//------------------------------// // Chapter 33 - Duty Beyond Death // Story: The Dusk Guard Saga: Beyond the Borderlands // by Viking ZX //------------------------------// Necropolis - Somewhere over the Turuncu Desert She could taste the bone dust in her mouth. It was disgusting. Evidence of their battle was everywhere. They’d left a trail of broken, shattered bones behind them on their journey through the Necropolis: Fragmented limbs, powdered vertebrae, splintered wings, and lifeless claws marking every battle along the way. And with them, they’d picked up their own signs: cuts, scrapes, and bruising, or even worse injuries that they’d needed to squander their limited potion supply on. She ducked under another set of outstretched talons, her armor shrieking across the stone as she brought her claymore up in an overhand chop that cracked right through one of the limbs and knocked the diving skeleton off balance. Her backswing caught it about the shoulder, ribs and spine splintering as the heavy blade bit deeply into the ancient bone, almost cleaving the upper body in half. She tugged her sword back, her foe already falling to one side, another stepping into its place almost as soon as it was gone. “Blade!” She turned at the call. Frost was holding up the rear of their action, using her magic to manipulate her bladed bow with dangerous finesse as she carved her way through the various skeletons coming from their rear. Every so often there would be a moment of calm and her bow would return to its original purpose, frozen missiles streaking down the halls to ensnare with ice or shatter bone. “What?” Blade called, her blade biting through another skelton. Chips of bone sprayed across her face, planting themselves in her feathers along with the dust and dirt. When this is all over, I’m going to need to spend a whole day preening to get all this filth out, she thought. “Armored in the rear!” Frost said. “Right.” She turned, catching her newest assailant with the tip of her sword and trimming a piece of bone from its forehead. “Hain, cover the front! Keep us moving forward!” “Got it!” The old griffon leapt to the forefront, his mace lashing out in surprisingly intricate patterns as he tore through the oncoming skeletons. Bone slivers flew through the air, the crunch and crack of his blows mixing with the rhythmic clicking of the continually arriving storm. There’s just so many, Blade thought as she moved to the rear line. She could see them now, mixed in with a few other plain skeletons as they moved down that hall. Armored skeletons, two on the floor, one on the wall. The armor was old, tarnished, and crude, like something out of a history book, but it worked well enough, though the skeletons that came with it didn’t seem intelligent enough to make active use of it. How many more of these things can there be? She knew she probably wouldn’t like the answer, though it was already floating on the edges of her mind. The place had vanished along with Anubis’s followers, after all, and it would have taken time to construct. If whole clans had been following the ancient immortal … She shook her head as she stabbed her claymore into another rib cage, throwing her weight to one side and smashing the skeleton against the wall. She didn’t want to think about it. Besides, she was fairly certain she’d seen several of the skeletons they’d taken out reforming with bones from other fallen allies. Which meant that not only was getting a solid count going to prove impossible, but that until they smashed every single bone on the city to powder, there were going to be foes for them to fight. And we don’t have the stamina for that, she thought as the first armored skeleton approached her, its loose gait picking up speed as it moved to the attack. She stepped back, letting the first strike of its claws cut through the air, and then lifted her sword, blocking its backswing with the edge of her blade and feeling a sense of satisfaction as the claws chipped against the metal. The jarring motion seemed to confuse her opponent, and she lowered the claymore, stabbing outward and through the opening in her foe’s helmet. She felt bone crack as the tip of the blade punched through the cleft between the eye sockets. She retreated, retracting her sword and stepping backwards as the skeleton’s claws came up once more. This time she waited until it was partially through its next attack to strike, the edge of her claymore colliding with the skeleton’s vambrace and then sliding down towards the elbow. She gave the hilt a twist, locking the blade inside the joint, and then threw her weight into it. The right forelimb came free with a snap, the bone parting beneath her makeshift lever, and again she stepped back as the foreleg fell to the ground. The skeleton limped after her, but it didn’t seem quite sure how to react to the loss of its leg. One limb down, more to go, she thought as it jumped for her, her blade parrying the attack. Beside her, Frost was dealing with the unarmored skeletons, mixing her ice magic with her bow and a few other clever tricks that seemed to be keeping the relatively simple-minded skeletons at bay. Come on! Blade thought as her next strike missed, glancing off of the skeleton’s armor. The second armored construct had closed now, and she could see Frost out of the corner of her eye dueling with it, intermixing her blows with ice arrows to slow the thing down. Her blade struck home, scraping down the side of the skeleton’s body even as its remaining set of claws skipped off of her own, superior armor. The half-rotted ties holding the thing’s armor plate snapped, and a second, quick blow sent both pieces tumbling away. Die already! she thought, bringing her blade down on the armored skeleton’s left shoulder, bone snapping with a series of cracks. The thing slumped forward as its good leg gave out, and she kicked its head for good measure, the neck snapping under her blow. She didn’t have time to admire her work, though. The third armored skeleton was engaging Frost now, and Blade stepped forward, knocking back an ordinary attacker as she did so. She went after the ice-encumbered skeleton first, its slower movements allowing her to slide her blade between a gap in the armor and then sever the ties holding it in place. A moment later it was unarmored, and it fell quickly. Between the two of them, the third fared little chance. It fell seconds later. Blade took a quick look around as the wave of skeletons fell back slightly. The entire exchange had taken less than half a minute. “Blade,” Hain said, his voice level and calm against the crack of his mace hitting bone. She wasn’t sure how he could be so deadpan. We’re fighting skeletons, for crying out loud! she thought as she slammed the hilt of her sword into an oncoming beak, feeling a satisfying crunch beneath her talons. I’ve faced golems, and this is still interesting! She nodded towards Frost and got a nod in return. She could hold out against what was left. Blade turned back towards the front, snapping her wings to give her a little extra force as she came down on a skeleton that was crawling along the wall near Hain’s head. It crashed to the floor, bones breaking apart, and she stepped up alongside the old griffon, her blade once more on the offensive. “Opening ahead,” Hain said, nodding at the wide expanse ahead of them. “Could be a central hub.” “Good,” she said, snapping herself up and into the air, cutting one skeleton from the ceiling before it could strike and landing in the middle of another pair, her blade sweeping from side to side. “I’m getting a little tired of fighting these guys.” “Really?” Hain asked, bringing his mace down on another outstretched wing, the dry bones cracking like kindling. “From your grin I thought you were having a pretty good time.” “It’s the taste,” she said, unable to decide if the old griffon was being sarcastic or not. Another skeleton fell, the end of the hallway drawing closer with its passing. “It’s disgusting, and the sooner I can get it off of my tongue and out of my feathers, the better.” Another skeleton collapsed, its spine parted by the passing of her sword. Now there were only five of them between her and the end of the hallway. The floor trembled underfoot, a distant tremor sliding through the stone like a ripple atop a pond. She brought her claymore up again as dust trickled from the ceiling, her senses splitting their focus between the the oncoming skeletons and the unexpected rumble that had just moved through the city. She darted forward, ducking around an outstretched pair of talons, her armor tugging at her harness as the claws scraped against her arm-guard, thankfully passing by without catching anything. She lashed out with a hind leg and felt her paw press up against ribs. They were like cold, smooth, stone rods, with a pebbly feel to them, but they snapped with a brittle sound, like something ancient and tight had given way in a sudden, rapid motion. The rumble came again, weaker this time, but also familiar. She began to count in her mind as she and Hain converged on the last few skeletons, both of them falling into the ingrained supportive combat stances that every griffon warrior was drilled in. Even as the second-to-last skeleton fell before them, collapsing like a museum exhibit that’s supportive wires had been cut, she felt another telltale rumble underfoot, followed by another, and then another. She knew the pattern. “They’re shooting at the city!” she shouted as she dove forward, body checking the last skeleton and shoving it back. The magically animated things were strong, but only when they seemed to expect to need their strength, unlike the golems that her last employer had used, which were strong all the time. Which meant that unlike the golems, when you caught the skeletons by surprise, they didn’t display any sort of the strength or resistance they did when striking. And if you used that against them … she dropped, anticipating the skeleton’s actions and coming up from beneath it as it pushed back. Its momentum now misdirected, it flew up, propelled by its own legs and her own upwards-slanting shove. There was a loud crack as it collided with the ceiling. “Who’s shooting at the city?” Frost asked. Another rumble sped by underfoot. “The frigates,” Blade said, pausing as the last skeleton fell. The hallway was almost silent now, nothing echoing down it but their own voices and a familiar, chilling whisper of dry claws scraping across stone. “I recognize the timing. That’s gunfire. They’re shelling the Necropolis. Come on!” She bolted toward the end of the hallway, heading for the wide open space behind it. “If they’re shelling it, that’s just one more factor that’s on our side.” They broke out into a massive atrium: A wide, high-ceilinged room with two levels and exits from each. In moments, her eyes had snapped to the long, grand staircase on one side of the room, a massive selection of stone steps climbing up towards the back of the room. There was an open doorway at the top of the steps, a wide, ornate thing that promised importance. Wherever Anubis was, and Alchemy if he was with him, it was probably beyond that door. But it was the two buttresses that flanked the stairway that caught her eyes next that made her skid to a halt, her talons scraping against the stone as she came to a standstill, Hain and Frost coming up behind her. “Well,” Hain said as he looked at the figures atop the twin stone platforms. “That’s new.” Bones clicked as the two mighty figures sitting atop the buttresses shifted and stood, rising upon their plinths like ancient sentinels. Blade took a step back, falling into a ready position as each of the three heads atop the constructs shifted, empty eye sockets rolling over each of them. With a sound like dozens of stones falling atop one another, the two colossi began to move forward. “Target the one in the back first,” Hain said as he reached for the blunderbuss on his back. “Duck around the one that gets here first and go for the one in the back so they’re forced to get entangled.” “Won’t that mean we’re stuck in between them?” Blade asked. “We’re already stuck between them,” Hain said as the colossus closest to them stepped down onto the stairs, its long, catlike body twisting and hugging the ground as it moved. She nodded. He was right. She could hear the telltale scrape of incoming skeletons even over the sound of the approaching giants or the rumble of the distant gun impacts. “Right,” she said, lifting her sword. “Might as well be on our terms. Take ‘em down, run for the door?” She glared at the oncoming skeletons, watching how they were moving. They looked almost like hunting wrathlions, their long bodies low to the ground like they were preparing to pounce. “What do we hit?” “Give me a minute,” Hain said, eyeing the pair. “It’s hard to tell what’s what with all that bone.” She nodded. She couldn’t blame him for the hesitation. The things were each sporting reinforced limbs, multiple bones making up each leg. The forward part of each body was raised, with its own set of multijointed, longer-than-average limbs extending out from oddly-jointed shoulders, a wide, long set of wicked looking talons at the end of each. Long wings wrapped across the back of each construct. Even the tail was longer than normal, with what looked like a spike of bone at the tip. “Well,” she said as the first of the pair slowed. “I hope it’s a short minute.” The lead skeleton leapt at them. “Go!” They broke in unison, Hain going right while she went left, Frost pausing just long enough to fire an icy missile into one of the thing’s three heads before following. Blade jumped as an unnaturally long pair of talons swept toward her, the tips scything through the air, and she noticed as they passed by beneath her that there were six of them rather than three or four. She hit the stone, ducking as the beast’s tail whipped by overhead, and from the corner of her eye she saw the long, multi-jointed wings begin to unfurl. It didn’t take longer for her to notice the way each wing had far too many joints, or the way each was laid out with fingers, like a bat’s rather than a griffon’s. Or the way each of the tips was decorated with another razor-sharp talon. Deadly at every angle, she thought as the thing’s tail whipped past again, this time narrowly missing her shoulder. Big, angry, and dangerous. The creature spun, its claws gouging the stone, but she was already out of reach, sprinting for the second of the pair, her legs pumping and wings snapping back for extra momentum. Hain was already leaping into action, his mace at the ready as he ducked under a vicious slash that likely would have removed his head from his shoulders had it connected. An arrow caught the beast in the shoulder, the bones jerking to a halt as ice filled in the space between the bones, pinning one of the arms. Blade jumped, thrusting her wings down and launching herself into the air, rising up to head level with her sword once more at the ready. She rolled as one of the creature’s limbs lashed out at her, throwing herself into a tight spin that brought her around the outstretched arm, her sword sweeping up— She jerked as something scraped across her side, skipping off of her armor plating and catching for just a second on the seam before tearing free. Her momentum altered, her blow skipped off of the skeleton’s arm, bone chips flying from the impact, but not hitting with nearly the force she’d hoped for. She angled her wings downward, dropping towards the stairs as the thing’s wings whipped back through the air where she’d just been. She landed in a crouch, her legs already folding under her like coiled springs as the skeleton’s wing swung for her again, sharp-edged talons sweeping through the air with a faint whiff as they swept for her side. It was strange, she thought as jumped into the air, rising past the outstretched talons and bringing her sword up. Ordinarily battles were just so much shouting and grunting, exertion and effort making themselves known. The skeletons made none of that. They never shouted. They didn’t breathe. The only sound they made was the click of bone against bone when they moved. We’re in a battle, Blade thought as she brought her sword up, the metal striking the thin wing bones and snapping them like sticks. But it’s like we’re the only ones in the battle. She could hear the sound of Hain’s measured breathing, Frost’s fast-but-paced hoofsteps … even her own grunts as she danced around the flailing remains of the wing, her own pair pumping to keep her out of range as the jagged, splintered ends stabbed at her. But the skeletons were quiet. No cries of pain. No acknowledgement of fear, anticipation, or defeat. Now I know why the Tam sisters made their golems react a little bit, she thought as she darted in close, her blade whistling through the air and cutting through the base of the damaged wing with a satisfying crunch. The wing fell away, the bones scattering and cascading down the steps with a sound like dozens of falling marbles. “Duck!” She complied with Frost’s shout, kicking her wings up to add a little extra force to her descent and wincing as the skeleton’s tail slammed into her shoulder, the sharp point at its tip squealing across the metal as it passed. A blue bolt shot past the side of her head as she dropped, a missile fired from Frost’s bow striking home and immediately growing into a patchwork of ice clumps. This is insane, Blade thought as she kicked off of the skeleton’s side, lashing out with her sword to clip it in the back of the arm as she passed. This thing doesn’t even need to see us to fight us. One of the heads telescoped outward, the bones beneath it unfolding as it lunged towards her, beak snapping shut with a loud click as it barely missed her tail. She spun, her sword sweeping out in a flat, horizontal arc that cleaved the thing’s skull from its neck. It spun off into the room, the skeleton not even reacting to the loss. There was a moment’s warning as she felt the telltale currents of the air, an incoming breeze on her wings that was far too quick to react to, and then something slammed into her back, driving her down to the ground and slamming her into the stone steps hard enough that she felt her armor dent inward along her sides. The weight was gone almost as quickly as it had come, and she lunged forward, her claws scratching against the stone as the first skeleton—the one they’d ducked around at the start of the engagement—brought its hand down once more. Talons scraped at her hindquarters, hot pain spreading across her haunches as several of them found purchase, digging into her flesh and tearing at the muscle beneath. But the damage was superficial, the attack too late, and she turned, juking as the skeleton stepped forward, its claws and wings spread wide. Where was Frost? She’d been behind them, hadn’t she? Had the skeleton gotten her—No, there she was, off to the side of the stairway, up but shaking her head like she’d suffered a nasty blow. Blade juked, dodging as both the first and second skeleton decided that she was their primary target, each reaching out with taloned hands and forelegs and striking in short, rapid movements. Bone scraped across her armor as several of the attacks struck home, and she repaid them in kind, her sword making short, unwieldy cuts. Cuts it wasn’t designed for, but cuts nonetheless. “Hain!” she cried as she narrowly dodged another attack. “Any ideas?” There was a loud crunch, followed by a sound like a tree splitting, and the claws that were coming for her went off course, the skeleton lurching to one side as its entire footing shifted. “The hips!” Hain called, another crack echoing his words as his mace struck home. “Hips and rear pelvis! Immobilize them!” “Got it!” she called, taking advantage of the distraction to step forward and sink her blade deep into the off-balance skeleton’s front leg. Two of the three bones that made up the lower part of the leg shattered, the aged bone unable to take the weight that was being asked of it and resist her blow at the same time. A trio of rapid-fire arrows shot over her head, all of them hitting the mobile skeleton, and Frost jumped past her, bow chipping at bone as she struck again and again. The first skeleton leapt at her, and she pushed herself up, pushing down with her wings and hind legs and ignoring the searing pain that came with the motion. The thing shot past below her, all three heads tracking her as its wings sprang to their full extension. So intent was its focus on her that it barely seemed to notice as its chest slammed into its sibling, the impact knocking the already weakened skeleton further off balance. A flash of white caught her eye as she rose, and she turned to see new—but thankfully ordinary—skeletons pouring into the room along the upper levels. Reinforcements had arrived. And, she noticed, her eyes widening in alarm, they weren’t moving to engage. They were spreading out, taking up familiar lines along the upper levels … and they had bows. Thunderheads, she thought, a chill rolling down her spine. We need to go! There was a shout from below, and she jerked her eyes downward just in time to see the more wounded skeleton lift Frost in one bony hand, its long, sinuous tail pointing right at the mare even as she lifted her bow to strike back. Blade dropped, kicking herself downward as the tail pulled back, readying itself to stab at Frost, and then— An ear-shattering roar filled the room, a deafening boom as Hain fired his blunderbuss into the skeleton's back at almost point-blank range. The torso of the skeleton exploded outward as the shot tore through it, a cloud of dust and bone chips spraying across the atrium.  The sound hadn’t even faded from the room when the skeleton began to crumble, its bones coming apart as the enchantment that had held them together dissipated. Frost fell to the ground, kicking the remains of the skeletal hand that had held her away. That still left one colossus. Blade angled her drop, pushing herself down faster with a quick kick of her wings and pointing her sword out in front of her like an avenging lance. She slammed into the skeleton’s back, ignoring the rake of its wings as they skipped over her sides, and punched the claymore right into the construct’s spine, just above where its shoulders were. The thing shuddered, trembling as she ripped the blade free, and then it came apart, Blade jumping free as it collapsed in a cascade of bones. “Hip, huh?” she said as she landed, glancing at Hain. He shrugged, his eyes turning towards the skeletal archers lining the upper half of the room. “I can’t be right all the time,” Hain said, tossing the now-spent blunderbuss aside and running for the door as the archers released their first shots. Blade darted forward, sheathing her sword in one quick motion as she ran for the top of the stairs, Frost just ahead of her. The first of the arrows ricocheted off of the stone around them, pinging off of the stone, and she increased her speed, tucking her wings tightly against her body and trying to provide as small a target as she could. Twelve steps to go … nine … seven. Her flank was burning, and she gritted her teeth as she felt a sharp pain dig into her wing, and then another into her shoulder. Two steps. An arrow ricocheted off of her armor. She could see another sticking out of the ice of Frost’s flank. Hear the sound of dozens of bowstrings twanging as more and more missiles filled the air. And then they were through, running down a long, slowly rising hallway, arrowheads hitting the stone behind them with a sound like rain drumming a tin roof, a hundreds of little clicks that echoed off of the walls. “Hold up for a second,” Blade said, skidding to a stop and glancing at her back. Just as she’d thought, there was an arrow sticking out of her wing, and another had found its way between the armor. She could feel blood oozing out of the wound, hot and sticky as it spread across her coat, matting the fur. The wounds the skeleton had given her were still bleeding as well, and she could feel the tickle of blood working its way down her leg from the wounds on her haunches. There was no time to be subtle or clean. She reached back and grabbed the arrow shaft, biting back a scream as she tugged at it. She could feel the head pulling against her flesh, resisting her attempt to remove it—and then muscle parted, new blood spilling out of her side as she tossed the bloody missile aside. The one in her wing was both easier and harder. She pushed it through, ignoring the lance of fire that rolled down the limb as the arrowhead came out the other side. The top part of the shaft broke with a quick snap, and she wrapped her claws around the bottom half and tugged it the rest of the way through, digging into the slick wood to keep her purchase. The last arrow came out without any trouble, only a portion of the head wedged in her shoulder. Frost was eyeing her with what looked like a newfound respect, and she could see Hain’s nod even as she reached into her combat harness and pulled out her last two potions. Healing and Blood Restoration, she thought as she quaffed the first. Almost immediately the familiar burning sensation swept over her body, her wounds sealing themselves shut. She nodded at Hain. “Let’s move.” She would swallow the Restoration potion on the run. Hain nodded, and the three of them began to run once more, heading up the long, level pathway. The ubiquitous green light wasn’t the best for seeing by, but she could make out something up ahead … a small alcove? A dead end? She wasn’t sure. The Necropolis shook underfoot, trembling as something rumbled through it, and she paused, slowing. “You guys feel that?” “Feel what?” Hain asked, his wings flaring slightly as he turned back to look at her. The feeling moved through the ground again, a faint, jerking sensation. “That,” she said, coming to a stop and looking back down the hallway the way they’d came. “The vibration.” “Isn’t that the frigate guns?” Frost asked. Blade shook her head as she felt it again, this time mixed in with the more regular fire of the distant frigate impacts. “No,” she said. Again she felt it, and this time it was stronger. “It’s off-beat. Irregular. It’s something else.” “Return fire?” Hain asked, though she could see the thoughtful look of curiosity on his face. He was as unsure of his answer as she was. She felt it again, stronger still. “No …” she said. Something was tugging at her consciousness, a feeling that she’d missed something. What was it? “No,” she said again. “That’s not it.” The rumble came again. Noise. That was what she’d missed. She looked back down the way they’d come as her eyes widened. It wasn’t just a rumble she could feel. She could hear the impacts, hear a faint scrape of something moving towards them, coming closer and closer. Nothing followed us right away, she thought as something moved to block the distant opening, something dark and massive, far larger than anything they’d faced so far. They were waiting for this. The thing surged forward, the stone vibrating underfoot as something long and sharp and wicked looking bit into the stone. “Run!” She turned, sprinting up the hallway as fast as she could, snapping her wings back to give herself a quick burst of speed. She could hear whatever it was getting closer, its bones scraping against the walls. The hallway ended as they spilled onto a level, rectangular stone platform sitting in a vertical shaft. Blade skidded across the slip stone, bouncing off of the back wall as she came to a stop and turning her eyes upward. The top of the shaft was blocked, sealed off by a stone door. Whatever was coming after them … She brought her gaze back down, her insides watering slightly as she saw the figure clawing its way up the hallway towards them. It was a dragon. Or at least, the remains of one. It was pulling itself up the hall with its forepaws, claws as long as her legs digging into the stone, dragging a skull made of bone so black it could have been obsidian closer and closer. The jaws were open, and she could see dozens of teeth gleaming with a green sheen as the light rolled over them. Each lunge was bringing it closer and closer, covering almost a dozen feet at a time. “We have to open that door!” she shouted, glancing around the small chamber as the rumbling underfoot grew even more intense. The dragon was only a few dozen feet away now, and closing fast. “Controls! A handle! Anything!” “Here!” Frost called, slamming her hoof into a small, glowing image hanging in the corner of the chamber. Her hoof hit stone, passing through the image, but Blade felt something jerk underneath them as the platform began to rise. It’s an elevator! Blade realized. The dragon, as if recognizing that its prey was getting away, lunged forward, its skeletal paw slamming into the platform and carving deep grooves in the stone. The elevator continued to rise for a second, the gap to the hallway shrinking, but then jerked to a halt as the back of the dragon’s paw slammed against the edge of the opening. For a moment everything seemed to freeze, and she could hear the thick bone creaking as it fought to resist the movement of the stone. Through the gap she could see the widening jaws, the other paw rushing towards them with its claws extended—and then the elevator won, the dragon’s bones exploding into dust and fragments that shot across the platform as the stone rose upwards with a jerk. Blade let out a sigh of relief as the massive claws tumbled to one side, the bones that had held them together falling apart. “Let’s hope that thing can’t come back around and find us some other way,” she said, lifting the Restoration potion and giving it a quick quaff. “And that we’re getting somewhere,” Frost added, bits of her armor dropping to the floor. They were nearing the stone door now. “We have to be,” Blade said as the door above them began to open, the stone platform slowing. A faint white light was coming from beyond it, reflecting off of what looked like a pyramidal ceiling. “Get ready, we don’t know what—” The wall of grey swept over them without warning, slamming them to the side of the shaft just before the elevator reached the top, and Blade felt her limbs freeze, her body paralyzed as a familiar, chilling sensation of terror raced through her. She couldn’t push herself up, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but gibber in horror as image after image raced through her mind, making her want to scream over and over again until her throat exploded. “To expect?” Anubis asked, lowering his staff with a smirk. The immortal was standing atop a raised, ringlike control deck with what looked like control consoles around it, a throne at his back, and behind that, a massive, eight sided piece of crystal throbbing with pent up power. “You know, that was actually a little disappointing,” the immortal said, lowering himself into his seat and giving them all a smile. “I mean, if I’m honest. I kind of expected you to expect that, you know? I had this whole thing planned  and …” He shook his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you’re here, and you’re going to be a very attentive audience.” The potion, Blade thought, the one sane part of her mind screaming out at her body to respond. The potion! “You came all this way, and I have to admit I’m impressed,” Anubis said, still smiling, but there was no warmth in it. Just cold, calculating smugness. “And as a reward, I’m going to show you what this thing is really capable of. And then,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “I’m going to kill every last one of you.” *        *        * He was floating. He wasn’t sure where, or when, or how. He just knew that he was. He opened his eyes—or at least he tried, he couldn’t quite be sure if they were already open or not. Maybe they were closed. But then again, if they were closed, wouldn’t everything be dark? It definitely wasn’t that. Instead everything was light, bright and brilliant, light so vibrant and clear he almost felt like he’d been blind, that he’d never truly seen before. He opened his eyes, shut them, and then opened them again. If anything, the light grew brighter, warmer. He could feel himself resting in it; being cradled by it. Its touch was soft, and as he took a breath, he could feel the warmth moving down through him, like the heat of a gentle fire, only calmer and, if possible, warmer. He could feel it swelling inside him, building, and then, just before it could become completely overwhelming, it slowed, holding inside his chest, warm and alive and unlike anything he’d ever felt before. No, he realized after a moment of thought. No, he’d felt it before. He knew the feeling. It was the same thing he’d felt as a small colt when his mother had wrapped him in her hooves and held him close. The same thing he’d felt when his father had engulfed him in a warm hug. It was that feeling, only a hundred times more powerful, a hundred times more intense, almost overwhelming in its power and ferocity, yet so gentle it was responding to his every touch. It was love. Love like he’d never felt before. Maybe it wasn’t even love. It almost felt beyond the word, something that shouldn’t ever be touched by it, like a cloud forever out of reach. But no, it was love, folding itself around him and permeating through him, holding him. Love, stretching away in all directions all around him. Names flashed to mind; ponies, griffons, beings he had known, and his eyes opened wide as a single, clear realization swept through his mind. He had died. He was dead. Tears swelled at the corners of his eyes. He was dead. That was why he wasn’t breathing. That was why he was … Well … he didn’t know where. Thoughts began to pull together in his mind, images and sounds sweeping out of the corners of his consciousness. I died. I failed. It was over. I … I died. This is death. He felt a faint tinge of shock as the concept sunk home. I’m dead. The warm feeling inside his chest seemed to fade a little, supplanted by … disappointment? Yes, disappointment. He’d failed. How he didn’t know, and at what he couldn’t remember, but he’d failed, hadn’t he? I failed, he thought. I let everyone down. I let me down. No. He paused. The thought had been in his mind, but it … wasn’t his? It had felt like it had come from somewhere else. No. He blinked, though he wasn’t sure it had any effect. He could still feel the tears in the corner of his eyes, but something felt different now. The feeling in his chest surged, the warmth building. But … He tried to shake his head as the feeling grew. He didn’t know if he did or didn’t. I failed. I let the team down. I let myself down. The feeling surged again, the warmth growing. No, he thought. I failed! I started being a soldier! I stopped being a doctor! I— He wanted to cry, wanted to let the tears go. But they wouldn’t come. I became—I became … He paused, his emotions swirling, spinning around themselves while the love waited patiently. He didn’t know how he knew it was waiting patiently. He just knew that it was. It was waiting for him. Somehow he knew it was waiting for him, the same way that he knew he was dead. What did I become? he thought. A soldier? But … No … Something about that answer didn’t feel right. He knew it the same way he knew about the patience. But I fought. I participated in battles! He felt a sense of shame swell up deep inside him. I used my curse for— No. He stopped again. What had it been? My—my cur— No. He couldn’t say how he knew, only that he did. It wasn’t a curse. It had never been a curse. It had been a blessing, a miracle, a one-in-a-million chance that should never have happened, a chance that let him save the lives of each of his fellow apprentices and his teacher. I saved them, he thought, something inside of him resonating. I saved them. Potions. Me. Alchemy. I did it to save them. To keep them alive. He’d always known it, but now it felt clear somehow, like he’d never quite realized it until now. The warm feeling in his chest seemed to swell a little more. I kept them alive. Just like … just like I’ve kept so many alive since then. Images flashed through his mind unbidden, memories pulled from who knew where becoming crystal-clear, so clear he could almost touch them. His fellow apprentices. The sapients he’d known on the ice dredgers. His family. Blade. Hain. Frost. Barnabas. But something felt … different. He was remembering himself speaking with each of them, fighting alongside them, but it wasn’t him doing the remembering. It was like … like he’d been looking at himself through glass his entire life, and now, for some reason, he was seeing him. Alchemy. The pony who’d been given an incredible gift. You never stopped, he thought. You were always trying to make the world a better place, to be a doctor. You just … His memory of the time he’d spent wandering to the Ocean of Endless Ice, the time he’d spent just confining himself to be a doctor, flashed through him. You lost your way for a while. The feeling seemed to swell inside him, the light around him growing brighter still, more vivid, more distinct. You never failed because you never stopped trying. He couldn’t say whether the thought had been his own or … You never stopped wanting to help those around you. You never hesitated to throw yourself into the path of danger, in front of those who would have done the world harm. You have been a doctor. The fire in his chest seemed to burn, hotter and more powerful than anything he’d ever felt, but it didn’t hurt. It felt … good. Wonderful even. Indescribable. You just needed to see it. The light was shifting now, becoming more clear. Something seeming to be shifting inside of it, vague shapes that seemed … warm … the same way everything else did. You have done well. They were figures, moving out of the light. Vague and indistinct, but at the same time alive and real. Smiling figures that felt … familiar somehow. Like he knew them. They were smiling, nodding, looking at him with pride in their eyes, and at long last, he felt the tears he’d been holding onto for so long began to leak down his cheeks. He knew them. They were family. Friends. Ponies he’d known who’d long since passed on, all smiling and standing in a line, waving at him and smiling. They were … younger … than he remembered some of them looking. But they were happy. He could feel it rolling off of them. Happy for him. And then he saw him. A figure, taller than the rest, stepping out of the light with a peaceful smile on his face, his massive arms and shoulders completely at ease, coming to a standstill behind the rest. Barnabas, he thought, his jaw dropping slightly in shock as the figure gave him a small wave. Oh, Barnabas … I’m so sorry, I— Barnabas held up his hand, shaking his head and still giving him the same peaceful smile. But— He shook his head again, rolling his eyes. Then he stepped forward again, right up close to him, so close he could feel his presence somehow. Alchemy’s tears felt hot on his cheeks as he looked up at the massive blue figure. I— A hand came down on Barnabas’s shoulder, another minotaur stepping up behind him and giving a gentle nod. She said nothing, but Alchemy knew who she was. Aeliana. He knew what it meant. Barnabas was at peace; with the sister he’d lost so long ago. Both minotaurs nodded, still smiling, and then Barnabas reached forward, and Alchemy could feel a hand settle on his shoulder. It’s alright. Alchemy felt his eyes widen still wet with tears as Barnabas smiled at him. Somehow, he just knew, that things were all right. Barnabas opened his mouth. “Take good care of Frost for us, will you?” he said, his voice ringing clear as day through Alchemy’s head. Alchemy gasped, air flooding into his lungs, and Barnabas smiled again. Then he pushed, and suddenly everything was black. He could feel again, feel the air rushing into his lungs, feel the cold table he was lying on, the tightness of the straps biting into his flesh, the fresh, hot tears that had rolled down his cheeks. The thunderous beating of his own heart. And most of all, he could still feel the warmth, though it was different now. The … presence … that he had felt was gone, but it didn’t bother him. The warmth that he felt was his. Mostly. There was a feeling to it, like the faint traces of dew left after the morning sun, a brightness to his soul that seemed unlike anything he’d ever felt. And beneath that, he could feel something new, something wonderful, something brilliant and beautiful unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life. It was like the power he’d felt in his chest after he’d taken a dose of his potion, but by comparison, that power felt weak. This was different. More vibrant. Unfading. It was complete. Then the world came back with a rush, and he was hearing voices all around him. “—can he be alive, doctor? You yourself assured me he was dead!” He knew that voice, though it took him a moment to place it. Sagis, leader of the Order of the Red Horn. “I said he was dead, but—and then you cut me off!” That voice belonged to Cell, the doctor who’d been experimenting on him. The one who’d poured the potion down his throat. “The potion was doing something to his corpse, that is why Edge and I were scanning him.” It was fixing me, Alchemy realized. All this time, I was broken, not because the potion was trying to kill me, but because I was never taking enough to let it finish the job! All I needed to do was … well … die. And he’d just done that. And he felt … alive. Very alive. And he didn’t feel the tiniest need for his potion. Someone was moving nearby, and he opened his eyes, the world jumping into crystal clarity. Sagis was standing over him, a furious grimace on his face. The stone behind him was unfamiliar, though still glowing green. They were still in the Necropolis then. “Cell, the rest of the potion,” Sagis said, his scowl growing more pronounced as he locked eyes with Alchemy. “We killed him once, we’ll do it again.” His eyes narrowed as Alchemy smiled at him. It won’t work, he thought as they pried his jaws open once more. He let them do it, almost. It felt like he could have resisted, could have slipped away if he’d wanted to. Even the straps that were holding him down didn’t feel like they could stop him anymore. Not because he was stronger—though he did feel like he was at his peak. But because … he wasn’t sure why, but he knew that if he wanted to, they straps wouldn’t matter anymore. The last of the potion poured down his throat. They didn’t even have to force him to swallow, he drank it willingly. Nothing. He felt it hit his stomach, felt it sift its way into his bloodstream and simply … cease. He was cured. He didn’t need it any more. “He’s not doing anything,” Sagis said. “Cell, he’s supposed to be dying!” “Perhaps more study would be in order,” Cell said, stepping up to the side of the table. Alchemy glanced at him, mulling things over in his head as the doctor began to go into a long-winded explanation of what studies he could do on Alchemy now that he was back. The warmth was fading now. In its place was a more familiar sensation. Anger. They had killed him. Had killed who knew how many others. And now they were talking about killing him again. After they’d experimented on him more. No. He tensed his muscles, feeling them flex and shift. Not this time. Not ever again. “No,” Sagis said. “I don’t like it. Kill him again and let’s move!” “But—” Cell protested. “No arguments!” Sagis said, turning and moving down the hall once more. “Kill him and let’s go. Make sure he’s dead this time.” Cell turned to look down at Alchemy, offering an almost apologetic shrug. “Well,” he said as his horn hefted a familiar looking blade. “I suppose we’ll see exactly how long you hold out this—” The world shifted as Alchemy moved, much like it did when he was using his abilities to move far faster than would otherwise be possible, except this time it was different. He didn’t just move, he moved, space sliding around him, the world bending and pinching—just like a unicorn’s teleport spell, he realized, only shorter, more abrupt, and localized just on him. Cell stared at him in shock, his jaw open in disbelief as he took in the sight of Alchemy standing next to the table. Each of the nearby cultists seemed just as stunned, their eyes wide, some switching to anger as they realized what had happened. “What—?” It was all Cell said. Alchemy stepped forward, so quick he could feel the resistance of the air on his coat as he lashed out, his hoof catching the unicorn in the side of the head. Cell flew back, his head slamming into the wall with a hard clunk, and a for a moment, the rest of the cultists froze in shock. That was for every pony you ever hurt or planned to, he thought as he felt for his power. It was still there, diminished a little, but he could feel it renewing itself. It always would be, now. The doctor’s heart was still beating, but he was out cold. Alchemy turned, his eyes snapping between the unicorn’s aide, and the other four members of the cult. “Lo—” Fine Edge never got the chance to finish his sentence, Alchemy darted towards him, his outstretched hoof catching the unicorn square on the underside of the jaw so hard it lifted his body into the air. He was already moving away even before the unicorn’s front hooves finished leaving the ground, the air rippling around him as he dashed over to the nearest cultist, his shoulder slamming right into the mare’s chest. He bounced back, changing directions and cracking his elbow into another unicorn’s jaw. The world seemed to be moving at a quarter the normal speed, or maybe even slower, and he jumped, kicking out with both hind hooves and catching the airborne Edge in the gut. Then it was over, Edge slamming into the other two cultists and sending them both crashing into the wall as the first two slumped to the ground. The two Edge had hit didn’t get up. “You.” The voice was so tinged with hate it was almost tangible, a slimy, sleazy ooze wriggling through the air. Alchemy looked up from his hoofwork, standing tall as his eyes lacked with Sagis’s. “Yes,” Alchemy said, nodding as he dropped into a ready stance, Makucha ya Paka steps flowing through his mind like water. He could feel his energy—his own, long-lost earth pony magic, he realized, now changed into something new—renewing itself beneath him. He raised a hoof. “Me.” “You have no idea what you’re up against, mud pony,” Sagis said, his red horn lighting with a virulent, purple glow. Bubbles of nothing seemed to ooze from it as the red unicorn lowered his head slightly. “I am Lord Sagis, Master of the Order of the Red Horn, and the most powerful among their ranks. And now,” he said, stepping forward, the glow on his horn building. “I will end you.” Alchemy gave him a slight smile. “Interesting.” The confident look on Sagis’s face melted slightly. “What?” “Well, first,” he said, lowering his weight just a little more and preparing to spring. “It’s not worth much to say you’re the most powerful unicorn in the Order anymore. I think you’re the only one left.” Sagis’s lips pulled back in a snarl, the light around his horn beginning to pulse. “And honestly?” Alchemy shrugged. “I’ve got a hunch I might be one of the more powerful earth ponies around out there. Kind of fitting, that.” With a snarl, Sagis’s horn flared to full life, a beam of pure purple-and-nothing blitzing down the hall at incredible speed. Alchemy leaped, pushing his body up and to the side, kicking off of the wall as the beam rushed by beneath him. Sagis twisted, firing again, this time something hot and bright, and once again Alchemy made the world around him shift, warping his body several feet to the left and kicking off of the wall again. Sagis’s eyes widened. “Impossible!” He teleported, vanishing as Alchemy threw a hoof through the space where he had just been. Something tingled along his back, and he ducked, another purple-and-nothing beam stabbing through the air where he had just been. There was a loud shriek as it hit the wall, and a chunk of the stone vanished. He spun, dropping below a fireball and bolting at what felt like an unreal speed back down the hall towards Sagis, who was standing next to the rest of the cult. Or at least, what was left of them. His beam had … disintegrated a number of them, Cell included. Cruel, Alchemy thought as he slid under another blast, rising into the air with an uppercut as he reached Sagis. A magical shield rang as his hoof bounced off of it. Arrogant. He threw himself to the side, his body moving with an ease and speed far beyond normal, taking with it a portion of his magic, and Sagis’s counterattack—a trio of green bolts—blitzed through the air where he’d just been. Uncaring. Unfeeling. He lashed out again, pressing the attack with a series of rapid blows that shattered the magical shield. Sagis threw himself back with another spell, Alchemy’s hoof narrowly missing his muzzle. Interested only in himself, at the expense of all others. He dove forward, darting around bolt after bolt, some of them green and pulsing, others purple and cold, still more blue and jagged. The blue ones changed direction as they moved past, suddenly coming at him from all sides, and he jumped, his body spinning with all limbs extended, somehow avoiding every single one of the them. He landed still moving, rushing forward only to be blown back by a barrier that expanded outward, pushing everything in the hallway back. It threw him into the air, and he kicked off of the ceiling, dodging another attack and rushing along the floor towards the cult leader. The unicorn vanished as Alchemy neared him, disappearing from view. He spun, spotting the cult leader back the way he had came, rearing up with another spell already at the ready. The unicorn let out a wordless yell of rage, slamming both front hooves down into the ground, lightning lancing from his horn to the stone as his hooves touched. The ground exploded, a rippling wall of explosions shooting up the hall at him as the stone itself seemed to break apart, fire and bits of stone ripping free in a swelling wave of destruction. There was no safe way through it. He turned and ran, the stone shaking beneath him as he pushed himself to stay ahead of the oncoming shockwave. He could feel the heat and fury of the explosion, see the small fragments of stone whizzing past as they were propelled by the roaring blast. And then it was gone, a terrible stillness settling in its wake as he slid to a stop and turned to look. The hallway had been annihilated, the stone cracked and broken into dozens if not hundreds of scattered pieces. Part of the green glow that had illuminated everything had faded, though there was still enough of it left active that he could see the hollow space directly in front of Sagis that the unicorn’s attack had blasted out, a space wider and larger than the rest of the hallway, littered with broken rock. They locked eyes once more, Sagis’s horn glowing, and Alchemy bolted forward. The unicorn reacted immediately, his face twisting as he lifted dozens of broken stones in his magic, flinging them down the hall in a wave of debris. Alchemy tapped into his own magic, speeding his body as he darted around the projectiles, snapping from point to point and even at one point pausing to slam his hoof into a cracked and broken oncomer, shattering it. Sagis screamed, more stones lifting into the air and flinging themselves at Alchemy. He twisted, kicking off the rubble as he jumped, spun, and ran down the hall. Bolts began to fly at him, mixed with the stone, and he threw more variance into his route, the projectiles colliding with one another as he dodged. “Die!” The word was so ragged, so filled with vile and hate, that it rolled over Alchemy like a blow, a wall of anger and hatred rolling through his soul. He shook his head, pressing it away as he continued forward. The ceiling shifted and then collapsed downward, a mountain of stone rumbling down at him in one giant avalanche as the level above him gave way. He shifted, the world bending around him just enough to get him out of the first few stones’ paths, and then he was racing towards Sagis once more, the roar of the collapsing hallway filling the air behind him. The ground shifted, and Alchemy jumped to one side as the very stone Sagis was standing on lifted into the air, rocketing upward. All around him other stones were doing the same thing, even as the dust and rock settled from the collapsing of the hallway, lifting high into the air and orbiting around a central figure—Sagis—as he floated up into the now much more open space. He’s tiring, Alchemy realized as he leapt upward, kicking off of the wall and landing atop one of the outermost stones. The orbit shifted, rocks spinning towards him, his own flipping to its side as Sagis attempted to grind him between the pair. He pushed off, jumping out into the air and tucking himself into a roll. Then he kicked off of the next stone, launching himself further into the air and narrowly missing a barrage of green bolts that blasted out from the center of the tornado. He jumped again, and again, each time kicking off of one of the rocks and moving his way towards the center. He could feel his own internal magic starting to near the empty point. Both he and Sagis were running out of time. The question was who would run out first. He sprang off another stone, dodging another volley of bolts as he changed direction, and then kicked off a final, smaller rock above Sagis, drawing his hoof back as he dropped down towards the unicorn. The cult leader vanished with a flash of light, and Alchemy landed in the vacant space left by the unicorn’s teleport, his head twisting as he searched for the telltale flash of Sagis reappearing. There! Sagis appeared some distance away, atop another rock, and almost immediately the stone beneath Alchemy began to fall. He jumped, pushing himself towards another and noting that it was falling as well. Almost a third of the stones were dropping to the ground. Sagis was wearing out. He kicked off, pushing himself into the whirling maelstrom of rock once more and leaping from stone to stone, dodging smaller, faster ones as they whizzed past him. From the center of the maelstrom, Sagis looked up at him with a snarl, firing his magic once more—not bolts this time, but burning, sweeping beams that heated the stone they hit until the surfaces cracked apart, sending red hot fragments flying through the air. He kept moving, juking, dancing around the cult leader, getting closer and closer until, in a pause between one of the beams, he struck. Sagis teleported again, but this time Alchemy was ready. He jumped before the stone he was on had even begun to fall, moving towards the flash with only one goal in mind. Stop. Sagis. No more beams. He could see the ragged look in the cult leader’s eyes, the shallow way he was drawing in breath. He knew how he felt. He could feel his own chest moving in and out, his magic growing low. He has to have one last trick, he thought as he ducked around another stone, moving closer and closer as the cult leader watched. He’s holding something in reserve. It was now or never. He pushed off of the final boulder, arcing towards Sagis, and the unicorn looked up, a grey aura surrounding his horn. Alchemy could feel the prickle of magic as a telekinetic field began to cling to him, began to slow him, twin boulders rising out of the darkness to crush him between them. He could feel his momentum beginning to halt, feel the touch of Sagis’s magic, weak but just enough to slow him, feel it like water pushing against his body, and then— He pushed back, the last of the magic inside him shooting outward and around him, and Sagis’s spell rolled past him as he moved through it, the two boulders crashing and grinding behind him with a titanic bang. Sagis’s eyes opened wide in shock, and then Alchemy’s hoof slammed into his jaw. The unicorn crumpled, and with it the stones he was holding began to fall. Alchemy felt his gut lift in free fall, and then he was slamming into the ground, his legs buckling beneath him as his hooves slammed into the still crashing stone platform. For a moment he could hear the rumble of settling rock, and then all was silent save for the sound of his and Sagis’s labored breathing. He hurt, and he felt like he’d drained every bit of his power, but he was alive. And uninjured. And, as he rose and stepped towards the once grand leader of the Order of the Red Horn, he could feel his magic already starting to trickle back. “You …” Sagis said, pushing himself up with shaking legs as he stared at Alchemy. His breath was coming hard, much harder than Alchemy’s. “You can’t …” he said, shaking his head slightly. “My magic … You … You’re not … You can’t …” His eyes seemed to focus on Alchemy, his head finally stilling as he gave him one last defiant look. “What are you?” “I’m an earth pony,” Alchemy said, stepping forward. “Also a doctor. And today?” He lifted his hooves and lunged. “Today,” he said, planting one hoof at the base of Sagis’s horn, the other at the top, “I’m going to perform an amputation.” There was a snap, followed by a loud, splintering crack as he wrenched his hooves inward, snapping the cult leader’s horn off at the base. Sagis let out a loud, echoing scream, as he reared back, his own hooves coming up and feeling the broken remnants of his horn. He didn’t scream for long. Alchemy reared back and slugged him again, his hoof cracking into the side of the cult leader’s head. Sagis’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and he slumped to the stone, unconscious. And so, Alchemy thought, stepping back and tossing the shattered horn off into the darkness. Thus ends the Order of the Red Horn. The stone rumbled underhoof, and he turned, looking down the ruined hallway. Then, after a moment’s consideration, he turned and ran, leaving Sagis’s motionless form lying among the ruins of the hall. There was still one more foe to be stopped.