《Snowstorm》Chapter Twenty-Eight
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“Magic is my one true passion. I have no interest in these ‘technologies’ peddled by you mundane swindlers. Least of all, this so called ‘coping mechanism’ and how it ‘fuels my escape from reality through false bravado and a superiority complex.’”
-Tim, the Grand [Magician]
-
Turning to face the rising sun, Snowflake heaved a sigh. With a conscious effort, he let some of the tension leave his shoulders. Unsatisfied with the results, he forced a pulse of chemical energy through his body. It helped ease the weariness that settled into his joints, along with a few aches and pains. Unfortunately, it did not do much for the weariness weighing on his mind.
The light pinks and yellows of dawn filtered through the tall buildings of the city. With each passing second, the darkness fled, but the shadows grew. The symbolism called to Snowflake, so he basked in it. High above, the clouds, painted in the soft colors of daybreak, moved and flowed at the touch of wind he could not feel.
Long seconds passed in beautiful silence. Then, the city began to wake. Birds sang to each other, the creak and slams of doors echoed out, and multitudes of soft noises added to the rising cacophony. The closest and dearest additions were Nevasca’s soft snores.
She was curled up with her long, feathered tail draped over her nose. Her ears twitched as she dreamed. The sight caused to Snowflake smile at his sleeping companion. It had been a long night for both of them.
His other companion broke their silence.
“Feeling better?”
Snowflake took one more second to enjoy the rising sun and deepening shadows before giving the most honest answer he could.
“As much as I think I can.”
Turning to face Mordai, Snowflake flashed him a grateful smile. The armored [Paladin] had stayed up all night sparring with him, punctuated with lectures on Spell and Skill theory. It was a kind gesture, far beyond what someone like him deserved to receive.
Snowflake examined his teacher and friend in the light of the sun, and suppressed a shudder. As benign and friendly as Mordai seemed, the [Paladin] had reserves of violence unlike anything Snowflake had expected. If his nightmares weren’t already spoken for, Snowflake might’ve expected to see blades of light casting cruel shadows across demonic features in his dreams.
“You should take the day off and rest today, I reckon,” Mordai said, stifling a small yawn.
Snowflake reached up to touch his opposite shoulder with his maimed hand. He forced himself to acknowledge the itch of his missing fingers and what they meant. With a sigh, he vocalized something he had decided at some point in the night.
“Today, I get myself a cloak.”
It was something he should have done long ago, if only for his peace of mind.
“Oh,” Mordai said, shooting Snowflake a look out of the corner of his eye, then looking away. “Cool.”
Snowflake grimaced, remembering the last time he tried to get a cloak. He turned a baleful eye on Mordai.
“I swear, if you say anything about a cloak being a blanket with a pin…”
“Never!” Mordai held his hand to his chest like an affronted maiden, making an expression filled with mock horror. “Look, I totally get it. Cloaks are hella cozy.”
Alas, the mock horror could not hide the smirk creeping up the side of his face. Snowflake stifled a groan.
“In fact,” Mordai continued, ignoring the scowl on Snowflake’s face with the practiced ease of someone who reveled in such situations.
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“Don’t say it,” Snowflake said, attempting to cut him off.
It only made Mordai speak louder.
“You COULD say, that wearing a cloak is almost as cozy as…”
In that moment, Snowflake understood why Honey hit Mordai so much.
“Wearing a blanket.”
Mordai concluded his joke with a self-amused grin plastered all over his face. Snowflake’s groan was so loud that it woke Nevasca with a start. She glared at the two with her fur and feathers all in a puff. When they ignored her, she settled back down with a disgruntled ‘mrow’. She made sure her back was facing them this time.
”If I thought I could get through your armor, I would hurt you right now.”
Mordai practically preened at Snowflake’s response.
“Words are the weapons of the wise, young squire.”
“I’m going to ask Honey to do it for me.”
“Hey! That’s cheating!”
Snowflake treated Mordai with a smirk of his own.
***
Snowflake walked in the shadow of the Dungeon with a pep in his step. He bit into a meat and vegetable wrap, cooked in an unfamiliar style. The large bite sent sauce dribbling down his chin, but he didn’t mind. To his side, Nevasca sped up just to stop and lay a large paw on his leg. She let out a pitiful ‘mew’ when he turned to look at her.
“You already had two,” he said, speaking around an especially delicious mouthful. The ingredients were layered in such a way that each bite had a slightly different mix of meat, sauce, and vegetables. It was divine. Snowflake suspected there was some sort of Skill at play; talent or superior cooking knowledge at the very least.
She gave him a sorrowful look. Through their bond she pushed her need to eat the rest of it. If he hadn’t watched her devour three rabbits a few hours earlier, he might have been fooled.
“Learn to cook then,” he said, turning back to continue browsing the goods displayed on the street. Some Awakened tried to pay off their debts by selling Dungeon farmed materials, according to Mordai. He hoped that someone would be selling a cloak.
Nevasca ‘mrowed’ again. Snowflake responded to her without thinking.
“Maybe you could take the [Chef] Class.”
He stopped mid stride, considering. After a moment, he murmured to himself.
“Can beasts take Classes?”
A familiar voice answered.
“The Guild [Researchers] think that beasts take a Class that’s the same as their species. They just get better at doing whatever it is they do, like an elf getting Skills to make them a better [Elf]. I hear yours might be a [Mutant] though.”
Snowflake whirled.
“Robert,” he said, his chest feeling tight.
“Snowflake,” Robert said with a small nod.
Snowflake felt that bitter thing in him rise. He could taste it in his mouth.
Robert stood in the middle of the street, dressed for war. Spiked plate metal covered his limbs and chest, with a fine chainmail that looked far too large protecting the rest. A bubble of space formed around him as people sensed trouble. To his side, a great creature snorted a cloud of smoke and pawed at the street with enough force to cause sparks to fly. The bull was black as night, with crimson horns. Its shoulder was even with Robert’s head, and it was wide. So wide that Snowflake doubted it would have fit in that fateful alley.
Robert was a large man, towering over Snowflake, even from a distance, but his companion made him seem small by comparison.
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For a moment, anger and fear threatened to overwhelm Snowflake. He was sorely tempted to feed his rampaging emotions to the Flame. Fighting the urge to give into the easy solution, he pushed the bitter feelings down.
Perhaps on another day he would have jumped at the chance to settle old wrongs. Today he was sick of fighting. Less than 24 hours ago, he had murdered at the behest of the Guild. Today he would find what comfort he could in buying a cloak. That was his goal. He had no time for petty conflict.
Nevertheless, he somehow found himself asking the obvious.
“Why are you here?”
Robert’s companion let out a furious bellow that shook the air. Nevasca returned in kind, hissing a challenge. Neither man moved to calm their familiars.
“I’m here for a debt.” With the creak of metal, Robert clenched his fist. “I answered my mentor’s humiliation with an equal insult, but you… You and yours took someone dear to me; my brother and friend.”
A fevered fury burned in Robert’s eyes. His voice trembled with rage. With visible effort, he tamped the emotions down, regaining control. Snowflake could see it lurking there, just under the surface.
“If he is alive, tell me now and I will spare your life.”
Looking into the face of his hated foe, Snowflake felt some of the hate slip away. This was a man in pain, suffering from a loss and expressing it as anger. That was a feeling Snowflake knew all too well.
“I don’t know. I’m not even sure what you are talking about,” Snowflake said, casting his breakfast away to free up his hands for what was to come. He lowered his voice, trying to speak as calm as possible. “Look, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but it is the truth. I can’t help you, and us fighting isn’t going to change that.”
Snowflake braced himself to receive a headlong charge from the larger man and his familiar, but it never came. Instead, Robert just… sighed. His shoulders slumped like a great weight was resting on them. Snowflake felt the stirrings of hope in his chest. They might be able to reach a peaceful solution and he could get back to shopping.
“Maybe you are telling the truth,” he said, his voice soft. He reached up to rest his hand on the bull’s muscular shoulder. “But… does it really matter? Even if you had nothing to do with it, someone has to pay.”
“Blood price,” Snowflake said, a hollow feeling in his heart.
“I suppose that is one way to put it.” Robert hesitated, as if struggling with something. “I… I consider myself an honorable man, despite everything I did before… Well, before coming here. Since, even. I know you have a Class now, and if a certain report is to be believed, then you’re even pretty scrappy in a fight these days.”
Robert began to grow. It was nothing like what Snowflake had seen Dave do. Instead of swelling with uncontained might and rage, Robert became more. Runes etched into his armor glowed as it expanded to compliment his new size. Now, his bull was closer to waist height compared to him.
The [Mark of the Jotunn] branded into Snowflake’s skin began to itch. He reached up to his face to touch it and found that it was cold to the touch, like ice.
“But as much as I wish I could spare you...” Robert’s voice was booming now. The force behind his words had not changed, but now lungs like bellows delivered them. “For my friend, I must demand justice. For the sake of honor, I will fight you with everything I have, without holding back.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Snowflake saw Nevasca’s lashing tail leaving great gouges in the stone beneath them. He laid his hand on her head, sending her feelings of affection. She responded with unbridled excitement. Snowflake found himself chuckling in agreement.
The last time he checked, Angosin claimed that Robert was around level 12 and a [Brawler]. Sure, it was a few weeks ago, but Dave and his ilk were known for picking fights in bars to level instead of searching for true challenges. Size did not equal might and for the first time, Snowflake would be fighting for his life against an equal.
“I understand,” Snowflake said, sinking into a more balanced stance and raising his hands into a familiar guard position. The itch on his face turned into a burning throb, but he ignored it. He reached for the Source contained in his Monster Core, and it responded like a living thing.
Source flowed through his veins, clawing toward every cell in his body. On contact, it transformed into chemical energy, strengthening the very bonds that held his being together. In the back of his mind, Snowflake marveled at how he used to put so much effort into ‘Reinforcing’ himself. Now, it was as easy as breathing.
“Good. I was half afraid you would try to run again. Hunting you down would have been a waste of all that training,” Robert said, straightening his shoulders. The street seemed much smaller now, especially with the way his voice seemed to echo off the buildings. Robert changed the pitch of his voice. It became deeper, resonant. “I, Robert Giantskin, accuse you, Snowflake, of playing a part in the loathsome murder of Raarik, my blooded brother. By the [Giant’s Bloodline] in my veins, I challenge you to prove your innocence in the way of my ancestors.”
By context clues, Snowflake suspected that Robert may not be as much of a pushover has had briefly suspected. It was a safe bet that Robert’s Unique Skill had to do with becoming more giant-like. Regardless, he was growing bored of the speeches and posturing. Robert had beaten him in an alley and had now come to murder him in the street. Talks of honor rang hollow to Snowflake’s ears.
So, he tuned Robert out. Instead, he focused his Source inward and tightened his stance with the small nudges from [Unarmed Combat: Basic]. He shifted his weight on the balls of his feet, preparing to move in any direction.
“’Till we be crushed of bone and torn of limb.” Robert roared now, the resonant bass in his voice reverberating in Snowflake’s chest. The world seemed to shake. “Justice be for them that lacks a skull’s grin.”
Snowflake roared back, a wordless scream of defiance.
Robert took a single, massive step forward and covered half the distance between them. His familiar charged, lowering its horns and taking a crescent shaped path toward Snowflake. Looking to skewer him from the side no doubt.
Robert reached back, his arms far too long for the rest of his body. The metal spikes adorning his knuckles had grown to the size of spear heads. He swung, a wide sweeping blow, coming at Snowflake from the opposite side of his familiar’s charge.
Trusting Nevasca to handle herself, Snowflake reacted with all the speed [Explosive Movement] could grant him. He took two steps forward in a burst of motion. Time seemed to slow as he lowered his center of mass and brought his arms back. He forced Source into [Explosive Movement], channeling it in the same way he had earned his lost skill, [Explosive Leap].
A vicious smile tugged at the corner of Snowflake’s lips as he launched himself forward, extending his body like a coiled spring. His outstretched hands latched around the back of Robert’s head, catching him in a clinch. The three fingers of his maimed hand struggled to hold tight, but he kept his grip. Only just. With the same motion, using as much strength as he could muster, Snowflake pulled. He used his whole body to yank Robert’s startled face toward his knee.
The crunch it made on contact was a thousand times more satisfying than the last time Snowflake had kneed Robert in the face.
Through his knee, Snowflake layered a [Power Strike] and [Reverberating Strike] together. The Skills ripped through him, causing a secondary impact against Robert’s face. In response to the devastating impact of the kinetic energy the Skills unleashed, blood sprayed. Robert howled with such force that something in Snowflake’s ear gave way, yanking his head back with enough force to break Snowflake’s grip.
Pressure pushed at Snowflake from the side. The wind created by displace air tugged at his clothes. Milliseconds later, Snowflake learned a valuable lesson about jumping at an opponent.
It was difficult to dodge in midair.
Robert’s open palm smashed Snowflake from the side, sending him flying through the air. He slammed into the side of a building. Something in Snowflake’s chest cracked. His first deep breath resulted in a sharp pain, but this was a familiar pain now.
What hurt worse was the sting of regret. If he still had [Sturdy Bones], or even [Troll’s Physique]…
Snowflake pushed himself to his feet and dismissed those thoughts from his mind the best he could. It was hard without sacrificing them to the Flame. Nonetheless, there was no point in getting weighed down by the problem when he could be focusing on the solution. At least, that’s what Mordai told him.
He did his best to replicate the effects of [Rapid Recovery] with chemical energy as he danced away from where he landed. Robert’s giant fist missed him by a handbreadth. Snowflake retaliated with a vicious hook to the offending limb, aiming for the tendons and small bones in the wrist.
He let out a sharp breath with the strike, just like Honey taught him. It hurt his chest, but it was a dull ache now. His control over chemical energy was a far cry from the effects of [Rapid Recovery], but it helped.
In his Soulspace, [Mark of the Jotunn] stirred.
With a thunderous roar, Robert ripped his arm sideways, tearing through the stone wall to hit Snowflake. His enlarged forearm made contact with Snowflake’s own, which he had raised in a guard position. [Savage Defense] activated, reflecting some of the kinetic energy back at Robert.
It was not enough to keep the blow from lifting Snowflake off his feet. For the second time in a matter of moments, Snowflake found himself flying.
As he tumbled through the air, Snowflake caught a glimpse of Nevasca tearing into Robert’s bull. Her claws sank into the bull’s face while her tail wrapped around its throat to keep it from tossing her off. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest. Then, he hit the ground.
Snowflake kept his limbs tucked in as he spun. The hard, paved street rose to meet him several times before he slowed to a stop. A loud sound, the clearing of a throat, caused him to look up from his position on the ground.
Robert stood in a familiar pose almost twenty feet away. His arm was raised, with a single finger pointing at Snowflake and his thumb pointing toward the sky. Snowflake stared at his unmoving opponent, racking his mind. Where did he know that stance from?
Robert stood there, as if waiting for something. When it did not come, he lowered his thumb.
With sudden realization, Snowflake threw himself to the side. [Explosive Movement] allowed him to release bursts of kinetic energy from his hands and knees to aid in his escape.
He was not fast enough.
The bullet caught him in the shoulder, spinning him back to the ground. His arm felt like it was on fire. Something inside his shoulder ground against something else when he moved. The sickening wrongness of the bones scraping against each other was almost worse than the pain. If he survived, we would need a [Healer’s] aid.
It would be more debt to his name. More blood on his hands.
He sprung to his feet and prepared to charge forward in a zig-zag pattern to confuse Robert’s aim. The pain was like a distant buzz in the back of his mind. He knew what he had to do. Pain would not stop him.
Deep in his Soulspace, [Tenacity] devoured a steady stream of Source.
Snowflake rushed forward. Robert’s hand jerked again. Snowflake dropped to the ground, maintaining his momentum with a roll. Before he reached the ground, a bullet buzzed through the space where his head had been. It was close enough for Snowflake to feel the wind on his face.
Robert’s exaggerated features displayed an expression of confusion and perhaps a touch of concern.
Snowflake did not notice. He was busy thanking his lucky stars that Robert’s bullets were not giant-sized. With the same breath, he cursed himself for not taking the time to learn the [Bullet] Spell. Or, any Spell, really.
A sense of shame welled within him. He had spent his life as a mage but had yet to master the basic magics here. Even a [Brawler] had a better grasp on it than him. He thought that he could match the Awakened. No, he thought he could do more than they could in half the time.
Arrogance would get him killed. Snowflake was no high-level [Body Enhancer], with skin like steel and bones of diamond. Not yet.
He grit his teeth and charged forward, straining to push Source into [Explosive Movement] as fast as possible. The Skill imbues his every step with an explosion of kinetic energy, leaving small craters and clouds of dust in his wake. Twenty feet disappeared in a flash.
First he would deal with Robert. Then he would buy a cloak. After that, the mysteries of magic would be his to unravel.
Easy.
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8 1615Hazardous Debugging: Reanimation
Once upon a time, there lived an ordinary man. He lived among us, maybe some of you even knew him. And then he died. Explosive rounds shot to the chest aren't very good for your health. His body was buried, his brain preserved. Three centuries have passed. Our descendants discovered the old refrigerator with the brains of their ancestors, took our hero out of the ice, digitizing his persona, and implanting him into a videogame.Little did they know that they fulfilled the terms of a contract to their demise. Because Fillin doesn't intend to spend an eternity in this digital playground even if though there's no difference from the real world.But the only way he can return to reality is to become God in the game. And so our hero sets foot on the Path of the Gods, ignoring the facts that he is followed by a walking nightmare named FreakHead, that the skies mock his every step and that anyone who looks upon him sees the title "Bringer of Chaos."
8 364Heroes Die First
It was after World War Two ended; rumors spread of people wielding amazing powers or mutating into horrifying monsters. Seventy years later, heroes and villains dominate the news and battle in the streets, discrimination drives mutants into the criminal lifestyle, and the governments of the world are struggling to handle the rapidly shifting paradigm. Maxmillian Grants, like any sixteen year old boy, wants to be a hero and he has a secret: he has the power to do it! Except, when he actually looks into the risks and the rewards he discovers that being a hero is not really worth it. Being a villain, on the other hand, certainly pays well. If you don't mind risking being sent to prison and being hunted by heroes and other villains. Max, not being an idiot, does mind both of those things. Instead of being a hero or being a villain, Max decides to take the third option, to be a vigilante! His plan? To hit the criminals in the gut and run off with their money, making the world a bit brighter at the same time by taking down the bad guys. But how long can he actually manage alone? Can he really navigate through the dangerous world of supers and capes without declaring for either heroes or villains? Or will he be sucked into the web of plots and drama that is the life of those with superpowers? (Cover photo by Sebastiaan Stam, downloaded from Unsplash)
8 139Lancastre Academy
Parker Gray leads a normal, home-schooled life. Or so he thinks. He begins noticing some odd things happening around the house and then hears his parents talking about him behind his back. Before he knows it, he's being shipped off to a boarding school he's never heard of and won't be able to come home for six years. Right as he starts to accept this, his parents drop him off at an abandoned subway station that is supposed to take him to this new school. The next thing he knows, Parker is being led into a world he didn't know even existed right alongside him. He learns amazing new things about himself and that someone he doesn't know has been keeping an eye on him. I am still in the process of writing book 4 and doing some editing. It will begin posting in the near future.
8 105RESCUED AND RISEN
Becoming a stripper or taking part in what most people would term as 'prostitution' was never my dream. Becoming a hooked drug addict was never part of my future plans either. I had always been another normal ambitious teenager with a dream to have a top class job with a huge office on the 30th floor, but all that dream faded and life became a nightmare when I was sold to a drug dealer by my drug addict stepfather, months after mom's illness. The money my stepfather got supposedly kept him high but for me it became more than just being high. My life consisted of abuse, alcohol, drugs,poles and men. I wasn't given a choice to do otherwise, well not until I was rescued or more like pitied and not being killed when my boss and his men were taken out by one of the guy I was sent to seduced that same night. Who is this guy? Well I'm about to find out when I regain consciousness.This is the third book in the mafia trilogy.1.Daddy's Little Assassin2.Caught In The Middle3.Rescued&Risen**
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