Amond sighed, looking at the reports. The ruins were almost bare now. Perhaps another day, they will have completely moved all their operations to the Azure Bay. They have been planning on moving this little experiment to a marginally more populated city, with a much wider variety of test subjects. But for this brief time, Antalya had been an adequate playing ground for them and their operation. It was far and away from the empire. No godslayers could know of their affairs here, and most certainly, the disappearance of a few drunken town idiots wasn't to raise any alarms. The only issue was with these underlords trying to find ways to line their pockets. They were easy to get rid of, and those loyal to them found themselves under new employment. His employment. And for the time, they performed relatively well. That woman Veronica kept most in line. Too bad she turned traitor; she perhaps could have found a place in Talin under his recommendation. But she became a liability. Thanks to the godslayers.
Godslayers. Just the thought of them turned his tongue bitter. Of all the places, not one but two, had found their way to him. It was as if Fate had some twisted humor regarding Amond. Fortunately, they weren't the most subtle of them all, they were practically bulls compared to Talin, and that raid at the docks was a siren that signaled their appearance. If only they could at least take one of them down. Unfortunately, the only gods around him were Hermes and Aphrodite, both equally frustrating as they hardly, if ever, communicate with him even if he is the direct representative of the Prime Noctus herself. They showed him little respect, as to be expected, and instead spent their time enjoying not being couped up inside stone crypts for decades. Hopefully, they will respond and deal with this thorn in their side before they ruin everything he has been working on.
There was a sudden knock on the door. Amond stopped what he was doing, turning slowly as the door creaked open. One of the newer recruits was clearly out of breath and stumbling over himself. But he was clear.
"They're here," he said. "By the stars, the godslayers have come."
"In the inner tunnels?" Amond asked, but the urgency spoke for itself. They hadn't expected them to be able to get here for another few days. By that time, they would have been long gone. But now . . . "Where are they? Are they close?"
"They were spotted near sector two. They are headed this way."
(X)
Remmus looked towards the woods that surrounded him from his abode. The rooms here were surprisingly well kept for not being occupied for so long. Then again, the empire has always prided itself on its diligence. It barely mattered; it wasn't like he was getting sleep anytime soon. Not with what he had realized. When he came, he thought he would find one, maybe two Talin disguised amongst the royals. But no, it appears that things are far worse than any of them had realized. Five Makhai and a godling. He could sense their presence a mile away. Nothing was like it, the immense pressure a god imposed wherever they went. Some can suppress it, but it appears this new Thanatos isn't as concerned with masking himself from the likes of him. No wonder everyone during that meeting seemed so on edge. They may not be able to sense it like him, but the aura that Thanatos released made the dormant spirits stir from within this hall. It was somewhat unnerving. He wondered if the others had gathered much the same. How couldn't they, especially Celia? Thanatos, at this point, was beginning to be a personal venture for the woman. And her daughter. He had marked her in the past, and her soul felt fractured and wounded. And more, inhuman.
"Master," Remmus turned to see John. He wishes he could see what the boy did when he just popped into reality like that. John just has a talent only for appearing where people aren't looking. But he was here nonetheless.
"Did you get what I asked for?" Remmus asked him.
John slapped the bag on the little table in the middle of the room. When Remmus opened it, it revealed a ton of books and papers taken directly from his library. He flipped through book after book, smiling.
"Excellent," Remmus said.
"What exactly are old necromantic tomes going to do for us here?" John asked. "It's not like such spells would harm someone like Thanatos."
"It's far too early to consider fighting that man here," Remmus said. "Not with so many pedestrians about. We need information."
"On what in particular, master," John said. "If Thanatos has managed to find his way into the Empire elite, who else may be in line with them. We need to weed out Talin someway."
"I'll leave that to queen Celia," he closed the book and moved to another one. "Tell me, are her boys doing fair?"
"You know it's hard spying on those with godly power," John said. "And as Lyse grows in power, the less I can pick up on his location. Edlund has arrived at Erusland and is making strides. So far, nothing connected to Talin has appeared."
"Hmm, so slow," he sat the books back on the table. "Well, you have reading material for the time being. I'm off the underworld."
"How long will you be gone?" John asked him, but he merely cocked a smile to his ward.
"Not long at all," he said. "Keep my seat warm at the trial."
Remmus opened his hand over the book he had taken. Immediately, one o the runes scrawled upon it lit up in dull purple light. The room became alive with radiant energy that began to collect around his figure until finally, in a brilliant flash, he was gone. John no longer senses his presence here or anywhere in this reality. It was a strange feeling to have. He usually is acutely aware of his master's whereabouts no matter how far he travels. It was uncomfortable. But what choice does he have? For now, he is to keep silent and watch closely for this Thanatos character. He retreated to one of the chairs, picking through the books he had gathered to pass the time. Most had to do with necromantic magic, and magic is barely used anymore by most mages who do practice dark arts. But of course, they have to deal with one of the few gods of this discipline. What a bother. He, of course, couldn't sense the presence of this god, but the mystical imprint he lay was as clear as day. It brought back terrible feelings within John of Nule. Thoughts he dared not dwell upon.
Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door. He knew who it was, knew she was coming sooner or later. Makyra was there waiting for him, barely giving a glance before walking the past him.
"Is he gone already?" she said in slight frustration.
John smiled. "You should know he has the patience of a wild tornado. So what was your inquiry?"
She sighed heavily, holding her temples. "Nevermind. I suppose I shall wait. Besides, I have been meaning to speak with you, John."
"Speak, eh?" he waved his hand at the table. Immediately the various books and bags disappeared, and in its place was a pot and two cups full of tea. "Let's talk over tea then, sister."
She reluctantly nodded. John knew she wasn't much for tea, but she needed it. The presence of a god has them all on edge, especially with no way to deal with him directly. Perhaps this shall calm her nerves so that he may console her?
She took one sip and sighed. "John, you know what's up with Moxie now."
The tea somehow turned bitter in his mouth. John couldn't hide the look on his face either. "Yes. What of her?"
"You know where she is," she told him.
"Yeah," he said. "Looking after that mad man. Perhaps now she will finally grow up and make the decision."
Makyra looked down at her tea, staring at her reflection as if it held all the secrets from the past upon its surface. "I don't think she can do it?"
"I doubt even Vance could-"
"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it," she said to him. "This is why she left, John. Do you have any idea how important this is for her?"
It was his turn to sigh now. "That sister of our has enough issues in her life. She's constantly running with nowhere to go. If it is by Fate that she musters the courage once more to do what needs to be done, then she will do it. Otherwise . . ."
"Must it be her, though?"
"The decision was Lizbeth," John told her. "If you have complaints, I suggest you address her. Though I doubt she'll take well to your suggestions."
"Fine then," Makyra set down the teacup to look at John. "Can you send her a message then?"
"I have time, I suppose," he said, though his lack of enthusiasm wasn't compelling.
"She's still a part of this family," she said. "You can never walk out on it, no matter how hard you try. She proved that last year. And whether or not she chooses to kill that monster, she is always welcomed here."
John drew his lips in a contemplative stare at her before finally relenting. "Very well sister, I will fulfill your request. Despite my feelings I am grateful for her work in the Frostlands and for rescuing Celia and Wilbur's daughter. So . . ."
"Perhaps then you can help her yourself?" Makyra asked him.
He looked genuinely surprised by her comment. "Me, help her make a decision? Why would I-"
"We both know she would see my words as merely an attempt to comfort her," she said pleadingly. "But you haven't spoken to her since she left us, John. Perhaps your words carry the potency that I lack. Please. You don't have to do this for her, do it for me."
She approached and placed a kind hand on his cheek. It was hard for him to argue with her. They had spent so long together that they might as well be siblings. His pride shouldn't disturb that, he knows. He placed his hands over hers. "Very well, sister. Very well."
(X)
Ryan has never felt this before.
Since he was young, he was taught to hone and control his emotions. So even in the heat of battle or the direst of situations in the past, he was very good at keeping a calm and level head. Even after finding out what happened to the orphanage, he was angry but focused and clear. But now, as he fought one Talin agent after another, each time he saw their faces, he was brought back to seeing Avery huddled and crying, cowering before one of them as they assaulted her. Anger boiled within him. Like poison in his veins and lungs, so hot and heavy it threatened to destroy him. So his consultation now was to kill them. Every last one that he came across. This intense hatred shifted something inst of him.
He kicked down yet another door. Like most of these rooms, they seemed to be in the middle of moving things and supplies. They stood no chance. Within a few moments, his sword was drawn and began. Some fired bullets, others bolts from ready crossbows as if knowing he would come. They were all deflected easily, as the power of Hermes made every movement swift and absolute.
Meanwhile, a few policemen fired past him into the room. Those too slow were riddled, while others were met with Ryan's blade, decimating them. Those who were left alive were readily apprehended and taken back to be evacuated, most likely just to be executed later. And as Lyse instructed, they burned all supplies they had. They were starting small fires in the rooms and closing them shut. Destroy as much of their operation as possible. Their time here in Antalya ends this night.
Lyse was primarily alone, acting as a point for the rest of the police to follow through. The deeper they went, the more Talin men and traps they encountered. Lyse could safely deal with many of these traps, using Avra to reveal their locations and deal with them accordingly. That just left Talin. Lyse noticed that those he encountered weren't as skilled as those he faced in Thiria. More than likely, these were newer recruits, the most loyal taken from the former underlords that Talin decided to absorb into their ranks. How unfortunate their careers had to be cut so short. Now and again, however, he would come across more of those shadow creatures, familiars, one of the police officers called them. They were pets of necromantic mages and often functioned as extra eyes and ears. Most did not approach, simply gazing upon him from down the hall before disappearing into the darkness. Lyse had instructed that every group carry a lantern, as these creatures seemed highly vulnerable in the light. As he came upon another room, extremely bare, with only a few empty crates. It appeared this location was closer to the surface, as he could see roots crawling through the roof. From one of the various shadows, clinging to the darkness for safety, the Talin warrior tried his best to lie still and hope that the knight would leave so that he may make his escape. But just as it seemed that the knight would do just that, he felt something creep up on the back of his neck. Before he could turn, the roots of the trees stretched out, rapidly growing, and seized him in an instant, taking hold of every part of him before he was completely immobilized. His attempts to break free were useless, as the roots were as firm as steel chains.
"Finally caught one of you," Lyse walked forward, one hand on his pendant as he willed the captured man lower till he was eye level. "Now I'm going to ask you something, and depending on your answer, it might just save your life. Where is your boss?"
Ryan came across the first Makhai. He first heard it through the cries and gunfires far from him. When he managed to catch up, he was left with a room filled with dead or dying men with one cloaked individual duel wielding black blades dripping with blood. As soon as it noticed him, its pale face contorted into a snarl and lunged at him. They were much faster, immediately aiming both of their blades at his chest. Ryan deflected both strikes, rolling to the side while letting loose two knives. One found purchase in its neck, but hardly did the blow slow it down, pulling the small knife free. It attacked again, swinging its blade in deadly arcs to slice him apart. But with speed at his side, he merely ducked and weaved, deflecting them with his blade. Finally, he came within guard distance. Avra infused into his short sword, and he slashed at the makhai's briefly exposed arm. It went almost all the way through, hanging on only by flesh and muscle. Ryan knew to act quickly with a follow-up attack, raking his blade across their face in rapid succession. They fell to the floor motionless after that.
Lye ran into the room, another group of policemen behind him with medical supplies to treat those still alive.
"Are you alright?" Lyse asked him.
Ryan let out a small breath before answering. "Yeah. Found their little nest yet?"
Lyse nodded. "Not too far. It's barricaded, but they're making their way through."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Ryan readied his blade. "Let's end this."
(X)
Moxie hated this room.
She doesn't know why. It was the room that she stayed in when she lived in Hath. When Lizbeth took her in, she treated her as one of her own. It was the first true home she had ever known. But perhaps that was the root of the issue then. No matter its best attributes, this room is a reminder of that place. Where her innocence was taken away, where she had died. Seven times, that was how many times she almost did it. Seven times she had descended into that prison and faced that man. Seven times, some closer than others, where she could have moved in, the decision was hers; it would be so easy. And yet, something else within her kept her from taking that final step. Vance stopped commenting on their visits. Usually, he had some speech prepared and some taunt ready as if trying to push her over the edge. But she doesn't want to give him that, give him anything he wants. But she also doesn't want him to live. And every time she fails, she ends up in this bare room, staring at her guns—the guns with their names on them.
She heard a knock on the door. It was most likely Blij, though the scent was off. He had been his caretaker during her stay here, a familiar role for the both of them. "Are you alright in their love?"
"I'm fine," she whipped the tears from her face suring himself up. "Come in."
The door opened, and John came with a tray loaded with various meat dishes. She nearly jumped out of her skin.Her favorite dishes. She remembers Blij making them for her when she was young. Did Blij allow this to happen?
"The cooks here are quite generous," he said. "They practically made anything that butler of yours asked them. Even enough for the crew."
"Why are you here?" she asked him. "You don't come unless you need something."
"Ah," John placed the plates on the table and dragged them closer to her bed. "If it were up to me, I'd stay far away. But I'm not here to talk about your abandonment, sister. So this is a favor."
"From who, Lizbeth?" she asked accusingly.
"Makyra."
Moxie let out a heavy sigh, immediately understanding why he was here. "Tell her I'm sorry I'm keeping you all waiting. You don't have to comfort me, though, John. I know you don't want to. I can do this myself."
"Nonsense," he said. "If that were true, you wouldn't still be here. So what's going on. Don't tell me you still have feelings for your father."
"I don't," she growled. "It's just. Every time I see him, my blood just starts pumping. I even transform from time to time just thinking about it. And I hate it. I hate him. But then, that satisfied smile on his face, like I did exactly what he wanted me to do. I don't want to give him the satisfaction. I can't, even in death."
John let out a heavy sigh. "We all sat aside, unaware of the evils they committed. It's not that I don't understand your feelings sister. But that you let them rule you. If you truly think that you are unable to, that is fine. I'll do it myself then you-"
"No," Moxie said defiantly. "I must do this. This is a test. If I don't do it, I may never move on, John. I need to kill that man."
"And your mother?" he asked.
Moxie got quiet for a long moment, picking at the plate with her food. "I . . . she hasn't said a word to me since I got here. I don't know why. Perhaps . . . does she pity me? Is she sorry?"
John shrugged. "Who knows. The Smiths are an enigma indeed—madmen who have certainly caused their fair share of despair. Created abominations out of the innocent. But you can't allow them to rule you, especially behind those bars. If the notion of vengeance isn't enough for you, perhaps a more noble cause will be."
"Like what?" she asked.
John sighed. She wasn't looking, but she suspected that he was beginning to disappear now, back to wherever he came from But his words echoed in her mind. "Don't do it for yourself. Stop thinking about yourself. Do it for all those who shared your Fate before. Think about the future."
(X)
Lyse and Ryan arrived.
The last few pieces left of Talin hidden in the tunnels were held at the supposed center. Barricaded by multiple crates acting as shields as they let loose barrages upon the only opening into the cave. Anyone foolish enough to step into the open will find themselves filled with lead instantly. Some shots were returned, but their progress was more than stilted with the awkward angle and cover. At best, they can simply wait till their ammo runs out. However long that would be. And more than likely, they will run out of ammunition before them. That would be the case if they didn't have two avra users.
"Sir Lyse," one of the officers turned to them graciously. "They have a hold. We don't know what's behind that door, but they guard it with their lives."
"How many are out there?" Lyse asked him.
"About forty men," he said. "I think about half of them are armed with firearms. It looks like we are in for it."
"Not a problem," Lyse said, then turned to Ryan. "Scared of a little bit of cap and balls, Ryan."
Ryan scoffed, pulling out both his shortsword and a dagger to dual-wield. He took a deep breath. It seemed every time he used the pendant, the easier it was to call upon its power. Once, it was unconscious, but when he concentrated hard and focused on the pendant, it slowly did respond to him—the speed and agility of the god fleetest of the foot. The power of Hermes flooded him, and with his natural abilities, he felt invincible. He rushed out. The bullets like slow-moving insets darting around him, he began to effortlessly swat them away with either blade. He quickly made ground, closing the distance to the Talin warriors who had raised barriers in defense. He leaped over them, immediately letting loose two knives infused with avra that punched through two men like they were made of paper. Others approached, firing shots while others reloaded. But this close, they were simply of no issue. He decapacitated them all in just a few moments, unconscious or at the business end of his blade. As soon as it seemed that they were down and police officers began to enter to take care of the rest, he let go of the power that flooded him.
And that was when it hit him. The intense fatigued. It had gradually gotten worse since fighting that centurion. Like avra sickness, he felt his insides burning up and his muscles pulsating with pain. He felt like he had just sprinted a mile. But more than that, even. It was as if this stinging sensation reached his very soul. He felt it. And for the briefest moments, he was taken back to that strange dream where he met the god Zagreus and that dark figure that attacked him.
"Don't overdo it," Lyse told him, setting a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "You'll tire yourself out trying to use so much."
"But we aren't done yet, are we?" Ryan panted and looked at the large set of doors.
Lyse turned to the police officers. "Secure this area. If anything tries to escape, capture them. If that's too difficult, shoot on sight."
"I sense powerful avra within," Ryan whispered to Lyse.
"I know," Lyse said back. "It's not a god, but I don't want to put these men in harm's way for no reason. So we're going in alone."
The police officers complied, dragging away all those left I've and creating a secure perimeter around this entrance. If any nasty surprises were left inside, they would be met with quite the sight. Rifled at the ready, swords drawn, they all prepared as Lyse and Ryan alone came upon the large sets of doors. Solid in make and bound by metal, it would probably take twenty me a piece to open even one of these doors partially. No, wonder there were no visible locks on them. Still, Lyse knew better than to be careless. With his sword in his off-hand, he grabbed ahold of one of the door handles and Ryan the other. They pulled forth, the force alone making the massive hinges groan from the stress. A gust of wind showered them all, buffering lit flames wherever they may be. And the coldness that followed was in itself deafening. Lyse and Ryan were unshaken as they were the first to enter the dark room, the final room.
The doors shut closed.
Lyse felt the movement, And immediately moved to try and catch them as they swung back on their hinges. But with a loud clang and click, it was clear that they were locked in place. The entire room was dark. Bizarrely dark. The shadows seemed to choke whatever little light came from Lyse's sword. It was so cold, and goosebumps were forming, and his hair stood on end, his breath making clouds in the air. And finally, the rotten stench of death. The pungent odor of decay that lingered before them was so strong that it infested his being. He felt the pendent slightly warm inside his shirt. At the end of this long table, in the shadows, was a single figure appearing to slouch in his chair, a pipe in his mouth with only the faintest trail of thick curling smoke. It took Ryan a moment to realize who this was. This was Bak.
"Are you sure?" Lyse whispered to him.
Ryan nodded, but before responding, they both suddenly sensed a powerful presence. The room that had been tranquil and still now stirred by an invisible force. That force, both of them know, was avra. They hadn't sensed him before, but now his presence was unmistakable. He stood in the shadows, the darkness clinging to his figure. He was a man appearing in his middling years with a worn face and sunken eyes. His beard, though we'll be groomed, looked weathered by age. And his cloak, though lavish in a sense, was not of noble occasion. Nevertheless, this was who they both sensed but a moment ago. He held a small orb of purple light that hovered gently in one hand. The same purple light that the shadow creatures before had within them.
"Welcome, godslayers," his voice echoed. "I would have thought we would not have the chance to meet. Thankfully I was wrong. If you surrender here, you will be shared the pain of me having to subdue you."
"I think you got the ring idea here, old man," Ryan said. "You're the one in charge here, right. Puppeteering things around?"
"In a way," Almond frowned. "What exactly are you on about? Don't tell me-"
"So, you were the one who sent that Makhai to the orphanage. Sent an assassin to kill Veronica."
Amond seemed to realize something then, and then a cruel smile crossed him as he looked upon Ryan. "You must forgive me, and it is merely a professional courtesy. Talin does not take kindly when rats like you meddle in our affairs."
Lyse could feel the anger radiating from Ryan at that moment. He clutched his sword. "You bastard. Your time here, ruining lives, has come to an end. So you can either surrender his do we can kill you later, or die by my blade now. The choice is yours."
"Oh really," Amond let out coarse laughter. The purple orb in his hand suddenly drifted forward off his palm and into the air. It began to glow intensely, and at that moment, Ryan and Lyse suddenly sensed something moving in the shadows. It seemed to come alive, from every shade and crevice as shadowy figures began to take shape. Their forms varied wildly. Some were animals: deers, bears, wolves, and raptors. Others were creatures, from chimera abominations to massive scorpions. Even some humanoid. All with that same purple glow that resonated within their forms. There were so many. And his pendent grew hot against his skin. And then fight, that light seemed to setup into the deceased firm if Bak and they witnessed as his body suddenly jerked backward, like a puppet on a string, throwing his chair back. His eyes, long rotted away, began to glow with that same energy. And from his stuffed coat, he produced two large cleaver-like swords.
"Very well then, godling dog," he said. "Let's see if your bite is as vicious as your bark."