Unbound

Felix balanced himself between the crystal and the granite shelf, wings folded and his legs holding him in place easily. It was an awkward fit, made more so by the fact that having wings was still entirely too new, but it allowed him to both rest and stay free of the Guilders' relentless attacks. The Mana bolts had stopped coming so furiously, instead appearing in tight bursts every couple seconds. They grew more precise every time he ventured beyond the crystal, though the strange rock absorbed their Mana whenever their shots strayed too close.

No wonder it's so good for enchantment, Felix breathlessly mused. Flying took a lot out of his Stamina and he hadn't even learned a Skill for it yet. This thing sucks up Mana like a sponge.

Frankly, he was worried his grenades wouldn't work and their Mana charges would get soaked into the crystal. To circumvent it, he'd tried to wedge the inscribed stones in place without having them touch the crystal itself and then Stone Shaped some connecting sigils between them all. This section of the ceiling had some seriously thick vines growing across it, which, aside from providing useful handholds, made securing the grenades relatively simple. Hopefully it would be enough to prevent absorption.

Invocation is level 33!

Stone Shaping is level 47!

Theurgist of the Rise is level 58!

Felix looked down, scanning the ground once again. His Voracious Eye, having no distance limit, was extremely useful when the Essence fog wasn't too thick. Unfortunately, the fog kept regrowing even after he ate it. He could make out plenty of Revenants and Ghouls, but his friends were harder to spot. As were any further Scales of the Ravager King. Felix felt a powerful urge to find and consume the rest of them; an urge that was entirely his own, as upset as that made him. He knew they were below, the clear source of all the Essence pumped into the air, but there was so much they were practically invisible.

What wasn't so hard to spot were the white armored forms of the Inquisition, and Felix could see hundreds, maybe thousands of them pushing through the horde. They were making a beeline straight toward the Broodmother.

Shit. They were going to destroy the Nest. He had to move.

Felix quested outward with his Perception and Affinity. Where was the Elder? He hadn't seen a single of the vibrant green spells in a few minutes, but was the man just waiting?

His Affinity tingled, the connection between him and Mervin discovered once more. He repeated that same, odd twist of mental gymnastics and distant, muffled sounds appeared in his ears. Voices whispering to one another.

"Don't worry, kid. We're with the strongest Guilders alive, yeah?"

"Cuz all the rest are dead."

"Shut it, Garin. Elder Teine's with us; he's given us Essences an' all, why would he let us die after spendin' so much?"

Someone coughed. "Lars is right. Stick to his side and we'll be right as rain."

"I suppose," Mervin said, his voice far louder than the rest. "I just don't fancy goin' toe to toe with whatever a Broodmother is."

They've gone down as well. Felix pulled back from the connection and looked down. The Mana bolts still flashed regularly, so not all of the Guilders had left, but the stronger ones had for sure. Okay. Okay. Time to make this work.

Without warning, Felix's Affinity flared again, and entirely new set of sights and sounds filtered into him. It wasn't so much as a gentle vibration as a hard shove into his face.

Clutching to the vines around him, Felix was upended into something else.

Felix's vision resolved into a static filled haze before two rapid blinks smoothed away the imperfections. With a start, he realized he was only twenty feet away from three extremely angry looking Inquisitors.

And one of them had a very familiar sword.

Hey, he tried to say, but the word merely echoed through his Mind. Instead, another voice spoke.

"Nice to meet you at last, Eliza. I've been meaning to have a chat with you."

Felix didn't recognize the voice and he couldn't see the face, but it only took a moment thought to realize he was inside of someone else; someone he knew well enough to be pulled almost entirely within their senses.

Zara?

The woman with the hooked sword—his hooked sword—peered at them. "And who are you, Sorcerer? A Master Tier Sorcerer, at that."

The woman—Elder DuFont, Felix realized—she said the last part more as a warning to her compatriots. The two other Inquisitors traded wary looks. Both of them were older, wrinklier men with powerful builds and thick armor that belied their considerable Temper. They were not the sort to be scared lightly.

"A foe you do not want to face, Inquisitor," Zara said. "I come to give you a warning, and to hear your Choice."

DuFont gripped his sword tighter, angling it's curved tip across her body defensively. The more slender of the two Inquisitor visibly bristled at Zara's words. "You presume to warn us, heathen?"

Zara's gaze did not move from DuFont's face, which had gone from pale to a deep flush.

"You'll not stop us, Master Tier or not," the former Elder stated, drawing herself up. The sword was still held in a middle guard position. "I hold the advantages here. You may kill us, but the Inquisition will claim this city one way or another."

Felix felt Zara tilt her head, a strange sensation for him. "Is that why you sent for reinforcements, Eliza? Do you truly want power so greatly that you'd burn all of Haarwatch for it?"

They sent for reinforcements? Felix thought, aghast. When? From where?

Viewing as he was, Felix's senses didn't work properly. Instead he relied on Zara's own observations, and the Naiad easily spotted the blaring alarm in the woman's Spirit. So too did she sense the sudden unease within the other two Inquisitors.

Oh. Ohhh. She didn't know.

"I have come to witness your Choice," Zara said, and her eyes flicked toward a wall of aquamarine light that filled the space. Beyond it, Felix could see the immense, writhing form of the Broodmother. She'd walled it off. "What lies beyond this wall is not the power you think."

DuFont pointed her stolen blade at Zara and snarled. "You'll not dissuade me from my path with your lies, Sorcerer. Either step out of my way, or face the consequences."

"Consequences," Zara mused. Her tone was light but Felix could feel anger and a...weighty sadness. "Yes. The price always comes, sooner or later. Very well." She panned her gaze across the three of them, their expressions all ranging between fatalistic fury and fearful contempt. She snorted. "Your Choice has been Witnessed."

The connection abruptly disappeared, and Felix whiplashed back into the stone outcropping. A brief, flaring cry called out through his Affinity, a song that clearly originated from Zara's own Spirit. Felix focused his addled Mind on it, and a string of Intent flowed into words.

"They seek to destroy the Broodmother. I cannot delay them longer than this, or else risk the Quest. Do what you must, Felix."

The words were barely complete when the crimson fog parted below him, and Felix could see the aquamarine globe that surrounded the disgusting Broodmother...and the white specks of the Inquisition furiously beating against it. The seething throng of Primordial Spawn threw themselves at the double lines of white, viciously threshing them, but the Inquisition held. Barely.

The aquamarine dome, the largest object below him, shuddered as DuFont and the Inquisitors attacked it. He was running out of time.

He fell.

Ten feet below, he snapped out his wings with a groan of relief. Holding them so close to his body for an extended period had been uncomfortable at best. Felix soared, and within him Pit trilled gleefully. The tenku felt best when flying.

It's time, bud. I don't know how this is gonna go, so brace yourself. Felix felt Pit stiffen within his Spirit, their mingled senses tensing against the task ahead. Here we go.

Felix dipped and spun, flying back up to the ceiling only twenty or so feet away. He was still close enough to the massive crystal that the Guilders shouldn't have a clear shot, but far enough that he could set off his grenades without worry.

He hoped.

Closing his eyes, Felix let a thick tendril of Mana vapor breath from his channels. Like fogged breath on a wintry morning, it poured forth, except his Will held its shape together. Pit let out a small whistle of pain, but the tenku did not ask to stop. Certainty washed through their bond, and Felix continued.

The tendril of crackling steam snaked across the vine-coated ceiling until it touched the first of his grenades. The stone came alive, primed but not detonating yet, just as he'd hoped. They functioned by Intent as much as sigaldry, another reason why mass producing them wouldn't really be effective yet; few could match his Intent, let alone when paired with Pit's. The sigils he'd inscribed in a semi circle around the crystal lit up with animating Mana, draining his extended vapor as each grenade lit up in turn. Felix gritted his teeth and forced more Mana along his channels, pouring himself into the connection until the last of the small artifacts were primed.

Invocation is level 34!

...

Invocation is level 37!

Theurgist of the Rise is level 59!

Mana Manipulation is level 47!

Mana Manipulation is level 48!

Felix and Pit both gasped a desperate breath when it was finished, but their Will held strong. A single thread of Mana extended between him and the array he'd improvised. He had done it. They had done it.

Felix let his Voracious Eye roam below, identifying Acolytes and Revenants. The temporary shield was flickering wildly now, likely under great amounts of stress from DuFont. He couldn't see any of his friends or allies. It was time.

Here goes nothing, Pit.

Atar's plan was mad. It was foolish and foolhardy, one of the worst he'd ever devised.

It was, in his own words, 'a Felix special.'

Hah! Atar looked up, trying to find the Unbound above them. The cavernous roof was almost entirely obfuscated by the swirling mists. His mood sobered at the thought of a giant rock falling on all of them. They had to move with alacrity.

Evie, impetuous imp that she was, had already engaged the dangerous Initiate. And she was losing.

As the group raced into position, she fought desperately against the Initiate. The man was lightning on two feet, the faster by far. So much so that he seemed to be toying with her.

Hold it together, Evie! He ran through the plan in his mind once more, but couldn't keep his eyes off the fight. His Perception was excellent enough that he could see their exchange clearly despite the mist and distance. Run! Don't fight!

Evie ducked beneath a sword swipe, but couldn't dodge the man's knee. She tried to block it with her right forearm. The metal shod appendage drove her own arm up and into her chest, lifting her bodily into a counter thrust from the man's weapon.

A Sparkbolt hit the Initiate's legs and the man skittered backward. He looked up, almost as surprised as Atar himself felt. His hand was extended and everything.

"Thought we were supposed to be stealthy, Atar?" Vess shouted, glee in her voice.

"Don't care! Kick their teeth in!" Cal screamed, before blurring forward. The Hand was right behind her.

"Bodie!" Atar shouted.

"On it, little man!" Bodie's easy going voice came to them, the only one to have peeled off in another direction.

Though she landed awkwardly, Evie immediately pressed the advantage, spinning her chain in a deadly dance that the Initiate immediately fended off.

Idiot, Atar groused.

"Open fire!" the Initiate shouted, seeing the figures racing toward them. Atar liked to think there was panic in his voice. There was certainly panic in the fire mage as several hundred Acolytes opened up into a blinding volley of light aspected Mana bolts.

"Ah!" Atar threw up a wave of fire, his Field of Flame turned on a separate axis, and a large amount of the golden bolts were consumed.

"Our turn!" Vess shouted, and her spears screamed through the air.

Bodie slid to a stop, his eyes taking in the sorry state of the redcloak's supply wagon. The two avum were tangled in their harnesses and half broken traces, reduced to chirping in wide-eyed fear and pain. "Shh shh, I'll save you." With a single tug, Bodie tore apart offending straps and freed them. "Run along, sweeties."

Once the giant birds scurried free, Bodie reached down to the overturned wagon. "Strength of Many!" His already impeccable frame filled with muscle, his Stamina and Mana dropping by a quarter as his Strength and Endurance jumped by thirty percent. In a single movement, Bodie lifted the entire thing.

And he threw it.

Crown of Ignis!

Atar's Crown manifested above his head, the outward sign of his mastery of the fire element. Potency flooded his channels as his core redoubled in size and ferocity. The power of it sang to him, crooned of all that he could do, but Atar knew better than to listen. He followed the plan.

Atar had noticed the glyphs painted on several crates that had spilled out of the broken wagon. It may have been a reckless scheme, but it was their best chance.

Sparkbolt!

Harn, Vess, and the two Elders were already facing down the collective fire of the Inquisition, freeing up Cal and the Hand to face the Initiate. They fired back, waves of metal, air, shadow, and lightning Mana hitting the small army with deadly force. But even they paused for a second to see the wagon tumble above their heads and into the midst of the redcloaks.

It rolled in the air, almost frozen in time. Its contents began to spill from it's rent sides, but it was too late.

Just before it hit the redcloaks, Atar's Sparkbolt reached it.

The wagon exploded with such force that Atar—easily a hundred strides away—was thrown off his feet. The redcloaks did not fare as well.

Death and destruction enveloped the company, while the kinetic force of the explosion sent undamaged vials and bottles hurling in all directions. Health, Mana, and Stamina potions scattered to the four winds, but it was the Incendiary potions that ripped up the tiles and heavy roots just as easily as they killed squad after squad of Acolytes. There was even a single, branching bolt of lightning that hit and scattered those few remaining on their feet.

A Fulmination Potion?! Atar marveled, climbing back to his feet. They pulled out all the stops here.

The Initiate was also thrown from his feet, but he was already in a bad way. The Hand hovered over the man, greatsword still sheathed, his bare hands dripping with the other's blood. Evie rushed up from behind him, chain whirling.

"Step away, Hand! He's mine!"

Cal grabbed her from behind, arresting her left arm. "Leave it! We don't have time—!"

Another explosion rocked the cavern, and Atar looked around in confusion. Until several massive boulders easily as big as an avum slammed into the ground all around them, crushing Revenants and redcloaks alike.

"Look!" Vess pointed up, and they could just barely see a winged form flying above, before it was assaulted by a rainbow of Mana bolts. "Felix!"

"We have to run! Now!" Cal barked, before taking off. With a terrified look up, Atar followed.

Don't you dare drop that crystal on me!

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