Unbound

Chapter Three Hundred And Sixty Three - 363

Chapter Three Hundred And Sixty Three - 363

The Wraiths fought hard, moving like greased shadows in the confines of the sick room. Their emaciated forms looked like they could barely hold their own weight, but they left cracks wherever their feet slammed into the stone flooring. Blackened green Mana spooled off them in waves of vapor as they burned some sort of movement Skill, leaping off floor, walls, and ceiling to attack him from all angles at once.

Adamant Discord!

Lightning blasted off of him in all directions, a direct line to the chests of each Wraith. They were hurled back, hit hard enough by his power that they cratered the stone walls and coffered ceiling.

"You might be fast, but I'm faster," Felix growled. A closer Wraith swiped at his legs, but he kicked their talons away with his scaled foot, his own claws scoring its fleshless arm.

Adamant Discord!

Corrosive Strike!

This time he focused on a single Wraith, yanking it toward him and driving his fist through it's skull. The creature collapsed, red-orange sand leaking from its shattered head in lieu of blood. "And I'm a lot stronger."

You Have Killed A Dustborn Wraith!

XP Earned!

Corrosive Strike is level 59!

Pit shrieked, eager to get on the action and frustrated that his size would limit his effectiveness in the relatively small chamber. That Felix could understand that about his Companion just from his screech almost made him mistime a punch.

Etheric Concordance is level 76!

Next time, bud. I have a feeling this isn't the last we'll see of them.

The Wraiths went wild, charging at him. Their claws skittered off his scales, too weak to penetrate his boosted Endurance and Armored Skin and Sovereign Flesh. They flashed about, nimble things despite their ungainly movements, but they were not enough.

He struck, until sand flowed as water.

You Have Killed A Dustborn Wraith (x4)!

XP Earned!

Four of them fell fast, their heads and chests ruptured, their withered skin no match for his claws or the sheer Strength behind them. Felix paused, scanning the room and letting his Perception flare. He knew there was one more, but it had vanished somehow. The windows were shut and shuttered, their slats letting in horizontal bars of light, all of them undamaged.

Shit. Did it get into the hallway? He could just imagine the damage it would do if it were unleashed. Pit? Do you sense it?

His Companion did...something, an inward pull and sudden Felix was inside a shimmering black and red sky. He was floating, utterly free of gravity and everything else. In a flash of understanding, aided by the melodic thrum of his Etheric Concordance, Felix realized he was inside Pit's Spirit. Which means....

A hazy window appeared in the black and red sky, and suddenly Felix was watching the outside world through Pit's golden eyes.

Pit?

A resounding chirrup shook the heavens.

Uh, do you sense the thing?

Nope. There was a pleased note in the tenku's voice, a satisfied one.

You always wanted to try this, huh? A warbling affirmative came back to him, sending the crimson clouds scudding across the skies. Okay. Well, maybe now isn't the best time for it?

Then when?

Felix opened his mouth but hesitated. His friend had a good point. Alright. Find the straggler, then, but switch out for me to kill it. I don't want it to infect you.

Pit chirruped happily and began to stalk.

It was a strange experience, floating around inside of Pit's Spirit and only vaguely experiencing things on the outside. He didn't like that bit, and he poked at their connection, flaring his Affinity all the while. Pit's point of view snapped into sudden clarity, as if the tenku's eyes were Felix's own. He was prowling down the length of the room, eyeing the cots and the thickened shadows in the corners, sniffing all the while.

Everything smelled awful and clearly Pit's sense of smell was greater than Felix's own, despite his increased Perception. Something to do with being a Chimera, perhaps, but unpleasant just the same. Pit didn't notice, and was instead sucking in great lungfuls of the rotting air, seeking any trace of their final enemy.

There was a flicker of shadow at the edge of his peripheral vision, and Pit leaped aside, just barely missing the claws of the last, descending Wraith.

Felix tried to seize control again, but their bond stalled half way. Intuitively, he understood that they had to agree on that particular course of action.

Pit! Switch me back in!

The large tenku was dancing back, his large form surprisingly quick to the Wraith, judging by its frustrated screams. But Pit was bulky, his Body too great for the small confines of the chamber. The Wraith ducked beneath Pit's raking talons and tackled into his chest, throwing him back into the shuttered windows. The shutters splintered and the stone casement cracked with the impact.

PIT!

A startled trill answered him, and without warning Felix was back, his legs braced against the window sill behind him. The Wraith was in the midst of flinching, it's eyes squeezed shut from the flash of their Convergence.

Shadow Whip!

Tendrils of shadow Mana burst from his palms, each one splitting into four, then eight separate strands with a flick of his Will. They tangled the distracted Wraith, wrapping around limbs and torso and neck and face. With a grunt of exertion, Felix pulled and pivoted, slamming the Primordial Spawn into the wall ten feet to his left.

The impact was like a cannon going off. The wall cracked.

And the bastard got back up.

"No," he said, still fuming about Pit. He leaped for the bony bastard. "We're done here!"

Adamant Discord!

Cardinal Flame!

Arrow of Perdition!

Wild Threnody!

Fire and lightning exploded outward from Felix's fist in a straight, devastating line as he shoved with all his might into the chamber wall. And then his fist, glowing golden-azure with a deadly potency, drove into its chest.

The wall didn't just crack. It exploded outward.

You Have Killed A Dustborn Wraith!

XP Earned!

Arrow of Perdition is level 36!

...

Arrow of Perdition is level 42!

Wild Threnody is level 60!

Wild Threnody is level 61!

Felix leaned out of the hole he'd made, pushing his Perception out far enough to see the Menders far below, scurrying around like angry ants. And to see a lower roof, its tiled surface cracked and fragmented by the Dustborn Wraith corpse that had landed on it. Or what remained of the corpse.

Dead?

"Yeah, all dead Pit," Felix said, retracting his Perception. The room was still as a grave, with only the enormous hole in the wall to break the monotony. "What about you? Are you hurt?"

Fine, he sent, flickering with an undercurrent of...was that embarrassment?

"That thing was fast. Don't beat yourself up over it," Felix said. Pit only whistled dejectedly back, almost matching the wind that caught at Felix's hair. The Menders were going to be mad about the hole, he was positive. "I should fix that."

A quick Stone Shaping and Felix restored the stone wall, though it was clear where the hole had been. His work left it too smooth and without the layer of plaster that had adorned it previously, but he figured it was fine. Better than no wall at all, right?

Chthonic Tribute!

The bodies in the roomand the one on the lower roof belowburst into black smoke streaked liberally with brown, sepia, bloody red, and surges of blackened green. It was thin, barely anything when compared to the Revenants he'd faced in the past, but it was potent all the same. The Essence flowed through him, and he fed it into his abyss. Wild glee shook that darkness, and a distinct sense of...appreciation rose from its depths.

That's...okay. Weird, but okay.

His Mind and Spirit felt a little strained after the influx of Primordial Essence, but not too bad, all things considered. His Body felt fine, which was a relief. He'd been getting better at Adamant Discord, and it hardly strained his Aspects at all when the targets were light enough. Felix was more than ready to keep fighting, if things called for it; he didn't think it'd come to that, not at the moment at least.

With a grunt of effort, he released his Sovereign of Flesh and summoned back his shirt and tattered cloak. A third flare of Will and Intent dissolved the wall he had shaped, revealing a number of very surprised Menders. Several stumbled forward, clearly having been leaning against the wall as it dissolved back into the floor and ceiling, and more were standing with satchels of herbs and clenched fists.

"It's done," Felix said.

"The others...?" Dahria asked, her face pale.

Felix's expression softened. "All dead in here. Those that weren't...I need to speak with your Prioress."

"That is impossible," said a Dwarven Mender, one he hadn't seen before. She eyed his spotlessly clean clothing and the bloody mess behind him. "The Prioress is indisposed and not taking visitors."

"She'll take me," Felix said as he brushed past her and the others. He felt hands tried to reach for him, to stop him, but ignored them all. A few of them fell over, not expecting to be pulled along in his wake after grabbing hold of his cloak or shoulder.

"Stop!"

"He can't!"

Felix marched down the hall, back the way he had come. A gaggle of Menders followed for a ways, but most turned back to inspect the sick room he'd destroyed. He felt Dahria hounding his steps, however, and she hustled by him in a flurry of skirts and frizzing hair. She didn't try to stop him physically, at least.

"The Prioress is resting now, sir. We appreciate what you've done, but now is not the time for an audience!"

"It's either now, or you can explain why your entire town is dead," Felix said. The Mender paled and let out a frightened squeak, but she stopped talking. Good.

He shoved open the door to the Prioress' room, setting stacked papers flying and gauzy curtains billowing. The two Human Menders were there, along with a Goblin and an Orc in similar garb. All of them exclaimed at his entrance, brows furrowed and Skills singing in the air. But it was the Gnomish woman seated atop the bed that he was focused on.

Manifestation of the Coronach is level 68!

One of the Human women sputtered. "Now sir, your miraculous aid was appreciated, but if you think that you can simple barge into!"

"Was anyone else injured in the Pass? Anyone else touched by that skeletal undead you faced?" he demanded. "Prioress."

The Gnomish woman had her white hair loose about her shoulders and still in her dressing gown, but she was as calm and self-possessed as Zara. "You were the one who saved me? Who cleansed the Status Condition?"

"Yeah. I also just had to kill six of your Menders who had been turned by it," Felix said, careless of the gasps that spread around him. "So I need to know if anyone else was injured by the thing that got you. It's a curse and it'll spread, though I don't know how fast." Felix paused, thinking. "How long since the attack?"

"Two days," Dahria offered.

Felix tried to remember what he knew about diseases back home, but scrapped that line of thought. This was a magical cursea flesh curse, as Karys had once called it. And he'd seen it before in the Revenants, though that had been more diluted than this Dustborn curse wasit had taken people weeks of exposure to succumb to the remnants of the Maw's curse.

The Prioress stared at him. "Nina. How many were wounded by the Wraith?"

The Human women beside her swallowed. "Counting yourself, it was seven in total."

Felix nodded, relief sweeping through him and Pit both. "Then it's contained. For now."

"How did you cleanse the affliction from me? I would know this so that we can prevent it in the future," the Prioress asked.

"It's a Skill, and not one I can teach," Felix said. "I'm more concerned about why this happened in the first place."

The Gnome watched him, and he felt as if her eyes were weighing him. "You saved me. Saved my people, it seems." Behind him he felt Dahria nod firmly to the Prioress. "I would be happy to explain what we know of this creature."

Felix let himself smile a little. "That would be appreciated."

"Is it altruism that drives you, sir...?"

"Felix. Felix Nevarre. And...maybe. I've just seen curses like this spread before and it is never pretty." His dumb memory conjured hauntingly realistic memories but he shrugged them away. "I've got the power to stop it, so I did."

"Indeed. 'What is the virtue of power, if its only facet is to dominate?'" she said, as if quoting something. "Have you read the Vicissitudes by Tern?"

"Uh, no," Felix said. "Never heard of them."

She tilted her head. "You echo his sentiments well. Surprising, from a....you are a mage, are you not? I sense a great deal of Mana from you."

Felix shifted his feet, spreading his Perception around himself. The Prioress seemed wary of himthey all didbut he found no aggression in their Spirits or postures. "I am...a bit of a mix."

"Hm. Uncommon, those. A lack of focus has proven the death of many upon this Continent."

Felix only watched her, taking a page from Harn's playbook.

"In any case, you wish to know of this creature. The Wraith from the desert." Felix nodded and the Prioress continued on, still abed and dishevelled, though he could barely tell through her regal bearing. "The undead of the Scorched Expanse are similar in composition, but not size nor in strength. The Dustborn curse is transmitted by their vile Skills as well, but it...is nothing like this."

Felix recalled. The Mender had said it would drain someone of their moisture until they turned to dust. Not a pleasant way to go.

"It takes many, many weeks for it to claim a life. In the interim, we can defend against it with ample water and rest. That alone is often enough to ward off the Status Condition, even without magical healing." The Prioress picked at the sheets folded over her lap. "The Dustborn Status Condition is resistant to our magic, which is why water and rest are the surest way to recovery. But what you described is a horror. A dreadful change must have come over the Expanse."

"Have you seen these Wraith's before?" he asked.

Nina shook her head, from beside the Prioress. "No. This was the first."

That's probably good, right? Might mean there aren't too many of them. To the others he said, "Where do the undead come from?"

"No one is sure. The desert is so vast, its reaches have never been truly explored. The undead have roamed the dunes for Ages, riding the winds and hurled hither and yon by unknown forces. It is a danger just as the heat and lack of water are dangers there. But it is not unmanageable." The Prioress look out the window, which faced the Stormeater Peaks. "Ahkestria usually has patrols through the sands, guides for caravans and travellers. Not now. Not since the Paladins moved into the south in force, not two months prior. That is when their contingent was left here to cause all sorts of trouble."

"And your Knights haven't done anything about it?"

"Not our Knights. And they are only marginally better than their Prince," Nina scoffed. She laughed bitterly. "The Knights are scoundrelsinterested mainly in food, women, and winebut they know their duty. The Hierophant's thugs do not care for what must be done, or what always has been needed. They man the wall as if soldiers were to march upon it, never paying mind that the winds of death do not care for mortal tactics."

"Winds of death...you mean the cyclones that hurl the undead around." She nodded at him and he continued, looking between the Menders and Prioress. "How does that work?"

The Gnomish woman sighed, just barely suppressing a cough. "A mystery unsolved these long Ages. If there is a Mind to the winds, we have never seen it. All we know is that the undead seek life to snuff it out, and they are growing stronger. I wouldn't be surprised to find that the entire expedition of Paladins were already dead."

Wouldn't that be convenient?

"So the Paladins went off into the desert...did they say why? Was it to fight off this undead problem?" Felix asked.

"No, I doubt they much cared about the Threats to our Territory," the Prioress said, and Felix just about heard the capitalization in her words. She must have had some piece of Authority, or at least been educated in its uses. The latter made sense, considering her leadership position. "No, the Paladins were sent to do what they do best: hunt heretics."

Pit bristled within his Spirit. "Heretics?" Felix asked.

"It is a guess only. The Hierocracy keeps counsel with none but itself."

The Unbound, obviously. And the Paladins left behind are simply to secure their way home. Felix frowned. And Primordial Spawn undead are infesting the desert. This is getting better by the minute.

"Okay. That's all I needed, I suppose," Felix said with a sigh. The Menders had known a bit, but not as much as he'd hoped.

"Do you intend to traverse the depths of the Scorched Expanse, Sir Nevarre?" the Gnome asked.

Felix didn't answer, just let his gaze linger on the Prioress and her retinue. The Gnome shook her head, gracing him with a small smile. "I do not mean to pry. But I would warn you: do not travel during the day. That is when the scour the sands, and it is then that the undead will find you unless you stay hidden."

"That's...appreciated," he said.

At that moment, the door opened to admit a small, mousy woman in the blue and green robes of the order. She was wringing her hands and bowing quite low as she entered.

"Mother Kartez, there is a woman, a...a Master Tier and a noble Lady insisting on piercing the inner chambers of the priory," the small woman said, her entire posture harried. "They claim to be searching for a man named Felix."

The Prioress gave Felix a look, this one shrewder than the others. "My, you seem to be in high demand, Sir Nevarre."

Felix forced a laugh. "I've been gone a bit. My friends are likely worried." He stood and walked to the door as the junior Mender scurried out ahead of him. "It was nice meeting you Prioress, and all the rest of you."

"Sir Nevarre, the pleasure was mine, I assure you," the Gnomish woman said. Her lips quirked to the side, but she had remarkable control of her Spirit when she wanted. Felix read nothing from her.

Not knowing whether to bow or genuflect or whatever, Felix just turned and walked out.

"The audacity...!"

Felix winced. Clearly he'd chosen wrong.