You Want A Battle? Here's A War

Fire rains from the heavens. Each ball of molten fury crashes around me, blasting soil, rock and the remnants of desiccated trees in every direction. Unable to escape the judgment falling from the sky above, Tension Masters and mortals alike are hurled through the air. The lucky sustain burns across their skin. Blistered and bloodied, they crash to the earth and bask in the gratifying agony of sustained being.

The unlucky: those unable to carve the requisite distance between themselves and the scorching death descending from on high, like their fortunate counterparts, they too fall to the earth. That, however, is where the similarities end. Eviscerated, as they have been, by burning rocks from above, the unfortunate souls caught by the full force of the impact shower their gore down upon the Blackshire courtyard. Whatever remains of them that even remotely recalls their humanity is trodden underfoot in the mad flurry of battle. Each part of them liquidised in a chaotic stampede, their fragmented bones and pulverised flesh join the bloody quagmire rapidly engulfing the courtyard.

No.

This is not a battlefield I'm qualified to stand on. With each passing moment, the dead increase in numbers, as do the enemies flooding through the breached walls of the stronghold.

I refuse.

The golems alone represent a significant force. If they were the only foes to contend with, I would still be looking for any chance to escape.

Absolutely not!

Here, however, the Golems are little more than cannon-fodder; the real threats have yet to make their move, and yet, I can feel them. Their dense rank-four auras and thick, unquenchable bloodlust suffocate the air. It forms a heavy miasma promising nothing but death to all it seeks to devour.

No, thank you, and goodbye.

Tension fluctuates from behind, breaking me from my thoughts. A girl parts from the surrounding medley, points a finger towards me, and lifts her hand to the sky. The fluctuating Tension the girl commands condenses above her head. It elongates and grows in substance until its translucent form is replaced entirely by rock, and its featureless appearance is supplanted by that of a worm with rows of sharp, jagged, rotating teeth.

The girl moves her lips. Though the cacophony of violence steals her words, I've seen the scowl on her mouth, her wide nostrils, and the sharp, pointed eyes on her face enough times to understand what she meant to convey.

"You killed my so-and-so. Prepare to die!"

Doubtlessly, her grievance is well-founded. I'm almost certainly guilty of whatever it is of which she is accusing me. I cannot begin to criticise the girl for seeking vengeance against me, and if she succeeds, she would have had every right to do so. However, that right is contingent. It's determined by the result of her actions. If she kills me, I would deserve her retribution, but when she inevitably fails, she will have proved herself the nuisance in my story, not the heroine in her own.

Working backwards from the imminent outcome to this present annoyance, It's already a sin for this girl to confront me. Who cares which one of her loved ones I killed? The weak have no right to complain, and she has no right to stand in my way.

I'll make this quick.

I gather orbs of acid to the fingers of my left hand, and with my right, I draw the sword from my side. Ice cools all passion within me, clearing my thoughts and focusing my mind. With my senses attuned through Tension, I see every bead of sweat dripping from my adversary's forehead. I hear her every breath as if whispered into my ears. The world seems to slow. Though chaos still dominates the courtyard, It fades from my perception, leaving only the girl.

'I'll kill you, you bastard!' The girl lowers her arm, and her worm dives into the earth, disappearing from the surface and covering the ground it penetrated with a new layer of soil.

I don't wait for whatever she has planned. Surging Tension through my legs, I charge towards my foe. Flicking the fingers on my left hand, I send five orbs of acid in the direction of the defenceless girl.

She smiles.

The ground rumbles.

The earth between me and my prey cracks.

From below, her worm reemerges. With its body, it intercepts my attack before sinking back into the soil and resealing the entrance.

Once again, I feel the earth tremble beneath my feet. Crouching, I flood my legs with Tension, leap backwards into the air, and rotate until my face is in the direction of the ground below. Rows of whirling teeth break from the earth and flies towards me. As I fall towards the rotating death rising to greet me, I stretch out an arm. Gripping the side worm's head, I balance myself over its teeth. I rotate the hilt of my sword in my right hand and pull back my arm. Taking aim at the girl below, I launch my sword like a spear towards her.

My blade soars through the air, rapidly closing the distance with its mark, and yet, the girl remains still, contempt written on her lips. With two fingers, she taps the shoulder of her black tailcoat. Concentric circles bloom from where the girl's fingers touch and space distorts in front of her.

Inches from its target, my sword stops, suspended by the distortions shielding the girl. The girl flicks her wrist; at her command, my sword rotates until its point faces me. Pulling back her arm, the girl draws my blade into the distortion. Releasing her hold, like an arrow strung on a bow, she sends my sword hurtling back in my direction.

I lower my arm before extending it fully, throwing myself from the worm's head and out of my sword's trajectory. As I dive towards the ground, the girl's Art withdraws back into the soil before bursting from the earth once more, maw open, ready to consume me. Gritting my teeth, I resign myself to exposure, channel Tension through the spiralling pathways below my shoulder blades and begin to transmute my body.

The tips of my wings break through the skin on my back. Before they burst through my coat, I cancel the transformation.

I no longer need it.

The worm disperses into nothing, and the girl falls to the ground, blood spurting from the laceration lining her throat from where "my sister dearest" severed her vocal cords.

'What would you do without me?' Walking from the still flailing corpse of the girl to where I landed, Huntress holds out her hand for me to take and pulls me to my feet. 'I'm serious, you know. I just saved your life. That has to be worth something. Perhaps a steamy night of frantic lovemaking once this is all behind us?'

'Eager as I'm not to indulge your nonsense, the sooner we get to the fortress, the less likely we are to die here.' Breaking eye contact with the madwoman, I point towards Alicia. Using her elbows, the scarlet-haired girl slowly, desperately, and with tears in her eyes, crawls her way to where Huntress and I stand. With staggered breaths, the girl drags herself onwards, painting the soil with the blood from her mangled leg as she approaches our location.

'Can you heal her?' I ask. Stroking her chin between her forefinger and thumb, Huntress slides her mouth to the side and softly hums.

'Why would I want to do that? That girl means nothing to me. If anything, she's unnecessary competition I'd do well to eliminate here and now.'

'If she dies, we no longer have a reason to be here, my plan fails, and the Dread Mother gets nothing.' Above the clamour of bloodshed, Huntress laughs. Loudly and unrestrained, her mirth banishes all competing sounds until it alone fills my ears.

'My sweet boy, don't flatter yourself. Mummy doesn't need you. Everything here was always going to be hers. Truth be told, all you've managed to do is complicated matters.' Sighing, Huntress closes her eyes, massages her eyelids before opening them once more. 'Give me one minute uninterrupted. I'll heal the girl.' Nodding my agreement, Huntress and I move to Alicia. I kneel and place a hand on my "fiancee's" shoulder.

'My sister will heal you; then we must make for the fortress. It is the only place that will be safe once our elders arrive.'

'Logan Mohan! You killed my wife! Prepare to die.'

Shit.

Standing to my feet, I turn to face the source of the accusation. A man pushes his way free from the surrounding multitudes; on both sides of the man, a golem stands, each bearing within their hands a broad-headed axe.

This is ridiculous…

Gathering Tension to the fingers of my right hand, I form five balls of acid and throw them towards the man. As expected, one of the golems to his side moves in front of him, shielding the man from my attack. As the acid burns a hole through the creature's core, I form a spear of bone-white energy and release it through the smoke-filled cavity seared into the golem. Through the smoke and rock, I don't see the man fall, but the satisfying squelch of flesh rend from flesh confirms his demise.

With my presence revealed, more Bishop Clan Tension Masters break from their conflicts to engage me in "honourable combat" for the sake of their loved ones. While Huntress heals Alicia, my movements are stifled. Of the growing horde of pests, not one of them exceeds rank-three. Fleeing would be easy, but doing so would leave my allies unguarded. Killing them all would be simple, but my need to conceal my identity and by extension, my true abilities render the task unmanageable…

This is absurd.

Circling Huntress and Alicia, I manifest barrier after barrier of Tension, shielding my party from the intensifying barrage of arrows, spears, bullets, and other ranged Arts cast against us. Fire continues to fall from the sky, happenstance, and nothing else prevents heaven's rage from reducing me to a crimson puddle. Sweat pours from my brow, stinging my eyes as I frantically orbit my party, wasting Arts that should rightly be used to escape this unreasonable situation in order to protect my investment.

I'm still too weak.

'Brother, your fiancee can stand.' From the corner of my eye, I see Huntress lift Alicia to her feet. Exhaling the breath I didn't until now realise I had been holding, I turn my focus from protecting the two women to the closet of my enemies.

With one hand, I form a barrier, with the other, spheres of acid. My opponent releases a swirling bullet of energy, but his attack shatters upon my shield. Capitalising on the delay between casting one Art and manifesting a second, I sprint towards my foe. His eyes flash wide, and the Tension he commands flees his control. The man reaches for his back and unsheathes an axe. Inches from the man, I lean backwards, allowing the horizontal swing of his blade to pass overhead. Before the man has the time for a second attack, I spring towards him, hand forward, and grab his face between my fingers, burrowing the five orbs of acid through his skin.

The man screams, but I ignore his cries. Grabbing his arm, I take control of his axe and pry it from his fingers. As his blade leaves his hands, the man's screams go silent, and he falls dead, the acid having dissolved every feature one could use to identify his corpse.

Axe in hand, I dash towards a second foe. Rapidly, she condenses Tension, reforming the translucent energy into rock arrows. Undeterred, I continue towards her. Dropping to my knees, I slide beneath her projectiles before leaping, axe forward, and severing her head from her neck.

Without pause, I continue to make my way from enemy to enemy, dodging, blocking, sliding and leaping from the path of their attacks before parting them from their hands, arms, legs, and ultimately, their lives. As my last foe falls, I turn to face the open mouth of my "fiancee" and the wide grin of my "sister". Drenched in blood, I walk towards my allies. As I step forward, Alicia shuffles slightly back while Huntress' smile spreads closer to her eyes.

'That was magnificent. Truly magnificent.' My lips part, but words fail to escape my mouth. Whatever I was to say is forever lost, banished by the rank-five auras seeping throughout the battlefield, robbing my lungs of air.

The elders…

They're here.