I watched my brothers die as we tried to take the walls. I watched them fall… and the Necrotechs—those twisted, vile monsters… they took the bodies. They took them into the dark.
My brothers came back to me later. I saw them. They were without skin, without flesh, without anything that… but I still knew who they were. Even with the taint of Necromancy spilling from their eyes, they still called out to me, they still remembered who they were. And they begged me to kill them. They begged me. They screamed! Even as the fucking Necrotechs made them fight me!
I can’t—I killed them again, and they cried out for ma! I can’t do this! I can’t do this! I need to go home! I need to go home! The Inquisition needs to eradicate this place! Nothing could ever make this invasion worth it! Let the Ascendants pour down fire until there is nothing left in the Abyss! Nothing! Just get me out! I won’t fight anymore! Get me out!
Why are we even here? What are we doing here? Why did they send us down into the dark? Why…
-Interview with Yellowstone Republic Sergeant-Adept Audrey Connors (Later executed for dereliction of duty and heresy by the Inquisition)
63 (I)
Endure
“You are a wretched thing. A revolting creature. A spawn of wrongness and taint. The Town Lord is a good man, but his goodness has turned to a flaw with you. He should have allowed us to burn you on the altar like the demon you were while still inside your own mother’s corpse. He should have… But he refused. And even now, he refuses to allow anyone else to correct his mistake.”
Shiv curled tighter into himself, trying not to whimper from the pain. Something inside him was broken. It hurt to move. So he stayed as still as he could. He stopped crying too. Crying only made them hit him harder. “I… just wanted food… Hungry.”
A boot slammed into his back and sent him bouncing down the last of the steps. The young Omenborn shrieked as pain exploded inside him. He cracked his head against the cobblestone at the bottom of the church, and he heard the War Priest’s boots pound closer. Something thick, warm, and wet hit his neck. It was too brief to be urine, so it had to be spit. The congregation was following the War Priest down.
Shiv turned. If they were going to kill him, he might as well get a good look at his murderers. The War Priest was a large, strong man with a long, black beard. He had glowing Prismatic robes over his armor, but his eyes were dark and hateful. And Shiv didn’t even know what he did wrong. He didn’t know why the matrons in the orphanage hated him, why the other children hated him, why absolutely everyone hated him.
“Look away from me, creature,” the War Priest snarled. “You are unworthy of gazing upon a servant of the Ascendants.”
But though a child, the Omenborn snarled in return. For what else did he have left? Crying and apologizing didn’t get them to stop. The world didn’t care if he was sorry. The world didn’t care if he felt bad. The world just wanted to hurt him. And for the first time in his life, Shiv spat back. He spat blood all over the man’s boot.
“No,” Shiv said. “I just wanted food. And you just wanted to hurt me.”
The War Priest snarled and raised his boot over Shiv’s head, intending to finish the bloody affair. Some of Shiv’s bloody spit spilled back on his face.
“Stop!”
The War Priest froze. The Congregation broke into a clamor. An automaton guard marched forward from across the street, flanked by two humans. Shiv looked at them, and he realized more people were watching. But they didn’t do anything. They were just going to watch as the War Priest killed him. The only person who cared was the guard. That guard… They'd beaten Shiv too. But just to get him to leave. Just a hit or two, nothing more.
“What are you doing, Master Halvus?” the automaton guard asked, his voice deep and baritone.
“I am going to finish this,” the War Priest snarled. “I am going to finish the Omenspawn, and bring—”
“You are going to get yourself executed by the Town Lord,” the guard corrected. “Publicly.”
The War Priest’s face twisted in disbelief and fury. “Why? Why does he protect this creature? For what reason?”
“Does the Town Lord need to explain himself to you?” the guard asked, sounding incensed. “Do you feel that you are owed an explanation by the hero of the Eclipse War?”
“I—but—”
“If you kill this child, the Town Lord will come see you personally,” the guard finished. The automaton looked down at Shiv with its glowing, green eyes. Shiv stared back. There was nothing there. No kindness. Just duty. “It doesn’t matter why he demands the boy’s survival. It only matters that the boy survives. That is the edict placed on him by the Town Lord, and that is the way things will be.”
The guard held up a golden arrow for all to see, and several of the congregation backed away. “A shot was fired. An order was delivered from Starhawk’s Perch—Master Roland Arrow is watching. And he will not forgive disobedience.”
And then a scroll was given to the War Priest. He snapped it open, and, with each word he read, his expression grew fouler and angrier.
Unable to help himself, Shiv laughed. A second ago, he thought the priest was powerful. No. The priest was just another rat in this city. Another coward. They were all cowards. All of them. They hurt him because they could get away with it. It was who they were. Whatever his parents did—that was an excuse.
Blackedge was a town of cowards, not heroes.
“I thought you served the Ascendants?” Shiv wheezed. “Is… is the Town Lord an Ascendant?”
“Silence,” the War Priest growled.
“Why—you’re not powerful anymore? Or were you never powerful? Just a coward?” Shiv hissed. “I thought you were all faithful. But you were just, just afraid. Afraid of me—for nothing.”
And the War Priest saw something inside you—something that made him flinch back. But he could not suffer the pain of his realization. And so he chose anger. And so chose to bring his boot down on you—not on your head, but on your arm.
***
Shiv snapped back to consciousness with a bellow of pain as his right arm fractured.
“Shiv!” Can Hu cried. The machine’s voice was thick with electrical interference and worry. “Get up! You need to get up now!”
Shiv groaned. “What? What’s happening?” And then, something hit him again—hit him hard. He went bouncing off the ground, twisting and turning, ripping chunks out of the land with every impact. Shiv grunted in pain, and with each hit, he remembered where he was.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Right. The dragons. The fight. He was in the middle of getting the shit kicked out of him. Apparently, it brought back old memories—especially unwelcome ones.
Shiv used the rage he felt from the strange, sudden memory of the War Priest and stilled himself with a gravitic field. He turned to face his attackers and took stock of his many wounds: a minor concussion, a fractured right arm, most of his ribs cracked, one of his lungs punctured, and his right leg partially dislocated from the knee down.
“Not too bad, all things considered,” Shiv muttered.
Then, seven dragons jumped him at once.
The Dynamancer brought a massive spike of gravity down on him, crashing against his own gravitic field. Shiv growled as he tried to push it back, only to receive a massive axe-strike to the chest.
Before he could be knocked back, the kukri-wielding dragon blinked in from the side and stabbed into his back again. His rearmost armor was practically stabbed clean through.
Can Hu let out a mechanical scream. Shiv needed to reinforce his armor before it completely came apart and the Penitent died in his stead.
He reactivated his Song of the Vigilant, ignoring how battered his soul felt, and he channeled a Woundeater out from his own body. It materialized in his hands, and he flung it outward, only for the dragon-knight Biomancer to intercept it.
A clash of crimson mana flared through the air, but the spell was caught and held in place. He and the Biomancer were nearly equals in terms of power, but he couldn’t fight it and the other dragons at the same time. He let his wounds return with a groan—which became a snarl of pain as the wind-dragon slammed into him from behind, dragging him along the ground. He was flicked up in the air a moment later. He tried to recover, but then a javelin of pure cutting force came from nowhere and cleaved into his right hand. Shiv felt his pinky and ring finger shatter.
“Shiv, listen,” Can Hu said. “You need to distract them. If you try to use your Momentum Core like you did before, it will only be intercepted. You need to stall the dragon with the blade before you can go for the Psychomancer.”
“I know,” Shiv said, realizing the automaton was talking about Sir Tarlow.
And as he thought of her, she immediately materialized, aiming a blow at his back. This time, he managed to parry her, sliding his body off course and causing her blow to glide through the air, like it was being dragged across a slick surface.
She teleported as she tried striking him again, but he knew this trick of hers as well. Once more, he parried her, and this time he flung her into another sword-wielding dragon with a tug of his field.
They crashed together, a brief opening that was interrupted as Shiv felt the Dynamancer grip him. Electric arcs splashed out from the Dynamancer’s hands. Shiv felt his armor endure the lightning bolts, but the magic that followed—the magnetism and the gravity—was harder to resist. It crashed down on him. He used his Momentum Core to drain as much as he could. Time slowed, then the wind dragon slammed into him once more, briefly stunning him—
Long enough for the enemy Biomancer to slam their field into his own, and long enough for the massive dragon axe-wielder to drive its weapon into his chest.
Two cracks thundered through Shiv.
His mana held better than his body did as he felt all of his ribs fold inward, blood gushing down from his mouth. The world went dark again, and only Can Hu’s call dragged Shiv back before he could plunge into unconsciousness.
He drained what he could from the axe-wielder’s blow; that was enough—his Momentum Core filled. He launched himself blindly in the direction of the Psychomancer, sliding along the edge of their axe. It was a testament to his durability that he left a long scratch on the steel, but the axe was adamantium too, and it didn’t break like the wind dragon’s hammer did.
He shot through the air. As Can Hu called out a warning, Shiv twisted himself just slightly through the sky, pulling himself to the right using his gravitic field. The kukri dragon cut down and missed.
Skill Gained: Dodge (Common)
Dodge > 1
As he approached the Psychomancer, he saw the pale-scaled Dragon-Knight chanting a spell. It formed over its head, and the dragon was on the verge of unleashing it—just then, however, a crossbow bolt hit the dragon in the left eye, and it cried out. The spell broke, and a surge of chaotic Psychomancy washed over everyone, but Shiv parried the magic with his gauntlet and took the opportunity to slam headfirst into its chest. The dense titanium armor the dragon wore folded inward, and he heard it give a feminine gasp as its chest crumpled inward.
But Shiv wasn’t done. If he was going to die this time, he would take at least one of them with him. He seized the dragon by the throat and ripped. He tore. Her scales peeled and parted one after another as the creature shrieked and tried to throw him off. Shiv used his Biomancy to tear his own throat out and flung a wyrm into her. Suddenly, an entire section of her neck unlatched, splitting open vertically. Blood gushed down over him, but the dragon had absorbed some of the magic. When the full effects did not manifest, Shiv struck again. More of her throat opened up, and he caught something arterial. There was so much blood over him that he could barely see anymore.
And then the kukri dragon was on him again, tearing him off her ally and teleporting him away with her. It was a brief jump this time, and they arrived among the other dragons just in time for the axe-wielder to strike Shiv across the head. The blow chipped his helmet and left him stunned—only for a kukri to slam into his abdomen and leave his outer stomach dangling like a flap of meat.
He was spinning through the air, but only for a moment. The Dynamancer caught him with its magic, and just then, the Wind Dragon drove an ascending elbow into Shiv’s chest. The dragon was going as fast as it could—but Shiv was still hardened, still adamantine, even with compromised armor. The dragon hit him, and it was the dragon’s elbow that snapped. The wind dragon cried out in pain, and to Shiv’s disbelief, the axe-bearing dragon let out a massive, barking laugh.
Adamantine Adaption > 110
“Pussy!” the axe-bearing dragon cried. And then it knocked another dragon aside as it reared back its titanic, metallic fist. The axe-bearer eyed Shiv with his dark-red eyes and smiled. A jagged forest of bladed teeth gleamed in the dimness of the Abyss. “All right, you little hard bastard—let’s see how you can deal with getting hit by a proper dragon.”
Shiv spat blood. “Sure.” Feeding his anger into his Gravitic Wrestler, he suddenly broke free from the Dynamancer’s grasp and slammed into the axe-wielding Dragon’s face. “But let's see you get hit by a proper man first!”
Shiv picked up the axe-wielding dragon, using all his strength to do so. He felt his anger drain dry. The feeling was calming—unnaturally so. His strength plummeted just in time for him to suplex the massive dragon head-first into the earth, upending tons of soil. Then Shiv brutally pulled the dragon’s neck at an angle. A loud crackle sounded from the axe-bearer's collarbone—but that was as far as Shiv got before the kukri dragon smashed him out of the air again.
He twisted and bounced, gliding through the dirt, but before he could get up, something hit him so hard he nearly blacked out again. It dragged him on for a long while, and he felt the tip of the kukri dagger drive into his chest, splitting entirely through his exoskeleton as she unleashed her Momentum Core. Shiv gagged and vomited blood all over the inside of his helmet. Then, Sir Tarlow channeled a beam of pure starlight, boiling into him. Shiv tried to wrestle it aside, but he was completely spent of strength. They crashed explosively into the earth.
As her Momentum Core’s discharge came to an end, Shiv lay there partially impaled, groaning and trying to free himself from the blade. The Dragon flicked him off her blade like he was a gnat, and Shiv bounced for several meters. As he looked down, most of his chest was a bloody, charred mess. His mutilated stomach turned again, and Shiv barely held back from retching again.
“There is nothing shameful about this,” she said, stalking toward him. They’d traveled a good few kilometers again; at least the other dragons were far, far away.
Shiv blinked as he realized something. Far away from the others… She just made a mistake. I think there’s still a little fight left in me.
“Can Hu…” Shiv groaned.
“I am here,” Can Hu said, though the automaton sounded hurt as well. “I am… only moderately damaged. Surprisingly. Your bones serve well as armor.”
Shiv sniffed. “Great. Good. I’m probably going to be dead soon. No sense in you getting destroyed with me. Just play dead in the mud, and I’ll come back for you if I can.”
“I wouldn’t be able to move even if I wanted to,” Can Hu said.
Shiv remembered. “Ah, right. Your skills… Thanks for everything,” Shiv said.
Can Hu responded with an uncomfortable beep. “I don’t think I did very much at all, Pathbearer.”
“Bullshit,” Shiv snapped. “I don’t think I would have caught half of her blows if you didn’t call them out.”
He unclasped himself from the armor and pulled some splintered bones off his face. He rose, staggering, and summoned a wyrm to drain away the last of his wounds. He winced as he did so. He wouldn't be able to use that for much longer.
“Ah,” the kukri dragon said, looking at him appreciatively. “Finally. You are human after all, underneath. But perhaps even deeper, you are not. So much raw durability. Adamantine Adaption. This is not a skill your people are meant to get.”
She spun the blade in her hand, switching her grip from reverse to standard. “So, would you like to see this through to the end?”
“Yeah,” Shiv said, licking the blood from his lips. “I think I want to find out if I can finish you off first, or if it’ll take you longer than for your friends to arrive to finish me off.”