Malachi Armstrong

He swallowed down panic as the humanoid rat thing approached with a hideous grin and eager red claws. The sword acolyte was terrified. His muscles were overly taut at the idea of fighting this horror. This damnable monster that had tossed aside his strongest allies(friends). It had removed them violently from the equation with such ease. Surrounded by the Sixty and his dearest, Malachi was alone with this pale abomination. To refuse the one-on-one would be to invite their deaths. Choosing to ignite a reaping. One that would overshadow their previously endured massacre. He could feel the certainty of that in that eyeless stare. Red malevolence swirling in empty black.

What’s with that damn thing’s skin? thought Malachi as his mind desperately took in every bit of information. It just doesn’t seem to fit. Worst than loose, more like an ill-fitted costume… a crudely made one. The baggy skin swung at every step where it hung. On closer inspection, he started to feel it might not be one whole piece. Patches and pieces were attached in some seamless manner. A shudder at all the implications that rolled out from that reflection.

There was an artificial impression to the claws. Finger-like knives that ended at a needle thinness. In the azure gloom, they glistened, giving the impression of red glass or congealed blood. Those details applied revolting things to Malachi.

Unfortunately, the inspection brought him to the head. There was nowhere else to look and to be thorough. The sword acolyte couldn’t risk missing anything. No matter how hideous, lives were on the line. His stomach rebelled as Malachi looked up. A bit of gibbering nonsense formed in the front of his mind, his lip quivering to release it. He shunted it aside. There was no time for a breakdown. Not another one.

The face, he looked once more. Focusing on that all too human visage. One could almost imagine what they would look like randomly on the street. If it didn’t have the rank fur and two dogs’ worth of sharp teeth crowded together. The holes for eyes were a new suffocation of horror on their own. Rippling darkness where red-shifted like an inkblot. The sight was mesmerizing and terrible. Malachi had to jerk himself a few steps away to break the charm. It grinned knowingly.

He gripped the stone sword in his one good hand, trying to prepare himself. To throw himself into the battle fury as this horrifying thing approached steadily and wicked. Malach’s eyes were drawn to Julia; a last look or perhaps seeking a moment of comfort or maybe to just remember, etc and all the above. It was a mistake and a victory. In his selfish panic, the sword acolyte had forgotten she was wounded. Fury, cold and enveloping. It burned him to be better, to be for more than himself as promised, and the rising flames in his eyes locked on to the pale beast.

Her blood weighed on Malachi. Fuel for determination. A symbol of an oath of devotion to see this monster punished. The rat would be made to rue having harmed, not just Julia, but any of his people. He took his own step towards the approaching thing. Twin Mana surged into his limbs, silver and sky blue merging together. He became a light in the gloom. The pale thing’s eyeless stare flinched at the sight.

A deep breath, for preparation and the feel of life, then he took the plunge. Knees bent and snapped into a charge. The bearded leader’s sword sung with light and his spells were ready to the lips. He didn’t have the power or variety like the other acolytes, but there were other directions to train your magic. The pale thing shifted with open arms, claws clenched to rip and tear. The sword acolyte waited for the right moment to cast. Something fast and simple. A derivative of Fire Blast if one stripped down its aspects. Three quick paces away, he spoke.

“Flare!”

He needed no more words than that. Malachi had decided to focus on speed casting. Only one word was needed and in some cases none at all. From this single word, a ball of light burst into life and shot at the evil creature. It cringed away from the glow. The sword acolyte followed closely behind so he was in place.

When the ball of light was a foot away it burst briefly into a star. A breathless scream rattled Malachi’s ears as he rushed in to make the moment count. The sooty smell of something singed filled the air as the bearded leader swept his word into a mighty slash. Mana surged to support the strength of the blow and his sword. He felt the skin part to the blade-like old leather giving way, but instead of the tackiness of flesh, there was the ease of jelly. Expecting more resistance, the sword acolyte almost tripped as he passed by so easily.

Five paces away before turning to see the results. Unwilling to be anything less than wary, his sword was still burning brightly silver and blue. Few monsters ever fell from one blow. Malachi was right too. The pale thing still stood. Looking over its shoulder at him with an ashy face where fur burned and cold flesh cooked. A humorless grin before it looked down and gave a disturbingly embarrassed look. Where the beast had been bisected at the wait, the skin had dropped like loose cloth. The flesh revealed was not solid. Instead a quivering goo in the impression of humanoid legs. Like the monster’s claws, it was distinctly red in color and invoked the disgust of old blood.

In one smooth movement, the pale turn twisted to face Malachi, and little red tendrils formed out of the gooey flesh. The strands lifted the skin into place. From within they began to sew the two pieces back together. Loops like red thread dive in and out, being pulled tight until the pale horror looked fixed. It was a mild comfort to the sword acolyte that the singes caused by Flare were still there.

A small blessing that some damage is permanent, thought Malachi dryly. The pale thing was walking towards him again. Closing in slowly, grinning again in good humor. This time it didn’t birth fear in the bearded leader. His thoughts were turned inwards, calculating the next move. Seeking the path of victory to ensure the end of this terrible beast.

He concluded, That’s twice now I have surprised the monster. It might be more powerful than me, but it can be tricked. Maybe low odds, but I’ve always been willing to bet on my luck.

Malachi dashed forward, once again firing off Flare ahead of him. The pale thing winced at the light, but a black cloud erupted from a raised hand. Particles of darkness countered the spell and provided shade for the pale rat. That didn’t bother the sword acolyte. He hadn’t expected that to work twice. Just a mild distraction for the horror. Something to take advantage of it looking down on him.

His sword plunged towards, but the off-balance the pale thing looked willing to tank the hit. A grin of his own came alight on the sword acolyte. With only a thought, electricity ran down his blade’s edge. The tip of the stone sword breached the skin, a roil of electricity scorched fur and skin. Malachi released the full force of Lightning Blade the moment he felt the texture of the central goop. Thunder and a howl broke the air. Blue tinted static erupted from within the pale thing. Pleased with himself, the sword acolyte backed away to see the results and prepare for the next step.

In the span of two breaths, the wretched thing launched itself at Malachi. The full fury of a wounded monster behind every quickening slash of the blood-red claws. More than one groove was torn out of his leather armor while defending on the back foot. Sword met claw wherever possible while he tried to disengage from the pale thing. Finally, a weakly powered Fire Blast cast through clenched teeth gave him the room to breathe. The air pressure of the explosion pushed them away from each other.

The sword acolyte got his first look at the results of his full charge Lightning Blade strike. Red tendrils dragged charred pieces of skin back into place, but there were gaps. That same goop was forced to fill the gaps with webbing like a spider’s. The fur was burned away or ashen. It was a mongrel figure that the evil thing presented. The grin of the monster faltering into a grimace. A black haze began to emanate in the air as stinging pulses of hate came off it.

There were sparks in the air as the two of them glared at each other. One hatefully, the other determined. Electricity formed around the stone sword again. Red claws gleamed in a cloud of black snow. They charged, monster and man. Malachi raised his arms to bring down a stroke of thunder, but a bolt of black particles slammed into his face like bees.

He closed his eyes and was cast into complete darkness. A buzzing filled his ears as little spots of burning multiplied across the skin. The sword acolyte did his best to ignore it, any hesitation or a flinch could get him killed. Buying more precious moments of life, he thrust his sword into the ground. Half the charge of Lightning Blade rippled outwards from him. A yowl of pain was the only confirmation got that his maneuver was successful. He immediately began to chant.

“Wall Unseen,

Enclosed Ground,

Brandished Force,

Barrier: Encirclement!”

A ring of spears appeared around Malachi, three lines thick to cover all angles. The spears of crystal light thrust forward in perfect unity. A scream of protest came from his back left. Grinning, Malachi unleashed the rest of the electrical charge in that direction. Purple splotches lit across his eyelids and the swarming pain broke.

Before he had the chance to open them, there was the sound of shattering glass. Following that a great and terrible blow slammed into Malachi’s stomach. Five points of pressure turned into piercing stabs and then the force of attack had him flying through the air. He bounced, rolled, and skidded before coming to a rest in a pile of limbs.

Laying on the ground, the sword acolyte groaned and checked his chest. The pain there was extraordinary. Like searing pins digging into his flesh. Though the wounds felt blistering, he found no blood on his hand. A grimace and a promise to worry later got Malachi back on his feet with the help of the sword. His first view of the pale thing evoked mixed feelings of victory and terror.

The last blast of lightning had blown off the upper right half of the monster. It didn’t seem at all pleased by the results and murder had replaced what little humor it had presented before. Skin and fur were gone to dust, leaving the inner core exposed. As the bearded leader watched, the pale thing’s goopy flesh poured out to replace the missing limb. He was a little jealous as the reforming process shifted into place like liquid in zero-g. All this happened as it stomped towards Malachi at the head of a storm of black flurries.

“Hell,” coughed the sword acolyte. “I don’t think he’s underestimating me anymore, but it seems I’ve royally pissed the damn thing off.” A light laugh followed from him, dry and dark. His thoughts passed through his body in assessment. Bruises and pains checked for detriment. Wobbly, but good enough to keep going. The worst was still endurable.

Not that I have a choice in the matter, added Malachi to himself. Gotta keep it from going through the Sixty. From touching Julia or Damian… again. He reached into himself to gather his strength. Silver light met his thoughts. The Mana he thought of as connected to his leadership pooled deeply and was reaching out to him. Without looking, he felt they were watching him now. Their fights were over and now the Sixty were watching this one. Seeing his struggle to hold back this pale one. The bearded leader smiled softly and peacefully. He reached into the Mana pool and brought their offered strength forward. More so than ever before.

Silver flashed into an aura around him. The sword acolyte dashed forward, feeling lighter. Raised his sword because it felt mighty with their strength. Smiled wide for it was good to be believed in. Malachi rushed the monsters and the words of the chant flew from his mouth like silk.

“I Am The Voice,

Chosen By Mine,

Unrelenting For Them,

By Their Trust,

Decisive Strike!”

Empowered by his people, one potent blow became many. Silver Mana left blazing lines as his sword struck with speed and precision. Each slash felt destined and right. Dried skin parted like worthless paper and the inner goop ruptured violently before the passing blade. It felt good and Malachi was triumphant as he laid his might upon the monster. The pale thing hissed and snarled as defensive maneuvers saw its arms sliced through.

When the spell came to an end, the bearded leader stared down the monster. It glared back, the beast’s skin was in ribbons, but the semi-solid inner flesh was undiminished. His cheer began to die. An eyeless stare burned into him with the promise of payback. There was resentment in its body language that spoke of annoyance with the resistance that had been found.

The first return of anger came as a backhand, filled with hate and contempt. The strange limb that looked disturbingly like clouted blood jerked Malachi’s head to the side. Next was a fist to the gut that tossed him up into the air and on the flat of his back. The pale thing appeared at his side and kicked back into the air. This happened several times while the monster mixed in stomps. He tried to turn it around or escape, but nothing worked. The sword acolyte realized why, it wasn’t holding back anymore. All the while black particles rain down on him like snow. Burning wherever they touched.

Eventually, the pale rat grew bored. It kicked Malachi onto his back. He got one quick glance at the beast before red claws came for his face. A quick tuck and shift saved him from the killing blow. Three talons still cut across the skin. One just on the outside of the left eye, another cut down across the eye socket, but missed the eye itself, and the third caught flesh under the nose down to the chin. The pain dug into him deeply. Like furrows of flesh dug out to the skull, but there was no feeling of blood flowing.

A hiss of frustration came from the monster as it leaned down to hold his head with one hand. The other aimed for thrusting taloned fingers through him. Malachi didn’t blink, but instead stoke the Mana within him. A thought occurred and took over all consideration. The spell was half-formed from the Heartsong, but enough. He set the energy within him to explode, revving it up more and more, but keeping the Mana barely stable. On his death, the Mana would hopefully take the pale thing with him. The sword acolyte grinned viciously, not fighting back as his little surprise grew.

The claw raised, but never fell. Projectiles of violet and green forced the monster back a few steps away. Suddenly, he wasn’t alone. Julia and Warner were lifting Malachi to his feet. Clarissa had found a new bow and was preparing another shot. For the first time, the sword acolyte saw Damian angry. The placid face of the obsidian acolyte was ruffled in rage, eyes only for the pale one. Black snow fell on them too, but they ignored it as they stood with him.

Panic spurred him to take to his feet. Malachi tried to fling himself back into the fight. They wouldn’t let him. Julia said sternly, “No, you’ve done enough. We won’t let you do it alone anymore.”

“No!” said the bearded leader as he began to argue. “It isn’t holding back anymore! It’ll come for everyone!”

“Hey man! Don’t worry, we gotcha!” grinned Warner as he glided forward towards the pale thing. “Pretty damn good rumble you had there, hoss. That thing is a bitch and half. Let’s put it down, right and proper.”

Malachi blinked in surprise at the support from the brawler. Of all people, he hadn’t expected much respect to last after losing a fight in front of the big man. Yet, through the silver Mana, Warner’s respect could still be felt. Turning inward, it was the same with everyone else. The pool of strength was still there. The Sixty was still with him. He looked behind him and saw his people moving together to support the four of them.

Black bolts reopened hostilities after the pale thing looked in distaste at the sudden grouping up. Venomously, it launched the bundles of dark particles at the SIxty. Damian waved his staff, violet bubbles appeared in the path of the bolts. Each was enveloped and then destroyed as the bubbles shrank out of sight. The monster snarled at the disruptions and began to stalk forward.

Warner met it, shimmering and orange. Fist to claw, the two battled it out as magic and arrows rained down on the monster. The pale one was a match to the effort. Black bolts met projectiles while the blood-red claws tore out chunks of the orange Mana at every swipe. Some attacks got through, but the pale beast tanked them unfazed. The brawler began to falter as his Form’s defenses thinned and blows that got through began to mean more. Elena and Zachariah joined. The three of them moved in tandem, turning the rhythm of the battle to their favor. More arrows and spells joined the swarm as more of the Sixty joined in.

A deep and snarling yowl ripped out of the pale thing and a summon wave of black flurries rocked into the three frontlines. They were tossed back from the monster along with other melee fighters that tried to join them. It screamed angrily at all of them. A great cloud of flecked darkness swirling behind the monster. The Sixty stood across and ready to turn their might against the beast. Melee fighters found their feet, stoic faces as they did. Acolytes summoned masses of Mana and their words echoed in the tunnel. Malachi stood proudly with them, his sword blazing again with silver and blue.

The pale thing observed them, a quiet rumbling growl in its dry throw. They all flinched at the irritated scream that erupted at them. The monster lifted its arms and snapped them down. The wall of black particles rushed forward at them. Leon cast a barrier across the whole of the tunnel. Holes began to be eaten out of it by the flurries. The barrier acolyte was forced to exhaustion by casting three more before it was enough.

When the storm of black snow faded, the pale thing was gone.

“It ran?” blinked Malachi. “I guess, we had it on the ropes there…”

“No, we got lucky,” interrupted Damian with a frown. “It was a coward.”

“A coward? What do you mean?”

“Anastasia will be able to confirm, but I felt that monster’s Mana. It could have done much worse, but we scared it.”

Malachi searched for his own impression and felt a drop in his spirits. “Alright, that sucks. And we might have to deal with it again. Wait, hold on, how did we scare it, do you think?”

“Simply, the pale thing did not want to die,” answered Damian. A cold certainty appeared on the acolyte’s face. “Many of us would have died, but we would have killed it.”

“Well, that’s something,” grimaced the sword acolyte. “At least no one had to die this time.”

“Let’s not talk about dying, please,” interrupted Julia. “That was a little too close for me, Malachi. You shouldn’t have risked yourself like that.”

“Neither should you have,” he replied with a smile. “Standing in its way almost got you killed.”

“I don’t regret it. That was stupid to accept a monster’s offer of a one on one!” She reached up to place a hand on his cheek, the emotions welling in her eyes.

“I’m sorry to worry you, but I don’t regret my decision either. Protecting you all is my duty.” They both fell silent as their argument ran into that mutual wall. Neither was angry, so being right wasn’t important. Each heard the other and now they enjoyed the moment. Lost in each other's eyes. Faint blushes appeared in the cheeks of both.

Damian, who was still standing there watching all this with head tilting curiously, broke the silence. “Do you two like each other? Is this a relationship?”

The two of them blanched and laughed with embarrassment at the honest question. Around them, several people joined Clarissa in laughing hard at the moment. The archer even pointed as she roared with good humor.