Things weren’t going well.

Things were definitely not going well.

Casper was on his back at the end of the hall, gripping onto a vine to pull himself up, fightinhg against the pain. His scrawny hand clutched at his chest. With a limp, still using the wall as leverage, he went to pick up his gun, gripping the weapon tight. From the light at the end of the hall, he could see the room he was sent away from.

Rakkan was barely able to stand on his bloodied feet, but standing he was, defiant to the end.

Cho on the other hand was in considerably worse condition, lying on the ground in the center of the room, not moving at all. His arm was broken in several places, from his it was bent and twisted. Above him, loomed the Artist.

The Artist then placed both of its hands to each side of Cho and then, from its rectangular mouth face, began to breath a thick lavender mist upon him. A mist that began to fill the room and creep down the hall, causing Casper to step away from it. The Sowing process had begun. In just a few minutes, maybe seconds, Cho’s body would be turned into a Jinmenju; the mist would seep into his wounds, accelerating the Arborpathy that coursed through him. As would Rakkan once the Artist would turn his attention to him.

Casper only stood there and watched. Repeating a mantra, over and over.

“It’s okay…” he muttered to himself, through clenched teeth. His mind was a sweat soaked haze. “It will be alright… Yeah… Just alright.” The Amalgamate was distracted and was far too big to fit into the hall, he had the perfect escape opportunity. All he had to do was to go find the kid they came to get here and get the hell out. Rakkan would be fine. He was a strong guy. This was probably no big deal for him. Cho… Acceptable losses. “It will be… Alright.” Casper repeated. He’d even find Terminus himself. It was a big place. Cho and Rakkan? They weren’t required. Casper, putting his mask back on, turned his back on the violence, frantically repeating the same words over and over, as if to calm himself. As if to make peace with his selfishness. He was on his way to Terminus.

There, barely visible in the darkness, was a small figure, staring at him. For a brief moment, he mistook them for someone else…

Back in the planetareum, Rakkan watched as Cho was helpless at the hands of the Amalgamate. He wasn’t going to just stand by, silently telling Cho to get back up, cowering. Rakkan stepped forward and grinned. One would wonder if he even felt pain, with how he forced himself to move in his damaged state. “Oi! Artist! Me first!” Rakkan used the blood coating his hands to paint a giant red X onto his chest, a nice target for his opponent. He smacked the X with his fist, letting out a battle cry, “Oooooryah!”

The monster wasn’t invulnerable to taunting. He snapped its vision up from his current target, stopping the Sowing process; although a little bit of mist was still pouring from its mouth. Always quick to retaliate, it hissed, and bounded forward, and lifted its hand to crush Rakkan.

The Lion, arms spread, was prepped to take the attack head on.

But, before the blow could be struck, three shots rang out from down the hall. Three lights latched onto the side of the Amalgamate’s head, causing it to flinch, but not visibly damaging it. The monster froze, more confused than anything, stopped its attack.

Rakkan too looked a bit confused too.

Then, the sound of snapping fingers was heard. In a brilliant burst of light, the three lights clinging to the Amalgamate exploded, each in quick succession. A powerful explosion of magic, with force strong enough to not only dislodge several of the Amalgamate’s teeth, which clattered to the floor, but also knock it to its side. Screeching, it was only down for a moment, rolling on its side and getting back up, switching back to a quadruped stance. Its full attention was now focused at the dark hall was, where the attack came from.

Rakkan let out a hearty laugh, before wincing in pain. As he wiped a streak of blood from his lip, he grinned, looking to the same place the Artist was looking. “Knew you weren’t dead. But you had me scarred there.”

Limping back, out of the hall, with his gun in hand, was Casper. His other hand shined with a mixture of pink and gold magic. “Alright… Let’s end this.” He growled, aiming at the Artist. “I won’t die so easily, not yet!”

The Artist snarled and dug its claws into the ground.

“You can’t understand me, can you? I don’t care. You’re not leaving this place!” He was not going to run away. He was not going to let anyone around him die. Most of all, he was not going to lose. Not again! “Cho! Rakkan! We’re going to Terminus!”

The Artist was already following up on Casper’s attack. Gripping a pile of rubble in his claws, it jumped into the air, ready to crush Casper with the improvised weapon.

But, as it flew through the air, Casper took aim and shot three gold blasts at the Amalgamate. All three hitting it square in the chest. Yet, just as last time, left no visible damage, only three glowing spots on the monster’s chest. Before the monster’s attack could hit, Casper jumped back, dodging the initial strike, also making sure to set up a forcefield in front of himself, to prevent any shrapnel from hitting him.

The Amalgamate quickly stood back up and went in for a stomp, using its full body weight as a weapon against the Sphynx.

The attack, while dodged, landed far too close to Casper for his liking. The mere force of it landing right next to him was enough to knock Casper’s balance off. His legs wobbling and the ground shifting! The monster was already going for another stomp, an instant kill if allowed to hit. But, Casper wasn’t going to let that happen.

Casper quickly snapped the fingers on his left hand. Then, just like last time, one by one, fast enough that they appeared to go off all at once, the lights on the Amalgamate’s chest detonated. A powerful burst of light that illuminated the whole room.

Casper grinned as he watched the Amalgamate stumble away, falling flat on its back. “Delayed Shot.” He said, giving the name he dubbed the attack. He aimed once more with his right hand, ready to snap with his left. He fired, the shot hitting the Artist directly in its mouth. “You’re not the person you use to be, you’re no different than any other Amalgamate! But I don’t care!”

Snap!

The shot exploded once more, destroying most of the Artist’s head, completely gibbing it. Casper shouted back, brow furrowed, voice laced with seething anger. “But this is for the children! The three you killed and the one you kidnapped! Kids you killed before they had a chance to live their lives!” He shouted, even as the headless Amalgamate sat there, motionless. “Are you watching, kid? Watch and learn…” He fired again, then again, then again, wanting to destroy all traces of the abomination.

Then, the Amalgamte rolled forward in an awkward somersault, the stump of its neck spraying a lavender blood. The roll brought it just close enough to strike Casper with a clumsy but brutal backhand, smacking the cat to the side. All the Delayed Shots on the monster disappeared.

“How?!” Casper cursed, the second time the Artist caught him off guard by pretending to be dead. Hobbling across the rough ground, he was quick to get back up, but was left coughing and gagging. The sharp pain in his chest spiked. Through his pained coughing, he took aim at the monster, trying to keep his gun steady in his hand. “Die already!” He said, shooting several normal shots at the Artist, each of them doing little damage.

As the Amalgamate lumbered forward, blindly, all of its various wounds oozing a purple slime, it clasped its hands together. Ready to crush Casper, it wasn’t even bothered by all the shooting. Despite all his bravado earlier, Casper’s second wind was slowly fading away, losing the strength to dodge another attack. The Artist, a beast of overwhelming strength and speed. Casper kept aiming, kept shooting. If he was going to die, he would do it fighting back.

But, Rakkan was not going to let his friend die so soon. Casper promised that they would make it to Terminus, at least he implied it, and Rakkan would never let a promise go unfulfilled. Breaking into a sprint, the Lion came up from behind the monster and delivered a powerful tackle to the Artist’s right leg. The impact of the tackle rang out strongly, accompanied by the cracking sound of the Artist’s leg scales as they shattered. Its legs buckled and its attack was interrupted, giving Casper ample time to get out of range. “Casper!” Rakkan shouted, “Let’s finish this! For Cho!”

The Artist stumbled around, swinging its tail back and forth. Despite not having eyes to begin with, its loss of a head seemed to have blinded it. But, before any attacks could land, a third party rejoined the fight. Floating there, above the Artist’s head, were three large spikes, each pointed in a different direction, as they flipped and span in place. Then, one by one, the three of them shot down with great speed, piercing the Artist. The first piercing its leg where Rakkan had struck. The second piercing through its arm where Casper had shot it. Then, the last one, piercing through the stump of its neck. More and more purple blood poured from the Artist’s mutilated body. Then, finally, it fell down once more, falling on the spot where Casper was earlier; as the Sphynx watched it fall, the first thing on his mind wasn’t who delivered the attack, but instead all he could think of was how stupid it would be if he died by the defeated monster falling on him.

But, as for who was controlling the spikes: It was none other than Cho, back standing on his two feet once more. Directly in the air behind him were five large spikes; like a cape made of giant needles, identical to the bolts his crossbow used. The first thing he said to the pair now that he was back up: “What do you mean ‘Let’s do this for Cho?!’ You thought I was dead didn’t you?!”

“Yes.” Rakkan and Casper said in unison, both of them had their focus divided between the fallan Amalgamate and the angry effeminate Fox, “But we’re both glad you’re alive! Right Casper!” Rakkan said, reassuringly.

“Can I lie and say yes?” Casper said, coughing, not sure if his comment was in jest or not.

Pinching the bridge of his mask, Cho shook his head. Alright, it was time to end this, this time he was going to make sure the Amalgamate was 100 percent dead. No more surprises. He hopped up on the Amalgamate’s back, unharmed by the sharp spikes due to having the decency to wear thick soled shoes. With a few simple hand motions, he commanded the five spikes floating around him. Each spike primed themselves, hovering over the large fleshy spot in the monster’s back where Rakkan’s fist had so strongly punched; looks like his injuries weren’t for naught. Each spike began to spike, rotating around each other, faster and faster, until they all looked like one object instead of five. Weakly, the Artist began to get back up… Then, the spinning spikes came down on the fleshy spot, drilling into its, spraying a fountain of purple blood all over the floor and onto Cho.

The Artist, with no mouth to scream, struggled against the attack, but Cho kept up his assault. The Artist’s wounds were far too great.

All throughout the drilling, Cho was completely quiet, holding his hand out, only making a few motions with his fingers as the spike drill spun and spun.

The third class of magic. The power to conjure and manipulate physical materials. Solids of various densities, liquids, and even gritty material like sand. To create a weapon to use in combat, to create armor to protect ones self, to create ammo for a ballistic weapon, or even more crafty means, like the manipulation of the battlefield. Conjurations that could be manipulated without touching them, then at the end of the fight, to disappear into nothingness. The magic that Cho was versed in: One of the Four schools of magic: Armament!

Then, with a bit more force, the spike drills burst out of the Amalgamate’s front, fully drilling a gruesome hole through its torso. The Artist made a gurgling noise from the hole in its neck, still trying to fight back, then went still. Finally, it fell to the floor in a heap, Cho was still perfectly balanced upon its back, even with his destroyed left arm, he was perfectly calm.

A long, hard fought battle. The sun was beginning to set, making way for night. Each combatants had received enough wounds to last them the weekend. Each of them beaten down and dragged through the mud, they had taken the victory and hand, fighting tooth and nail, baring broken bones and torn flesh. The Artist was dead!

Casper now turned his attention to Cho, who had yet to even make a cry of pain despite his injuries, “So… Anyways. To answer you question from earlier.” He coughed into his hand, a painful, but short fit, staring at his palm, he continued. “Let’s just agree… If you don’t ask who I am, I won’t ask what you are.” His palm was bloody… That couldn’t be good.

“Agreed.” Cho nodded, kneeling down, silently working on his damaged arm, seeing if he could set it back into place. The Artist’s body was slowly crumbling into dust as the three had their chance to recuperate.

Casper, wiping his coughed up blood onto his shoulder, he strained himself to shout to the exit. “Hey! You can come out now. It’s alright.”

A small peep was heard. There, walking into view, was the one they came here for. It was the young Wyvern girl who Casper met just a few days ago. Her black and red scales as vibrant as ever; even more vibrant, was how she stared at the three. A great sense of fascination, witnessing the slayers of her captor. But, behind that sense of awe, there was something else. Teary eyes, trembling clapsed together hands… One could only imagine all the death and chaos she had witnessed while being held in the grasp of the Artist.

Casper moved to the back of the room, holding his chest. “She… Escaped him and was hiding. Guess the Amalgamate was searching for her when she found us. She kept me going.”

The first of the trio to approach her was Rakkan, who despite his large size and strength, walked with incredible gentleness. For once, he didn’t shout. “Hey, it’s alright… I’m moving closer now… If you are afraid, I’ll stop. Monster is dead.” He knelt down in front of her, still taller than her. “…Let’s go home?”

The young girl reached her breaking point, and hugged the Lion, crying into his chest. He patted her on the back.

The people who died this day. The people who died long ago. They could not be brought back. This was the mark the Artist left on the world, as both a Qestian and an Amalgamate. It could never be undone. But, it was here, as the four got ready to go back to Tracks, they were reminded of what was most important in this destroyed, tree covered world.

The present. They were alive. Together in pain. Together in glory.

This is Qest.