Chapter 16

The Tempest

“You look different.” Winifred’s remark on his disposition didn’t change the grin on Terrill’s face. His body was electric, ready for the clash he knew was coming, the second she decided to move. It was nothing more than a matter of time. “Like your time down in the mines changed you. What did you find down there?”

“I’m sure you have an idea,” Terrill said. His blade drew back, set to thrust at any moment. Behind Winifred, the pirates were groaning in recovery from her sudden intervention. Krysta, too, looked winded, glaring with venom at the windy woman opposite her. “You planned it that way, didn’t you? Dropped the hints about the mines, made sure to point me in that direction, knowing full well I’d go. All to set up your little ambush.”

“Mm, close, Mr. Hero.” Winifred held a finger to her lips, her cloak billowing about to issue her command of secrecy. Terrill knew she was coiled to strike. “Any hero would have done, but you were the easiest string to pull. He said you would be.”

“He? Do you mean Clay?” The snicker came next, and Terrill knew he was off-base with that latest guess. “No. Someone else, then. Not a pirate, but another one of your Fiend buddies, clearly in service of this war.”

“How badly do you want to know?”

“Let me guess: beat it out of you.”

Her grin was an invitation to that, her gale stirring up. Krysta grunted, trying to prevent herself from being blown back down the stairs. The pirates were less fortunate, caught in their captain’s turbulence with great displeasure.

“Captain Winifred, what are you doing?” one of them yelled, his voice warbling between multiple octaves in his question.

“Hey, someone get the doc!”

“We don’t have a doc, idiot!”

“It was her!” what sounded like the man named Brian yelled. “It was the captain what blown us about. She’s turned against us.”

“Oh, stay out of it!” Winifred’s snap was accompanied by bellowing winds that ripped along the corridor. Some of it funneled into the mess hall, tossing all tables and chairs against the wall into splinters. Some of the ceiling cracked and trickled downward. Many of the pirates were tossed out to the harbor, but some yet remained to see Terrill instigate the fight at last.

Winifred’s war cry was heard loud and clear.

His body jumped through the wind and Terrill slashed down. She pivoted her body to the side, avoiding the strike before he gave a horizontal slash. Winifred’s hand flew out, the pocket of wind trapping his sword, but he wasn’t letting it catch him this time. Terrill’s fist swung out, making contact with her face for the first time and sending her into the nearest wall. She righted herself before she could make impact, and shot for him, wind propelling her steps forward.

“Not bad at all!” The wind preceding her became claws that ripped through the air. Terrill blocked as best as he could, though her other claw was making its way for him, forming shallow cuts on his shoulder.

“Spire!” Terrill shouted, gathering the energy he could to stomp and send a spike of stone roaring upwards. It caught Winifred in the chest, catapulting her body upward. The grin never left, and as she spiraled, winds were tossed haphazardly through the hall. She used those winds to right herself and descended with a kick lined in a tornado.

“Barrier!” Krysta’s assist was well-timed, the honeycomb shield forming between the combatants. Winifred’s strike damaged Krysta’s shield, but did not break it. Terrill made his move.

He bent low, tapping his hand once to the ground. There was minimal time to concentrate, but he put all his efforts into raising the ground before him, creating steps that could bring him above Winifred’s level. Nimbly he leapt up them, gaining air over her. He jumped, and gave a screaming strike downward.

To block, the woman crossed her arms, laced with the cyclones she was apt at forming. They only stopped the brunt of his blow, and he could feel himself working through the wind, his sword rattling with every tiny bit gained. “Krysta!”

“Yeah!” She had joined the battle, her rapier drawing a circle of light in the air, shining with all of its radiance. The circle hung there, a great magical crest that was filled in with burgeoning light. With a thrust, she fired the blast of light through the hall, set to consume Winifred and the pirates both.

“Tag teams are annoying.” Terrill knew it wouldn’t do the trick, but Krysta’s attack helped him to leap off, joining her back on the ground. A crescent of wind suddenly slashed the air between the two, cleaving the power of light in two. Krysta’s attack yet continued, exploding against the ramshackle walls. The pirates screamed, their fear justified when planks of wood began to tumble upon them. Flames sparked, too, and it made Winifred look all the more menacing as the first floor started to burn. She didn’t even sweat. “And you two make an annoying tag team.”

“Glad to cause you trouble. You’re not starting a war between the pirates and Serotin. We’ll put a stop to it before then.” Terrill and Krysta brandished their weapons, inviting Winifred to engage with them, but she gave a full-throated laugh. It served only to make her face more distorted with sadistic glee.

“There’s no stopping war! There’s no stopping death and destruction!” She moved fast, appearing before Terrill had his chance to blink. Her fist sunk into his gut, becoming a lance of wind that blew him backwards. His mind reacted, calling on the earth to slow him, creating a small step for him to bounce back in. “How did you think this would end, Terrill Jacobs? That you’d return home with your friends after saving everyone? Not gonna happen! You’re in the Devil’s Haven, and even if these pirates are as effective as a defanged hound, you’ve already stared into the abyss! This isn’t-”

“This isn’t the world I remember, is that it?” Terrill’s sword and Winifred’s lances of wind met, each straining against the other until, at long last, Terrill cut through and dispelled the wind. His muscles ached, but Terrill took satisfaction in the accomplishment, sweat dripping from every pore of his body. He laughed, a short one that made Winifred glower as they heard the pirates screaming for water. “Yeah, I know all about that. You made sure of it, just like the mines. You took us away the second we killed Golbrucht, but I remember that we passed through a portal of sorts, just like you do when you vanish. Is that what it is? Passing between the two worlds?

“Well, guess what, none of that matters! If this is the world I remember, or just some bizarre copy I know nothing about… Even if it’s just a staging ground for you and your Fiends to play their little games and run their experiments, I don’t care! These people are still people! And everything I do will cut a path to home and protect it from Fiends like you in the process! I won’t let those of this world kill each other for no good reason, especially not with someone as vile as you pulling the strings. I won’t let you have your way!”

With a cry, Terrill jumped up into the air, and crashed his sword down upon the stone floor. Fangs of earth rose up, careening for Winifred as she scowled at his assertions. Before they reached her, a hand flicked out, breaking the spell. She never lost sight of him dashing through her wind, set to strike her down with a single thrust. Her next slash was corporeal, the blade of wind threatening to bisect Terrill if he didn’t dodge it. He jabbed forward, meeting the wind head-on. Some of the pirates watched, but screamed as the conflagration began to spread to the second level of the fortress. The air pulsed, and both Terrill and Winifred’s scowls matched one another.

“You came to grips with that quick. I’m not sure if it’s foolish altruism or just not having a true grasp on this world. Either way, thinking you know everything is just naivete. It will get you killed, just like everyone who played hero before you. I thought I taught you that lesson in the harbor!”

“You can teach me that lesson time and time again, but I won’t relent!” Terrill took a forceful step through the gale, gaining just a tiny bit of ground on Winifred. His sword was flattening, straining against the storm she was creating. Outside, another peal of thunder sounded out, as though their clash worsened that which LeBrandon made. “I’m done seeing people die because of people like you and Golbrucht, who care nothing for the lives of others. I’m a Guardian that lives to protect others! Whatever that means, heroes, Fiends, different worlds, fake memories, naivete and everything that comes with it, none of it matters! I’ll take it all if it means I can do that one thing.”

“Oh yeah?” The wind stopped, allowing Terrill’s blade to cut through and embed itself in Winifred’s shoulder. She was done playing. “I hate people like you.”

Her leg whipped out, colliding with Terrill’s chest. He felt like there were a thousand weights sitting on it, the gutting wind whirling as if it would mince him to pieces. He screamed, but held his ground, digging his sword deep until he began to see something dripping from her wound. Not blood, but something else he could not keep his focus on. It was a war of attrition, and Terrill was afraid he’d lose first.

He would have, if it wasn’t for Krysta giving a great cry and plunging her rapier into Winifred’s exposed side. There were tears in the girl’s eyes, as though Winifred’s callous remarks about hating his kind had wounded her. The Fiend had little to do with her, but she ceased her attack on Terrill to blast her away, on to the spiral stairs leading upwards. They cracked and groaned under her weight.

Terrill withdrew his sword as Winifred turned her loathing gaze upon him.

“People who put everyone before themselves, but never think about the people they’re hurting in the meantime. People who want to play hero. People who throw away their lives because it’s something fate demanded of them! I hate all of you!” Her wind intensified. Whatever pirates were left in the hall were sent out to the ocean. The flames rose higher, and Terrill began to believe he was seeing what a Fiend truly looked like for the first time. It was for nothing more than a brief moment, but her fingers became true claws, like talons, and her face was disfigured by the streams of green wind that covered the hall. “You want to play hero, Terrill Jacobs, go right ahead. You want to think you can protect this world or any other, fine. If that’s so, then we’ll have no choice but the let that little prophecy play out between you and the Shadow King. I know how much he’s longing to see you again.”

“What prophecy?! What Shadow King?!” Terrill ignored the smarting pain in his chest, whipping his blade to the side. Every breeze was making his efforts to stand all the more difficult, as though Winifred had made them into a million tiny blades that passed through his body with every breath. She lifted off the ground, her mastery over the winds returning, the heat helping to raise her ever higher.

“Who knows? I still don’t believe the prophecy exists, or it could just be a lie,” Winifred answered with a shrug. Her wicked wind didn’t cease, and she didn’t soften at all, but Terrill could see the myriad of emotions that played behind her eyes. There was no conflict of what she was doing, just someone resigned. Her hatred, however, was truly genuine…and from experience. “Whether the prophecy is real or not is irrelevant. In truth, its claims of greatness formed from death and war are just tools to use in fomenting more conflict and chaos across the land until it’s stained with shadow.”

“No kind of prosperity is born from war and death!” Terrill made another step of stone to launch him upwards. This time, he couldn’t even get close before she sent another gust that sent him crashing into the ground. Before he could stand, flaming wooden planks fell upon his body from the upper floor, causing him to choke on the ash. His body groaned with the effort of pushing it off of him.

“Of course, it is… A world where we’re all free. Isn’t that what any of us want?”

“Then you and I have very different ideas of freedom!” Terrill dropped to a knee, leveling his nastiest glare at the callous woman. All of his magical energies gathered inside him, looking for a single point of earth he could use to make it easier. He found it, set against where the stairs to the dungeons were. His mind focused there, and he could feel it shifting and moving. “Because I’ll never believe freedom is won through pointless death. I believe it’s only by protecting anyone and everyone, getting stronger, and smashing Fiends like you out of the sky!”

His body burst with magical energy that arced through the floor and up to the point in the wall he’d found. The column formed and shot out for Winifred’s unsuspecting figure. She had no time to block it and it struck her, flinging her into the fire. The storm crashed and thundered once again. Terrill attempted a grin, but refused to let it stay. The woman wouldn’t stay down for just that.

He was proven right when the flames parted, and Winifred stepped through. Some of her skin was burnt, but her cloak had taken the most damage. She flung it aside, and Terrill could fully see how lithe and imposing she was, bedecked in form-fitting gear that seemed to support her windy movements.

“Keep on protecting. It won’t stop what’s begun. We’ve already started here, at Devil’s Haven.”

“I already told you, we’re going to stop this wa-”

“Who said anything about a war? Maybe you need to open your eyes to reality, boy!” Her eyes flashed with all the malice she could muster, and Terrill knew what was coming next. He had seen it before, only he knew this one wasn’t some slow-moving test, but an attack with a very specific purpose: to destroy him.

Winifred’s hands clasped together, and when she separated them, the cyclone appeared, taller and faster than before. Terrill dug his feet into the churned-up floor, hoping it would give him the purchase he needed to remain grounded. Krysta, too, had brought up a shield to hold off the incoming blow. Walls were ripped down, rain poured through, and the stairs behind Krysta were demolished, falling upon her head.

When the nexus of the vortex was upon them, there became little else they could do.

The force of its winds was too much to endure, and no matter how hard Terrill attempted to stay rooted, it was all in vain. The cyclone picked him and Krysta up, stealing their breaths away as they began to batter into one another, ascending for the top of the fortress as the twister ripped through the wooden construct. Winifred had taken no glee, as she spoke not a single word, and only watched as the two were tossed out of the top of the cyclone and into the night air, where rain and lightning crashed around the Devil’s Haven.

Krysta was quicker to fall, and Terrill reached for her, trying to grab her, despite knowing he would meet the same fate. She reached for him, as well, their hands joining as they plummeted towards the roof of the pirates’ base, where the bonfire had been snuffed out by the storm, leaving naught but cinders and a tied up Rainert family. Someone else was there, too, heaving with ragged breaths as he was surrounded by at least ten pirates. His eyes traveled upwards to see them, and in that moment, the rain slowed.

No words were needed for Floyd. His goal was right in front of him, Terrill could see that. But in that one, impossible moment, the boy made a decision. Perhaps it had to do with the ascending wind that heralded Winifred’s arrival, or maybe it was the burning fortress below, and the darkness that had come to surround it. He couldn’t say.

But he knew Floyd reached out for them, just enough for Terrill and Krysta to have time to save themselves. He squeezed her hand. Both stretched out, as though they could grasp Floyd’s, but instead prepared their magic. From the wooden roof came a taller platform of stone, and atop it was a barrier shaped like a bowl. They hit it, sliding off and tumbling across the roof.

Terrill’s sword spun from his hand, landing behind him while he rolled and fell on his stomach, staring through the night storm over the southern plains. The torches had not diminished.

“You guys got up here fast!” Floyd commented. A shout issued from behind him, and the redhead kicked the pirate back. Krysta groaned in acknowledgement, letting Floyd begin running towards where Torry and her father were tied up to a metal pole. Terrill was surprised they weren’t fried yet. “Can’t say I’m complaining, though. Help is always welcome.”

“Floyd, why are you here?” Torry shouted, and the clanking of chains indicated she was trying to break free. “This isn’t the place for you to be. The soldiers could-”

“It’s not safe. Mr. Jacobs, not for you either,” her father interrupted. He was stressing how much they needed to leave, but Terrill wouldn’t.

In this case, it wasn’t by choice.

Winifred had appeared, and with vindictive purpose, she landed atop Terrill, slamming his head into the breaking wood. The clatter of footsteps to the side indicated that she was not the last to join the party. Winifred pushed down further, pinning Terrill and making him unable to move.

“Why would you bemoan his help?” she mocked. Terrill cried out in pain, and heard his name shouted, as well. “He’s here for you, Mr. Mayor. He can’t help but play the hero! He can’t help but throw himself into an impossible situation he knows he can’t win because he needs to ‘protect’. He’d cross boundaries not meant for mortal man to cross in the name of protection. You’d even give your life if it meant saving others!”

“Terrill… Get…up…” Krysta’s groans made him want to thrash about, but Winifred had his body under full control.

“Look, Terrill! Look!” Winifred shouted, dragging him up to stare at the approaching army. “That is all this world has to offer. Suffering! Pain! That war is coming and you can’t stop it! The shadow will taint this land and leave behind nothing but a burning corpse. The people will live in fear, and finally they’ll understand why we had to do this.”

“Is that…what this is…?” Terrill grunted under her hold. His legs flailed about, but were unable to stop her from holding him in place. Her words made his knuckles whiten. It was just like living in Sayn, what she described; the constant fear and terror full of bloodthirsty beasts and a “king” who lived and traumatized without end. Now, it seemed she wanted the same thing for Sagitta, and the rest of the world. The vessels in his fingers were about to pop from how tightly he clenched his fist. “You want to create another Golbrucht? Is that what the last war was about?”

“Shut up!” He seemed to have struck a nerve with the way she smashed his head against the edge of the base. In Terrill’s blurring vision, he could see that LeBrandon and a platoon of loyal pirates had arrived at the top, the storm intensifying as the sky grew yet darker. “You have no idea what that war was for, or what was lost with it. But this war…you’ll be front and center to watch it, Terrill, while you can’t save a thing.”

“If you keep pinning me like that, then you’re right,” Terrill said, letting his body grow loose. One of his hands was free, wiggling to try and grab his sword, but unable to feel it sliding into his grasp. So, he spoke the one thing he hoped would stun her enough to break free. “But then who would save you, Winifred?”

“What?”

Floyd’s scream was the next thing she and anyone else heard, as the boy abandoned Torry and her father to come racing along. He drove his head into Winifred, and with a roar of triumph, sent her flying over the edge. Terrill knew it wouldn’t be the end of her, so he moved as quickly as he could, rolling to the side and sweeping his blade from the now burning roof. Naturally, Winifred righted herself upon the air, hovering over all and looking down upon them. It was a small moment, but Terrill and Floyd slapped their hands together, and with Krysta, they pulled back to Torry and the mayor.

“So, hero’s how you want to play it, then?”

“If that’s what you think. And your Shadow King, your second Golbrucht, won’t be forming here today or ever!” All three trained their weapons upon the floating woman. By the stairs, Terrill’s words had an unintended effect, as the darkness around LeBrandon increased, blotting out the very clouds above them. Even his pirates were enveloped in the shadowy aura. Winifred spared them just one pathetic glance.

“To that point, you’re correct,” she admitted, and the smirk was back upon her face. “He’s already here.”

“LeBrandon’s as much a Shadow King as I’m mayor. No offense, Mr. Rainert,” Floyd said. “Boasts are just that, yeah?”

“You call my reign a mere boast!” LeBrandon’s open defiance went ignored with Terrill pointing his sword right at Winifred.

“More lies, huh? If you Fiends are so sure your prophecy will come true, and that I’m the hero to fight this Shadow King, come down and prove it,” he challenged her. Her smirk slipped off for a moment, and Terrill saw her survey him in disappointment. Around her, the winds grew ever more intense, and he could see the locket she was wearing snapping about in her gale.

“No, I don’t think I will. I have nothing to prove, but you proved what he said about you all this time in splendid fashion. I think we just need one more test to confirm the theory.” She reared back, and it looked like a lance formed in her hands until the lightning struck it, sending electricity all around its form. She aimed it for the mayor and his daughter. “Let’s see you survive, Terrill Jacobs. You’ll be of great to use as the hero against the Shadow King Atrum.”

Had it not been for the coursing electricity that Winifred now hurtled at their quintet, Terrill was certain he would have shut down.

As it was, he stopped thinking for just a few seconds.

“Atrum…” he breathed, all his extremities trembling, “…is the Shadow King? What does…what does that mean?”

“Terrill, think later!” Krysta and Floyd yelled at once. The former turned to the helpless family behind them, and tried to cover them in a barrier as the lance came all the closer. “Terrill!”

His mind snapped to it, abandoning his doubt, and his body moved in concert, on instinct.

The cloudy fog inside his mind cleared for that moment, enough to make him stab the wood at his feet. From there, a great shield of stone wove itself in midair, and the spear soon embedded itself into it. Then it exploded, sending the stones cascading to the roof, some hitting the pirates and a bewildered, and angry, LeBrandon.

“You lying bitch!” LeBrandon cursed. His claymore was in his hands, transforming to the devastating whip of water that seared the falling rain on its course for Winifred. His sadistic, pleasured grin seemed to indicate it would find its mark, were it not for the hurricane that came from Winifred’s body.

It was a blast that toppled them all over, sending them to the floor. Winifred remained above, looking down at them.

“I said it was a possibility, you oaf,” she said with cruel intent. “Did you really think a simple pirate who could do nothing until he received the power of darkness from the true Shadow King would be fit to claim that title?”

“You said I was worthy! Worthy to rule! Worthy to destroy it all! Burn it down! Burn down the order!” Every defiant roar brought with it ever-expanding darkness. LeBrandon’s body was bent at odd angles, his figure distorting itself with each cry. “Burn down fate, itself!”

“Worthy to be a tool, more like.” She had no more time for the man who fashioned himself the leader of pirates, her eyes meant only for Terrill. Without words, she dared him to reach her once more. He brought himself to his knees, his hand slipping on the wet wood, but he offered only a glare.

She was lying. She had to be. Atrum was still lost, just like Lumen and Charles, and there was no way the boy he called his best friend would do this. Not someone who understood the price of war.

Except for his tear-stained face, pleading for relief from…something.

The shadow.

Terrill’s eyes found LeBrandon’s contorted form, broken in by the shadow of darkness he could no longer control. Like a soul that was smothering his own. He began to wonder if the same had happened to Atrum, or if Winifred’s words truly were just lies meant to mislead him.

Her final statement made that all irrelevant.

“Of course, these are just possibilities. Unless we confirm what the prophecy says, there’s no way to know for sure. Maybe you are the Shadow King, LeBrandon,” the woman mocked with all the glee she could muster. “Best way to find out is if you can kill the hero. Oh, but better hurry. The army’s on its way.”

“You monster! What have you twisted my people into?!” The mayor cried out, but it fell on deaf ears.

Winifred raised her hand to the heavens, refusing to leave Terrill’s unrelenting gaze, and she fired a shot of compressed air. It sailed upwards, cutting through LeBrandon’s storm clouds and clearing the sky. The stars remained dimmer, but the rain, at least, came to an end, confirming how close the Serotin army truly was. They were out of time.

“Until next time, hero.”

Winifred was gone.

LeBrandon remained, though he was far from himself. Him and his men both seemed to have abandoned their war, their bodies taken over with the darkness that now ruled their feeble minds.

“Burn! Burn! Burn them in the tides! Drown them in the shadow!”

As it had in Silicias, the shadow burned outwards. Krysta tried to protect them, but even then, the darkness began to create a spiderweb of cracks. Much of it leaked through, striking pieces of the roof and the chains that bound the Rainerts, corroding everything it touched. Soon, the shadow shattered the barrier and washed over them. Had they been any closer, Terrill felt it may have disintegrated them entirely. As it stood, he only felt the sting of fire on his skin, and saw a piece of the roof crumble in, the structural integrity of the tower compromised.

There was a good piece of news, in any case.

“Torry, you all right?”

“I’m fine, Floyd. Thanks for caring.” There was a loud clunk, and Terrill afforded himself the opportunity to look and see that Torry’s manacles had fallen off her, disintegrated and leaving her free. The same was for her father, who stood and blinked. Terrill blinked back. Torry just beamed. “Well, it’s about time.”

As the darkness grew thick, swirling around them, Torry stepped forward. Her steps brought her in between Floyd and Krysta, and all of them faced LeBrandon and his demented force of pirates. She rolled up her sleeves, her arms bruised and battered, but no less yielding than they had been in the dungeon. Her hands formed fire and ice, both at once.

“Don’t suppose you could use a little more help?”

“I think we’ll need all we can get,” Krysta confirmed. Her words drew the ire of LeBrandon, who whipped towards them, his eyes gleaming red through the dark of night, brighter than any torch. The quartet pulled back, pushing the mayor into the middle.

The final battle at Devil’s Haven had arrived.