Flights of Fantasy - The Pub Fantasy Smackdowns

Virus Storm - Part 3

For several days they'd headed north, the electrical storm chasing them from the south and the Vir howling in pursuit, the fastest and most recent of the undead occasionally prompting a swift and bitter fight.

They sat for a moment, exhausted from the continual running. Tielo lifted her wrist and the jewel flared for a moment. "We're almost there, the Olymer is in just ahead.

Michael stood, the ghost of a smile gracing his face for a moment as he held out a hand to his sister. "Then let's get this done."

Tielo let herself be hauled to her feet and then pulled back circling her brother with both arms in a hug. "I don't want to run any more," she said into his chest as he hugged her back.

"You and me both sis, you and me both. One way or the other we'll be done soon. Come on, let's go."

They moved on toward the cave in front of them, arms around each other in support. As they got to within a fifty yards of the opening, Tielo stopped abruptly, a hiss of frustration leaving her teeth as she reached for her sword. She pointed to the tracks in the bare earth. "Crawler." The creature appeared in the cave mouth as Michael's blade cleared its scabbard, both of them activating their Stormshields as the creature charged toward them on its eight legs, the multiple bodies of its deformed dead melded together in a mess of limbs and gnashing teeth. "Go left, take the legs and immobilise!" shouted Michael as he ran to the right.

As they separated, the creature dithered, its multiple heads unable to compute the split of its opponents. Taking advantage of the hesitation, Tielo swiftly hacked her humming Stormblade through the creature's foreleg shearing effortlessly though gristle and bone as the creatures arms battered her shield. The creature screamed as Tielo danced away, her armour rendering her near invisible against the shifting sands, eight inhuman screeches echoing across the Burnt Lands. Michael, taking advantage of the injury, ran in from the rear of the creature slamming his blade through the haunch of the thing, promoting another screech, then another as he backhanded his sword through another leg. The stench of rotting flesh filled the air as the creature skittered around on its five remaining limbs trying to defend itself against the two warriors.

"Hey, ugly, over here!" shouted Michael waving his arms.

As the creature turned to the noise, Tielo whipped back in to the attack her blade taking another limb from under the creature, making it stagger and thrash. A few more feints and attacks and the Crawler lay on the ground, a multitude of arms flailing and heads screaming. Methodically they took off the limbs, finally taking off the heads, Tielo cutting the final head with a tired swing that all but took her off her feet as she overextended the blow. She staggered, and turned to her brother who was leaning on his sword, his face grey with exhaustion.

She too leant on her sword, gathering her breath. "I never did like spiders, but undead ones with arms that scream are far worse."

Michael cracked a smile. "Let's hope there aren't any more." He pointed to the crackling sky to the south. "I don't think we've got much time, as whatever that is, it'll be driving Strom's forces north in front of it, and towards us. Come on, we need to confront the Olymer."

The air crackled with power as they entered the cave, a strong ozone smell prickling their nostrils as they approached the chamber where the Olymer held court.

As the cave opened out, Tielo let out a cry and rushed forward, ignoring Michael's warning. Motionless, the corpse of Alastair sat in repose against a smooth boulder. His face was peaceful, serene and looking almost thoughtful. The body was desiccated and had obviously been there for some time.

Michael glanced at the Olymer. A shimmering pool of light hung in the air up against one wall, the hum of mana power a constant reminder of the concentration of ley lines leading to the mana node powering the Olymer. Occasionally the surface of the pool would flicker and words would flash across it, or pictures, even moving scenes. The skeletons of those who had gone before Alastair littered the chamber, the ghosts of past failures to understand the Olymer crumbling with time.

In the sand at Alastair's feet, a message had been scrawled, and Tielo read it aloud. "Command: Play message."

"Well my friends, welcome and well met." The shimmering face of Alastair appeared in the Olymer as Michael's hand relaxed from the hilt where it had flown on reaction to the voice. "The end is almost here. You have survived thus far, congratulations. Yet, you have little time left. Things are not what they seem in this world. The storm approaching from the south is the end of this world and if you are caught up in it, you will die too, or rather your mind will die. I do not have time to explain everything fully, all will become clear in time, but for now you must heed my words and carry out one more task. The virus Claimed approach, driven ahead of the end by Strom and the Vir. You must leave me and get to the point directly above this cave where the ley lines cross. Once there you will have to invoke one final spell, similar to the ones you use on your Stormblades. That will set you free. You must invoke the command and not engage with Strom, if you engage, the mana will die and you will be left powerless as the world we have known dies along with your souls. We will meet again my friends, on the other side."

The words of a spell displayed clearly on the screen in front of them and Michael, mouthed them to himself, his brain working furiously. The Olymer flickered, went blank, showed a swift scene of Strom and his Vir advancing in front of lightening struck nothingness and then went blank, leaving them in darkness. Lifting their arms, the mana jewels from their Stormshields lit the dark and they looked at each other momentarily in the steady glow and then ran from the cave.

What greeted them as they came back to the Burnt Lands was chaos. A wall of darkness stretched across the southern horizon, electrical energy flickering across its surface. Thousands of the Claimed stumbled forwards driven by the Vir.

"Quickly, we must get above the cave," shouted Tielo above the rising wind.

"You trust that mad old fool?"

"What else can we do? We either fight them," she gestured wildly at the approaching throng, "get swallowed up by a wall of darkness or take a chance."

"But what does it all mean?"

"You think too much, brother. Come on!"

The two of them staggered up the hill, scrambling up loose scree and shingle, battling against the ever mounting wind. As they crested the top of the rise, they stopped, terror flooding their senses as another wall of darkness bore down on them from the north.

Warrior borne instinct forced them back to back as they surveyed the incoming tide of darkness from both sides.

"I think I understand!" shouted Michael suddenly.

"Understand what?"

"Alastair's last message. Think about it. When we entered the message in the sand was 'Command: Play Message', we use similar language when we power our swords 'Com man dener gyca che' isn't a spell, it's a command 'Command: energy cache'. We're commanding something to do something, something that's in control of this whole world we now stand in."

Tielo glanced to the south as the first of the Claimed staggered up the rise towards them. "Do it, say it!"

"You're sure?"

She grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Let's go. I don't want to fight any more."

Michael grinned fiercely at her. "Command: End program."

~

Darkness.

Then light.

Tielo opened her eyes. The face of Alastair came into her view, smiling broadly. "Congratulations Commander, you and Michael are the first to make it through. You have been trained to survive in a world now destroyed by a computer virus. Reality is a lot stranger, but your skills will serve you well as you teach the others who survive with you to live in the new world beyond this dome and its newly waking inhabitants. Welcome to the future: welcome to your new home." 

~~~ The End ~~~