temperature to be around 2000 degrees. If it touched anything near here, it would instantly enflame whatever it touched. I believed that Deluge already killed our would be poisoners, and these were mementoes of his. He described the truth in detail later. We filled in the gaps of our knowledge during that discussion.

After stretching my muscles in the morning, our group enjoyed another breakfast with Solomon before he elaborated on what happened with Krakowah and Joan. Krakowah opened her eyes within an hour after I left, Joan slept until right before the sun rose, so I missed her by a few minutes at most. She left for training with Galen, the principal of the new academy, her grandfather, and the leader of the Arcanum. His life intertwined with our own in wicked web of lies. Galen seemed stable, however, so planning around him proved simple.

After the short discussion, Solomon spoke of what the Palisade actually expected from me. Very little, it turned out, so they assigned a small, easy task in their eyes. Instead of using their saints as tools, they utilized them like trump cards. They would get them out of difficult situations when the need arises, so they kept them healthy and happy until then.

That attitude left me with quite the gaps of free time, so after a nuanced negotiation, Solomon and I agreed to training with one another during the evenings. He wanted a challenge while I wanted experience versus a stronger enemy. It served us well during my stay there.

With that done, I met with Krakowah whose blood boiled in the palace. She paced all night and day in single line, her hair frazzled and her hands heated. Stepping past the elegant marble and excessive decour embroidering the walls, I walked up towards her menacing figure before tapping on her muscled shoulder as I said,

“Mind if I interrupt you?”

As if snapping from a trance, Krakowah replied, “Ah, of course. I just couldn’t forgive myself for what happened last night. If not for your intervention, I’d have died a dog’s death. Even now just thinking of it...”

Her gauntleted hands glowed with a white hot heat as she snarled, “It’s like there’s a storm raging in my mind. I can’t stand it. I-”

I sook her shoulder before saying, “Calm down. I’ve dealt with the poisoners. They were some spiteful tribe.”

She raised an eyebrow as she said, “Dealt with?”

I frowned as I said, “I purged them.”

She blinked before sighing as I let go off her shoulder. She tightened her grip, her knuckles white underneath her armor as she said, “It’s just...In that instance, I was less than useless. You drank almost all the poison, yet you willed your way through it, put us somewhere safe, then handled the threat before I even awoke.”

She relaxed her hands, air steaming from them before meeting she met my glance while saying, “You’re already a better saint than I am.”

I contemplated her words for a moment before saying, “It’s like this. Imagine if we’d fought against a crowd of acidic creatures. What do you believe would happen?”

She raised an eyebrow as she said, “What does that have to do with our sainthood?”

I placed a palm to her words as I said, “Just answer earnestly. What would happen?”

She shrugged before saying, “I would crush them with my chains while you crushed them with your fists.”

I shook my head and said, “There composed of acid. I couldn’t fight them since I only use my hands and feet in combat. You would dispatch them from a distance with ease. It would boil down to the specific circumstance and the talents we bring. I am immune to poison, therefore I handled the last crisis. You may handle the next one in a way that only you could.”

She stood taller and grinned as I continued with a hand cupping my chin, “Though, you may find matching me difficult. I have a habit of being awesome.”

She slapped my back, her big, broad hands knocking me forward before she said, “Hah, you’ve got fists of granite, a stomach of stone, and a tongue of silver. You’ll make Gaia proud one day. I know it.”

I stood straight as I said, “That's the idea.”

Krakowah froze for an instant before glancing at her hand, the metal glowing with heat before she stared at me and said, “I’m sorry. I forget myself at times. That must have hurt like a smith hammering his hand.”

I felt my back by stretching my arms around me before saying, “Eh, it’s not so bad.”

Krakowah squinted her eyes before grabbing my hand in hers. The playfulness of earlier ended as she pierced a glare right at my eyes. After a second, she boomed a laugh as she raised my right hand and said,

“You can handle this heat, Jericho. Tell me,what kind of training gave you this resilience?”

I glanced at my left palm as I said, “Ahhhh...Perhaps it’s gained from drinking a bit of the dragon’s blood.”

Krakowah let me hand go before punching my shoulder as she said, “Hah, good one. I’ve already tried myself. It just tastes like iron and salt. Didn’t feel a bit different the day after besides an unsettled stomach.”

Shrugging as if bewildered, I said, “Our bodies change in mysterious ways. One day you burn, the next you don’t. Only Gaia knows the origin of miracles.”

Krakowah opened her hands as she said, “If you’d rather not reveal any secrets, say so. It won’t bother me.”

I nodded before we walked out into the courtyard of the palace, birds singing songs as crickets drowned any quiet with their steady hum. The wind brushed leaves and cooled skin as Krakowah said, “It’s been a long time since anyone’s touched my hand and not been burned.”

I replied, “Would you mind disclosing the last instance?”

“It was when a member of the Blackiron tribe was offered up for sainthood. When I clasped his hand, he gripped mine in turn. I liked him quite a bit. He had a wild, hungry look in his eye, not unlike yours.”

I squinted my eyes as I said, “The Blackiron tribe?”

“They are one of the three strongest tribes along with the Dreadnought tribe and the Bloodglacier tribe. They were so prolific at one point that a member of their tribe was offered sainthood, but he neglected the offer. He has since been labeled a heretic along with his tribe, exiling them from Nelastra.”

I frowned as I said, “If you deny sainthood, then you’re exiled?”

“Of course. Denying sainthood is denying Gaia’s grace. You let her spirit within you, and you work for the church thereafter. It’s the highest honor imaginable, and certain saints become as influential as kings. Solomon is a perfect example.”

I remembered how he defied Abraham Elsiary who’s power rivals a king’s. After thinking it over, I said, “Why would he deny that honor?”

Krakowah opened her arms wide as she said, “It’s something I shouldn’t say.”

I squinted my eyes as I said, “Am I not trustworthy?”

Her shoulders slacked as she said, “No, I didn’t mean anything like that-”

I shoved her shoulder as I said, “Good, then how about sharing some of your hard earned wisdom with a young, ever so unwise saint?”

Krakowah burst into laughter as she said, “You're more dangerous with your words than your arms. Alright, I’ll tell you, even though it is not my secret to tell.”

I nodded before she leaned close while continuing, “The story starts with Solomon. You’ve seen how much larger he is than other saints, correct?”

I nodded before she continued, “That is a consequence of how he came to be. He told you of how he caught the fragment before it shattered on the ground?”

Nodding once more, she continued, “Well, I doubt he told you of who or what he was doing at that time. You see, he was a slave of Nelastra.”

My eyes opened wide as she continued, “You didn’t hear this from me of course, but he was a loyal labourer of the king. So loyal, in fact, that they let him near something as holy as a remnant of Gaia. He was much like the Blackiron’s exile, Kade. He had accumulated enough accolades to be considered a saint, yet they denied him the opportunity since he was from the forgotten tribes. That prejudice disgusts us Geshians since they changed from Gaia’s will.”

As we stopped walking under the shade of a wormwood, she said, “Regardless, when he caught the remnant, he didn’t let Gaia into his mind. He rejected her because he believed himself unworthy because he hadn’t been chosen yet. It was the ultimate showing of servitude.”

This remark sparked my attention above all her other words. Whenever Deluge and I absorbed the remnant of Gaia from Mareovosa, we struggled fighting her off with both our wills. To do so alone shows a resolve dense as gold and unbroken as brick. These thoughts danced in my mind as she continued,

“He had been the champion of the Dreadnought tribe, but even though their champion gained the status of a hero, nothing changed for their people. They continued being enslaved as mercenaries or guards or beasts of burden. I can tell you, Solomon’s only regret is how his people have been treated despite his service to Gaia.”

A grieving grimaced plastered to my face as I said, “So after seeing the neglect of the Dreadnought tribe, Kade decided against becoming a saint.”

Krakowah nodded before she said, “It’s a damn shame. I’ll never forget Kade’s words that dark day,

‘The church asks for my life and all that I am for what? You gain the Blackiron’s greatest champion, yet my people will languish just as we always have. This is an empty choice. I have not been chosen to be a saint. I have been commanded to be a slave.’”

Deluge and I learned this later, but Kade had said so right before grasping the remnant and forcing its presence from his mind as well. After hearing his story, I agreed with Kade. Solomon still lived in a small, quaint house surrounded by his dead family. It was such a sad, languishing life for a legendary hero. He deserved more after centuries of service, yet the church and king’s used him like a rag before throwing him away. They disguised their abuse behind pretty words, but I saw straight through their lies. I saw the awful truth with my own eyes.

Krakowah continued, her words strained, “Sadly enough, I believe that in more ways than one, he’s right. Human saints receive different recognition than other, nonhuman ones. From my own experiences, I’ve finished twice as many missions as Saint Ara, yet she receives far more fame and recognition.”

Of the many saints throughout Bastion’s history, several stuck out between the other names. Solomon stood head and shoulders above the rest, but Ara also had her feats recorded in any legitimate book of history. The down to earth opinions of these legendary figures closed the distance I’d felt from them.

Up till my visit to Nelastra, Saint’s seemed out of reach, like grabbing the sheen of a star in the sky. They accomplished the unbelievable. They acted as living angels, yet Solomon and Krakowah acted like friendly, flawed humans. They struggled through strife. They persevered through personal trials. They did not carry their long lives with the sadness of years. They carried the sadness of centuries, and they did so smiling.

In a way I never expected, they showed me the defiance of the human spirit. They restored my faith in man not through feats of strength, but with their humanity. They showed strong weakness with their hardship, not their triumph. They showed a flawed perfection with their regret, not their success.

I zoned out for at least a minute as these thoughts tumbled and turned in the chaotic storm of my mind. Krakowah kicked my shin, snapping me from my trance as she said, “I do not give out words lightly. Either listen or leave.”

I sighed before saying, “Ah, excuse me. I lost myself in thought.”

She frowned as she squinted her eyes and said, “So what thought is so important that you must ignore me?”

I glanced at her as I said, “How human you are.”

She stepped back, saying, “What? What do you mean human?”

“Saint’s are nothing like the perfect beings spoken of in legends. They are flawed as I am. I’ve realized that heroes like you and Solomon are people like me or anyone else, and that makes your lives far more remarkable.”

She blinked before nodding as she spoke more to herself than me, “That’s a reasonable thought to distract yourself with.” She stared at me, her eyes sharp as daggers, “You sound older than Solomon at times.”

I brushed my hair back as I said, “Even I have my moments of brilliance.”

Her lips made a thin line before she said, “One secret for another. Where did you come from?”

I bit my bottom lip before saying, “Well, somewhere far away.”

Krakowah spread her arms wide as she said, “Am I not trustworthy?”

I frowned as I said, “Way to weave my words against me.”

She grinned as she said, “I learned from the best.”

Glancing up, I said, “Hmm...Alright, I’ll tell you a little, but remember, this is a pact of secrecy. Do not let any rumors crop up.”

She beamed a grin as she pounded her chest with a fist as she said, “Of course. I’ll keep it between us saints.”

So I told her a little of my past. I was the bastard child of the Donovan family who had risen from my banishment after the death of my parents. Krakowah soaked in the knowledge like a dry desert soaks water as she asked questions about every facet of what happened after my parents died, but I glossed over the intricacies. I’d rather her not know the details considering my circumstances.

She learned little, but she appreciated the gesture regardless. I didn’t realize at the time, but Krakowah was a prolific gossip. Within a few short days, all of Nelastra knew that Saint Jericho was a member of the Donovan family. I still regret exposing any piece of my past to her that day, so much so that I cringe and choke and sink at the thought. I gave her a key to my past, and she spread the knowledge behind that closed door as if eating forbidden fruit.

I unleashed the miscreation and chaos lurking behind those doors. I unleashed the death of a kingdom and the downfall of Nelastra. I unleashed cataclysm.