Unbound

"Burn damn you!" Atar screamed, but the cage held firm.

The world was chaos around him. Growls and explosions, metal clashes and discharging Mana Skills, it was too much. Atar focused, pushing it away from his Mind. Mana spun, uncoiling from the center of his core space, lashing whips of flame that spun up into his channels with an alacrity he'd only ever accomplished once before: when he'd faced down a horde of Reforged in their final desperate battle for Haarwatch.

His Journeyman Tempered Aspects pulsed with the effort of maintaining his Imbued Sparkbolts, overlapped so that they created an even greater heat than usual. Still, the cage would not melt. Whatever had made it was strong, the ice Mana in the construct more than equal to the hottest flame Atar could produce.

"This isn't working!" he shouted.

"Get me my axes then!" Harn snarled. The man's busted and scarred face was more than a little terrifying to see, and the light in his eyes as he stared out at the spiked Arcid fighting Vess...

"Alister! You try! Vyne! You see his axes anywhere?" Atar let his Sparkbolts pull back as his teammate stepped in with a flash of blue Mana. Instead, he set the Sparkbolts flying at the Wretch that pushed against the defender's shield. The Imbued Sparkbolts cut through it, drilling deep into its carapace before lighting it from within.

Vyne sagged in relief, no longer having to push back the insectoid monster. "I'm a little busy!"

"Kylar!" Atar shouted. The man was only ten paces away, but the roar of battle forced him to actually use his Journeyman Tempered lungs. Kylar spun low, swinging his twin swords in opposing directions and severing the outstretched arm of a Ghostfire Simian. A final flourish ended it completely. "Find Harn's axes!"

"Find em yourself!" he cried back, already whirling through another set of dizzying sword Forms. "I've got my hands full!"

"Highest Flame, Urge of That Which Burns, keep me from killing these children," Atar hissed to himself. "Fine!"

Crown of Ignis!

Imbued Sparkbolt!

Imbued Sparkbolt!

Imbued Sparkbolt!

A coronet of flame blazed above him, showering his body with heat and the heady, omnipotent power of Fire. He felt something open within him, as if his core had become an endless wellspring of crimson-touched flame. Sparkbolts manifested around him, fist sized balls of fire that multiplied into dozens, all of the rotating tightly around the mage's body. He laughed.

"Step aside Kylar! Let me show you how this is done!"

The swordsman had barely dove out of the way when Atar unleashed a storm of fireballs onto the enemy. As if the Highest Flame itself touched the earth, Simians and Wretches charred to husks in the heat and elemental fire of his might. The touch of Primordial power, still tainting him after all this time, merely accelerated their demise. Indeed, it was the primary reason the few Reforged shied back, their ice armor actually burned by his power.

Then why won't it melt that blighted cage! Atar shouted wordlessly and the crown atop his head blazed ever brighter. "Find the damn axes, swordsman!"

"A-aye!"

Kylar scurried off and Davum with him as Atar and Vyne held back the broken tide of monsters. A'zek, that terrifying beast, he stalked through the enemy like a dark wind and was just as untouchable. The lesser creatures, Tier II Ghostfire Simians and Wretches, they fell to every swipe of his claws. The Reforged were another story, too strong and tough to be taken down by much other than overwhelming force. The chimera was strong, but its claws were not always sharp enough or quick enough to penetrate their altered Bodies.

But Atar's altered fire...that was enough. He fought down the mad laugh that bubbled from within his chest, as Sparkbolt after Imbued Sparkbolt whirled outward from his Crown. The Skill, a Blessing he'd received a long time ago, was a dangerous, double-edged sword. It could conjure more Sparkbolts than Atar could ever cast on his own, all of them potent and blazing hot. Yet the power of elemental fire was heady, and often threatened to overwhelm his Mind; even more so now that it was in Journeyman Tier.

He firmed his Will, pushing back another wild surge of mixed anger and amusement. He was stronger than his Skills. He was the master of his own power. As Vess danced against the slippery Arcid and the Reforged charged his position, Atar let fly hot, sweltering death.

The sunken tunnel became a charnel house, an abattoir set aflame, and Atar its mad tender. Still they came, more pouring down from above as they were called to the brutal battle against his team. The heat built, until all of them were sweating buckets from the sheer proximity, and the press of flesh alone was weight down their lone guardian.

Beams of blue force relieved the pressure, and Atar followed Alister's strikes with well-placed Sparkbolts that sent enemies convulsing backward from the agony of their insides burning up.

"Your god is potent," A'zek said from atop a pile of monsters. The harnoq had hamstrung and then disemboweled many of them, and his black form stood out against the orange vibrancy of fire Mana. "Such gifts are not given lightly."

Atar frowned. He shouldn't have mentioned the Highest Flame aloud, not around the Raven worshippers. Few people in the north had a good opinion of Urges. Still, he hadn't the time for regret, not when he saw the spiked Arcid slam Vess back into the tunnel walls. She hit with such force that the impact sent huge cracks spidering in every direction, and the heiress half-sunk into the stone itself.

"Vess!" Atar shouted, before drawing deep on his Crown. The ornamentation flickered and dimmed, but almost fifty Sparkbolt spat out into the air around him. "Burn you, Arcid!"

Atar thrust his hands forward, and every single bolt sped toward the metallic abomination. Crimson light splashed against the monster, turning sections of its grey metal hide black as something caught fire. Black smoke poured from the Arcid, and the thing took a measured step back from Vess to give Atar a considering glare.

"Come and get me, then!" More fire rose at his command, his core blazing hotter than he could handle. Atar grimaced and forced the power through his channels, feeling them scorch and ache. "Field of Flames!"

The Arcid laughed. "You think this is enough? You think any of you are enough?!" In a flash, it tore through the area of fire, stomping over any beast that was in its way. It appeared before Atar before the mage had the time to more than flinch, and it brought down a heavy, spiked fist like a hammer.

Strength Ignition!

All of the fire around them was suddenly yanked into Atar's channels, its power rendered back into the Mana which animated it. Immediately, Atar's Strength and Endurance increased massively, determined by how much fire Mana he had spent in the last sixth of a glass.

It had been a lot.

Atar's muscles swelled with power, nearly ripping apart his battlerobes as he reached upward and stopped the downward strike with nothing more than his bare hands. At least, for a moment—before the Arcid activated some Skill of their own, and his sure grip failed. The metal creature's limbs became frictionless, slipping free and dropping down and away from Atar. Then they thrust forward, faster than Atar could even perceive.

The blow took him straight in the chest, hard enough to send the fire mage flying.

He smashed backward into something that rang like a bell and was cold enough to burn. Dazed, he looked up, only to find Harn glowering down at him.

"Get up, Sparky! Keep fighting!"

Fumbling at his waist, Atar slung back a potion and stood up, his physical stats still bolstered for another few moments.

"Don't bother, mage. You have lost." The Arcid laughed. It casually backhanded Vyne, who tried to Shield Bash the thing from behind. The shield-bearer was tossed aside as if he weighed nothing at all. "Even now, my Master comes. He has heard the sounds of your Spirit, and he grows fascinated. Tell me, why?" The Arid walked forward, one step at a time, kicking aside Vyne as he struggled to his feet. "Why should the great Master be so interested in you all?"

Atar didn't answer. The mage didn't think—he couldn't, or else he'd have laid down and not stood up again. He ran, his temper stoked by his still-active Crown and pushed by his own rage. Sparkbolts gathered before him in a spinning ring of carmine light. "I am not done yet!"

"Burn bright, little mage. Burn yourself to a crisp," the Arcid's three eye fires blazed in amusement. "You will never—"

"Bindings of the White Waste!"

Chains of frost burst from the ground, wrapping around the Arcid with a speed that brought Atar up short. He snapped his head up.

"BREAKING WHEEL!" Evie screamed as she fell from above, and her heavy chain snapped outward into a massive wheel of metal set on its edge. It screamed downward, ramming into the Arcid faster than it could react. Supercooled metal screamed and popped, and the Arcid was smashed flat by the augmented weight.

Evie landed nearby, her feet slapping lightly onto the broken earth. "What'd I miss?"

"Evie!" Vess said. She had pulled herself free of the wall and put away an emptied potion bottle. Her armor, much like Evie's was scratched and dented. "You were to distract the other Arcid! Did you kill it?"

"Not exactly!" Evie shouted back. Metal shrieked as the Arcid struggled against the weight of her chains. "They're really tough!"

"What? What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" Atar yelled. His Crown flickered and faded in the midst of his shout, setting a bone-deep weariness into his Body. He deflated and pushed his stave into the earth for balance. "Where is it?"

"It flew off."

"Flew? Flew where?" Vess shouted. She had leaped forward, landing beside the Arcid with her partisan leveled.

Ice chains snapped and popped, while the Arcid started to twist violently. Atar backed up, his drained Mana and Stamina no match for the creature. The others would take care of it. He needed to get back to the cage. Only his flames had any effect on them.

The sound of pulverizing ice brought him up short. Atar gasped and looked back at the cage to find it shattered into pieces, and a stumbling Nevia holding onto one of the bars. She'd clearly drained all of her Mana, but her power over ice Mana had sundered it completely.

"...I weakened it for you," Atar sputtered.

More ice burst, and this time the Arcid stood up, slipping past Evie's binding chains as if he were oil instead of metal. Though its face was merely an elaborate armored helmet, Atar could tell it was angry beyond measure.

"Y-you—" it spat as it drew itself to full height once again. "You dare!"

"Yeah. We dare."

Harn, his helmet and axes returned, stepped free of his broken cage. Silver fire flared along the length of the weapons, as bright as the moon. The Arcid took a single step back.

"Time we had a talk, Slippery." He spun his axes. "One on one."

The Tower shook.

"What is that?" Felix asked Pit. He was cradling the small, frail body of the Geist, having lifted him gently from the hard ground. There was a flash of light and Pit manifested once again, though the stone Ogres took up a lot of space in the room.

Enemy, Pit sent. He sniffed the air. Smells of...wind.

"The air-attuned Arcid," Vvim said with difficulty. He hadn't passed out, like Felix assumed, but he was weak. Alarmingly so; his voice sounded like he was pushing mud through a straw. "Your distraction did not hold it."

Evie. Were they all okay? He fought back the urge to rush out and find out. He had to finish this first. "C'mon, Vvim. You gotta come with me. Can you walk?"

"This one...cannot, Felix. The Tower is too damaged."

"Why does that matter?"

He is connected to it, Karys said in realization. His Mind and Spirit are tethered to it, like an Eidolon.

"Your...sword is correct. This one is...nothing more than the Tower itself, and it is falling apart." A wracking cough took him, until he was trembling and even paler than usual. Felix held on, trying to be as gentle as possible. "I...it is how we have survived so long. This one was—was never so powerful as our brothers and sisters. But to escape the Ruin, this one bound Spirit and Mind to the Tower in hopes that it's mighty enchantments would survive the ending of our world." He shuddered again, and Felix realized the ancient creature was laughing weakly. "It worked too well. While so many of the family burned away, scoured from the world and memory itself...this one remained. For far too long."

The Ruin. Felix's breath quickened as his Mind shied away from something, a Memory. He realized he was sweating, panting, and the Geist was watching him with rheumy eyes.

"Yes. You saw the briefest glimpse of it. This one's Memory, bore a piece of the Ruin when it struck in Ages past. Your Mind struggles to grasp its true nature...even through Memory, it hoards its secrets jealously."

"Is that why I'm missing time?" Felix asked. "Why I can't—I don't remember the ending of the Memory you sent me."

"The Ruin cannot be seen or recalled, not unless it has touched you. And unless you are blessed or cursed by fate, that touch will unmake you regardless." Vvim shuddered again, this time in fear. "Were that this one was unmade, all those Ages ago. This one had hoped to...convince you to sunder those connections with your sorcery when we first met," Vvim said. His breathing was wet and thick. "It is not often one's life is ended by irony."

Felix wasn't in the mood for jokes. Instead he flicked through his Skill list, wondering if any of his abilities could stave off the old man's demise. He had too much information to die here. About the Ruin, the Nym, all of it.

"What if I use Stone Shape to rebuild the Tower? Would that keep you alive?"

"It is more than that," Vvim said. "The Arcids have struck at my connection itself. It's just a matter of time, now."

Felix clenched his jaw and Pit whined. The tenku shuffled his feet, unsure what he could do to help.

Felix, Karys said.

"Yeah?"

What of your Transcendent Skill?

"Adamant Discord? How would that help?" Felix asked.

No. Unite the Lost. I can see some of your memories. I see how you have used it in the past. It is not a Skill I am familiar with, or had any idea could exist, but it is powerful.

"No," Vvim said. "That you have unearthed that Skill is...it is dangerous, Felix Nevarre. To yourself most of all."

"Will it save you?" Felix asked, already eyeing the strange, convoluted pattern of the Skill.

"Un-unknown," Vvim said. "That Skill...it drains significance, Felix. It drains that which you are to fuel that which has been. You...you mustn't use it. Not for this."

"Not your choice, Vvim," Felix said.

Unite the Lost.

The pattern surged with light, spinning into activity like whirling dervish, and vibrations shook through all of him. Felix felt lightheaded, suddenly, but he didn't stop. He willed the Skill at Vvim, at the connections he sensed between the Geist and the Tower. Something within him locked in place.

Then the pain began.

"AAAGGH," Felix screamed through his teeth. It felt like clawed hands were gutting him, as if a creature had reached into his chest and began scooping out everything that made him, him. It bypassed his pain resistance, the Song of Absolution utterly ineffectual against it's onslaught.

Felix! Pit and Karys cried in unison.

Trembling, Felix directed a stream of Essence down into the Skill. The tendril touched, and instantly his store was utterly drained. Every ounce of Essence was consumed as the Skill attempted to change Vvim's fate...and it was gone before it could even budge a single connection.

Shaking, Felix cut off the Skill.

Unite the Lost is level 14!

Unite the Lost is level 15!

Unite the Lost is level 16!

...

Unite the Lost is level 22!

He laid there, bent over Vvim's body, for what felt like hours. Felix's stats and Aspects, everything about him, felt strained and raw. As if he'd just barely avoided falling from a precipice at the roof of the world. He clung, bloody-fingered, to the ledge until he managed to pull himself back.

"It is...useless, Felix Nevarre," Vvim breathed. "Do not burn yourself up for this one. It is time." Vvim put a clawed finger to his temple and pulled back, extracting a brilliant light from inside his skull. It took only a glance for Felix to recognize that it was another Memory. "This is what you need to know. What this one can...give to you fully here. The Archon is—was—a mortal. He was sealed to that armored Body. We were there, this one's family. At the trial."

"A criminal," Felix said.

The worst of criminals if he were to be bound against his will, Karys added. A punishment that would be a living torment.

"More than that. His crimes helped unleash the Greater Primordial that you know so well, Felix. And after that? His experiments cost many lives and souls. He perverted the Eidolons, the brave guardians given second life."

Karys gasped in horror. No!

"Yes. As punishment, his Mind was shredded and his Spirit bound to ageless metal of his own design. So that he would serve the Nym forever in the abomination he created."

Such a punishment was too light!

"So he was a Nym, too," Felix said.

"No."

"No? He was—was he a Geist?" Felix asked.

The Tower shook again, and Vvim's expression stiffened. "It...is why his crime was...so heinous. He was the hope of the War. His creations helped turn the tide of battle before we knew what they were. Nothing is so terrible as a hero...turned villainous."

"A hero? So he wasn't Nym, then what—?"

"He is Unbound, Felix Nevarre."

The Tower shook, far harder this time, but Felix barely felt it.

"The Archon is Unbound."

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