Crystal Wars 002: Integration (Patreon)

I blinked.

Then, blinked again. But what was before my eyes didn’t change.

Nothing. That’s precisely what I saw. An unvarnished blackness deeper than I’d ever encountered before filled my vision. There was not even a pinprick of light to relieve the darkness and, if not for the ceaseless din of the crowd, I would’ve thought I’d died already, and this was the special hell the gods had reserved for me.

But I’m not dead.

The thought slowly penetrated. And if I was not dead—or soon to die—I had to act. The malaise coloring my thoughts vanished.

“Boy!” I called.

No response.

“Boy!” I yelled again, louder this time.

Still nothing. Either the lad was ignoring me, or he was too consumed by his own fright to hear me. He had the keys to my iron cuffs, though. I only needed to get at it.

I staggered to my feet, not so easy when your hands are chained behind your back. Thankfully, my jailors had not thought to shackle my feet. Orientating myself towards where I had last seen my executioner, I rushed forward, shoulder angled upwards.

One step. Two. Contact.

“Ooof!” the boy exclaimed as I bore him to the ground. I landed on top just as I’d planned. I took a moment to orientate myself, then drove my head forward. Hard.

Skin tore, and cartilage snapped. The boy screamed.

Sorry, lad, I thought sorrowfully. Jerking back my head, I flung it forward once more. I could not let up. He clutched feebly at me, the void above forgotten, as a more immediate threat claimed his attention—me.

I headbutted the boy again, over and over, until my eyes and nose were drenched in his blood, and he lay still and unmoving.

Rolling off the boy, I placed my ear against his chest. His heart still beat. I sighed in relief, glad I hadn’t killed him. He didn’t deserve that, but I also couldn’t afford to waste more time reasoning with him.

Turning about, I felt blindly with my fingers at the belt at his waist. Around me, darkness still lay heavily on the world, and the crowd kept hollering. I could only imagine the chaos in the square. People did not react well to panic while in groups, and I was sure many had perished already, trampled underfoot by their own fellows.

Ironically, it was me, the convicted rebel alone on the raised dais, who was safer.

My fingers snagged on the key chain. I yanked it free and fitted the first key to the lock on my cuffs by touch alone. It didn’t turn. I persisted, trying the next one.

It took some time, but eventually, I found the right one and unfastened my cuffs. Rising to my feet, I massaged my hands to get blood flowing through them again, then knelt down and picked up the boy’s dropped axe. The weapon was unwieldy and unbalanced, but it was not as if I was spoiled for options.

Now what?

It remained pitch black, and I was still navigating about by touch and memory alone. It would be foolish to leave the platform just yet. I was safe up here. But the darkness won’t last forever—

My thoughts broke off. There was actually nothing to say it wouldn’t. After all, it is not like the sun disappears every day. I pushed back the troubling thought.

The sum will be back, I thought firmly. I only need to be ready—

Once more, my thoughts were interrupted. This time, it was by an unholy howl so loud I felt my ears would pop. Dropping the axe, I slapped my palms to my ears. The sound was coming from above.

I glanced up and felt shock shiver through me anew.

The sky had shattered.

* * *

Light had returned to the world but in the most bizarre fashion. The veil that had covered the sky revealed itself to be a thin layer of obsidian crystal, one that had shattered into billions of shards.

The tiny pieces hung motionless in the air, closely packed but spaced far enough apart to let most of the sun’s rays through. The shards had not yet begun to fall, but where else could they go but down?

Are they dangerous?

Undoubtedly.

Time to leave.

Bending down, I retrieved the axe, then surveyed the square. Predictably mayhem ensued. Half the crowd had disappeared—gone to gods’ know where—but those that remained hadn’t stopped screaming, some calling for lost friends or family, others looting the fallen, and some even trying to scale the executioner’s block. Thankfully the platform had been built tall enough to prevent that.

I took stock of myself. My days-old beard, dirty rags, and bare feet labeled me what I was—an escaped felon. I would not be able to easily hide my presence, even amidst the panicked crowd. My skin was covered in sores and bruises, and I was more than half-starved. But I was a veteran of more than a thousand battles and if pushed could—no, would—fight.

And by the looks of it, I would be called on to do so soon.

Amidst the throng of aimless people dashing back and forth, I spotted six purple-cloaked figures approaching the dais with predatory intent. Imperial inquisitors.

My eyes flitted over the crowd again, searching for any red-robed figures. When I failed to spot any, some of my tension eased away. Inquisitors, I could handle. Magi were something else entirely.

I wondered—briefly—where they had gone. I was sure at least a few would have been posted to observe the execution. It surprised me, too, that none had attempted to relieve the darkness with a light or fire casting, but none of that was here nor there.

I glanced upwards again. The broken glass filling the sky had begun to move, slowly certainly, but definitely downwards. There was no telling what would happen once the shards hit the ground—or me.

My gaze dropped to the gasping boy. I would’ve dearly liked to loot some of his clothes, but there was no time.

I had to go. Now.

Turning about to face the most isolated purple cloaked figures, I dashed lightly across the dais. Reaching the edge, I leaped.

It was a foolish decision.

My legs, weakened by malnutrition, failed to execute a maneuver I had performed countless times, and my ankle gave way beneath me. It was only by some valiant acrobatics that I escaped sprawling face-first on the paved square.

Still, there was nothing pretty about my landing, and the ill-timed maneuver nearly cost me my life as the inquisitor descended upon me in a rush.

Ignoring the agony in my left ankle—it was sprained or worse—I whipped my axe forward to fend off my foe’s darting sword. The heavier blade swept away the lighter one to the side, and before the inquisitor could react, I stepped inside his guard and elbowed him in the nose.

The imperial staggered back. I followed through, bringing around the axe to decapitate him in a single blow.

Standing over the headless corpse, I spared the executioner’s axe an appreciative glance. It was well suited to its task. The inquisitor’s armor had provided scant resistance.

Nonetheless I dropped it and picked up the dead imperial’s longsword instead. The axe was too cumbersome to run with, and besides, the longsword had always been my weapon of choice.

The glass in the sky was falling faster now. Bare blade in hand, I turned east and fled into the square.

* * *

I did not get far.

My sprained ankle was too much of a hindrance, and the remaining inquisitors were too close. I had managed little more than a dozen steps before the five other violet figures emerged from the mass of fleeing people to surround me.

“Give up, Tarr,” their leader said, shouting to be heard above the crowd.

A bubble of space had opened up around me and my five foes, the crowd instinctively shrinking back from the threat the inquisitors represented.

“And why should I do that, captain?” I asked mildly, reading the inquisitor’s rank from his tabs. “I am a dead man already.”

“There are many ways to die,” the captain replied, his lips in a grim line. “Some, more painful than others.”

That was certainly true. “All right,” I said, lowering the sword I held at guard.

My response seemed to catch the inquisitor captain by surprise, and he was momentarily at a loss for words.

I wasn’t really going to give up, of course, but I needed to stall for a few seconds. Taking on five inquisitors was no easy task, even for me, but I had not lost sight of the rain of black crystals, and by my reckoning, the deluge was about to hit.

In the confusion that was almost certain to follow, anything could happen. The captain’s eyes darted upwards, and I saw the same concern in his face.

“Get him!” he snapped to his men.

The other four inquisitors took a step forward. Then another. I tightened my grip around my blade and waited.

The sky darkened.

Involuntarily the inquisitors’ eyes jerked upwards.

Mine too.

The crystal storm was upon us. Ignoring the imperials, I crouched down and wrapped my hands around my head to shield my face.

It availed me little.

The shards struck, each one a needle of pain against my body. My threadbare rags provided little protection, and soon my back, arms, head, and every other exposed part of me felt as if on fire.

The seconds ticked by as I waited for the agony to cease, but it did not.

It only grew. I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to move, to escape, while the opportunity existed, but it was all I could do to hold myself steady and not collapse into a screaming puddle.

When is this going to end?

Close by, I heard the imperials give vent to their agony and fear. I kept my own jaw clenched. If I began screaming, I knew I would not be able to stop. Don’t think about it. Panting heavily, I blanked my mind, thinking of nothing.

Experiencing, but not feeling.

Then I noticed something strange. I was not bleeding. My back was not sticky with blood, nor did it drip down my nose.

How can that be?

The glass falling from the sky should be sharp. With every impact, the tiny missiles had to be drawing lines of red in my skin. And if I was not bleeding, what caused my pain?

I forced my eyes open.

I was staring down at the empty ground—at paved flagstones absent of any shards. Huh? Where were the falling crystals? My gaze darted to my right foot, watching keenly as a piece of black glass landed on it.

Fresh pain reverberated through me, but I was too caught up to notice. The crystal did not fall away from my bare skin. Instead, it burrowed beneath. Then words appeared in my mind.

Critical mass achieved.

Communication channel established with host. Commencing integration.

Shock jolted through me. What strange magic was this? But I had no time to dwell further on it. The pain quadrupled, my limbs trembled, and my head pounded.

Things were moving inside me...

I tried to fight, to expel the shards from my body, but it was useless. How did you fight what was in you?

Eventually, the pain grew too much. Consciousness receded, and darkness claimed me.