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[Abomination]

He stood. He waited. Draug never sat, never slept, never did anything that would imply a hint of exhaustion or impatience. His only clothing was a dirty pair of tan-colored cloth pants, kept afloat by a tight white sash. Bandages covered the rest of his body up to his head, but much of it was loose, revealing the stitching underneath. His stillness contrasted with the screams beyond the stone doors. They echoed throughout the underground expanse, fitted on both ends with a pair of enchanted, nigh indestructible doors. The walls stretched several meters above Draug’s head up to the dark ceiling, where an assortment of torches hung and provided the only source of light. The underground catacombs that The Cult used to travel discretely throughout Corone housed many large rooms such as this, but this one was special.

Anyone that entered this room had only one way to leave.

As the screams died down, the stone doors slowly opened, and a man wearing a black suit vest, a white long-sleeve shirt, and black slacks entered the room. He had a sheath strapped to his back, a knife sheathed in his belt, and a blank look on his face. As he walked in, the large stone doors started to close by themselves behind him, giving Draug one last glimpse of the cinders and corpses left in the man’s wake.

Neither of them said anything to the other. Draug knew who this was: A man named Rayse. He was here to fight him, of course. Who wouldn’t want a chance to be humbled by the by the Dark Son? The Abomination cracked his knuckles, hoping that he wouldn’t be disappointed. Conversely, Rayse didn’t have the same expression of mad glee. He wasn’t here against his will, but this wasn’t his first choice for a summer vacation.

As a matter of fact, the sooner this was over, the better. He put his hand on the grip of his sheathed sword, Flash, but didn’t draw it yet. Draug stood still, not even entering any sort of fighting stance. The arrogant prick. Rayse figured he had to make the first move, and dove forward, his body bursting into hundreds of wisps of flame. To Draug’s surprise however, he didn’t appear anywhere near him, instead forming near the door on the other side of the room. He took his hand off the grip and felt around the door for even the tiniest hole. He had actually tried to go under it to the other side, but the stone in front of him felt more like another part of the wall, with only the outline of a door. He looked back and his door became the same, almost melding into the walls. Was he trapped?

Draug turned around, mouth slightly agape. This cowardice was known to him, which is why he took the precautions he did.

“The only way out is through me,” Draug said in a raspy voice. “The doors will only open if I die.”

Rayse turned around, placing his hand back on the grip, his expression unchanging. He figured something like this might happen. After all, the Abomination was preparing specifically for him.

Draug continued, raising his hands and pointing one finger towards the ceiling, “As soon as you entered, we started a timer. To keep things from getting boring, at the end of this timer… Heh, I’ll let your imagination do the work. How long is the timer? Who knows?” One of his fingers started moving to the right in bursts, emulating the long hand of a clock.

The usually-talkative Rayse didn’t reply. The Abomination was right about the enchantment. He couldn’t feel any heat outside of this room, and he could feel it through walls, so they were sealed off in some magical sense. He considered destroying the walls, but likely lacked the destructive power. So, he had to fight. Again. That was always the answer in his life. Never a clever strategy, or verbal manipulation, just swords and sorcery. Might as well embrace it at this point.

Rayse charged forward, this time normally. Draug was clearly letting him have the first hit, so he let go of the grip on Flash again and stopped just short of striking distance, pointing both palms at the Abomination. From those palms emerged a torrent of fire, engulfing the Dark Son in a blanket of flames. The stream of fire stopped and Rayse jumped back, sensing that Draug was about to swing at him.

The Abomination roared, a strong wind escaping from his lungs and drowning out the fires that nipped at his flesh. He stood, singed, bandages and skin sloughing off his body. The intensity of the fire was enough to melt a pig in seconds, but Draug managed to survive. The burned parts fell from his body, and were replaced by fresh, fast-regenerating flesh. Rayse was more than irritated, he had put as much heat as possible into that attack. If Draug had a natural resistance to fire damage, then this fight was nearly impossible for him to win.

“That was fun,” said Draug as smoke escaped through his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. “Now it’s my turn.”

He pulled back his fist like he was going to throw a ball, but his hand was empty. Rayse readied himself in a wide stance, and then Draug threw a punch, but instead of stopping in front of him, the fist continued to go towards Rayse, stretching until it reached its target. The contractor jumped out of the way, and the fist retreated, the the arm retreating back to its normal length.

Before Rayse could catch his breath, the fist came again, this time even faster. He dodged again, sidestepped out of the way, but as soon as his feet touched the ground, the other fist came at him, forcing him to keep moving to dodge them. With the speed of an arrow, the two stretchy arms were supplanted by a… third arm? And fourth? Suddenly, there were numerous fists flying at him from Draug’s direction, each one narrowly missing their target. It would only take one clean hit for the Abomination to turn Rayse into a bloody pulp, so he didn’t let any of those things get anywhere near him. A yellow aura formed around the contractor’s frame, and he moved so fast away from the flurry of punches that he appeared to disappear and reappear in Draug’s vision.

[Rayse Valentino]

As fun as the workout was, the contractor’s stamina wasn’t infinite. Draug needed to have made some sort of sacrifice for this speed, and as the attacks continued, Rayse figured out what it was.

He’s not aiming… He’s trying to overwhelm me with numbers. Which means I might be able to sneak between a couple punches and go for it.

If he was wrong, that meant he would run face first into an errant fist, but he couldn’t keep this up forever. He was on some undetermined time limit, which meant he couldn’t sit around and evaluate his situation. Ducking between two of Draug’s many arms, Rayse sprinted forward, finding a path through the madness. All around him were the extended appendages of the Abomination. Draug had generated several arms from his back and sides, and all of them were obstructing his vision. Before the Dark Son knew it, Rayse was under him, with his right index finger pressed up against Draug’s chin.

The next moment, an explosion erupted from the two. Smoke spread throughout the underground chamber, and with it the flailing body of the pyromancer. He flew across the room and hit the ground, rolling to a stop. He coughed as he got back up, one hand on his bruised hip. He had never attempted to use that ability at such a close range, but he knew that the force would’ve been enough to blast a hole in a solid stone wall.

As the smoke cleared, Rayse was greeted by the grotesque sight of a headless Draug, still standing on both feet. The Abomination’s body twitched, charred skin falling from his neck. Rayse took some deep breaths and clutched his chest, but before any relief could come to him, bone and flesh burst from Draug’s neck, reassembling his facial features and restructuring his skull. It even grew back his teeth and hair. Aside from being drenched in blood, he looked the same as he did before the attack. Rayse cursed under his breath.

How can anyone regenerate that quickly?! I blew his head off! I’ve never met an undead that didn’t die from getting decapitated. Goddess damn it, I should’ve read up more on alchemy before coming here. I still don’t understand what this thing even is!

Draug grinned. “Your weapon. You have yet to use it. Why?” Rayse had no reason to reply. Talking to this thing would achieve nothing. “Maybe you realized its ineffectiveness? Or maybe just the opposite. It’s something that you can only use once. Some sort of trick. I’m very excited to see what it is.”

Against his better judgement, Rayse decided to reply, “Is this how you conduct all your fights? Have your opponent at a disadvantage? If you win, do you really believe it was a victory solely by your own merit?”

“You can’t sweet-talk your way out of this, meat. Those doors only open if I die. Even if you took control of me, I couldn’t change this fact. So let’s drop the theatrics. Show me that little weapon of yours.”

“Have it your way.” Rayse put a hand on the grip, and this time he wasn’t letting go.

If the core of his regeneration isn’t his head, then it must be something in his body. Which means all I have to do is cut him in half, then cut all the halves into halves until I find the piece with his essence. Easy, right? Shit.

Rayse walked towards the Abomination, slowly at first but then faster and faster. He nearly disappeared from Draug’s view when he sprinted off the ground, his feet touching the ground for only a moment before he disappeared again, causing the Abomination to spin around in circles trying to follow him with his eyes. He lifted his many fists, and as soon as he started throwing them out, Rayse appeared in front of him and drew Flash. Draug’s vision went completely white from the blinding light generated by the blade, and the next thing he knew, a searing hot pain was spreading across his body, like a snake made of lava was crawling all over him. When the light faded, Rayse was behind him, the sword sheathed again, looking the same as he did before the attack.

Draug turned once more, and as soon as he did, another wave of light assaulted his senses. The impact felt more like a whip than a sword, hitting him in many places at once and then retreating. He roared out and slammed the ground with his many fists, causing a plume of dust to rise up. This turned out to be a mid-range attack, close enough for Draug to miss his punches, but far enough away from his poisonous blood. Speaking of which, the whip-like strikes had caused a lot of bleeding, so now blood was pooling beneath him. He ripped off all of his extra arms, leaving only his original two, and threw them around himself. He left a thin nerve to all of the arms, too small to see, but it left them connected to him around his immediate area.

When his sight returned, Rayse appeared again in a brief moment to bait out an attack, and he looked like he fell for it, punching at what was now thin air while the he was blinded by light. This time however, he pulled on all his nerves, bringing the dismembered arms back to him in an attempt to hit Rayse while he was going for his attack. The arms flew through the air around him chaotically, but they didn’t hit any pesky pyromancers. Instead, Draug felt a searing heat in his gut, one that didn’t feel like a whip. It was strong, and it punctured his flesh and kept going deeper into his body.

Rayse yelled out, standing right in front of Draug, pushing the blade through Draug’s body. He had unsheathed the sword but didn’t attack, instead allowing it to return to its Ebonpyre Blade form. The black sword had embedded grooves with lava flowed, so its cut carried with it a painful burn. He continued to push in the precious seconds he had, putting all of his strength into the attack. Draug felt more of his innards being chopped in half, and then finally the blade passed through him, leaving him in two evenly-sized pieces of Abomination. Rayse retreated after the attack a few steps, lighting himself on fire to burn away some of the poisonous blood that had sprayed on him. The Dark Son teetered and fell over, his top half falling further than the bottom.

[Rayse Valentino]

As Draug’s bottom half started to move to get up, Rayse’s eyes widened and he went to slice it up further, but as he got close, the top half suddenly reached up and grabbed at Rayse’s neck.

The Abomination’s hand passed through fire instead, as the contractor turned to flames and reformed on the other side. As soon as he was whole, he retreated to a safe distance. His breath was hoarse, his life still flashing before his eyes. If he was even a fraction of a second too slow, Draug’s hand would’ve passed through his neck like butter.

Holy shit… I almost....

The Dark Son was inspecting the sword, a malevolent smile across his lips. “Interesting weapon. I can see how it would catch a lot of people off guard. However…” He held the blade with both hands, and pushed them apart, snapping the sword in two. “Any weapon that’s not stronger than me is pointless. Back when my body was weak, I compensated with all sorts of weaponry, but none of it made any difference. They were expendable. I was expendable. The question is: Maybe I still am? Hah. Hah. Hah.”

As Rayse recovered his bearings, he noticed that Draug looked a bit different from before. The Abomionation’s features looked less defined, like they were muddy. His skin looked like it was dripping.

“What’s wrong?” Rayse asked. “Getting hard to keep yourself together after being split apart so many times?”

“Is this how you cope with fear, meat? Some of my more arrogant prey like to become sarcastic shortly before their demise. Shall I add you to the list?”

The entire area around Draug was flooded with blood, way more than a normal person should have. Rayse realized that the Dark Son’s regenerative abilities were likely not rooted in any physical part of him. Was there no way to split him apart then? Was he… invincible? No, that’s impossible. Everything had a melting point..

A year ago, I never would have bothered with this shit. Now look at me. This is pure weakness and nothing else. I’ve become just as manipulated as everyone else. How the fuck am I supposed to beat him? I’ve used all my finishers already, and… and he hasn’t even moved from his starting position! He’s been standing there the whole time!

“All out of tricks?” Draug taunted. “You can’t dodge forever. Sooner or later, I’m going to hit you. These half-measures aren’t going to work.”

Rayse raised a brow. “Half-measures?”

“Of course, meat! You give yourself enough time to dodge with each attack. You make sure you can disappear if things don’t go your way. I’ll never be defeated by such half-hearted tactics. You know what the difference is between me and you humans? I’m not afraid to go all out. I’m not afraid to die with each attack.”

Draug was right. If he committed to any of those attacks and put his life on the line, he could’ve maybe done enough damage to take Draug down. Yet, he always made sure he had enough time to analyze, strategize, and have another plan in mind.

That’s normal though, right? The point is survival. What good is there in killing your enemy if you die with him?

Rayse pulled his knife Kapteyn from the sheath attached to his belt. He was never much of a fencer anyway. He wondered why Draug would try to help him in this fight, but it was obvious: The Abomination only cared about the challenge.

Every second the contractor spent debating the risks, his time limit was approaching. Draug didn’t care about his prisoner, and the ambiguity of the countdown meant that he could fight Rayse even long after it expired. In fact, it may have been too late.

No! Don’t think about shit like that!

A red glow covered Rayse’s body, and steam started to rise from his exposed skin. He had the ability to rapidly heat up his skin, muscles, and bones- to galvanize them. The result was a powerful coating that gave him immense physical power and durability. The downsides included being unable to turn to fire, and a great toll on his stamina afterwards. It Draug had any limits, it was to his ability to regenerate. Its slowest so far was from that last attack, which meant that cutting him into pieces was more effective than burning.

Rayse raised his knife with both hands. Reaching down to the ground, Draug shoved his fist deep into the floor and pulled out a huge chunk of it, throwing it at Rayse. The contractor avoided the attack, and then charged the Abomination once more. When he got closed, he dodged under Draug’s punch and cut deeply into the monster’s abdomen, swinging around with the knife still wedged in and slicing all the way through the Dark Son’s stomach. Several arms grew from Draug’s back and reached toward Rayse, who swerved around and cut into each one of them, dislodging the errant appendages from the Abomination’s frame. Each move was calculated so that he couldn’t afford to turn to fire, attacking in risky ways and hoping he choreographed Draug’s responses correctly.

The Dark Son’s regeneration was obscene. Barely a second passed between attacks and the damage was undone. It was going against everything that Rayse knew about him. He felt like there were other forces at play here, giving the monster power, but couldn’t figure out what.

[Abomination]

Eventually, Draug was fed up with this, and every part of his body started to ripple like a raindrop hitting a puddle. Rayse instinctively backed off just as countless white spikes burst from the Abomination’s flesh, negating any angle of attack that Rayse had. They were made of Draug’s bones, jutting out from every available pore in his body. The contractor cursed as he ran around to find an opening, chopping through the spikes as fast as he could. However, for every bony skewer he removed, another two grew in its place, hardening any potential weak points that the now porcupine-like monster possessed. He noticed thinner protrusions, countless bones that were needle-like, nestled between the thicker bones. Then the bones began to shake, and Rayse felt a lump in his throat. He turned and started running, trying to undo his body’s hardened state. Reaching into his pocket, he lit a tar-based mini-molotov and slammed it into the floor, spreading thick, pungent black smoke across the battlefield.

The bones shot out like arrows, their numbers as if an entire nation’s army had loosed their bows at once. The projectiles punctured the growing cloud of black smoke, ready to eviscerate the man inside.

Draug shook off the remaining growths, his skin filling in the thousands of holes in his body. White blotches dripped down his frame, and his complexion grew more pale. He snarled as the black smoke from the bomb overtook him, taking away his sight and overtaking his sense of smell with the hot odor of tar. He didn’t have time to assess the mortality of his opponent, because the next thing he knew, a fist was connecting with the bottom of his jaw.

“You!” Rayse yelled, putting all his remaining strength into driving his right fist through Draug’s head. They were still in the darkness, but Rayse counted on the fact that Draug still hadn’t moved from his spot. “If it’s the last thing I goddess-damned do, I will make you MOVE!” He felt the bones in his knuckles crack as Draug’s body was lifted off the ground.

Unreasonable amounts of pain coursed through his body, his instincts begging him to stop, but he didn’t listen. While the larger bones had missed his body, the countless needle-like projectiles had embedded themselves in his body, piercing all the way through to the other side of his arms, legs, and torso. His face was spared because he braced himself at the last moment. The bones in his wrist splintered from the force, and at the end of the punch, his entire hand was shattered. Draug flew into the air, flying several meters before landing on his back, his plastered grin not receding even a little bit. The smoke receded from their immediate area, revealing a man that looked like he just had a bumpy carriage ride with a cactus farm.

Rayse’s right arm hung limply at his side, and blood stained his clothes and face. Every breath carried with it a gargle of blood from his mouth. He still had one trick left in his bag, as his body began to glow. One by one, his wounds began to disappear, as a previous instance of his body, caught in a sort of fire memory, replaced his tattered form. It was an ability only used in emergencies, since he could only do it once. Creating a new instance of his body required far more power than he had left.

Right as he thought he recovered from the pain, he was caught off guard as sharp teeth enclosed over his right bicep from behind, a hound made of muscle and bone hanging from it. Rayse looked at the creature with horror, as it lacked any facial features except for nose holes and an over-sized jaw filled with two sets of teeth. The Abomination must have spawned it while in the smoke, anticipating the contractor’s actions.

“Get the f- YEARGH!!”

He creature clamped down as hard as it could, until Rayse’s arm snapped off like a badly-made doll’s. With his remaining arm, Rayse desperately pointed his palm at the beast and unleashed a wave of flames, engulfing it until nothing was left but ash and embers. He felt faint and nearly lost his balance, grabbing at the bloody stump with loose skin and muscles hanging from it.

Thick globs of blood escaped from the wound, and the contractor knew that he had to stop the bleeding. There were no more ways to restore his body, so he cauterized the wound by allowing himself to be burned. He screamed out when he applied the fire, a deep red glow emanating from the stump he was holding. At the end of it, he dropped to his knees, his left hand gripping the ground in front of him. Sweat poured down his face, and his vision blurred.

Was this it? Was Rayse going to die here?

[Rayse Valentino]

He couldn’t fight like this. Wearing Draug down was no longer an option. He looked up at the Abomination, who was standing again, notably several meters from his starting position. However, Rayse’s punch must have been more effective than he thought. Draug looked like he was literally sweating his skin off. Like a leper, big patches of exposed flesh covered the Dark Son’s body. His skin had completely lost its color, and a pool of white liquid was under him. He looked like he was losing his shape. There was no way a little punch could’ve done that, right? Was this happening on its own?

The time limit…

Rayse got up, albeit with some difficulty, and looked at the monster.

Is it maybe… not for me?

Draug gave Rayse a round of applause. “Congratulations, meat. You’ve done enough for me to take this fight seriously.”

The contractor held onto his charred stump, still wincing in pain. “The time limit… how much longer do I have?”

“I have no idea,” Draug shrugged. “However long this body lasts, I suppose.”

Rayse knew that the Abomination was not a creature to be trusted, yet… why would he lie about this? Did he really have no choice but to suspend his disbelief from here on out?

“Explain.” While Rayse was in no position to make demands, the monster suddenly felt very chatty, and he was going to exploit this.

“Do you know where we are, meat? We stand atop an ancient burial ground. But it’s not one where many were buried, for there was only one grave, and it took up the entire volume of this chamber.” Rayse looked around. Was Draug implying that whoever was buried here was as large as a belltower? “It was a fearsome creature, and I am uncertain if it was even human, although its frame suggested as much. When we dug it out, only its bones were left, but what struck us was the room itself.” Draug stomped the floor, causing a few cracks. “A few feet under the floor, the walls, and the ceiling, there is a special type of stone, forming a cube around us. We didn’t excavate all of it, but it’s there if you want to dig around a bit. This stone was enchanted, and our research found that there was the same trace of magic on the creature’s bones.”

Rayse did not understand why he was being told all this. Maybe Draug realized that the contractor could no longer attack him, but if that was the case… Maybe he was talking to a dead man. Secrets had a habit of spilling out, but if the one receiving it was going to be dead shortly, it was a perfectly good exercise in narcissism. Draug had a captive audience for once.

The Dark Son continued. “It’s the same deal. It was trapped, with the enchantment expiring only upon its death. Not only was it buried alive, but they made extra sure it couldn’t get out. We’re several hundred meters under the ground, and yet that wasn’t enough precaution… That made this creature very interesting to us. Using alchemy, we have restored its form. No mind, no soul, it’s an empty shell, but one I can inhabit. No amount of improvements to this body will ever compare to it. So, I had them augment the performance of this body as much as possible, at the risk of falling apart. That’s where we stand now, meat. I am at my physical peak. But it is still nothing compared to the new body waiting for me. As soon as I die, my essence will transfer and I will gain the perfection I have always sought.”

“So just die already! You don’t need me for that.”

“Where’s the fun in that? No, I will kill you first. I consider it a little parting gift to this body that has served me all this time. Be honored, meat, for I will show you my true form.”

Rayse grit his teeth.

What does he always say things in the most infuriating way possible? It’s all words he’s heard before, combined to form the most generic statements. But… if his death opens this room up again, then I just need to wait him out. I just need to… what the goddess-damn is that?!

Rayse watched as the Abomination transformed. Draug grew another meter, his arms so long now that they were hitting the floor. His hair grew down to his knees, and completely covered his face. Several new eyes sprouted across his arms and chest, and his muscles were thrice as thick as before. A long tongue hung down, attached to several rows of teeth. Draug’s upper body looked much larger than the lower part, and each arm looked like it could smash through anything. Before Rayse could assume that the new form carried speed limitations, Draug jumped into the air, then landed in front of him, causing the contractor to panic and turn to flames, appearing far from the Abomination. He was lucky that his skin hardening had worn off, allowing him to avoid Draug’s attacks. Forcing the Dark Son to get serious was a mistake.

Everything was a mistake.

[Rayse Valentino]

Draug’s voice was now deep and slimy, echoing throughout the expanse as if the sound wasn’t coming from his mouth. “What happened to all that bravado? There is nothing to fear. You have proven yourself worthy of assimilation. I will take your best parts and make it part of myself, as my final act in this body.”

“Hey,” Rayse coughed. There was a soft whirring in his head, like the sound of rusty gears. He could hear his own heartbeat as he talked. “H, how about we take a break? I can give you a good fight, I just need-”

“Hah. Hah. Hah. I know when my prey is on the verge of death. When their will to fight is gone, that is when they are no longer of any use to me.”

Draug charged at Rayse again, causing the contractor to avoid the Abomination’s massive body. The monster was fast, but he was still half a second behind Rayse. The contractor was in full flight mode, not leaving himself any openings to counter-attack. There was nothing he could do but wait out Draug’s body eventually shutting itself down. The monster threw one of his arms forward, stretching it out to reach the contractor, but it missed its agile target. The arm retracted, and more white globs of flesh poured down to the ground. He was leaving a trail of mucus-like plasma, yet all of it still seemed alive somehow.

Draug’s disconnected voice spoke again, “I am not blind to your game, meat. But once again, you underestimate me. I am not bound by limits. If you intend to flee to where I am not, then I will simply be everywhere.”

The white puddles began to shake, stretching across the floor and connecting to each other. Draug leapt at the contractor once more, which caused him to jump in retreat. He landed near one of the white puddles, where a white arm, devoid of any features except for a hook-like hand, reached out to try to grab him. He avoided this attempt at capture, but noticed that the puddle was not connected to the others, yet was growing in size.

By the goddess… they’re connected underground! They’re all still a part of him. I’m going to throw up.

“That’s right,” Draug said, guessing at what Rayse was thinking by his expression. “Soon, this room will simply be me. It will be our tomb.”

Rayse made as much room between him and the growing pools of white, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. Between the pain and the fear, he could barely move.

Get it together! There’s no way he can fill this massive room with that slop. Just keep dodging. Keep your distance. Keep your cool.

Unfortunately, things wouldn’t be so easy. Draug continued to grow, his form resembling less of a human and more of a mound of flesh. He yelled out, sending globs of white throughout the room, even sticking to the walls and ceiling. A huge arm emerged from his slimy body, growing in size and so engorged that it was more like a wave of water, with fingers just barely visible. It flew over to Rayse like a torrent and slammed down on the spot he was standing, sending more of his disgusting flesh flying everywhere. More attacks came, each one creating zones where Rayse could no longer step. Eventually his arms completely lost their form, becoming mere tendrils that reached out to Rayse like vines.

He ran from them, turning to fire and re-emerging a few meters away whenever one of them got too close. They spread out, trying to surround him, forcing him to nearly run into a wall. At the last moment, he turned direction and ran along the side of the wall, letting the tentacles slam into the enchanted stone. Most of the torches that hung from the ceiling were put out by the white liquid, leaving the only light in the room come from Rayse’s glowing frame. He could see the thing Draug had become in the distance, a giant mound of flesh that now reached to the ceiling. It was like an infestation. Before Rayse knew it, half the room was covered in an ever-growing white fungus. At the rate it was growing, he had maybe a few minutes before there was nowhere left to run.

I can’t run, and I can’t attack…

He heard a low voice from somewhere inside the flesh monster. “Grrgle! Mrrrk! Meeeaaaat.” It sounded like it was drowning. “Sooooon we wiiiillllllll be oooooone!”

Rayse stopped, lifting his only arm and gripping the air. A flame grew at his feet, circling his body and growing up to the ceiling while spinning around him, creating a fiery tornado that burned away the incoming flesh.

Every fiber of his being yearned to claw out of this crypt, and the cowardice bothered him. He was ready to face death before, what was so different now? Was it because there was another life at stake? Something- no, someone more important than victory. He hated the feeling. He considered it weakness, and it brought him nothing but tragedy. Everyone he associated with either died or worse. His profession was great, because nobody attempted to make relationships with him. That was the nature of the criminal underworld. Everything was based on respect, fear, and power, not how much you liked someone.

He had a last resort. It was completely theoretical, and the likelihood that it would backfire and wipe him from existence was high. It required him to have have trust in the unknown.

To have faith.

[Rayse Valentino]

I never felt whole. I still don’t.

He reached into his pocket. There were five of his small throwing daggers. In his other pocket was a small pouch of rune turnings. The latter was a potent rune augmenting dust, but since his entire body was a rune, it had the side effect of knocking him unconscious. He already determined that fire was useless against the Abomination, but if he could kindle another type of flame, it may be possible to wipe away all this white garbage.

After meeting with her, I understood that about myself. I tried to cover it up with women, booze, thrills, but none of it made a dent.

Draug’s mass was once again upon him, its bulbous form taking up the entire height of the room. Rayse disengaged the fiery tornado and escaped, pulling off the skin-colored bracelet on his arm with his teeth. He bit at the magical spidersilk, tying it around his daggers so that they were all connected.

It’s a feeling that I’ve had for as long as I can remember, and it will probably never go away. Killing Draug won’t fix me. Saving Taische won’t fix me. Maybe nothing can.

He made use of what little untainted land he had left and threw one of the daggers at the floor. As he dodged another watery appendage, he threw another dagger nearby. Since they were connected, there was now a line of spidersilk between them.

Maybe there’s not enough substance inside me to fix.

Like a geyser, the white liquid shot out from the ground near where he landed, accompanied by a tendril that wrapped itself around his shoe. He jumped out of the shoe, now half barefoot, and threw another dagger near the other two, forming a triangle.

But I think I understand now. I’m okay living like this.

He was the sole light in the room, and everything around him appeared to move and slither. This was no longer a room, but an extension of the virus named Draug Remi. Rayse continued jumping around, avoiding the remaining untouched corner where he was forming the essential magic circle. He threw the fourth dagger, forming an outer triangle with dagger one and two, but not the third, yet they were all still all connected by threads.

I guess it’s tempting to think of what could’ve been. If I had made this decision, or that one. If I had led a different life altogether.

There was almost no room left to dodge. Like a flood, the white liquid was cornering him. Several tentacles almost got him, whipping at his torso before he got away, leaving acidic marks that ate into his flesh. Another spray of acid got into one of his eyes, causing him to nearly bite his tongue. There was nothing he could do but burn it away and keep it closed. He had no more power left to turn into flames. Poison seeped through his body, threatening to paralyze him.

Like, what if I had kids? And then years after I stopped thinking about it, it happened.

He threw the last dagger, forming a triangle with dagger two and three. They were all connected, each relying on the others to do their job. Finally backed into a corner, he made a circle around the daggers in his blood, then poured the last of his fire into the threads. He stepped into the center of the circle, and while they stemmed the tide of white temporarily, soon Draug’s body will slither its way over here and finish him off.

Turns out, it didn’t change me at all. I wasn’t interested in being a ‘better person’, whatever that means.

He took out the pouch and poured the rune turnings over his head. The dust fell down his hair, covering his shoulders, and then disappeared into his body. He guided the flames, forming more intricate shapes in the ground. Then, as if it had a mind of its own, the magic circle began humming, the flames dancing out of his control. They turned blue, growing hotter and hotter, their intensity disintegrating the white liquid several meters away. It was the highest temperature he had ever achieved, and yet it was still not enough.

I did gain an interest in her regardless.

I kind of want to see the kind of person she grows up to be.

For a second, it felt like it wouldn’t get any hotter. The fire would stop at blue. But he remembered… it wasn’t a matter of heat. The flame he desired did not burn. Put simply, it eliminated whatever it touched from the world. He felt it a long time ago, and back then it invigorated him like a personal cheering squad. It guided him, and told him all the things he wanted to hear. He wasn’t sure if he actually heard anything, but it felt like it.

And I sure as hell can’t do that if she’s dead.

[Rayse Valentino]

The rune turnings started to take effect. It was pure pain, like his body was being torn apart. He fell to his knees and yelled out, punching at the ground with his only arm. He was wrong. It was going to consume him. He was just lucky back then, that’s all. The White Fire would never visit twice. The flame of hope, of purity, was just a legend. Yet, he couldn’t accept that. If it wasn’t real, then he would make it real. He stood back up and closed his eyes, wrapping himself in the blue flames. He sacrificed himself to the Alabaster Flame.

Just as he allowed the fire to burn him, he felt all the heat go away. He opened his undamaged eye and was surrounded by a white void as far as he could. Was he absorbed by the Abomination? No, this was light. It flowed around him, its radiance nearly blinding him, despite his immunity to brightness. His looked at his arm, and it appeared mostly ethereal. Only the outline of its frame was visible to him.

All of his pain melted away, replaced by a warmth he hadn’t felt since a particular day in the Fallinese desert. It felt like the world was gone, or he was transported somewhere far away. He felt a pulling sensation in his arm, guiding him forward. No, this wasn’t guidance. It was a plea for freedom. A plea to be released.

Rayse resisted for a moment, wanting to be wrapped in this serenity a little longer, or maybe even forever. However, he knew that it wasn’t possible. The White Fire was just letting him wield it, a short-lived kindness. He willed for the Alabaster Flame to be free, and with it his eyelids grew so heavy that he was compelled to close them. His form and everything else in the room was consumed by the purifying flames.

[Rayse Valentino]

It was hot. Hotter than it had any right to be be. Rayse woke up in his own sweat, blood, and drool, lying on his back on the stone. He could barely see through his one good eye, and what he saw was blurriness and smoke. He couldn’t move any part of his body, and could only manage short, gasping breaths. He felt like passing out again, exhaustion coursing through his body. It was tempting, like a whisper in his ear telling him how relaxing the floor actually was, how nice it would be to just close his eyes again.

However, he couldn’t do that. For whatever reason, he was still alive. The White Fire spared him. He struggled, his thoughts commanding the rest of his body to move, and slowly it started to listen. Even the most minor movements were painful and sluggish, his entire body begging him to stop. Everything was numb, and he ignored the crunching sound of bone as he got up. Upon standing, he noticed that he was on the other side of the door, which no longer existed. In fact, most of the hallway was gone, leaving only a view to what looked like a bottomless pit. In fact, the ceiling was gone as well, replaced by something he thought he would never see again: The moon. It was like a planet-sized god decided to drive a wedge into the ground.

The Abomination was nowhere to be seen. Not even a scrap of flesh remained. Rayse had no time to revel in this discovery, as he quieted his senses. He felt a source of heat, the same one from before, down the hall. He took a step forward and his leg twisted, causing him to fall face first into the floor again. With sweat pouring down his face, he struggled to get back up, finally making it back to the land of the two legged and using the wall to support him. He started walking again, leaning against the wall for each step. He felt dizzy as the world spun around him, forcing him to take a break after every couple steps.

He eventually made it to the source of the heat signature. Oddly enough, there was nobody down here. Everything on the other side of the door was quiet, with no monstrosities, vermin, or even insects to be seen. The door was thankfully a normal one, and as he reached for the knob, he noticed that the door was slightly open. He reached out to push it, but could not muster enough strength even for that, so instead he leaned into the door, allowing the weight of his body to open it. As it opened, he could not stop his body from falling to the floor again, eating another helping of dirt. He cursed and got back to his feet, but not before noticing the kind of place he was in.

With tables covered in beakers and liquids of various of colors, it looked like an alchemical workshop. Several large tubes were stored in the corner, and a few bookshelves contained ancient tomes. It was carpeted, and light crystals on the tables provided a bright, yet cool glow. At the far side of the room, there was a blue curtain drawn. He hobbled over to it, his heart racing, and pulled it open, revealing a bed. On the bed was a little girl, dressed in a long, white robe. She looked unharmed, but was unconscious. It was hard to tell if they did anything to her. She was still breathing, her mouth open and her chest raising and lowering with each breath.

He looked around and noticed a notebook on one of the chemical tables. Before he could investigate, he felt the room shaking around him. It was hard to tell if it was really shaking, since everything was wavy anyway, but then it came again, like an aftershock. The liquids shook in their beakers, and dust fell from the ceiling. Then, he heard a low, grumbling moan that felt far away, yet was loud enough to be heard from his position. He didn’t know what it was, but it meant that he had no time to figure out what happened here.

Rayse opened his mouth to say something, but no voice could come out. He couldn’t manage anything other than grunts and coughs. Bereft of any alternative, he reached out and put his hand over her mouth. As she began to stir, he could no longer keep his eyelids from falling, and let them descend over his eyes. The rest of his body soon followed, and he toppled backwards, letting go of Taische and falling backwards onto the stone floor.

[Rayse Valentino]

The next post was written by Taische. I have permission to post it on her behalf.

She remembered screams - her own, her mother's, Taodoine's. But she didn't remember anything immediately before that, and her memories after were hazy. There'd been cold hands and sharp needles, and something in the air that had tasted sour and burned her lungs. Even as the ten-year old girl clawed toward consciousness, she couldn't call forth any more detail. She didn't know where she was or how long she'd been there. She didn't know where her mom was. She didn't know why she was in the dark, stifling room.

Hazy shapes blurred into her vision when her heavy eyelids pried themselves open, and her hands gripped ineffectually at the cold stone where she'd been placed. Air thick enough to choke on filled her nose and throat as she drew breath, and one instinct kicked in when her leaden limbs found themselves unbound: the need to be free.

Taische rolled to her right, tumbling off the bed to land belly and face-first on the rough-hewn floor. A loud grunt escaped her, taking with it all the air in her little body. The child coughed and wheezed, forcing breath back into her lungs. Pain from the fall brought clarity, and when her eyes opened again, she cast them around the dimly lit room.

Magic mixed with chemistry on nearby tables, blending bilious black and green mixtures that reeked of poison. Every hair on Taische's limbs stood up at the sight of the tubes and flasks and the memory of needles. Had something been taken from her and added to these mixtures? Or had these mixtures been taken from their containers and put into her? She shivered and rubbed her arms forcefully, trying to push the prickling goosebumps down.


I have to get out of here. The child pushed her thick black hair from her little brown face and stood up, rustling the stiff linen of her gown. There was a door, and she could feel plants growing above her. If she could just find her way, she could escape. Before she could take her first step toward freedom, though, she saw a pad of paper beside her bed. The sound of quill scratching on parchment wormed its way through cloudy memories of pain and fear. Rage boiled up in Taische like lava, and she vented it like a volcano, igniting the notebook and the wooden desk it laid on, burning them to mere cinders. Whoever had taken her would gain nothing from it.

Her roaring wrath sent orange light dancing through the small laboratory, casting magi-science into horrible focus and harshly silhouetting a body on the floor.

Taische paused, looking down at the broken, three-limbed figure who reminded her of nothing so much as a burned out candle. He was mangled nearly beyond recognition, his skin was ashen, his belly still. If not for the tiniest spark of life she could feel in the near-corpse at her feet, the child would have thought the man was dead. Had he come up on her while she was unconscious and she'd fought back? Was he one of the people who had captured her?

She knelt cautiously, peering into his face. Something about the sharpness of his features stoked her memory. "...Uncle Rayse?" Her hand reached out to shake his shoulder, gently at first, but with growing urgency and force. "Wake up! Uncle Rayse!"

He wasn't one of her kidnappers, she was sure of it. The only two times she'd met him, he'd been more concerned with making sure she got back to her mother safely than anything else. She also knew that whatever had happened to him, she hadn't done it. Her Uncle Rayse was made of fire, and that was how she would have lashed out. Had he come to rescue her? Where was her mother? Why would he have come? Had her mother sent for him, or had he found out some other way? Had he fought to reach her so hard that it had almost killed him? What reason did he have to care?

"I just do, okay?" She had asked him why he cared the last time they met. That had been his answer. But it was one thing to care a little bit when she was brought to him or when he crossed her path randomly. Why had he sought her out?

The flame of life in him was weakening by the second, and that realization stopped Taische's questioning cold. Whatever he had done in the past, good or bad - whatever had led her mother to be friends with him at one point, and then whatever had led her to hate him - none of that mattered. She couldn't let a life be snuffed out without fighting for it.

Uncle Rayse is made of fire. Fire needs air. None of her shaking brought him closer to life, and a few desperate pushes on his chest didn't make him draw breath. She knew how to take air away, not give it.

Taische's white teeth bit her lip. What could she do?!

Air's like water, wee bit. Just thinner. Karuka's voice floated into her head from lessons past. Taische had never quite been able to move air like she could move water, but she'd never had a reason to. Now, if she didn't, Rayse would die.

The child breathed deeply and focused. Her mind reached out to the air, feeling how it moved and pooled. It had its currents and its moods, just like water. It was just freer. She tried grasping it magically and forcing it down her uncle's throat, but it fled her grasp. She tried to push it and pull it in turn, but it capriciously fled her whims.

Meanwhile, Rayse's spark was flickering dimmer and dimmer. He was almost out of time. So Taische, in one last, desperate attempt, visualized the path she wanted the air to take and asked it to move.

"Please...please."

To her relief, it responded, moving into and out of Rayse's lungs almost like breath. It gave Taische just a little more time to figure out what to do.

"Uncle Rayse is made of fire." The little girl spoke through a parched and sore throat, and despite a tongue that felt like heavy cotton balls. Speaking made her thoughts solid, and she needed to be able to hold onto them. "But he's all burned out now. Maybe... maybe I can re-light him? No, that's a bad idea. He wouldn't survive, he's too hurt."

She pushed her hair back again and pushed back to crouch on the balls of her bare, calloused feet instead of her knees. Her mother had explained how fire could heal, that it was a life-affirming element that could sear away sickness, burn away injury, and reignite the spark of life in the dying. She'd never had to use it that way before, though. But...

"Maybe I can re-light him."


Taische held out her hands palm up, holding them over Rayse's body. Little tongues of ordinary flame flickered into existence on her fingertips, growing and spreading down to her elbows in an eager and greedy display of hunger. As a living, breathing thing, fire needed fuel, and even though the young mage's power was enough to feed the flame she was casting for a long time, it would always want more. Unrestrained, fire would consume the world. Only when given direction and control could it preserve life, aid explorers, and spark creativity. Fire was necessary but dangerous, selfish but determined - rather like Rayse himself.

"Easy," the girl coaxed, tempering and mellowing her flame, feeding and manipulating it until instead of feeling like something simply living, it started feeling like life. She wasn't sure if it was right, or if it was ready, but it was the best she had. If it didn't work, she didn't have any other ideas.

But maybe, if he was willing to die because I needed protection, he'll be willing to live if I ask.

Slowly but firmly, she put her hands on Rayse's chest and pushed the fire into his battered and broken body. Like the explorer it was, it spread through him. Like the conqueror it was, it burned away injuries and infirmities. Like the life it was, it found what little was living in him. And like fire, it fed - it fed him and fed on him. The tiny flicker blazed back to life, then nearly collapsed back into an ember as Rayse's beleaguered body nearly couldn't handle a heartbeat. After a moment, it stabilized into a light within him like a candle - steady, but fragile.

A harsh wheeze and hack sounded from Rayse as he struggled to breathe on his own, and Taische caught Rayse's arm as he fought to roll himself over and right himself. He leaned on her heavily, reeking of burned blood and seared flesh, but he breathed. He lived.

Now they just had to get out of the prison, and the little girl was determined that she could support him if he could try to walk.