Eihm realised that he was still alive. Reaching for his senses, trying to engage his eyes, fingers and mouth, his second realisation was that alive was not quite correct. He was thinking, somehow, but not fully living. In his memory was the all-encompassing yellow light, but it was only a memory. Around him was a complete and utter blackness. He could not see his own body, and when he tried to move there was no change, but he distinctly felt himself bound with impossible tightness. It was almost like... his sleep, and the nightmares that plagued it. But nothing was happening. There were no spears, no phantoms, no pain.
Then the yellow light returned, pulsing from some point in the distant void, growing larger and brighter, until Eihm could make out some sort of form within the light. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD0B5ZPGRmV
It was hideous. A hulking, grotesque human-like creature that could not seem to maintain a solid form. It oozed and slid over itself, incessantly attempting to rearrange itself in order to keep some semblance of form. It made noises; gross, gurgling sounds alongside a hot hissing and high-pitched scream, like a dry corn kernel before it pops. As it drew nearer, and the thing’s shambling stature was clear, Eihm realised that the sounds that it made had resolved into some sort of speech.
“... and running, you’re so (high-pitched hiss) infuriating! Cold water, moving water, stealer of heat, what a wretched ally. Air, putrid air, easy to burn but there’s so damn much! Just burn, you stupid child. Burn burn burn!” It reached out a liquid limb that wavered in the air as it fought against its own liquification. “I will turn you to a steaming...”
“Enough!” A low, booming voice made the creature ripple and stop some distance away. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBe91yqdDC4
“Hoohoo, yes,” it gurgled, “you’re one of the fun ones! Come out come out, brother, and melt along with your stupid little cage!”
Eihm could sense, on the edge of his vision, a red glow pulsing to prominence on his right. Just like the thing, bathed in its yellow light, the red glow slowly grew and came closer until it resolved into a form. The yellow ooze gurgled in delight as another figure emerged from the light in front of Eihm. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡycPukBUjkJ
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It was a human-like being taller and more intimidating than the other creature, haloed in a deep crimson which made the void-space around it shimmer as if to avoid touching the bloody colour. The figure was broad and bulky, but its silhouette was chaotic and angular. From its burgundy body, dry and cracking like old wood, stuck out large, thick and sharp spines that gave the impression of protruding bone. These branches, jutting out from limbs and ribs and shoulders at inconsistent points, were battered, beaten and splintered. Eihm could not help but react in pain at the sight of the mangled arrangement of the thing’s body. It growled, causing all of its ends to vibrate slightly, and with pained effort the wrecked Red stepped between Eihm and the oozing Yellow. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGt7Np4XU7C
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“I am Destruction and Sunder. I am she that un-creates, that deals in destruction. You have made a grave error to show yourself in front of me, brother.”
The Yellow made energetic squelching noises, of glee or terror Eihm could not tell. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi9bNq3tkzw
“A sister, a sister,” it hissed. It made more sounds, stewing in its own boiling juices, then screamed “There are no sisters! Brothers only, demons and devils are we, fated to kill each other eternally. There are no sisters!”
The large Red raised its arms to its side with a cracking of its body and clacking of bones colliding, and proclaimed, “Here I am brother, to kill you! Accept it or do not, but there is no avoiding your fate at my hands.” She levelled its right hand in front of her and clenched her large fingers into a fist with a loud snap.
The Yellow gurgled, puzzled, and then said “My vessel is better than yours, you know. He won’t let me melt everything, you know how these infernal monks are, but with my devilish heat he devours the hottest knowledge of the Devil Realm. We’ve readied the killing blow on your puny little sapling already. I’m just here to melt his soul down to zero! Let it go already, and die with him. I’m sure you’ll have better luck with whatever squalling mortal you’re chained to the next time.” It laughed and chortled with sickening slaps of its convulsing body.
The Red burst through Yellow’s laughter with a boom of defiance, her irregularly spined body bristling in anger. “You think me naïve, brother, because you have faced no Devil like me. But I know of the insane laws that bind us to these mortal prisons, etched into the DevilRunes. You would vacate my cage of its soul, and then I would truly be imprisoned, subject to your masters’ wishes. I say no! I will destroy or be finally destroyed, and you are not one who can set me free, you laughable yellow leakage of liquid lies!”
With an ear-splitting crunch and snap the Red grasped and tore off a thick, curved spike from her chest that looked as though, if it had been under skin, it would have been a rib. The Yellow squealed and undulated excitedly, gathering his oozing mass with momentum for a strike. The clear form of a fist congealed itself from within its amorphous movements, mirroring the strike that, somewhere, Corna was levelling at Eihm. The Red flinched not at all, but gathered herself, through torturous-looking movement, into a pitcher’s stance that Eihm could easily recognise as his own. The yellow closed the distance with chaotic but vicious swiftness, and as it came within striking range of the Red, she unleashed all of her pent-up power and hurled the spike through the Yellow’s face, or where it should have been, leaving a gaping hole, the rest of the body’s momentum frozen in place. The spike hurtled into the distant darkness of the void, but the moment it vanished from sight it seemed to spin out from the deep darkness behind Eihm to smash into the Yellow’s body, and there it stuck. The red, flexing her muscular body in a stance that, translated from the end of the pitch, could only be understood as utter domination, flexed open the fingers of her right fist. The spike embedded in the Yellow’s gut exploded with tremendous force, causing ripples in the fabric of the void, splinters of the whole scattering at speeds the eye could hardly followed into the darkness only to re-appear and shred the Yellow’s gelatinous body. When the fragments spent their energy, and the chaos was done, naught but a glowing, pulsing puddle remained.
The red, not moving from her pose during the carnage, slowly stood upright with many cracks and creaks. Calmly she turned towards Eihm, and gazed into his eyes. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8gcYoJ0I4b
The boy monk, who was rendered absolutely bound, could not look away. The Red’s words echoed in his mind, with cowing force and power but without menace. “I am Destruction and Sunder.” She held that gaze for an intense, timeless moment - but something lured Eihm’s eyes away from hers; a gentle, green light in the left corner of his vision. He tried to look towards it, but could not turn his eyes or head to look. It came closer, the emerald light swimming calmly in the void, until it dominated half of his vision. The Red looked towards the source of the light and her rigid, cracked, severe face softened at the sight of whatever she beheld. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9f9CxdV3tc
Eihm felt a tentative touch on his left hand. A fearful shiver ran through him, but he was powerless. The touch, sensing his unease, proceeded no further. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMnQ65hBqJI
The Red opened her mouth to speak, but was compelled to close it again. She seemed to Eihm as powerless as he was. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBBKhwrcGxh
A gentle, rolling tenor voice spoke to her, and her rigid body relaxed at its sound. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNvYzKaYMJO
“I will protect him,” the stranger said, and then grasped Eihm’s hand in its own.
Eihm was on the sand, in the edge of the water, held tightly by the taught tubes that were sucking the life from him. A giant, disfigured fist was raised in the air above him, searing the air around it with heat. He blinked in the face of his death. The events of the void etched themselves into his mind. He opened his eyes again. No time had passed at all. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ21lX2j6Mrm
All at once his ears were assailed by the rushing of sound – the disturbed stream water, the crunching sand, burning grass, the Senior Monk’s bellowing warcry, the rush of air as his attack hurtled towards Eihm’s face. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtLewHVMhph
Instinctively Eihm tried to block the blow. He couldn't think of any use in it, though. There was no next blow in the series of a fight, there was no plan, but he fought anyway, swiping outwards from within Corna’s centre of attack with his left arm, the natural flow of their shared fighting technique. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK3cKuxYAfY
Eihm expected his arm to melt, disintegrate in the heat that buffeted and burned his whole body. But the block connected, and the attack went wide, pounding with a shudder into the ground beside him. Eihm looked into Corna’s face, and there was as much surprise in the older man's eyes as the young monk felt himself. But there was something else in those bulging, monstrous eyes – a bright yellow glow. In fact, Corna himself was glowing, with columns of green and red light emanating from the runes etched into the skin on his arm and snaking around his body. Eihm’s own arm was glowing too - bright green light as pure and solid as the finest amber leaking from within the runes carved into his own arm. Looking at his right hand, he saw a thick red aura - around a small, bloodied shard of glass that he had been desperately grasping before death had stared him in the face. It was not a shard when he first grabbed it. And there was a redness scattered all around the ground as well...
Within Eihm a switch flipped, his body pumping with vitality. He leaped away from the scorching heat of the Flame’s arm, severing the cords which were embedded in Eihm's flesh, which tore chunks with them as they flopped away uselessly. He clenched the glass shard in his hand and pivoted in a circle on his heels in the sand, roaring his soul out of his lungs as he battled with an increasing resistance that pulled at his right hand. The green runes flashed brightly, and the red glow flickered to emerald, and as a million tiny specks began to swarm and lift from the ground. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPxE9z9EQm0
Corna watched in astonishment as a multitude of flashing shards flew through the air, arcing around Eihm’s twisting body and honing in on his right fist. His muscles flexed to their limits as, from the arcing cloud of sparkles, a solid piece of transparent rock formed in mid-air. The shards melded together to, at the apex of Eihm’s swing, create a giant, ragged, sharp-edged chunk of raw glass, shallow and oblong.
With a final shout Eihm slammed the whole thing down onto the older monk like a club, shattering it across his back. Corna collapsed into the sand. The young monk gasped for air and gingerly moved his right arm, having pushed his lungs and muscles to the limit. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBPMNo5SEAd
The older monk was shaking, as if cold. Lacerations across his body were oozing with liquid. He stirred, bringing his smaller left arm under him to push himself up. But he fought on, heaving as he attmepted to lift himself. Eihm's face contorted into a vicious snarl at the sight, eyes shooting daggers into the man’s back. He raised his right hand, prepared to strike, and – simply flicked a single chunk of glass under Corna’s partly-raised torso. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDPgcP8nGJg
And then the young monk took a step in the sand; he walked away, leaving his barefooted trail behind him.
Corna the Flame, the Prodigal Acolyte, the Cliff, turned his head incredulously towards the retreating form of the boy monk. He yelled the name. “Eihm!” he cried, with all of his caustic hate and anger. He cursed and ranted, using forbidden words of dark learning to verbally assault the boy, to no effect. He thrashed and kicked in the sand, unable to lift himself from the ground, his engorged arm lying dead in the sand. He was too weak, he could do nothing – every hole in him was profusely leaking either yellow liquid or blood. He swore death, suffering, endless darkness and never-ending torment. He vowed to twist the boy’s soul, to tear at his most precious being. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD7eeZDxYUe
The young monk heard all, and reacted to none of it. The concepts being hurled at him were all too familiar.
Then, from within a stream of unfiltered ranting, the word ‘Ohm’ barely escaped from the man’s lips. Eihm did not hesitate. He flicked up his left arm beside his head and clenched his fist. All of the shards - lying in the sand, embedded in the older monk’s skin, covering his back - tore through Corna's flesh as they rushed to re-join the piece that Eihm had been holding, and had tossed down, to form a single whole. A thousand wet cutting sounds filled the air like static. When the sound rushed down to silence, Corna was lying face down, on a jagged chunk of raw glass, gushing steaming liquid,. Eihm halted not once, nor turned his head - he continued walking. He raised his right fist beside him, the red-inked runes stark and clear against his young skin, and flexed his fingers open.482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo48LKILD5j
The resulting sound routed every bird and insect from their hiding places in the grass for many meters around, and it seemed as though the Autumn Plains shed a reverse, black rainfall, which hovered in the air and then fell back to earth.
Eihm limped through the waist-high reeds, clutching his wounds and wincing at his movements. He thought that he could sense the runes on his left arm pulsing gently, but could discern no effect. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqUJ4nBlVHo
He looked to he sun, which was slowly plunging earthwards to re-join with the horizon into the wholeness of night. The young monk remained silent, battling against sleep with every agonising step as he moved with the lengthening shadows. He wanted to just stop, for all of it to cease being, for the world to be sundered and the pain with it. But he could not shake the feeling that, somewhere out there, there was a goal to be reached. That, if he could stay awake long enough to discover it, he would find something that could make him whole again.
Well that's part 1 done! I need to focus on preparing for the new semester, so I'll be taking a short hiatus until i get back into the swing of things.482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3gjLEfhYKD
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I really enjoyed writing this, especially since I did not fidget over quality or detail or pacing or artistry. It's just a cool thing, I think, that is not nearly complete yet. 482Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0O2q5ur1TM
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- Until next time
ns 15.158.61.20da2
