The Second Life and Adventures of Benjamin Finn:
Chapter 12: In Which the Battle for a World Is Fought
At last I came possess a degree of Wren's apprehension at the notion of journeying into the macabre home of the unholy, which proved to be a test of our mental fortitude more than anything; for with every step we took the dead whispers called out to me and skittering figures darker than the shadows in which they lurked tormented us with the hints of their presence. Had it not been for the words of an aged gipsy seer, and the woman beside me who kept such close proximity that her shoulder touched mine with every other stride, I would have no doubt declared the expedition a madman's folly and retreated to call for the army that would have come had we only hinted at a need.
Yet Theresa's proclamations were clear; an army would serve no purpose beyond diversion this time, and had I any doubt of that before, the twisted corpses which littered the stone corridors were proof enough to back her warning. Common men were of little use to the creature we pursued, and were discarded as soon as their limited efficacy had run dry; it would have been immoral at best to bring men here so that we might pave our path with their bodies. Wren was the prize the Crawler truly sought, and by my own stubborn tenacity to remain by her side I had thus far fended off the panic that the dead calls threatened to pull from me with every step, as well as the unseen, unimaginable demise that no doubt would immediately follow the moment of my retreat. Still, at one particularly volatile hiss, Wren shuddered beside me.
"Easy pal," I assured in a tone as consciously controlled as I'd ever had to muster. "It's just words, for the most part. Bluster, really. As long as we keep a level head we've nothing to worry about."
For a moment my erstwhile lover appraised me in silence before at last nodding her accord. "Right." She murmured, her fingers barely having to stretch to graze my shirtsleeve before stepping away so that she could slowly pace the expanse of the intersection we presently found ourselves standing in, scowling as she gazed about. "I think… I think we turn here…"
It was instinct alone that drove me to draw pistol and fire when a presence brushed my leg while Wren still stood out of arm's reach, with two more shots and a string of obscenities coarse enough to belong of a brigand ship's deck reverberating within the stone walls before the physical embodiment of shadow faded back into nothingness; orange light belatedly throbbing to life in Wren's palm, illuminating the corridor and proving we were once more alone.
"What is it!?"
"It's all right," I croaked, finding it all the more difficult to steady my nerves this time, "just some little scamp come to pay a visit." The orange light doused, returning us once more to the glow of my torch and Wren's will markings as she resumed to sentinel's position at my side, one hand gripping my shoulder briefly as though to assure herself that I was still there; such luminescence of our remaining light source hardly sufficient now in my opinion, and yet it would have proven wasteful and fruitless to strike up more than one of our torches.
"It's this way," Wren's arm stretched out to point down one of the dark corridors, "stay close. We're nearly there."
At this I was at last able to bark a quiet chortle, a sound that caused one of Wren's brows to arch. "So warns the one with a penchant for wandering off on her own." I chuckled, and the scowl that so often accompanied that arched brow made itself known.
"It's not me that's being threatened here," her tone was as dark and foreboding as our surroundings, "it'll come for you if we give it the opportunity."
"Ah yes, you do know exactly what to say to put a bloke at ease, don't you?" I sighed as much in resignation of per poor mood as to steady my nerves once again. "Come on then, let's go pay our respects to our host."
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Despite Wren's assurance that we were close, it seemed that hours may have passed as we trekked through the bleak passages and subterranean cliff sides, all the while aware that just beyond the light of our torches things not quite unseen skulked and slunk in the shadows, before we entered a chamber in which Wren drew up short, her hand coming to grip my wrist so violently she might have shattered the bones within had I not latched onto her fingers to pry them loose with my newly acquired fortitude.
She said nothing, and in point of fact no words were needed by her to inform me of the reason for her silent alarm; the expansive hall littered with the corpses of twenty-odd black cloaked figures and possessing a dais at the far end flanked by a half-dozen sentinels and twice-over that many suits of hollow armor was all the confirmation I required:
We had arrived.
Amidst the ruined magnificence and grizzly carnage of our surroundings stood a creature atop the raised platform before us, if one can refer to a reanimated corpse as a 'creature'; a skeletal figure draped in the velvets and satins befitting Albion's royalty, garbled hisses and guttural sounds grating from the fleshless mouth, barely audible beneath the ever present whispers which had suddenly increased in volume if not coherency upon our arrival. Atop the corpse's skull a crown rested amidst the remains of what must have at one time been an impressive head of chestnut hair, the Heroes' insignia clearly engraved upon a polished gold surface even at this distance.
Wren's will markings blazed anew, casting brilliant blue light and thusly harsh shadows at our every direction.
"My… mother…" her voice was a whisper as cold and hard as I had ever heard her emit, "Walter… now mother… I swear… I will see you pay for their abuse this day!"
Bare teeth parted so that the strange rattling sound could pass as one boney hand reached back and drew a blade as well known and revered in Albion as the one who wielded it – Harbinger has returned to battle once more, still slick with the gore of the Crawler's slain followers; the lucky ones, I was certain.
Wings of ethereal light blossomed into being as the woman at my side charged into action, meeting a hollowman the likes of which had undoubtedly not walked the lands of Albion or beyond in recorded history, and at her movement the sentinels flared to life one and all, drawing from me a muttered obscenity one should never utter in the presence of royalty, for it was clear to me what my task was to be as Wren threw herself at the corpse of her mother with single-minded and perhaps even slightly maniacal determination, and if I am honest with you now, I was not all that certain that I was yet up for such a task.
My Swift Irregular rolled over my shoulder with such ease of movement despite my moment of apprehension that it felt more an extension of my arm than a separate weapon, leaving my left hand free to pull Briar's Blaster from its holster as I emptied the contents of my rifle into the head of the first monstrosity before, by some manner of luck I could not fathom, finishing it with my revolver. Firing off a rifle in such a cavalier fashion had never been something I'd felt comfortable attempting for its likelihood for causing injury beyond the target, and yet now to hold the rifle even in one hand was as easy as holding out my own unburdened arm.
Five beasts left and two empty firearms proved the product of the first fifteen seconds of my portion of the battle while the remaining fiends descended from their pedestals towards me; dependable as my rifle may be, in this fight I would need speed more than anything, and my Swift Irregular was reluctantly returned to its place at my back.
"All right, quick and dirty it is, then. Pal, your gun!?"
Already involved with the enemy we'd come to face, Wren's free hand ceased its fiery glow long enough to wrench Chickenbane from its holster and lob it at me, immediately launching a small barrage of fireballs at the monster I'd waged war against while her blade kept her mother's corpse at bay; truly to watch the woman's abilities in combat was to forget that there had once been a time when she had been Albion's pampered and sheltered darling.
The grip of her gun found my palm and the first shot was fired off before the recoil from landing the weapon had stilled, and with near perfect timing Chickenbane's report was ripping through the air as the remaining echoes of Briar's Blaster's final shot died, my smoking pistol scorching leather as I holstered it too soon so that my teeth could unseal the first pouch of powder as I continued to empty Chickenbane into the black maw where my current adversary's face should have been.
With Wren's help the husks of two Sentinels now lay where they had lumbered down from their posts and I was reloading my pistols to the sounds of swordplay and explosions emanating from halfway across the chamber. Whatever fear I had known before this moment was gone; vanished with the whispers that were now obliterated beneath the din of conflict.
Ah yes, there was nothing like a good battle to put things right again, if only within your own head.
Unaware of the black pool that had formed at my feet in the dank cavern that was the Crawler's own sanctuary, violet energy flared up to my left as my first emptied powder reserve fell to my feet, and I had only enough time to throw myself to one side before the ground where I had just stood erupted in a geyser of dark oil and magic; and only then did the briefest glimmer of my previous trepidation resurface, only to be stamped down immediately by the need to act. Recalling that these creatures needed a moment to recharge between attacks, I completed my reload of my pistol and turned my attention elsewhere and fired off twin volleys of bullets into the sentinel nearest to where Wren battled her mother's corpse. Yet even as I launched into a new attack the ground at my feet began to bubble with the rank substance once more, and I was forced to abandon my offensive to dodge yet another attack. Successful as my start had been, there were still four to my one and, with her own battle intensifying, Wren was unavailable to pull my hide from the fire this time.
"All right, Finn, time to test your Hero metal!"
Relying on firepower alone would not save us, for there would be no time to stop to reload my trusted weapons until my foes numbers had been cut down, and it was with great reluctance that I holstered Briar's Blaster and shoved Chickenbane into my belt when at last they ran empty.
Still, despite my affinity for firearms there was always a certain thrill to be had when my sword sang free of its scabbard, for Wreckager was by no means standard issue for Albion's army and the Major, who had no doubt intentionally failed to question me how I'd come to have such a blade upon my recruitment, had thereby never found reason to part me from it when I took up the uniform.
Though my swordplay was by no means the dancing art form Wren could play out in a fight, my blade was nevertheless able to strike golden armor with a fair amount of achievement, as I sought out imperfections and seams that could be exploited to shatter the suit and thusly the thing within. Fortunately the end result was faster in coming than I had planned, for that familiar burbling slur appeared beneath me once again and, being lighter on my feet than my nemesis, I successfully dodged the attack that followed where the sentinel I had been embroiled with did not fare as well. Armor clattered across the stone floor in every direction and I turned to wink my appreciation to the monster that had just completed the deed on my behalf, only to wonder for a moment if it was possible to provoke these creatures as one would a human.
There it was that I decided close-combat would be my advantage for once; for the sentinels seemed to hold none of the apprehension for collateral damage that Wren and I faced, and to that end had no qualms about attacking me even if one of their own stood within range as well. Without hesitation I moved off to the next closest fiend, setting loose a Force Push volley to keep the monsters from drawing too near to Wren as well as to keep their attentions focused on me. The effect was instantaneous, and three golden bodies were hulking with slow, thunderous steps in my direction. One creature lifted its strange scepter and pain laced my arms and back as I instinctually threw my arms protectively over my head and neck while shards of light rained down upon me, slicing fabric and flesh alike.
Bloody hell, I forgot about that one!
Wrenching a red vial free from my pack I pitched the contents down my throat, for once unaware of the vile taste as I cast the emptied receptacle aside and moved in to the closest sentinel to begin my next assault, easily dodging as the creature swung at me with the massive staff and returning to sunder the strange circular emblem upon its chest.
Said massive staff struck the ground between us and the world dissolved in a white purple light which blinded me to everything and yet still allowed me to experience the pain of something cold and hard striking my back and head, knocking the breath from my lungs, which was almost immediately followed by a much more concentrated yet no less forcible blow to my abdominal region; a flow of coppery warmth filling my mouth and further cutting off my air supply.
Sensing that my doom was upon me if I did not act immediately, I set loose Force Push blindly into the air above me, for I was at least certain that I was lying on my back; unable to pull air into my lungs to give Wren warning of my actions, should she be nearby. Blinking madly in a vain attempt to erase the effects of the attack upon my eyes, and spitting blood upon the floor beside my head, I swung my arm round and aimed at a scraping sound to my left; the sound too heavy and ungainly to be Wren. As I fended off my attackers with Will and a great deal of undignified rolling around upon the ground to avoid the disgusting puddles that would sometimes spring up beneath me, I was assaulted by the sounds of explosions thundering nearby, making it impossible for me to listen for where my aggressors were standing as I waited with barbed anticipation for the moment when shapes were once again discernible in the murk of my vision, then colors, before at last my vision returned enough so that I could aim with precision at my aggressors and allow myself the opportunity to rise from the floor and give them a taste of Wreckager once more.
"You all right?!" Wren's voice brought about an end to the explosions and I realized from the charred sections of flooring and the equally scorched body of a fourth sentinel not far from where I had fallen that Wren had been fighting both of our battles while I had been sightless.
"Oh, just bloody fantastic, for a man with less brain matter than a hollow man." I grumbled tersely, swallowing the contents of another red vial while fighting for the mastery to not retch it up before it would work its miracles. Feeling the sharp stabbing pains within my stomach ebb as the potion took effect, I was left only with the annoyance of one who knew he had bungled his duty badly, and in my aggravation I lashed out with Wreckager at the nearest sentinel, conscious to knock its staff aside before it could strike the ground between us, all the while dancing out of those puddles and light rains that the monsters could summon at will, though I was certain that my dance was nowhere near as graceful as Wren's.
"Good. Stay on your feet this time."
"Novel idea, that is. Think I might just give it a go." And with a final, vicious stroke the front of my foes armor split open; the creature tumbling to the ground in pieces as its existence unraveled thanks in no small part to the attacks its counterpart had contributed in its attempts to thwart me.
With only one sentinel left I paused long enough to reload both pistols, holding the monster at bay with well-timed Force Push spells and a fair about of running about like a chicken purposed for the butcher's block to avoid its ranged attacks, for it was a certainty that I'd had quite enough of fighting these things in close quarters. With both pistols loaded I unleashed the fury of my preferred craft upon my final nemesis, mindful of the attacks it launched at me from a distance. Without Wren's aid I was forced to pause and reload a second time before bringing the shadow being to its inglorious end, and was at last able to turn my full attention to my comrade and her struggle. Despite having witnessed Wren in battle first hand on numerous occasions, this was a scene to behold above all others, and not one I'd soon forget.
The cacophony of steel on steel shattered the silence of the tomb and seemed to be attempting to split my skull from within, yet by some miracle performed by the smiths who forged those legendary blades neither weapon shattered upon impact. Wren's markings flared, wings of blue-silver light casting sharp shadows through the chamber while beyond her blade the creature concealed within the Hero Queen of Old pushed its assault, the Will markings upon her desiccated face and limbs an inky stain that seemed to absorb light rather than emit it while tendrils of black smoke oozed from the body, only to recoil and find their way back.
In its own wraithlike way the Crawler was slowly bleeding itself out; unable to master the body it now inhabited while said body was slowly crushed from without. Whatever advantage it should have held over Wren in possessing the body of a superior Hero was lost to its inability to fully fuse itself into its assumed form. Only Wren would suit the Crawler's needs now, but first it needed to bring her to heal, for at her peak strength, and in the midst a full-out tirade, the young Hero Queen was not likely to fall to the Crawler's machinations easily.
Yet that did not mean that the creature was without hope of victory. In a flurry of motion that I was confident common men could not follow, Harbinger collided with Casanova in strike after strike, flourish after flourish that bespoke of an underlying strength and skill in both combatants. Yet in direct defiance of both Theresa and Wren's admissions that the elder had been more powerful than the child, Wren never lost an inch of ground, pressing her attack with a confidence I had been dubious she would be able to possess against the likes of her mother.
As lightening flared in the dead woman's hand it became apparent that my involvement in this battle might be prudent, and with that I took up my trusted Swift Irregular once more, finding it nearly pathetically easy to take aim at the crackling palm, to account for her movements and Wren's as though in an afterthought, before at last squeezing the trigger. Bullet cracked against bone knocking the hand away and forcing the spell to die off, though if it caused injury I could see no evidence of it. Taking aim at the creature's head, for the blackened pits that should have held eyes seemed an unlikely weak point in this situation, I released another shot, satisfied this time to see a tiny crack form in the skull beneath the remaining clumps of hair. Without hesitation I pulled Briar's Blaster free, opening fire upon the glorified hollow man until my powder cache was all but depleted and numerous fissures left her skull so apparently fragile it seemed a simple matter to break the thing open with my sword and be done with it.
If ever there was an opportunity to send Wren off, now was that moment. And so with less forethought than that of a hobbe I stepped between Wren and what remained of her mother, keeping my back to my companion as I resumed my offensive.
"I'm going to have to ask you to step outside now, pal. Not to worry, I'll finish up here."
"What?!" The shriek of indignant fury at my back should have sent me scuttling out of reach had I not already been prepared for such a reaction. "What are you talking about? Get out of the way!" My companion's gauntleted palm lifted beside my shoulder and firmly I gripped her wrist within my unoccupied hand, feeling the cords beneath my finger bunch tensely as I pushed the appendage down, thwarting her attack.
"Look Wren," I pleaded with as much composure as was possible for me to maintain while levying a Force Push spell against our foe, "please just… just trust me. I know that's asking a lot considering, but-" Yet it was clear that she was not one to be easily placated, for her temper rose as she spun around me, wrenching Chickenbane from my belt and lobbing off an attack of her own.
"This is my fight, Ben," she pressed heatedly, "Mine. It took my parents – not-" It was here that my ire at last won out over calm; my voice amazingly enough burying hers with a thundering resonance.
"And that's exactly why this can't be your fight! It's after the 'pretty daughter' – you! If it gets out of that body where's the first place it's going to go?! Now for the bloody sake of Albion, kindly extract yourself from this temple and let me finish this!"
To my everlasting dismay, my temper proved the fatal flaw in my defense, as while I concentrated so intently upon my argument with my recalcitrant friend our foe took the opportunity to capitalize on my distraction, and in the very next moment after voicing my argument to Wren I found my person plucked from the ground, hurtling through the air like so much sand in a dust storm. Unable to discern up from down, let alone friend from foe, I was reduced to curling in upon myself to protect my vitals whilst awaiting the impact I was certain to come. The whirling noise of the maelstrom which tossed me about suddenly resembled that of a woman's furious scream, and the punishing winds which gripped me died, though not before I felt something hard strike my back, an impact which was accompanied by a startling crack I was not all together convinced had not emanated from my body. At last I came to a rest upon solid ground beneath a pillar which possessed a craterous impression midway up roughly as wide as my shoulders, leaving me suddenly all the more appreciative of my newly elevated resilience.
"Ben?!" My fellow Hero's voice called from the nearby sounds of battle, and I quickly roused myself to my feet, albeit less than gracefully, knowing that if either of us were to land the killing blow it could not be Wren. She had to be away from here before the Old Queen's body was no longer of any use to the Crawler.
"Thought I told you to get the bloody hell out of here!" I fumed, hefting a pulse of Force Push at the walking corpse with which the woman I held dearer than life was engaged in armed combat presently.
"You can't fight her alone!"
"Bollocks! Get out of here and you won't be a distraction!"
"I could say the same for you!"
"No! Dammit, you don't understand-"
My words were suddenly rendered inconsequential when Wren's sword collided with her mother's head, removing the Old Queen's crown as well as the top of her skull as cleanly as though she'd cut through a block of cheese; the whispers around us silencing with the sound of metal against bone.
With the last of its energies slipping away, the ungainly walking corpse staggered towards Wren, oily black death seeping from the remains of the skull as it emanated appalling groans and reached out for the dead woman's daughter. As it emerged from facial orifices and opened cranium alike, oil bubbled away into smoke, the thick black cloud pouring from the withered body in great plumes – swells that sped as though propelled on storm winds for Wren. There was no time to flee, not even for one as fleet-of-foot as Wren, and with choking, gagging misery she collapsed to her knees within the dark cloud, clutching at her throat, her eyes roiling with black as though filling with the oily substance from within.
Despite my best efforts to thwart the future Theresa had foreseen, I now stood witness to the events she had confirmed would become reality; and with a sickness I was not certain mortal men should be able to survive, I understood at last that my prior shortcomings in my dealings with Wren, though grievous, could have been forgiven; could be undone with time. They had not been true failures.
Just as with my family, with Major Swift, and even with Walter to an extent, I had at last proven my inability to do right by anyone and everyone who held me dear to them.
This is what it truly meant to fail everyone I had ever cared for.
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This took forever! And I admit that I was intentionally not writing while I waited for my laptop to be fixed. But since THAT'S not going to happen (at least, not until I get a new one) I got off my dead rump, dragged myself to my home office, reacquainted myself with a desktop keyboard and mouse and gave it a go.
The best part is? Chapter 13 is also done! Named and everything. But me being the control freak that I am, I'm going to go back, proof it again, see if there's anything I want to tweak and then I'll post it. Just not immediately. I learned in previous stories that posting chapters back-to-back isn't as much fun. (I like the anticipation – I'm a little twisted like that.)