Chronicles of Espiria Season 3
Episode 9 – The Sacrifice
Written by Stormrider and the Dude
"It will all be over in a moment, Celestial."
Khazard held Athalia by the throat with his ice serpent, and formed an ice spear in his hands. It was all as Zolrath had foreseen; the field near the small town, littered with the remains of the Hypogeans he used to lure Athalia here, Athalia herself at his mercy, all in perfect sync with the future he had peered into. All except for the Path of Ascension insects coming to Athalia's aid. But these were mere mortals; they were of no concern to the unstoppable Zolrath.
Until they stopped. Not simply stopped; they hung in midair as if time itself had stopped for them. So did Khazard and Athalia, mere moments from the Celestial's foretold destruction. When Zolrath realized what was happening, he sneered at the sky and shouted his challenge.
"I have heard rumors of a Celestial who would dare tread on my domain, but you have made little effort before now to make yourself known."
"It is not my place to change the flow of history to suit my whims, demon, but to maintain the course set by Dura since the foundations of this world were laid."
Zolrath turned to find himself stared at by the mechanical visage of Orthros, his massive arms crossed over his chest.
"You believe that your goddess' death was part of the plan that you so carefully protect?" Zolrath jeered. "You know not the power that we wield."
"I know it too well, Zolrath, for I have seen the consequences of trying to divert time's flow. Your mischief reaches deeper than either of us can comprehend, but even if I cannot undo all the harm you have done, I can correct and prevent some of your misdeeds."
"You are welcome to try, Celestial!" Zolrath said as he brandished his ice spear.
"Stop!" Orthros shouted with such authority that even Zolrath had to drop his weapon. "I have foreseen our final battle, and this is neither the time nor the place for it. Your judgment is predestined for another day."
"Then why are you here?!"
"To warn you that there is but one way for you to avoid an early death this day. Leave Athalia to her worshippers, and just walk away."
Zolrath scoffed at Orthros. "Or what? These insects will kill me? They are smoke in the wind; here one moment, and gone the next. They have no more power over me than over the movement of the sun."
"I know, but you forget that you abuse time with a stolen relic that you barely understand. My functions allow me to block the effects of the hourglass. You will face the nuns as a normal Hypogean, killing one or even two, but you will fall to their blades before Athalia's body is cold."
"You lie!" Zolrath hid his sudden nervousness well.
"I am a Celestial. We do not lie."
Zolrath considered his options as he looked over the nuns and at Khazard.
"This is not over, Celestial! Athalia's head will be mine!"
"Until we meet again, demon." Orthros said as he vanished and restored the flow of time.
Zolrath remembered this moment as he looked out on the scene before him, observed the orcs and imps as they made final preparations to the massive circular altar they had prepared for this day, and swore under his breath at Orthros.
"You denied me the head of Athalia, you mechanical meddler; you will not deny me today!
Lucretia, meanwhile, stared numbly ahead. Seeing the altar again had proved almost too much to handle without the intervention of the Twin Terrors, the Hypogean spirits that possessed her.
"Weak human memories are not to be dwelt on..."
The thoughts entered Lucretia's mind as if they were her own, and indeed it had taken her centuries to distinguish between her own thoughts and those of the Twin Terrors. At least, she liked to think she could distinguish, anyway.
Not far from the camp, Oscar and his companions drew ever closer to their goal, hoping that they were not too late.
"Are you sure we've come the right way, greasy?" Mirael yawned, putting an arm on Oscar's shoulder, which was quickly brushed off with a shudder of impatience. Being forbidden from lighting any fire to avoid drawing attention to themselves had vastly exacerbated her boredom.
"I know what I'm sensing." Ira answered. "Huge numbers of Hypogeans. Just wait until Arden hears about this."
Ira was ploughing ahead through the undergrowth, somehow unhindered by the dense foliage. This could not be said for the rest of the group; even Fawkes had taken the coffin from his back to use as a battering ram against the flora while the rest followed behind him.
In the camp, Zolrath met with Mantus Kray.
"The fools attempting to rescue the Wellspring will be here soon. You will hold them off long enough for Lucretia to complete her task, or you will be cast into the void between worlds."
Mantus Kray was not worried. The Hypogean Lieutenant had a watertight reputation and was immensely flattered to be given the task of attending to the Wellspring. He had set his forces up to patrol a small perimeter around the captured town and knew that any who would dare oppose him would be swiftly disposed of.
Having satisfied himself concerning Mantus, Zolrath returned to Lucretia's side.
"The time is almost upon us, have you prepared yourself for the separation?"
Any emotions Lucretia may have had about the ritual were swiftly stamped out by the Twin Terrors' influence.
"Yes, shall we begin?"
Zolrath turned to face the small shack in which their prisoner was being kept.
"Prepare the Wellspring!"
As Rosaline was dragged out of the shack, clothed in a white ceremonial dress instead of her uniform, Ira climbed a tree in hopes of gaining a better idea of how far they were from their goal.
"Can you see anything?!" Oscar was tapping his foot anxiously. He couldn't think straight; his anxiety wouldn't allow him to think of anything apart from the safety of Rosaline.
"Not since the last time you asked me that." Ira answered in frustration.
Ira climbed higher into the tree, almost like a squirrel save for the unnerving amount of noise she didn't make. Soon, she caught sight of the camp and, more importantly, the altar that Rosaline was being dragged to.
"Um, there's some kind of big… Wonder how they got the trees to grow like that... Sorry. Best you come up and look for yourself."
"No time." Oscar replied. "We will advance in its direction now that we know where it is."
"Alright, might want to hurry, though. They're doing something weird with your friend."
That was all that the tall, usually drawn up man needed to run like a peasant from a burning house. Such was his haste that he came close to colliding with his tall white-haired teammate in his urgency.
"Hey, take it easy, what happened?" Raine put a hand down hard on Oscar's shoulder, stopping him from fidgeting around and knocking into one of them.
"Ira has located her, but it sounds as though she is in trouble." Oscar explained. "Time is short, so we must hurry."
Thunder clapped, then rain began to fall hard, slapping wetly against the faces of Oscar and the bounty hunters, making the butler shiver in his travel suit, icy water pouring down his neck and his hair doing very little to help in that matter.
Rosaline, meanwhile, awoke to the sound of rain, spluttering to get the water that had collected in her mouth out. She was cold as ice, the dress she was made to wear clinging to her small frame like a second skin. A Hypogean twice the height of a human man dragged the small girl roughly to her feet, saying nothing and not even doing the decency of looking in her direction. Rosaline found herself thrust into a circle of rocks, all with some kind of odd symbol engraved on the upturned face. The thing that scared her the most was what was behind her, however; gnarled trees bent into an almost semicircle with candles all around that appeared to be unaffected by the violent rain. As soon as her back hit the dirt floor, several unseen voices began humming, then chanting, in a language she could only assume was a Hypogean tongue.
Rosaline could feel something behind her, something like the physical manifestation of the feeling that you're being watched. A scream pierced through the near silence, one of intense and sudden agony, but all of Rosaline's energy seemed to have departed her, so she could not turn to see that it was Lucretia who had screamed as the Twin Terrors left her body to take possession of the Wellspring.
When Oscar finally burst out of the trees, it was all he could do not to scream himself. But he forced his desperation down and did not charge fruitlessly into the camp, revealing himself to all who would obliterate him without a second thought.
"Looks like some kind of ritual. I think your friend may already be gone." Ira patted her ordinarily sleek looking friend on the shoulder, looking unbothered.
Fawkes and Raine, however, both looked absolutely mortified. The usually jovial pink-haired gunslinger reached for her friend's hand, only to realise which hand she was reaching for. A few tears formed in her eyes; clearly the sight hit a little too close to home. Fawkes looked at his companion, moving to her other side so he could put an arm around her.
"It wasn't your fault."
Rosaline's consciousness began to lapse, terrifying her. She refused to give in to the overwhelming drowsiness for fear of what would happen to her if she did. She might never wake up again, and if she did… she might wish she hadn't. She was vaguely aware of her feet leaving the hard-packed warmth of the dirt, but her thoughts would not form into proper sentences. There seemed to be something else there, trying to get into her brain.
No, no, no!
Oscar was finding it impossible to just stand and watch. His speciality was not open combat, but there had to be something he could do. The flashbacks to his past hit even harder than usual, but instead of shaking him they pushed him even further into his rage and hopelessness; the only person who had never been unsettled by him was about to become the incarnation of evil itself, and all Oscar could do was stand and watch.
"Do not worry..."
The words entered the mind of the distraught butler without making any use of his ears.
"I am here... I will not let any harm come to your friend..."
Oscar whipped his soaked head left and right, looking in vain for the speaker whose voice came from everywhere and nowhere, but there was nothing. Nothing except a very confused glance from Ira.
"Everything alright? Not going mad are you?"
Oscar frowned. "No… I could have sworn somebody just said something."
"You're losing it, greasy." Ira said as her attention returned to Rosaline.
"Maybe…" Oscar replied uncertainly. His own voice sounded strange to him now, wavering where it was usually calm and firm.
At that moment, lightning struck through the chests of the central Hypogeans in an impossible three-pronged arc of pure blinding white light. None of the odd band of companions flinched, but the light caught the confusion on all of their faces, accenting the sharp lines and making Fawkes' eyes almost disappear entirely under the shadow of his hat. Rosaline dropped to the ground, the Twin Terrors having given up and returned to Lucretia. Lucretia, in turn, began to laugh incredulously.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here!" She stalked forwards, kicking the frightened child out of the way. She was screaming with a different kind of anguish this time, the hurt and the sorrow and the uncontrollable rage freezing everyone in the surrounding area on the spot.
"What happened to too far gone? What happened to doing your divine duty? What happened to not caring about anyone other than your beloved Dura and yourself? Reveal yourself!"
Lightning struck the ground again, temporarily forming the shape of a man glowing with heavenly power. When the sparks faded, standing opposite the woman was a tall, powerfully built Celestial radiating electricity with every small flex of his muscles. He carried no weapon, only an expression of extreme regret.
"Lucretia, I beg you. This is not your will; it is that of the Twin Terrors. Let me save this child like I could not save our son."
Lucretia just spat on the ground, something corrosive in her saliva causing the earth to blacken and smoke with purple fumes.
"Our son? He has not been 'our' son since you ascended, Zaphrael! You care nothing for me or him! All that remained of your humanity is gone, if you had any in the first place! The Celestials are not blind to human suffering, they simply do not care!"
"I take no joy in the fear that Lucretia Audley is dead, but I cannot change what has already happened. Please, stand aside. The Twin Terrors have your mind in a fog, but if you are still in there, I beg you, for the sake of Owain..."
It was then that Zaphrael found himself holding the forearm of Lucretia as she practically levitated with anger. Her sword stopped barely a centimetre from his heart.
"Do not speak his name, dog! It means nought to you!"
Lucretia swept a leg under Zaphrael's, forcing him to let go of her arm or be knocked off his feet. As he righted himself, he could not force himself to focus on fighting Lucretia, his mind constantly slipping under and under new waves of thought and struggling in vain to the surface of concentration. All Zaphrael could see was the accusing glare of his wife, the Hypogeans that possessed her, and the dying eyes of their son.
"I will enjoy this, beloved." Lucretia snarled, dashing at him with speeds incomprehensible to a mortal, blade outstretched and looking for its mark.
Zolrath saw the battle between Zaphrael and Lucretia begin and nearly panicked. "No, he has come too soon!"
Oscar noted that the Celestial seemed to be providing an adequate distraction, but it still left him with a straight dash over open ground that was now being peppered with lightning strikes and Hypogean curses. Rosaline lay in the mud as if dead, but Oscar and Ira were soon at her side to check on her. Ira was first to search for a pulse.
"She's alive. I'm not carrying her back though."
The fight was going harder for Zaphrael than he had anticipated. The sensation of bleeding as a god was strange to him, but he was a soldier in his mortal days, and knew that he had no choice but to fight through it. Lucretia, for her part, had burns on every visible part of her body, as well as bruises almost replacing her skin's usual shade of deep purple. This didn't seem to be a fight either of them could win, but neither seemed to care either.
Seeing his plans falling apart before his eyes, Zolrath ripped open a portal in time. "There will be a reckoning, Orthros!" he shouted as he vanished through the portal.
Soon, Oscar and Ira rejoined with the bounty hunters and started their escape, only for their path to be blocked by Mantus Kray. It only took two metallic clicks for Ira to fire an arrow aimed dead onto the throat of the approaching Hypogean. A clawed hand shot out, catching the arrow barely half an inch away from his throat and snapping it like a twig. His left eye glowed faintly, his right eye permanently burned shut by a stray bolt of lightning from Zaphrael. He looked almost amused.
"You can tell the bounty hunter to lower his crossbow. Or don't. It won't matter either way."
Oscar trembled with a kind of hatred he had never felt before, most likely the strongest emotion he'd ever experienced, held back from the Hypogean only by Ira's firm hand and a thin thread of self control on which he was hanging.
"Since I am courteous and none of you pose a significant threat to our plan, I will give you one chance. Drop the Wellspring and run home. As fast as you can. My soldiers will not be so generous."
Raine and Fawkes exchanged glances, their mutual hatred of this arrogant figure keeping both of their weapons aimed.
"And our other option?" Mirael asked as the fireball in her hand hissed and steamed in the rain, eager to set this Hypogean ablaze.
"I think you're smart enough to know what it will mean for you."
Meanwhile, Zaphrael's back was forced hard into the fragmented wall, bruises not quite forming on his torn skin as Lucretia held the blade a hair's breadth from his neck. His hand had a deep wound in it, as he had stopped it by allowing the blade to pierce his hand to the star-shaped hilt.
As his blood dripped slowly along the blade, he closed his eyes and tried to reach out with his mind.
"Child... wake up... the power of the Wellspring is needed..."
Oscar could feel Rosaline clinging tightly, even in sleep, to his jacket. Ira whispered something to Mirael, who gave her a bored sigh. Fawkes and Raine had only to glance at each other to know what they needed to do.
Kray was not expecting them to give up the child without a fight. Lightbearers, he had found, could be insufferable at times, but eradicating them brought him some pleasure at least.
Oscar nodded to Ira, guessing she already had some kind of plan, but without the faintest idea what it might be. His job was to figure out what incision would be fatal to a creature with anatomy he had never studied.
Kray let out a guttural screech, sending a bone-deep chill through all but Fawkes. Presumably summoning his troops; they didn't have a lot of time to waste disposing of this general.
Raine started peppering the giant humanoid with a spray of bullets, trying to hit any weak point in its armour. Using the cover provided, Fawkes thrust his hand into the ground, an expression of great effort on his face. The Hypogean general tried to take a swing at his pink-haired partner, but found his strength had temporarily abandoned him, drained by the unnatural blue glow surrounding him. In the meantime, Mirael had been throwing easy streams of fire towards the Hypogean, one streaking so close over Fawkes' hat that the fabric began to smoke, causing the large man to curse out his teammate indignantly.
As for Oscar, the realisation had sunk in before the fight had even begun that, without the power of any Celestial or priest, it was unlikely they would be able to defeat such a powerful demon. Nonetheless, the bounty hunters were not put off. The trio rotated, creating an endless roster of new attacks, making it impossible for Kray to focus on any one member. Despite this strategy, however, he eventually tossed them aside like sacks of flour and began advancing again on the limp form of Rosaline.
Ira, who had mostly been firing distraction arrows at Kray until now, began growling softly. She could hear the reinforcements already, arriving much sooner than she had hoped.
"Oi, greasy. Grab the kid and run. It's her they're following."
"Are you certain?"
Ira's stare has been known to tear apart the composure of even the hardiest of criminals. Oscar was about to respond, when he was almost knocked off his feet by a surge of energy unlike anything he'd felt before. His assassin's instincts seemed to kick themselves into overdrive, feeling every footstep, every impact, multiple heartbeats deafening him. The world slowed, or he sped up, he could not tell.
It felt like he'd spent his entire life half asleep and was now finally awake.
He quickly forced Rosaline into Ira's arms, the Wilder having no time to protest as Oscar was operating too automatically to slow down and comprehend sentences. He noticed the reinforcements beginning to scale the fences and surrounding buildings, but barely paid them any thought. His mind and body only had one goal in mind, and that was the death of the enormous form in front of him.
He produced a number of knives from the lining of his jacket, barely noting that each one was now alive and eager to help Oscar defeat the monster that threatened Rosaline. Oscar extended a hand reflexively as another blast from Mirael streaked past, seeming to him no faster than a feather falling from one of Lady Oakenfell's cushions. The blades ignited in a bright white, but were not hot to the touch.
Oscar could feel three heartbeats around him, and three in front of him. The sets both operated in sync with each other, making it slightly harder to differentiate. But he had a better idea of where to place the final incisions now, and not a lot of time to act.
Ira had begun to retreat slowly, cursing Oscar in any language she could remember and not caring about the ears of Rosaline in her arms. The rest of the forces, depleted as they had been by Zaphrael's earlier attack, had almost reached her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sensed an explosion of white light followed by the distinct smell of burning flesh and that disgusting odour produced by Hypogeans she had never been able to get used to. The Wilder didn't have time to question what had just occurred as she found Mirael by her side and had to drop the maid girl in order to get into position.
Her plan was meant to get Oscar and his friend to safety, since they were what she was ultimately tasked to protect, but the Mannered Knife seemed preoccupied. Of course the idiot would do this to her, she complained internally.
"Hey, where's Oscar?" Ira snarled.
Mirael tapped the Wilder lightly on the shoulder, prompting her to turn around and see for herself. The juggernaut form of Mantus Kray lay prone on the dirt, grotesque features melted like candle wax from the inside.
"Demon's dead?"
"Yup. Smoked him inside and out. Kinda disappointing honestly; you never see any of the good stuff when all the flaming's internal."
"How'd you get him to burn?"
A tired, hoarse, but nonetheless disapproving voice sighed from somewhere beyond the body.
"Really? My work is not comparable to that of some common pyromancer."
An exhausted Oscar stumbled into view, supported by Raine on his left. His jacket had been all but singed off him and his monocle was nowhere to be seen. Forget shining the shoes, he was going to need an entire new uniform after this, the butler silently lamented.
"Took you long enough!" Ira dragged Oscar off of Raine and nearly threw Rosaline at him. He was barely strong enough to catch her, but barely was an improvement on completely unable.
"When I say run, you turn and run for the hills and don't look back. If you fall, slow down, or pass out, I will shoot you. Understand?"
Oscar gave Ira a tired nod, dryly replying, "It's been a pleasure to work with you, too."
The Wilder gave Mirael another nod, and began to fire volley after volley of arrows into the frontline of Hypogeans, ignited by the pyromancer as they left the drawstring. Being surrounded on all sides was not ideal, but she wasn't trying to escape, just thin out a path for Oscar and his maid. Seeing the form of the pair disappear beyond the walls of the captured town was satisfaction enough for her that she had finished the job, and didn't owe him anything anymore.
"Alright you three. Got any more tricks?"
"Uh, Fawkes, is that you?" Raine asked.
They found themselves surrounded by the many knives that Oscar had previously hidden on himself, hopping about and ready to fight alongside Ira and the bounty hunters.
"No, but it looks like they're on our side, so I'm not askin' too many questions." Fawkes replied.
As the four and their blade allies tried to fight their way through the Hypogean army, Zaphrael looked up from his fight with Lucretia and saw Oscar escaping with Rosaline. Satisfied that he had done what he needed, he wriggled free from Lucretia and vanished in a flash of lightning. Lucretia was confused at first, until she saw Oscar and Rosaline vanishing behind the distant hills. Seeing that Zolrath's plans for the Wellspring had been brought to ruin, she let out a wail of fury that reverberated all the way to the Celestial Plain.
