Anodra, Bemola, and even the cowardly Natos dive toward me, their faces angled down in order to face the least amount of resistance of the air-like substance around us. The threat widens my eyes, and I flip through the four figures rapidly before settling on one.
It's an instant decision, one that takes place in only fractions of a second. Lily can only kill one at a time before digesting the vitality that she consumes from the creature. So, I need to choose one to shoot.
And it's not Timemi.
She's a threat, but I don't think she is the biggest one. No.
That trophy lies with Bemola. The way her eyes stare at me, chilled and heartless, warns me of her strength. She's grown the most of them all since I last saw her. Their interaction with Bonfire must have hardened them all in a way, but none more so than the demon of ice. Plus, she wouldn't be alongside Natos, a demon that even Aniwye has mentioned to me before if she wasn't supremely talented. Natos is, after all, Leviathan's chosen prodigy. And something tells me I won't be able to hit the demon of light.
My arm twists through the air, aiming up at her while the three dive to aid Timemi. A quiet voice in my mind, Lily, tells me to shoot, but I wait. I wait until they get closer to pull the trigger, lessening the chance of something stopping the round.
I'm confident in Lily's ability, but there are many things in this world that I do not understand.
So I wait until they are close enough that Timemi hollers for them.
"Focus on the Graves! I'll look out for the hidden one! Natos, you, too!"
Light beams from Natos as he illuminates the dark cavernous abyss, but it still doesn't reveal Virgil. The man is likely still in the Otherworld, keeping one foot in reality. But as the light fills my eyes, I meet Bemola's and pull the trigger.
I can see her face contort in alarm, yet all she can do is throw an avalanche of ice between the two of us. It falls with calamitous strength, threatening to crush my puny size.
The Blooming Spider Lily cares not for such obstacles. She seeks only life and the soul.
As always, Lily's report of gunfire exists with only the barely-heard fall of a petal. It's not nearly close to being audible within this disastrous place, but I sense it nonetheless. Fueled by a force beyond the physical, the bullet that, only at my current strength can I even perceive, pierces through the crystalline barrier without leaving a mark. I don't see the bullet impact Bemola, but I can feel it. A visceral sensation overtakes my limbs as Lily unleashes a river of flickering darkness, a spectral link that connects Bemola and me.
As the ethereal current flows, life is siphoned from the demon and forced into my bones. A surge of revitalizing energy courses through me, a wind of strength that breathes life into my weary form. She even sends some to Blodwyn, earning a thanks of relief from the Arca. The darkness becomes a wellspring of power, knitting together my worn-out essence. Yet, it is not infinite. Lily shouts for me before falling silent as she tends to the brewing Vigor she has siphoned.
"I think I got her! Watch out, though! Demons have loads of life to spare! Give me one moment! I'll be out!"
Simultaneously, the weight of the Colt in my grip shifts, and I discern that a bullet has vanished from the chamber. The once-heavy firearm now feels lighter, signaling the loss of one of the four bullets that had remained. I'm left with three, but the sacrifice is a fair trade for the newfound vigor coursing through my veins and Bemola's potential death. I suppose she needs a little to digest the vitality of a demon before she can manifest.
Still, Bemola's ice falls for me, and as I hear her companions shouting in surprise, I extend my Living Manacles, grasping on the wall for a moment to pull me away from the tumbling ice. I slide past the icy exterior before it crashes into the wall below me.
I kick off the wall but still end up with fragments ice slamming into me as it impacts and practically explodes off the wall. Lifting my prosthetic in front of my face, I crash through it all, flipping in the air after the collision.
As I recover from the impact, blades, and shards of steel, soar after me, Timemi screaming her lungs off while holding an unmoving body. She actually seems... upset?
"WHAT DID YOU DO!?"
I block several shards with my chains and my hands, but they just don't stop. At least the other two of the Quartet seem far less angry. They still are, though. Perhaps I misjudged Timemi. Maybe she was the most caring of the four.
Beams of light tear through the air toward me, and I have no chance of dodging or deflecting them. Burning holes appear in my clothes as the radiance sears into my flesh. Fortunately, it doesn't go too deep. Unfortunately, there are many more to come.
I flip over, facing my back to Natos, who is above me, and stare at Timemi. Looking closely, I find that Bemola isn't dead. Her chest is nevertheless moving, but she seems significantly weakened. Her limbs are limp and flailing through the wind.
At least Lily got her out of the fight. Tilting my head toward Timemi, I dive toward her just as those above me did to reach me. She glares at me with hate but does the same, entering the depths as fast as she can.
All the while, she hurls steel at me from her flesh that orbits back around faster than either of us to stab me in the back. It's brutal by itself to protect myself from her, but Natos only manages to make it more difficult. To give me some reprieve, a lithe girl appears beside me, grinning despite the light piercing through her skull. Lily frowns as she yells at Natos.
"HEY! That hurts!"
Lily waves her hand, firing leaves composed of some kind of water, forcing the three above to use Natos' newly formed web of light stretched around us to catch them. Onward, even with Lily's help, we fall. Seconds transcend into a whole minute of deathly freefall as the heat tears into my skin. Anodra is on my tail as well, but she's a close combat fighter. Fortunately for me, only someone like Lennon could manage that here so smoothly.
Twisting, I deflect a thrown dagger from Anodra, the force far beyond that of Timemi's usual blades. As I do so, however, I hear a strangled cry from below.
Again, I flip back over in the air with my Living Manacles. There, I discover Virgil wrapping an arm around Timemi as he plunges a dagger toward her chest. His scythe strikes on its own, spinning through the air toward Timemi's stomach.
Virgil's appearance is out of nowhere, like that of a reaper of Death. He comes and goes as he pleases, unbeknownst to any. Still, Timemi is not one to die so quickly. Metal explodes from her form, and blood is drawn from her chest and her leg as she barely redirects the disastrous scythe.
Timemi panics as she escapes from Virgil for a moment. Nevertheless, even escape isn't without a cost, as Bemola's throat is open from ear to ear. Timemi is unable to mourn her companion as there is something more pressing: her decaying leg. She doesn't hesitate and digs out the rotting flesh from her leg with a scalpel.
The Pygmy must know that the scythe is from Haen. Meaning she is aware of the terrible trait of it to detonate other wounds. What I didn't know is that if you create a new wound over the second, it doesn't work at all.
And... she is fucking pissed now.
"GET HIM, NATOS!"
After the failed execution of the Pymgy and the successful one on the demon, my friend attempts to enter the shadows with a Flicker, but a ray of light encloses him. It seems to freeze him in this reality, not letting him enter another. My heart skips a beat as I realize that Natos is Virgil's worst possible enemy. At the same time, I hear the whistling of fire and the vehement clash of blades from below.
We're almost at the bottom. I dive for Virgil while the light stabs into him, ignoring Timemi's frenzied retaliation. The radiance eats into my back as I fall into the way, and before we crash into the ground, I wrap my arms around Virgil, flipping in the air. Lily, above us, cares not for gravity as she keeps attacking them all, preventing any full-force strike from hitting me without some sort of deterioration.
Expecting the fall to break every bone in my body, I warn Virgil of what to do next. I can tell he's trying to listen, but his mask is already burned off, and he seems to struggle to use any of his Ether in the presence of Natos' light.
"Cover me while I heal!"
*****************************
Johnny 'Iron Consul' Caldwell
I stand before Canyon's bed, holding the old man's hand. I am not alone inside his bedroom, though, a shabby place that is unadorned by anything other than portraits of his family. Laura, along with many of Canyon's other descendants, line the walls.
There are almost fifty.
What a family spawned by this great-grandfather. He is their linchpin, their rock, their lifeblood.
I listen carefully as the aged man speaks to them. He wanted me in here. I will do so with respect. My hands are clasped behind my back, my head bowed, and my eyes lowered.
"I am sorry, Lissandra. I am sorry Steph could not have lived as long as I did. Your mother... she was the most wonderful woman I have ever seen. The day she died the greatest light in my life left. I... I wish to see her now, even if its within the gullet of Death. Take care of the family. Keep Laura grounded. Being a Sigiled is never good for the mind."
The Furious Mountain's face remains calm even as he addresses his family upon his deathbed. His eldest child, Lissandra, nods for the rest of her family, promising to do her best. Depressingly, though, his children are still quite aged. Lissandra is almost in her sixties. Without a Sigil... she's not all too long for this world. Another decade at most, I'd bargain.
Tears fall from her eyes. But it's not just hers. Every single person in this room, from Lissandra and her siblings, who are in their fifties, to Laura's youngest sibling, who is barely ten. They all bawl their eyes out. I simply stay quiet on the side of the bed.
That is until Canyon stares at me. His eyes are hollow; the mighty things they were only a few months ago are now faded and feeble. It is demoralizing to see just how much time ravages even the most potent figures.
I meet his gaze with a nod, but he cannot return it as he is so weak.
Two months ago, I'm confident he could have killed me with a quick fight. But he was holding on with all his might. Now? He has let it go, deciding to go peacefully with his family.
An honorable choice. I don't think it is one I could ever replicate.
"Watch over this city of mine, Johnny. Keep them safe. Keep her safe. I trust you with them. You are a guardian, just as I. We have failed countless times, lost countless friends and loved ones, yet we never lay down our blades. I entrust them to you. "
Canyon inhales a deep, hearty breath, one wreathed with ragged coughs that send Lissandra into a panic. Canyon gets his daughter off him by shaking his head slightly. I raise a hand to him, but his eyes and words tell me otherwise.
"I'm fine. We are wretched things, Johnny—men who fight against the darkness in a world that doesn't give a shit about us. But there are people in the world who do. Hold your head high. Keep that Colt ready. The threats that are to come will not be light. The battle at Onyx Gate is in full swing, but the war for humanity has only just begun. I am only disappointed I was born so late."
I nod to the man's wise words, feeling them to my very depths. Then, he pivots his eyes toward Laura, his protege. The only member of his family to take after him. She's good, strong enough to be famous throughout the Territories without her grandfather's name. But she's not quite there yet.
"Don't give up, dear. Tighten your fists. Steel your gaze. Harden your heart. Cifts don't buckle or waver before death. Not even their own. Do not show even one extra tear until I have passed. Not one."
Canyon's words to his grandaughter are few and relatively callous, but he quickly turns back to me.
"Place your Colt upon my skull, Johnny."
"What!?"
I cry out in shock while Laura jumps toward Canyon, only held back by her uncle. Canyon, however, simply smiles at me.
"You will take my Sigil after I die. Maybe not today. Perhaps not tomorrow, but someday. Heather's will lives on. All the most influential figures do. I do not want the sandy waves to take me. It is a coward's way out, I know, but I've always found comfort in the sound of a gun."
My eyes fall on his family. Many of them are crying or shouting at their patriarch to change his mind, but Lissandra merely nods toward me, holding onto Laura.
Sighing, I unholster Fate Sealer and place the barrel before Canyon's forehead. The old man meets his end without a hint of fear, only acceptance and hope.
"Take my artifact after I die. Use it to defend my lands until you can take the Sigil, Johnny. When you do, Heather will guide you onward. She has been gone for many years, but I reckon a new host will breathe some life into her mind. Haah... I cannot wait to join my beloved."
The last time I gave a mercy killing, I closed my eyes. It was a close friend, Nathaniel. He was going to die, stabbed a dozen times and bleeding out. But he was hurting so bad I put him out of his misery since there was no morphine to help.
"Do it. And... Johnny? No matter how miserable, keep the finger on that trigger and the barrel pointed in the right direction. If no one else is to save the world in their petty disputes, it shall be us. The world is not the land we live on. It is the people. The children. Do not let them die."
This time, I keep my eyes wide open, even as the blood and brain matter splatter into them. Muffled cries fill the room as the sound of Fate Sealer bounces off the walls, post-sealing the man's fate.
I gaze into Canyon's face, finding that only a tiny hole is posited into his skull, even from Fate Sealer's mighty round. His defenses, even upon death's door, are unbelievable.
Without this Lumen, there would be no way I could even hurt him.
A bashing of my back forces me to twist around as Laura screams at me, hitting me repeatedly but without any real force. I grasp her wrists and hold her still, gazing at her. She glares at me with anger, her voice losing motion with each word. She loses energy with each strike as if she doesn't mean what she is doing.
"You killed him! You killed Paw! How could you! He helped you so much!"
"You need to calm down. Take some days to mourn. Then you will see things with clear eyes. Come see me then. I will be waiting."
Laura sinks to the floor with an audible plop, and Lissandra holds her while looking up at me. She is disappointed, but she knew what was going to happen today. We all did.
"Leave his body here until the Arca appears. He won't decay, not with a body like that. Just... clean him up. I... I cannot."
I stride out of the room, barely managing to keep my cool, and close the door behind me. Then, I breathe in and out several times. Slowly. Very slowly. My heart is beating at a dangerous rate, threatening to burst, and I clamp down on it, gradually bringing it to a more reasonable level. The act takes an unknown amount of time, my eyes gradually clearing out the tears I didn't realize were forming.
Another legend is dead. How many remain? How many more will remain after today?
I continue after my small episode of anxiety, stepping through Canyon's abode and into the street. People walk all over even though it is night, having not even a semblance of a clue that their guardian has fallen. A few glance at the blood on my clothes, but recognizing me, they move on with their nights.
The sky above is dark, echoing my insides. I turn away from the streets, heading toward the Cift graveyard, where the stairwell exists. No one notices or takes heed of me throughout my walk. And in mere moments, I stand beneath Gravecross as a whole, striding toward Heather Graves' corpse. Something here is simply calling for me.
I reach the skeleton after stepping beyond the streams and the mushroom trees, finding the body unmoved, just as before.
But as I step up to it, the Stele's surface becomes reflective. It glows with some kind of power as I see myself inside of it. I cannot help but stop to regard myself.
The dark corners in my eyes, the weary face, and the depressed look. Blake left days and days ago. I couldn't stop her. I wanted to, but I couldn't even bring myself to try. Without her...
My days have turned into nothing but training, practice, and teaching. Skysword is doing well, though. She does want to rename herself after me, however, swapping to Skyshell. I don't know if her parents will let that one slide.
I run a hand across my face and over my hair. I'm getting old, aren't I?
Bits of gray are beginning to display themselves at the roots of my hair. Wrinkles peek out from my eyes and cheeks. Even my bones start to creak in the morning without Ether to support them.
How long until I'm one of those legends, just waiting to fall?
Is that all I want to be?
No.
My brows furrow as scenes replay in my mind through the mirror-like surface.
All the wars, the echoing and resounding gunfire. The clashing blades and spears, the rumbling Ether, and the trembling Powers. I used to run at the sight of an Angel on a battlefield, getting as far as possible from them. Now? I am them.
A whole lifetime of struggle, death, and violence roar through my mind in only an instant. It has been an unbelievably long road. For every triumph I grazed past, a dozen died. How lucky am I that I have survived to this point? How... how unfortunate am I as well? My fists clench the dirt beneath me, the soil escaping between my fingers. More and more sights rush through my mind as my aging brain recalls it all with perfect clarity.
From the first gun I ever drawed to the first man whose life I ended. It flashes ahead to my wife's death and halts for a moment on my daughter's. A shuddering gasp leaves my throat as the memories take a leap, plunging right into when I received my Absolution. Pain starts to soak into my mind as they skip forward again, the visceral memory of a figure more important than I could ever be Shattering The Sky. The reperucssions wash over me as if I was the one struck my that fist.
Then... experiences that were not mine scream haphazardly past my brain.
Scenes of nearly a hundred years ago, of a lone young man facing off endless foes from every direction. He trains incessantly, fighting non-stop. The instant he recovers from one battle, he moves on to the next, always alone, always without the comfort of another. He is a loner, a solemn warrior guided by the voices of the dead. He swiftly grows more robust and mighty than anyone expected, even capable of rivaling the greatest prodigy. Still, after a grand battle, a close one, too, he loses, ending up with part of the Endless within his form to forever plague him.
I stumble backward as all of Canyon's fighting experience melts and melds into mine. Then, it continues further, adding that of a millennia-old spirit. These, however, are aged and weathered with missing parts. Still, the battles waged by Heather Graves give me boundless insight into Ether. Ether and war, every aspect of the two, from hand-to-hand fighting to firing a gun.
It all coalesces and adds together.
I fall to my knees, holding my head as a pair of voices resounds within my skull before fading.
"I am Heather Graves. You shall take after me. You shall inherit my might. The Stele Of Life will take yours once you pass in exchange."
"I am Canyon Cift. You shall take after me. You shall inherit my might. The Stele Of Life will take yours once you pass in exchange."
Cradling my trembling brain, I realize why Canyon was so mighty in his youth. He wasn't just taught. He was bestowed the act of fighting. He was handed the way to manipulate Ether, the way to battle almost every foe, and the weaknesses of every race.
A fit of laughter bursts from me as I crumple onto my back. It goes from my core all the way to my nose, and I can't stop it.
Vincent fucking Harvey.
You absolute monster.
Your rival was a mishmash of a thousand-year-old Dominion and a man talented enough to become an Angel without her. And that nightmare combination lost to you.
I see now.
I only wish I had gained more than how to fight from these memories, particularly on their specific skills and Plasmic or Solid Ethers, but I suppose if I were given it all, my mind would implode from the information. Sighing, I place my hand upon my Colt, enjoying the comfort of steel. Perhaps over time, I can come back and learn the Ether portions.
This war has only started.
I think... I think I should be the one to end it, though. Or at least try.
Some things that we must do start with a simple wish. And of right now, I can only wish to be enough to stop the Gods, the demons, and all the other threats that are breathing down our throats. But... I will turn that wish into reality.