jmclarke
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Chapter 629: Everything.
🕑 Added 2023-07-13 22:43:37 +0000 UTC“You have to let me out!” Carey cried.
Standing on her bed, the young woman gripped the bars on the window, transfixed by the carnage outside. In the village, all traces of idyllic peace were gone, replaced by a bloody deluge of death.
Panic surged through Carey, guilt followed soon after.
She knew why her friends had come; they were there to rescue her.
And because of her, they could all die.
She had to get out, so they could get away.
“Our friends are here and these evil, wicked fiends are going to kill them! Merzhin you have to let me out of here!”
The Saint of Uldar was staring at her in shock, his eyes unfocused. “There…what is…I don’t understand…Uldar…”
Suddenly, his holy symbol began singing. “What…the…the Fool?”
Carey had heard what the First Apostle had said outside. The revelation that Alex was the Fool. In other circumstances, she might have been shocked. She might possibly have felt betrayed.
Now, she didn’t have the luxury of time for any of that. And neither did the Saint. “Merzhin!” Carey cried. “Focus! Our friends are going to die!”
In the distance, the tiny form of Alex teleported from place to place, moving statues of Uldar away from the battle, and taking his friends to positions where they could deal the most damage.
He touched Cedric, teleporting him to the injured Champion then shouted something, teleported to the wall and grabbed two priests, then disappeared with them.
Through some miracle, he could still teleport around, despite the First Apostle blocking everyone’s mana except the priests’. Carey couldn’t feel her own magical energies, so then how was Alex able to trave—
Like a flame springing to life in a dark room, she suddenly saw it.
Travelling.
It must be the Traveller!
There was hope!
Carey leapt off the bed and rushed to the cell door, seizing the bars and shaking them. “Merzhin! Let me out! We have to go!”
“But…fighting…the Heroes…fighting…what is happening…First Apostle…Chosen…” He raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. “Uldar, help me.”
“Merzhin!” Carey snapped. “Are you not a Hero of Thameland?”
He winced, looking up at her. “What?”
“Are you not a Hero of Thameland?” she demanded again. “I won’t ask you to choose sides, but you must admit this slaughter is monstrous! You can stop it, Merzhin! Go out there and bring peace, for the sake of Thameland, don’t let the Heroes die. Build bonds, like Uldar did! Please!”
Another explosion rocked the village.
“Please, we have to go!” she begged, praying to the Traveller that she could believe in Merzhin.
The Saint shook, swallowing hard.
Finally, he squared his narrow shoulders. “If I am wrong, then Uldar forgive me.” He pressed his hands to the door. “Step back!”
In a blink, Carey fled from the door.
“Uldar, I call upon your divine fury! As you smote down the rebel fortress of Calvinar, smite this barrier so that we may go forward!”
There came a thrumming sound and a glow from beyond the door that was immediately followed by the cracking of rupturing wood. Metal shards and splintered wood exploded, shooting across the room, striking the opposite wall.
Carey suddenly found herself very glad indeed that she hadn’t been standing beside it.
She rushed through the smoking hole where the door once stood, and into the hallway where a paler than normal Merzhin stood shaking.
“The…I know where the closest exit is,” he stammered, staring at the mounds of debris scattered across Carey’s cell floor. “It might be guarded, but I think we can get through.”
“Wait, wait! I need to fetch my bag before we go!” she said. “It has something very dangerous in it that we can’t just leave lying around.”
“What?” Merzhin asked. “How dangerous?”
Carey flung her arms up. “Boom! That’s how dangerous! We mustn't leave it here, we absolutely mustn't!”
“How big of a boom?” Merzhin asked.
“It could annihilate this place!” she shouted. “Merzhin, people are dying, we have to hurry!”
“Right…right…” His eyes darted around. “They um…” he paused. “Our things are actually in my room. Come on. I had no idea I was sleeping beside anything so dangerous.”
Carey was stunned, watching him for a moment, before following him. “You had our things this entire time and you didn’t tell me?”
“They…they let me have them after they looked through everything.”
Carey’s blood went cold; then they were lucky that they weren’t all dead. The thought of some ignorant priests pawing through the dungeon core substance and chaos essence sent a chill through her. If they’d combined the samples by accident…
She shuddered as they ran along the halls of Uldar’s Rise. The escarpment shook; the death and destruction happening outside seemed to be intensifying.
“We have to move faster,” Carey whispered.
“Uldar, please lend us speed so that we may save those who follow you,” Merzhin prayed.
Strength flooded her limbs, and she stumbled, pushing forward as her speed suddenly doubled.
She regained her balance, staying close behind the Saint as they sped down a staircase in Uldar’s Rise two at a time. So far, they’d been lucky; not a single guard or priest patrolled the halls.
All must have answered the call to defend their home.
“Carey…” Merzhin’s voice was heavy with regret. “Carey, I am so sorry for this. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have followed Eldin; if I hadn’t, none of our friends would in this situation. Maybe I could have stayed back, explained to the others that you were safe—but you weren’t safe were you?”
His voice wheezed, his words sputtering with every step. “You were never safe here. I don’t know what’s happening anymore.” His chest heaved.
Carey prayed to the Traveller for guidance, and searched within herself. “All I know, Merzhin, is that you and I are the only ones who can stop this without more bloodshed. That has to be a good thing. May the Traveller guide us.”
At this, the Saint said nothing.
Inside herself, Carey reached out, trying to pray to the Traveller, trying to feel that sense of comfort that came with her prayers.
She felt nothing.
And yet, she did not feel alone.
‘You tried to help me before, Hannah,’ she thought. ‘You tried to protect me. Now I’ll do what I can for you, for my friends, and for Thameland.’ Carey took a deep breath to steady herself.
She had promised she’d give everything, if she had to.
And she needed to keep that promise.
“Here!” Merzhin cried, skidding to a halt on a landing. The stairs continued into the depths of the escarpment with a hallway that branched off to the right. “My room is near here: we go down this hall, then take a left, and it’s the third door on the right.” He pointed down. “At the end of these stairs there’s a window we can climb through to get outside. We’ll have to jump, but I can shield us from harm from that great of a height.”
Another explosion shook the land.
Carey winced. They didn’t have time to get the chaos essence and have Merzhin stop the fighting.
She had an idea.
“Merzhin, you go outside and stop this madness, people are dying,” she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go and get our belongings.”
“What?” he gasped. “You cannot—”
“We really don’t have any time to spare, look at what’s happening out there. We need to do both as quickly as possible,” she pleaded. “I’ll join you so my friends can see I’m alive as soon as I get my things.”
She didn’t mention the other thought burning in her mind: by combining the dungeon core substance and chaos essence, she could attach them to the construct and destroy these cold-hearted priests and their foul village.
Or perhaps she could blast a hole in the barrier around Uldar’s Rise, letting her friends escape.
Either way—if Merzhin failed to stop the fighting—she needed that bomb.
“But, you—” the Saint stammered.
“Merzhin.” Both hands were holding his shoulders. “We have to stop this. We must. Whatever the cost.”
“I…alright,” he said, placing his hand on one of hers. “Uldar, protect my friend with your holy light. May you deflect all things that could cause—Carey, look out!”
He pushed her away as a dagger bleeding divine power flew from below, slashing his hand then burying its tip in the stone where Carey had been standing.
She stared in horror as Merzhin’s miracle wrapped around her.
Had he not pushed her, the blade would have buried itself in her throat, not the stairwell wall.
“Saint Merzhin.” Eldin spoke from the stone above. “You are being corrupted, holy Saint, we can no longer afford the privilege of playing games.”
From the stairs above, a mob of holy warriors came, weapons in hand.
The Saint’s eyes hardened.
“Carey, go,” he whispered. “I’ll lead them outside. Get what you need and get out.”
“But Merzhi—”
“Go!” he screamed, pushing her into the hall.
Two knives struck his side, he screamed in pain.
With a battlecry, the ‘holy’ warriors of Uldar charged down the steps.
Whispering prayers, Merzhin raised his hands, raising a wall of light between Carey and the staircase.
She screamed as he took two more knives.
He conjured a shield of light around his body, blazing so intensely, that no mortal eye could look upon its radiance.
“In Uldar’s name, I declare ye apostate!” the Saint bellowed, his voice booming through air, rock, and stone. His form grew, as divine power filled him. His wounds healed. “I shall go and end this shameful conflict, follow if you dare!” He glanced at the stone around him. “Uldar forgive me!”
With a quick prayer he directed a wave of holy light at a stone wall nearby—one painted with an image of priests kneeling before an altar—and shattered it.
“Blasphemy!” Eldin cried.
“I strike stone and mortalkind!” Merzhin’s voice boomed. “You have strayed from Uldar’s protection, and you must be stopped!”
There was a tremendous flash of light as the Saint brought Uldar’s wrath to bear, holy warriors cried out. With their attention now fully levelled on him, Merzhin turned and fled down the stairs, singing a hymn in Uldar’s name.
“Stop him!” Eldin bellowed, sending Carey into action.
She turned and ran, sprinting down the hall toward Merzhin’s quarters. In the distance, she could hear sounds of the warrior priests pursuing the Saint, but his miracles of protection surrounded him as he put distance between himself and them. He was giving her time; time she needed to get the bomb.
She kept running, moving down the hall, trying to remember Merzhin’s directions as his blessing flowed through her. “Down the hall to the right…no wait, left!”
Carey ran until she’d reached the third door on the right.
No lock barred it, she noted bitterly.
“You certainly got better treatment than I did,” she whispered. “But, I’m glad you did, since it now works very nicely in my favour,” her face lit up as she pulled the door wide open and rushed inside, looking around the sparsely appointed room: her bag wasn’t on the cot, nor nearby writing desk. Maybe…
She opened the chest. “Yes!” she cried.
“There it is.”
“Stop!” she heard Merzhin's command coming from outside.
Even as she opened the bag, she was moving to the window.
“He made it!” she whispered, looking down.
Everyone still looked so small; I must be really high up in the escarpment.
She examined the window. “It’s not barred,” she noted. “But it’s too small for me to fit through…
...but the messenger construct can!” she cried. “I could set it up, send it to the barrier, and—”
She looked in the bag, quickly searching for everything she needed to set the bomb, then scowled.
The two sample jars were intact…but the same couldn’t be said for the messenger construct. Whoever had ‘examined it’ must have done so with a metal club and a severe lack of brains.
Its metal wings were bent, and its inner workings had been taken apart and the pieces thrown back in the bottom of her bag.
“No, no, no!” she cried, taking the jars of chaos essence and dungeon core remains out. “You absolute fools! The construct is ruined!”
She glanced outside, almost in despair.
Merzhin was fighting off the holy warriors, while pleading with anyone that would hear him to stop. The Generasians were fighting desperately, but more and more of them were falling.
“I…” the young woman started. “What can I…”
A thought occurred to her.
One that should have been obvious from the start.
She had gotten her friends into this mess—
Carey removed the lids from the jars.
—now she would get them out.
“Traveller,” she whispered. “If you can hear me—”
“She can’t.”
Burning pain pierced her back and chest.
Carey gasped.
The front of her shirt washed red, a long blade protruding from the centre of it.
“Ah, I missed the heart,” Edlin’s voice whispered, his hot breath on her ear. “You can thank the misguided Saint’s protections for that. They threw my aim off."
She turned.
Eldin faced her, behind him, a half dozen holy warriors stood.
Blood trickled from her mouth.
“I knew the Saint was beyond help, just as you are,” the old priest whispered. “But don’t worry about that now, child. Just sleep. Sleep in Uldar’s embrace.”
Carey's limbs were growing cold.
Weak.
But she was calm.
Oh, so very calm.
Even now.
After all, she remembered what she’d resolved to do.
What more did she have to fear? She prayed to the Traveller for strength.
Holding the jars, words choked out through blood. “For Thameland...I give everything.”
She poured the dungeon core remains into the chaos essence.
The reaction was immediate.
The heat of a star burned in her hands.
The world was light.
Sound faded away: cries of battle, the shouts of surprise from behind her, all faded.
All was warm, like a blanket coiling around the world.
She felt Eldin move away.
Her knees were buckling, her body began to fall, her hands burnt away.
Then the detonation.
Light ruptured, a brightness unlike no other.
In an instant, her body was gone. Her spirit catapulted through the light, whirling end over end through what felt like a thousand realms. Hot and cold blended into one.
She was everything.
She was nothing.
Carey London felt herself travelling further and further…
…and in the distance, she heard something crack.
A vast warmth enveloped her. A familiar warmth.
And then a hand wrapped around hers and she found herself looking into kind eyes as she hurtled toward the after-world.
“Who…who are you?” her voice stammered.
A dark haired woman smiled. “I am St. Hannah Kim, the Traveller” the voice was like a warm blanket. “Death is just another path... One that we all must take. And now I have an offer for you. I can’t give you back your life as you’ve known it, but you’ve given me and your friends so much.”
Her smile deepened.
“And now it’s my turn to give to all of you.”
###
Author's Note
Hello twenty-four cool fools, almighty chosen, wise sages, and mighty champions! Thank you for your support!
I, uh, was a little emotional writing this chapter. For obvious reasons.
It's funny, I started dropping hints about this awhile ago, especially during the Games but...still hits me.
And now here we go!
Cya tomorrow!
P.S. Of course Hannah, had to quote Gandalf. Even in death.
Comments
JKincaid
What's particularly tragic, especially with how far Carey had come in her journey, was that she never really valued how much she actually brought to this whole fight. She'd kept calling herself a coward, when in reality she might be one of the bravest people in the entire story.
RudaSnitch
Alex bout to go primal on their asses for sure
