//------------------------------// // Chapter 9: Aftermath and Consequences // Story: The Survival Of The Species // by Borderline Valley //------------------------------// Rodin Everblaze I dreamed of my father. It was actually more of a memory, but he kept referring to events that would happen later, that he couldn't have known about. Things like the end of the world slowly encroaching on our homeland. He spoke of mother’s funeral, even though she outlived him. Really though, the dream had centered on his gift to me, all those years ago, when I came of age. He taught me the family rune, I got that lovely tattoo, and most surprising of all; a fire-crystal. Grown in the lavish laboratories the guild owned in Noxin, the secrets surrounding their creation are as tightly kept as the stories about them are widely known. That he presented me with one was a sign of confidence that I would bring the family great honor with my work. Expensive does not begin to describe what my father had to do to obtain one. The fact that he and his father before him owned one didn't matter, considering his own brother never so much as got to touch one his whole life. That crystal was the only keepsake brought with me, by virtue of it being part of my combat gear; I’d like to think that I used it well in the end. Waking up to the sound and feel of your own flesh burning is not pleasant. Jolting to my feet, The first thing I notice is that my war-robe, the one immune to fire, was gone. I remember it literally being incinerated off of my body by the magic I unleashed. I’m standing around naked, save for the burning ash that coats my back. I can practically feel my skin reddening from contact with the still-hot earth. The ground I stand on is cracked and black, the life of the forest seems to be burned out of it for now. I imagine it will likely grow back, given time, but for the moment, heat still rises from it in waves. I’m pretty sure the nerves in my feet have died by now, as I can no longer feel them burning. The pain is intense, but I am alive. As I look around, I marvel at that simple fact. The circle in which my spell was contained to is practically featureless, a blackened crater. Outside it the heat that leaked past the spell has singed several nearby bushes and smaller trees to nothing but stumps of charcoal. Beyond that, the trees are healthy and green, as if nothing of consequence happened nearby. “Good.” I breathe a sigh of relief. The whole point of the circle was to contain and focus the energy into the circle, and away from my allies. To all appearances, they survived and just left me for dead. Heh. I don’t blame them. I’m sure the gift of my line has never been tested to this extreme before. But wait. If I survived that… could Timber have as well? My memory tells me nothing, all I saw, felt, tasted, heard or breathed was my own fire, until I fell unconscious. Looking around, the only other feature in the crater is that ball of orange fire over there. Ball of orange fire? I stumble my way over to the oddity. As I get closer, the air seems to get heavier… Thick with some sort of magic. I’m close enough now to see that it isn't a ball of orange fire, exactly… It’s a small glass sphere, the size of my head, and inside is a bright orange fire that I've seen somewhere before… I poke the glass, and stumble backwards as waves of- recognition of the one who did this to him! Hatred for being reduced to such a state! The whole weight of my fury is directed at this puny- my finger slips from the glass, leaving me to stare at it in horror. “How are you not dead!?” That orange color, it’s the same color as that massive flame Timber had been using as an eyeball! My mind flashes to my initial scan of the creature, and how the spark of it’s divinity seemed to be located in it’s eye. What is this, Timber’s true form? An inert glass sphere? I might have found it laughable were there not an incredible danger to this new fact. If this little glass sphere could become that… thing. Then it can do it again. I refuse to allow that to happen. I approach the glass more cautiously this time. My finger traces a circle around it, careful not to touch the glass. Red energy spills from my finger, flowing into the small grooves I'm making in the burning hot ash. Three identical runes, at equidistant points along the circle, are traced with a steady finger, despite the pain. This time, there are no fancy conditions or limiters in use. This must be done quickly and cleanly. Only Destruction is needed. There is a reason I have refused to teach Creation and Destruction to Sophia. She is ten. What should, by all rights, belong solely to the gods, was gifted to us in the form of two elegant runes. They are not toys to be abused. I snort at my own thought process. Really, it’s just so that when you piss off the gods by abusing the power, they rain down lightning on your head, not the parent who’s supposed to be keeping you out of trouble. It’s a simple rune. A simple spell. Everything inside the circle will be Destroyed, ceasing to exist in all senses of the phrase. The magic required has a tendency to increase exponentially with the area, but this is only a small circle. In mere moments, the spell is complete, the glass orb, the orange fire, the black earth it had rested on , all winking out of existence, with a soft ‘pop’ as the air rushes to fill the space. I resist the urge to fall back to the earth and relax. I’m still very much in danger of dying, baked alive by the residual heat of the biggest spell I've ever cast. Now that would be an ironic way for an Everblaze to go. I laugh at the prospect. Can’t be killed by the heat of your own flames? Well have fun with the heat you get from touching what your flames heated. We will remember you fondly. I suspect my injuries may be affecting my judgement, but I successfully manage to stumble outside of the radius of blackened earth, and on to the solid, blessedly cold dirt. It is only as I move farther away from the crater that I am aware of just how clouded with smoke the air had been. I think I can see the sky now… aaand the sky is filled with smoke too. I may not have thought this through as much as I should. What other secondary effects might there have been? “Sir!” I turn, just in time to see some nameless soldier I don’t recognize walk out of the forest, hand over his eyes as he peers through the haze. “What is it?” I ask, sort of upset that he’s here, though I can’t put my finger on why… Oh! Right. I’m still very much naked. Why is my vision fading to black? I don’t feel the impact as I hit the ground. Herbert Senthson I had shot the arrow, watched as it embedded itself in the tree and the crystal stayed attached to it, even as it started to softly glow. I had paused, waiting for the wolf to notice, but it never did. I’m not sure why, but, my task complete, I suddenly wanted to live. Whatever was about to go down, I didn't want to be there for it. I turned and sprinted, trying to put as much distance between me and the spell. ”BURN WITH ME!” The world seemed to explode as I dove for cover behind a rather large fallen log. I’m pretty sure something had knocked me unconscious, because the next thing I knew, the forest had started to dim; night seemed to be falling. It was then that I got up; wandering back around the way my path had originally taken me. Hoping to run in with the Captain, but ultimately, convinced that I was alone. I could barely see through the haze as I navigated my way back to where we had fought the wolves. It was then that I encountered Rodin, alive against all odds, before he collapsed. Awww hell no! It took some effort to move him without aggravating his rather severe burns, but eventually I got us moving through the forest. I was able to gather enough fruits as we walked that when we stopped for the night, I was able to feed myself, and shake him awake long enough for him to eat too. That night it was easy to fall sleep. I practically couldn't believe I was still alive; looking out for predators never even entered my mind. Sergeant Bill would skin me alive if he ever found out. Now though, it’s morning again, and I can properly see how badly Rodin managed to screw his body over. His back runs the range from first to third degree burns, and I’m not even going to try to describe his ‘feet’. I wrap him in my entire supply of burn cream and bandages from my kit, hoping that’s going to be enough. I have to carry him: No way in hell am I letting him walk back on those feet. The Captain would skin me alive… It isn't that bad; he’s not all that heavy, and the forest-fire trail gives me a straight shot back home, so all I have to do is follow it. Then he wakes up. For about an hour there’s not much else but crying from the pain; apparently the Healers’ salves aren't fun when applied. Either they wear out, or he gets used to the pain, because he seems to calm down after that hour and attempts some conversation. “Wh- What’s your name?” “Herbert Senthson. And you are Rodin Everblaze, the village mage.” “I see my reputation pre- precedes me.” *sob* “What the hell did you do back there?” I want to know. I know at least a dozen of us died getting him there, and I’m guessing another four died getting the crystals in position. The least he could do is tell me what it was he did with all those sacrificed lives. He laughs weakly. “I activated my failsafe.” “Your failsafe?” I ask. I can feel him nod. “Ever wonder why I picked your village to be stationed at? So far out of the way of the war?” I hadn't, but I let him continue without interruption. “I knew it was the end of the line for humanity, and I wanted the last of us to go out, with a bang!” He laughs and cries for a while after that. I can’t help but wonder why he’s being so open about this. Surely if anyone knew he had that much magic stored away I’d have heard about it before now… right? “Ok, but how did you do that? Could you do it again if that thing’s twin brother shows up for revenge or something?” “How much do you know about fire-crystals kid?” he asks in return. I’m not sure how much I like being called ‘kid’. “They’re some really powerful focus for fire mages, right?” I can feel him nod again. “Right, so, they can act sort of like a focusing lens for fire spells. OR, they can store near infinite magical energy, but they chain it down! Making all that magic usable only for making magical fire,” he giggles, “guess what I've been doing every night for the last twenty-three years?” he asks in a broken, sing-song voice. I remain silent. Is there some side-effect to the salve I should know about? Is he drunk or something? He waits for me to guess. I relent, “I don’t know, what?” Only his snores answer me, signaling that he’s fallen asleep. Good. I’m sick of the delirium. James Mender Sophia has barely left his side. I lean against a wall. This is a rare moment; with nothing requiring my immediate attention, I take the time regard the little girl. She looks sort of like him; their eyes are the same shade of blue at least. The family resemblance is there, but it makes me wonder what her mother looked like. It’s odd, I saw her in Rodin’s memories. I know I did. But I can’t remember her face anymore… Can he? I shake my head. I can’t afford to dwell on it. When we finally returned to camp, most got to rest. I for one, got to head straight back to the hospital, tending to wounds and trying to keep everyone alive. We lost too many in this excursion, far too many. I don’t want to lose any more if I can avoid it. Of course, after the four hours’ sleep I grabbed once everyone was stable again, Rodin himself is carried into my hospital. I have no idea how he survived that inferno. He really should be dead many times over. The burns he has are quite severe. On his own, I’m sure his condition would just spiral until he dies. It was for situations like these that I first learned Spirit Weaving. When flesh and medicine fails, it is the spirit that we turn to for aid. I can hear some sort of commotion outside. I’m unsure of what’s going on, but I hope it’s just the guards bringing back a live deer or two. I turn my gaze to the other beds. Almost two dozen men fill them, each with wounds so severe that we had to place them into stasis. Rodin himself is in such a stasis. It’s really one of the most useful tools in my arsenal, and it’s one of the first things I taught Hayley and Devin. By forcing their spirit into an inactive state, all their body processes slow. They heal slower, breathe slower, dream slower, and most importantly, they die slower. If Rodin might otherwise not live through the night, I can stretch his life out for weeks while we search for sacrifices. Sure enough, two guards enter my hospital carrying a trussed up deer. I really must remember to thank the Captain for the steady supply of animals. I wave them over to Rodin’s bed. “Sophia, I need you to wait by the door.” She looks at me, concern written all over her face. What’s this? Rodin’s been in and out of here practically constantly since he first came to us, why is she so worried this time? “Alright Mr. Mender,” she says quietly, moving out of the way. As the deer is brought before us, I reach out with my spirit, which is second nature to me by now, and begin channeling its energy into Rodin’s spirit. Granted, he’s never been this injured before, really. Now that I think about it, its mostly just been cases of overexertion. I shake my head. I've learned more about what Rune Calling does to the body through fixing him up than I ever wanted to know. Even as the energy I’m feeding him is bolstering and invigorating Rodin’s shriveled up spirit, I’m studying the extent of his injuries again. It’s almost a masterpiece of work. Very localized burns, of varying intensity, I’d guess from resting on something very hot. His lungs have seen some kind of trauma. I’m guessing smoke inhalation, given past experience with his love of fire. His feet are a mess that I almost decided to cut off and have him grow new ones, but decided that healing them would take marginally less energy. To top it all off, he’s drained himself of so much energy it’s startling. He once told me it was impossible to kill himself outright by simply over taxing himself, but I’m officially doubting him now. All too soon the once struggling deer is no more than dust. My spirit waves to its as it departs for the afterlife. A pointless gesture, some might say. The worst of Rodin’s burns are now gone, and I think the problems with his lungs have vanished. His feet show the barest amount of progress, but I imagine I’ll have to focus an entire sacrifice on them to make much headway. His bodily reserves of fat are back though, which affords me a measure of relief. He’s not out of the woods yet, but he is no longer hanging off a thousand foot cliff by one finger. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to focus all the sacrifices on him, there are many others who need my help. The guards seem anxious to get back outside; whatever commotion is present seems to have only increased in intensity. Leaving the hospital in the capable hands of my assistants, I step outside, to see half the camp babbling in fear near the Governor’s residence. The Captain is there, trying to keep things under control. I approach him, keeping my own features calm. As I walk, I observe the spirits of the crowd with the eyes of my own spirit. They reveal no evidence of tampering, but I can read the worry and fear there like a book. Some of them are on the verge of panic, but I reach out and tap them, spiking their emotional energy a little, and they faint dead away. I reach the captain, catching his eyes with my own, “What’s going on!” I ask over the sound of the crowd. He motions me aside, having to raise his voice, even as he speaks in my ear. “Witnesses report a monster appearing, abducting Governor Birchwood, and vanishing, all in the space of a few seconds.” I groan. I really hope this doesn't start another war. I’ll be hard pressed to restock my stores and get everyone on their feet again as it is. A war would only set me back further. I haven’t even had time to really research what’s wrong with my special patients either. They were in my care even before we were sent to this world, and have yet to exit stasis in here. It’s frustrating; even with all I know, nothing I try with them works! I rub my temples, trying to stave off a headache. “When was this? What did it look like?” “About thirty minutes ago. Those nearby claimed it looked like a bunch of different animals sewn together, and that it spoke before disappearing with the Governor.” I frown. That doesn't sound good. Some kind of intelligent chimera? “And we have no idea where it went? Or how far?” The Captain nods grimly. “They could be over the next hill or half-way across the continent for all we know.” I know what’s coming next so well that I can practically speak his next sentences for him. “I’m going to start organizing the search parties. I need as many men as I can get, back on their feet, as soon as possible. And get Rodin up, I’m sure this thing used magic, that’s his specialty. I smile wryly. There isn't much more I can do for many of them without getting more sacrifices, and he knows it. “Sure thing, Captain.”