Captured Sky

‘Back! Back I say!’ Swinging his arm behind him, Aaron shouted the words as he too bid a hasty retreat.

The gravelled stones—the crumbled remains of the devastated subterranean city—rattled against one another as the ground trembled. An explosion of dust clouded the surroundings as the caved roof of the mausoleum crashed down completely.

Coughing into his arm, Havoc covered his face with his sleeve, clenched his eyes shut, and continued in his retreat. His foot caught on loose stone, causing him to stagger, but he did not slow in his blinded, backward paces; the guttural, buzzing whines from the still-collapsing mausoleum drove him to keep moving.

‘Aaron!’ Lucia’s voice called from within the cloud.

‘I know!’ Aaron yelled back.

A powerful gust of wind thrashed from behind, uncovering the blanket of dust. With a backwards glance, Havoc saw Aaron’s black and leathery wings beating back the storm. He rubbed the grit from his watery eyes, and when they opened, his sight was clear.

Complete was the fall of the mausoleum. Not a stone lay atop another. From the clearing of its demolition, a creature stood.

Light-green veins bulged from its sickly grey skin. The monster stood no less than twenty feet tall, its hollowed eyes blankly staring a pale-blue. Its legs were like trunks—stumpy and thick; its arms were pudgy and wide. With claw-like fingers, the monster scratched its translucent, potted belly and tilted its bulbous, infantile head down towards the party, beginning to wail once more.

‘Run?’ Ugly asked. Despite the nightmare before him, his tone was blunt. It carried only professional inquiry, holding none of the dread one would expect from the monstrous sight. To Havoc, it was reassuring.

Nothing too concerning then... Havoc’s slowing heart quickened again. Stoic as Ugly’s voice had been, his face was ashen.

‘There stands only one. This creature will fall,’ Aaron said, shifting backward even as his hands morphed into claws and scaled armour shimmered across his chest.

A further three grating screech cut through the air. The first two cries of the infantile creature were harrowing; wordlessly, they communicated malice and violence in their piercing tones. But the third sounded intent.

There’s no more time.

Havoc channelled Harmony to the Stone Guardsman. The world shimmered; from that distortion, a stone statue slowly manifested. From its feet to its shins, painful seconds past. After another three seconds, its knees could be seen. The Stone Guardsman was a powerful artefact, but in exchange, it was slow to form. Monsters—unrecognised for their patience—would not wait. The infant corpse charged.

If his heart was not thumping a storm between his ribs, the creature’s advance would have been a humorous sight. Stumbling and unbalanced, the monster walked—arms swaying to its side—in a forward wobble. The crumbled remains of the stone mausoleum crunched beneath its wide feet, its forward impression marked upon the ground.

‘Ugly, Lucia, attack from the flank. Havoc, be ready to defend,’ Aaron ordered, running to meet the encroaching threat.

Focused on the sluggish manifestation of the Stone Guardsman, Havoc did not notice when Naereah had taken to his side, but there she was. Her hand gripped his arm, and he felt her trembling.

‘Wh—what should I do?’ Naereah asked. her mouse-like whispers barely audible above the thumping of his heart in his ears. Barely turning his head he instructed her to stay close.

The creature swung a pudgy arm down at Aaron. Just as the young man was to be smeared onto the rubble, he extended his wings and flew backward. In a continued motion, he took to the sky. He soared to the monster’s peak, reaching eye-level with the beast, and breathed a stream of flames. So hot were the flames, waves of sweltering heat washed over Havoc.

The creature raised an arm against the flames. The acrid smell of rotting flesh mingled with the heat, wafting a stench unsettling to the stomach as the monster’s pallid skin blistered and bubbled. But almost as quickly as its flesh was being destroyed, it regenerated. As though made of living clay, the monster’s arm writhed to remould itself, clumping together to become whole again. With a sweep of it hand, it swiped at Aaron, bursting the torrent of his flames, pushing him into a graceless retreat.

Though his attack was ineffective, it distracted the monster long enough for Lucia and Ugly to position themselves on either side of the creature. From the left, Ugly launched his extending sword into the monster’s ribs, piercing its flesh and releasing a noxious fume from the incision. On the beast’s right, Lucia held two paper talismans between her finger. She threw the talismans to the creature. Morphing in flight, the paper shifted and rippled, each forming a wolf—one red, the other blue. The wolves stood six-foot tall on four legs, their muscular hinds bulged with strength. From Havoc’s vantage, he could see only their backs, but their claws jutted outward like sharpened knives.

At Lucia’s command, the wolves charged without hesitation. Their dagger-like claws tore through grey flesh, spilling rancid blood below.

Relief washed over Havoc as the Stone Guardsman manifested in full. Standing seven-foot tall, the coarse, grey statue, planted firmly with its shield raised above its head as if ready to defend. As if he had developed a new sense, Havoc felt the boundaries of the Guardsman’s power. Within a thirty-foot radius, he could create barriers of ethereal light.

No sooner did his power manifest before being forced to put it to use. Ignoring the wolves tearing at its regenerating side and Ugly’s long blade pushing deeper between its ribs, the monster dug its pointed fingers into its palm to form a fist. Thrusting its fist, aiming to splatter Aaron as he struggled to regain control of his flight, the monster’s devastating strike collided with a barrier erupting a concussive boom.

Eyes wide, Aaron glanced at Havoc. He shook his head, seeming to regain his composure. With a thrust of his wings, he distanced himself from the monster before breathing another stream of immolating fire into the creatures face.

‘Give no quarter, It cannot regenerate indefinitely!’ Aaron barked, his voice wavering yet still bearing defiance and authority in its tone.

As though finally noticing the clawing at its side, the creature glanced below—its eyes curious and wondering—and swatted Lucia’s wolves, tossing them backward in a whimpering roll.

Lucia threw herself to the ground, narrowly avoiding the crushing weight of her tamed beast. Grunting, she returned to her feet, turning to face Naereah.

‘Make yourself useful, will you!’ Lucia spat, her tone grating. ‘Fire fragment! Now!’ She screamed.

‘No!’ Aaron yelled, ducking below the creature’s grasp. ‘They will be of more use later!’ Sparing no further word, he swooped above and dived behind the monster, breathing plumes of fire down its back before righting himself in retreat.

Snorting, Lucia glared Naereah’s way, her lips scrunched tight in a sneer.

Worthless thing,” Lucia muttered. Without another word, she lightly slapped her cheeks, restoring the smile that declared all life a game. Her gaze lingered for a moment before returning her focus to the creature. Then, with a pointed finger, she spurred her wolves into a renewed assault.

The battle was nothing Havoc could call easy. Every moment was suffused with peril; each beat of the heart heralded the possibility of the last for at least one of the group. At times there were mere inches between a brush with death, and the life severing swipe of the reaper’s scythe, but through growing coordination, relentless attacks, and no shortage of luck, the party kept the monster pinned.

Entering a rhythm of attacking, defending, and tactically retreating, the party clawed, scorched and pierced the creature, wetting the ground in its sickly green blood. Though the beast continued to regenerate, it was doing so far slower—too slow to keep pace with its mounting afflictions. The creature did what it could—lashing out, it gurgled a furious battle cry—but its efforts were in vain. When Aaron flew too close to retreat, a protective wall of light would be there, guarding against the monster’s retribution. When Ugly moved too slowly to escape a crushing stomp, an arc of light appeared, protecting him from certain death.

Sweat stung his eyes, but Havoc could not lose focus; their dance with death demanded sharp chorography.

Forming a barrier between the lacerating, downward cut of the beast and Ugly’s head, Havoc smiled. Exhilaration was not a feeling he had expected when the battle began, but now it thrummed through him, undeniable and irresistible.

I’ve clawed my way from nothing to this, he thought, his grin widening even as sweat streaked down his face.

Powerless no more, even as the battle raged, he could feel his growth. Anticipating both the monster’s movements and that of his companions, from a distance, he orchestrated the symphony of conflict; both friend and foe danced to his tune. His barriers were wordless directives; his party moved in step, following his silent command.

He could do more with the Guardsman, he felt it. When Aaron offered the Remnant, he explained that its powers were purely defensive, but Havoc knew better. Having first laid eyes upon the statue, It had called out to him, whispering its secrets into his soul.

“Unmoveable shield, irresistible spear; we shall wield life and death over the battlefield.”

With a thought, he could shape his barriers into blades of phantom light. Lost in the thrill of bloodshed, he quivered with anticipation, the urge to unleash his power stirring his gut, coursing shivers down his spine.

Look at me now, he thought, grin wide, dualistic power surging his spirit chain. He reached out a trembling hand to shape the phantom blades, but paused.

Intoxicated with his power, he had edged toward foolishness. Looking to his companions as they unleashed the might of their Remnants, he was reminded that dungeon-spawn and Abominations were not his only foes.

They need to underestimate me when the time comes, he scolded.

Fist clenched in tight ball, he restrained the impulse to strike out with his power. No, his role in this theatre was to be gullible and meek, he was determined to play his part well. With a thought, he could have slayed the creature, instead, he positioned Aaron in the spotlight, perfectly placed for the finishing blow.

The monster collapsed to its knees, its cadaverous flesh torn, seared and pierced. In the moment’s reprieve, the reek of the creatures burned and rotten meat could no longer be ignored, it reached down Havoc’s throat, and he gagged on stench.

‘Do you wait for an invitation, darling? Make haste and do away with the wretched thing,’ Lucia said, neck craned upward to Aaron. Turning towards Naereah, her smile broadened. ‘Worry not, pet. I am referring to the cradlefiend,’ Lucia chuckled, watching as Naereah shrank back.

‘You don’t have to treat her like that,’ Havoc said, surprising himself with his words. He was not heartless, but he had enough to be concerned with—he did not intend to involve himself in the group’s petty dynamics. But as he spoke, his temper rose. Cruelty for its own sake...

I’m sick of it.

‘I do apologise,’ Lucia said, her tone dripping with mock sincerity as she lifted her skirt in an exaggerated bow. ‘Had I known you lacked any sense of humour, I certainly would not have joked.’

Havoc stepped forward, but Aaron cut him off, landing between them in a blur of motion. Arms outstretched, he held them apart.

‘This need not go any furth—‘ Aaron did not finish the sentence. Before he could say another word, the kneeling cradlefiend gargled a tortured cry. At first, it was met by silence. The silence did not linger.

Answering its call, thunderous roars boomed from the distance. The first roar was followed by a second in the opposite direction, and the second was followed by a third and a fourth.

The ground quaked, rattling Havoc’s bones. On the horizon, he could see them. Rising from the ground in every direction he turned, pallid, grey arms tore through the ground reaching up like towers. Slamming down, they gripped the rocky foundation, shaking the vast city-scape as they pushed themselves upward, unearthing colossal heads. The towering, corpse-like creatures continued their ascent, rising up like mountains, pulling themselves up to their chests. Their deep blue eyes focused on Havoc’s position. At first, it was as though they were gazing through him—their expressions vacant. But as the cradlefiend cried out again, their eyes narrowed. Fury, unstrained fury radiated from their stare as they bellowed a world shaking roar.

‘Run?’ Ugly asked. There was no hiding the panic in his quivering voice.

‘That would be wise,’ Aaron replied, his voice trembling.