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(Vol 5) Chapter 21: Heart Strung
🕑 Added 2024-05-15 15:09:25 +0000 UTCThe demon elf had not moved, still staring down at her, perhaps pleased at watching her suffer. “Heartstringer. Do you hear me, Pretender? The arrow in your heart, that was its name. Is. But the meaning… do you know what it once did? Music.” He leaned down slightly and held a hand out insistently to her, coughing a hysterical laugh. “Music, haha! I shot it as a buff to streak across the sky! Before warriors, before fighting forces! It encouraged, it bolstered as it plucked at hearts! A gift, you know. From…”
He trailed off, his hand dropping as he straightened. The red glow of his helmet eye slits flared anew and spilled out. “But like all else, you twisted it; now, it has defeated you because of what you made it! A seeker, a killer. Poetic, to end in you.”
He lifted a hand toward the direction of the burning village. “Soon… soon they’ll rise and come, to ruin that lying face and form of yours. A form so typical! So, so typical. Will you protest more? Beg?”
The period of complete incapacitation has passed. You remain semi-conscious but have the [Agony] condition, making any full actions impossible, many automatic actions difficult or impossible, with movement hypothetically feasible. You are likely to lose consciousness at any time.
Suddenly, the elf god kicked a large amount of dirt into Sammy’s face and body, the worst effect of which was to jostle the arrow. This caused a massive spike in pain that made her scream, flop into the dirt, and writhe. Somehow, the tremors actually helped keep her awake in that instance.
Closer. It was some impulse inside her, loosely connecting to the knowledge hiding somewhere in the agony of her mind.
Pushing herself up to her hands, she decided to trust the strange self-command. She shifted and crawled forward with all of her might.
She barely moved half a meter, and her muscles were seizing up and quaking from the extra effort.
Too fucking slow! And even if…
Sammy wildly cast her eyes around once for some solace, some prayer of an aid. She saw some measure of potential a small distance away—the wispy specter remnants floating over the dirt. Limbo-like fog. Aggregate pneuma.
Yes. Reinforcement. Transmutation. Enhancement. Hmm.
A mere shred — not enough by itself. There were only a few sorry things she could do, and none of them were typical ‘actions,’ even instant ones. Even talking would strain her. But she could also alter her appearance via her phantasms as it was effectively innate and always tangible, reinforced with her own belief and not requiring anyone else.
So she turned herself into a demon. Into what he expected to see.
The armored form of Sammy seemed to steam and melt away, and on the inside was the blue devil. Great horns branched out of a new, ridged forehead, and long, jet-black hair cascaded to frame a terrible, beautiful countenance baring fangs, with luminous purple eyes of reptilian slits. Jagged black spikes grew from various parts of her body, and a wicked, bony tail lashed behind her.
The demoness gave a fierce cry that segued into pained laughter and clenched teeth. She pushed herself up to her knees and glared up in defiance at the elf god. In a monstrous voice, she called, “Is this all you got, you fancy elven milksop?! One little arrow of hatred and a little dirt is all you have for me? Is that truly your worst?! Hahahahaha-”
It was a monumental effort for Sammy to stay conscious while putting on such a show and trying for some mocking laughter. Her vision blurred and she had to choke it off, grimacing in pain with her head and body drooping.
“There you are,” the elf god spoke, enunciating slowly with spite in every syllable. “Finally, the unattainable beauty. The cruelest of nightmares.” He pulled a wicked, curved dagger from his belt. “As if you did not condition me yourself? As if you did not teach me cruelty?! Fine. I will show you. I’ll cut out that lying tongue of yours. There could be no greater punishment for you!”
In one, smooth motion he crossed the distance and grabbed her by the throat to lift her to her toes. Sammy fought with all her might once more not to pass out from the cascade of pain — from the rough treatment and jarring of the sensitive wound. Terror at what he was going to do was perhaps the difference.
Hands instinctively grabbing a thick wrist despite how weak she was, Sammy locked eyes with the demonic giant. Red from inside the helmet, but so close, she could see the pupils and iris behind — see their madness in full. At the same time, she felt more fully what she’d reached out and felt before with her eyes closed through Pneumamancy. Recollection came out of the fog.
Much like the specters, some refined form of pneuma energy made him up, just that it was more solidified or frozen stuff, like an aura condensed and wrapped around a little shard of something else. She realized what it was with the full bridge of ‘physical’ contact: the damage itself. He was the source of the crack, he was the shrapnel of the past lodged into the perfect construct, he was the mote in her eye causing all the hallucinatory blurs.
Moreover, he was striated with both smooth and damaged contours, the negative polluting what shreds of genuine memory remained. All was marred in the morass, and from the darkest portions was the terrible realm and such things as the specters spooled out and formed.
It all felt suddenly very distantly observed as he squeezed her jaw, and with the deft work of strong fingers began to force it open. “What was it you told me?” he asked, whispering almost clinically as he worked. “If you struggle, it’ll only be more fun! What do you say to that, Whore of All Fiends? What are the last words of a forked tongue?”
As the dagger point teased toward her lips, Sammy reached out and seized the free pneumanic energy nearby, and pulled it through herself — through her, transmuted, and then into the elf god, making a bridge with one purpose: to absorb and to…
“Be Converted,” the blue devil whispered, just barely audible.
Just as with the specters, Sammy invoked [Pneuma] and her very core existence as the goddess of it, all to absorb and convert the shadow reality into light. This time, she knew she was going up against an even stronger resistance and will as she was attacking the very existence of the animus itself. Not only that, she was penalized due to her injury and weakened state, making her chances rather slim.
Now or never. She used the free [Alter Fate] she still had available to force his failure.
The elf god had the majority of what made him up suddenly get ripped and leached through the bridge. Sammy was dropped to the ground as the giant seized and let out a shrill scream, hands flaring out wide as his form was ripped apart. A hurricane of energy was soon blasting them.
More than just his core essence was pulled through the enhanced bridge. The energy forming the entire realm was broken down and absorbed as if through a funnel and more or less spat back out as light-aspected raw pneuma.
You have absorbed energy damage. Due to the magnitude and special novelty of this event, the amount is multiplied to 10 (Pneuma) FE.
Sammy watched as the realm rapidly began to fade, the tumult gradually slowing down. Her temp light aura was totally maxed out, a huge nimbus around her that made her feel as if she were radioactive. She was glad no one else was there with her in basically a miniature sun that would’ve incinerated anyone not immune. There was no way for her to ‘eat’ it all.
But there was one still within the bright void. The figure of an elf lying down — a normal-sized one — in golden mail armor and regalia fit for a king. In fact, he had a crown, if more of a dainty elven thing like platinum and gold leaves and vines resting at the forehead.
The outer edges of his form were twinkling, and this glittery energy was essentially reducing him continuously, as if the light were carrying him away.
He was trying to stretch his hand out, to reach something, though he was incredibly weak and appeared unable to. A golden bow.
He’s not what I faced, not who I fought. Not anymore. It’s gone.
Sammy crawled over to him, wincing with each pull from the pain afflicting her. As she neared, the handsome elf lifted his head to look, his eyes wide. There was both recognition and wonder. His mouth worked as if he wanted to say something. As more recognition blossomed, regret crossed his features.
The Goddess of Pneuma had shed her disguise, showing a resplendent form in blue and white robes underneath, with a crystalline crown. She gave him a soft smile as she finally stopped next to him, sitting on her rump, fighting the impulse to breathe heavily. The pain was gradually fading, thankfully, perhaps due to the realm breaking down and the psychic ‘echo’ no longer having as strong of an effect.
She reached over to grab the bow and handed it to him. He took it wordlessly as he glanced at her, unable to meet her eyes. He held the bow over his chest as his eyes cast straight up into the void. He was becoming slightly transparent, much like the realm.
“It’s alright,” Sammy offered as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t you. I’m sorry for what was done to you. It wasn’t your fault.”
He stiffened, still not looking at her. Tears fell from his eyes as he shook his head. “There is little left to remember. Little left of me, to know it true or false. Nonetheless, I am sorry for the pain dealt to you. You clearly did not deserve it.”
“Do you remember your mother?”
His eyes shot to hers and he stared for a long spell, studying them. Studying her. Finally, he nodded. “Yes… I do… she said…” He trailed off, suddenly struggling and frustrated.
Sammy leaned down with great effort to kiss his forehead. “You’re a good boy.”
When she leaned back up, he was staring in wonder at her. Sammy put on a bright smile, and his eyes lit up even more, as he was seeing someone else entirely. He jerked upward and grabbed her arm, letting out a little cry. “Mother! Mother, do you still believe it? Is it really true?”
“Of course, my son,” Sammy assured the poor man, maintaining a comforting smile. “It has always been true and always will be. All know your virtue. All remember. I’m proud of you.”
He began to sob uncontrollably, clinging to her, even as his form flaked away and faded in its luminosity. Just as the realm as a whole did. “I tried, Mother… I tried so hard, but…”
Shushing him, Sammy gently laid him back down and patted his hair, tears welling in her own eyes. “It’s alright, son. I know. It’s okay… it’s time for you to rest. You can sleep. Sleep and forget. Be released from these burdens. Will you listen to your mother, son?”
With some reluctance, he nodded and seemed to calm. After staring at her a few moments more, he finally closed his eyes. “Of course, Mother… A good boy always listens to his mother… don’t cry… I will sleep, Mother… for you…Tomorrow, I will [Play] again and all will be merry…”
He dissolved into a million points of light, and then these rapidly faded and were gone.
Sammy sagged, sobbing a bit herself in sympathetic sadness for his tragedy. But it was over. She’d put the tortured soul finally to rest.
The quest “Filling in Cracks” is complete. +100 FE gained. 9 exp gained in [Goddess]. 9 exp gained in [Wizard] for copious, creative supernatural ability use.
Additional reward granted due to maintaining consciousness in the face of agony: Avatar Face (Core) has a +2 Pain Resistance, which will apply to injury as well as other exotic statuses of the same nature.[Magineer] level 7 reached. +30 Maximum MP. Spellcraft Specialization (Protection/Abjuration) upgraded.
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