Insurrection - Chapter Six
#21 of Blood And Water
Blood And Water - Insurrection
Part Two: FRAEN
Chapter Six
Black.
Everything around Deacon was darkness. It closed in from every angle. There was no light. There wasn't even so much as a flicker of illumination. The air was hot and dry, and Deacon breathed deep as he looked around himself.
The flame that leapt into his paw helped banish that darkness. It cast a soft, orange glow across the walls, and Deacon frowned as he looked as far along the passage as he could. It seemed a straight shot forward, only slightly tilted downward. The fox started slowly forward as he kept his gaze slowly wandering the walls.
He stretched out his mind as he followed the passage. He could feel the power of the volcano beneath and around him. It felt like raw energy, chained in place by the unyielding mountainside. It thrummed with fraen magic; the heartbeat of the mountain itself. That heartbeat carried Deacon downward.
That sense of unease in the back of his head continued to tease at him. He felt his heart skip a beat as he watched his own shadow flicker on the wall beside him. It undulated in the firelight as he paused for a moment to stare.
"Is it you?" came the whisper of Aishah's voice through the tunnel. Deacon whirled to try and spot her, but there was nothing there. The voice had come out of the air itself. "How can you be sure? Where does the certainty come from?"
Deacon tried to find the words to respond, but nothing came. His muzzle twitched as he fought to reply, but the shiver that wound through his body stole the words. He couldn't know. Anyone else could look at their reflection or their shadow and know it to be theirs. Everything Deacon could see of himself was not truly his. He'd stolen Oswell's work. He'd stolen himself from Oswell. He'd stolen Oswell for himself.
His ears flattened as he started back down the passage again. The air grew hotter and hotter as he descended further into the interior of the volcano, and there was still no sign of light ahead. The fox began to pant as he allowed the flames in his paw dim slightly. Focus was redirected as his fraen magic flowed through his body as a buffer against the heat of the cavern.
"Which is flesh and which is shadow?" Aishah's voice continued. It seemed to echo from everywhere around Deacon as he traveled further and further into the volcano. "Is Deacon the flesh, or is Deacon the shadow? Does the flesh remain flesh, or does it melt to shadow in the dark of night?"
"I cannot know," Deacon replied with a sigh. The flames in his paw dimmed as he paused in the middle of the passage. He allowed the flames to die out entirely as he hung his head. "I have wondered... I have fought with that question ever since I destroyed Oswell's form... since I thought I had vanquished him completely. I should have known that he would survive. I should have known he would never let me go..."
"Yet here you are," Aishah replied. She sounded like she was right in front of the fox. "But who is here? Who are you? Deacon? Or Oswell?"
Deacon opened his eyes slowly, and found that he was no longer in the passageway but a massive, impossibly large cavern. The heat was far more intense; the lava pool that bubbled no more than twenty feet to his side was the obvious source of it. The fox felt his fraen_powers flare in sympathy as they shielded him from the heat. Aishah _was right in front of him, her tattered brown robes replaced with a toga of brilliant black and white. It was impossible to tell where one shard of the fabric ended and where the next began, even with the chromatic difference. She looked no younger, but new strength shone in her eyes as they stood opposite. "Both," he replied.
The otter nodded as she waved Deacon over toward the edge of the lava pool. "And therein lies your trouble," she said as she followed Deacon over. As the drew closer, it became clear that the intense heat of the open lava flow somehow didn't bother her in the slightest. The heat fueled Deacon's inherent fraen powers, but it still took concentration to prevent that heat from setting his fur and robes alight. "You are kilashi. You will be torn apart if you cannot establish dominance over the shadows on your back."
"But you can teach me how," Deacon said as he looked reached the edge of the lava flow. "That is why I am here, yes?"
"If you are strong enough, I can teach you how." The otter waved her paw toward the lava. "Walk across."
Deacon's eyes widened as he stared at the roiling flow. It was at least thirty feet across to a small island of solid rock, and the magma glowed with such heat that it spread intense red light across the whole cavern. It flowed like slightly thicker water, and the fox shook his head as he glanced across to Aishah. "I couldn't even if I wanted to," he replied. "It is not solid, and I do not think I could protect myself from that much heat."
Aishah shook her head back at him. "And the shadows on your back? Can you not protect yourself from them? Would it be better to surrender, and allow them to consume you?"
"I did not choose to host Oswell's consciousness," Deacon countered, and he heard the growl in his voice as he spoke. The fox tried to tamp down on the anger that had surged through him, but it continued to linger. "I can choose whether or not to submerge myself in lava."
"Power, kilashi, is power." The otter knelt down at the edge of the lava flow and reached out with one webbed paw toward it as the other rolled up her sleeve. Deacon gasped as she traced a finger down and across the surface of the molten river, and steam rose from the point of contact before she plunged her whole paw down into the flow. "Do you feel my power? It is not a fire in my heart as yours is. Why then do I feel no pain? Why do I not cringe before the might of the mountain?"
Deacon frowned as he watched the lava run around her arm as it continued on its way. His eyes widened almost with disbelief as she withdrew her arm, and not a single fur was even singed. "Ahron sorcery?" he offered. "Your magic is stronger than mine. Far beyond anything I could ever conjure."
Aishah chuckled to herself as she nodded and sat at the edge of the lava flow. She looked for all the world like a cub on the sand, footpaws dangled into a river. The otter didn't re-enter the lava flow, but she waved Deacon down all the same. "It is not mastery of Ahron sorcery that gives me the strength I need, kilashi," she answered with a smile. "I do not fear the flame. The flame, then, holds no power over me. Break your fear, and you yourself -- and your powers -- will be unbound. Walk across."
"And if I do not fear Oswell, he will not influence me? He will not control me?" One of Deacon's ears perked as he studied the sorceress. "Even if I can walk across a river of fire, that does not mean I have found the strength I need to face Oswell again. Certainly not from within my own mind and body." He tentatively reached toward the lava flow as he spoke, but the sheer heat forced him back.
The otter watched his struggle with a quiet sigh. "It may not give you the strength to face him, but it will give you clarity. It will unburden you, and allow you to bring to bear all of your strength." She smiled a little wider as she reached out to gently grip at Deacon's arm. "You should let him speak. Tell me what he wishes to say. Hear him."
Deacon's eyes went wide once more as he jerked away from the otter. "You're mad," he snapped with a shake of his head. "You knew Oswell before he started the war that obliterated your people! You of all people in the world should know what he is capable of! Why would you ever want to hear what he has to say?"
"Because he commanded you as an extension of himself for years, until Bain broke his hold on you," Aishah replied with a nod. Her head tilted upward as she stared at the ceiling, and Deacon could imagine her zeroing in on Bain elsewhere in the volcano. "You won freedom for yourself, and now that you know the taste of it you are terrified of giving it up once more. You are afraid that if you give him but an inch, he will consume you whole again. To break this fear, you must face this fear."
The fox grit his teeth as he stared into the heat of the lava. It wouldn't have taken magic to know it to be true, not after his quick response. "I cannot risk his control over me," he replied after a moment of consideration. "Bain needs me too much. He needs me to solve the problem of his degeneration." The fox shivered as if he was cold inside, in spite of the heat all around him.
Aishah watched on as Deacon closed his eyes and hugged himself tightly. His fingers clenched and unclenched against his side as he shook his head. "Oswell would know how to help Bain. He would know what he did... what is causing his body to fail. He would know how to repair the damage before it kills him." His eyes opened again as he flicked his gaze to the otter. "And I, of everyone in the world, am the last person he would tell."
"But he would tell me," Aishah pointed out. She tilted her head up as she folded her paws in her lap. "For all of your power, even you have not the strength to resist Ahronni techniques. If you brought Oswell to the fore, I could take from him what you require and help you learn to repress him once more. How to use the shadow, just as he has used you. To command him, until such a time as he may be destroyed."
Deacon grit his teeth. Of anyone in the world, Aishah was the most likely to be able to contain Oswell's power. She might be the only person in the whole of the world whom he would not only fear, but might also be the only one to force his tongue. If anyone knew how to save Bain from the degeneration, it would be Oswell. "I can't let him take control again," he growled through gritted teeth as both ears laid flat.
When Aishah simply cocked her head to the side, Deacon frowned. "I felt him, honored one. When I fought the shade that pursues Bain and I, I felt Oswell. He guided my paw. He tapped his powers for me. I felt his hatred and his rage as clearly as anything I have ever felt for myself, and it was not until afterward that I realized that I had_felt him. I cannot be certain I will distinguish correctly between what I feel and what _he feels."
"This is what you must face then, kilashi. If you do not, he will simply grow stronger and stronger as you retreat from him." One paw lifted and reached out, palm upward, to Deacon. "In this place, your power is heightened. Your mind, your will... they are all strengthened by the energy here. It gives you power." She smiled warmly at the fox. "If it makes you feel better, I have not forseen your demise here. You will leave this island with determination renewed. I give my word."
That, Deacon had to admit, made her offer considerably more tempting. Aishah's ability to predict the future had given her information that had helped Deacon, Bain and Ransley all trust her insights. If she could not see Deacon's death within the volcano, what was the harm? She already knew how it would turn out, didn't she?
And yet the trepidation that rose up through Deacon was different to the feeling of earlier. Was it his concern about the process, or was it Oswell's? Was Oswell afraid of the outcome, or was Deacon? Or, just maybe, was it both of them?
Deacon sighed as he gently placed his paw atop Aishah's. "For Bain," he said as her fingers closed around his paw. "What must I do?"
She gave his paw a squeeze. "Cast your mind from yourself," she said as Deacon closed his eyes and tried to bring his thoughts to focus. Her voice turned softer and more quiet, almost quieter than the bubbling of the nearby lava flow. "Not outward, as you do with magic, but inward. Search the darkness behind your eyes. Feel your heartbeat, kilashi. Focus on it."
As he did as he was instructed, Deacon felt the heat of the volcano seep into him. He reached outward for a moment to try and assert himself over that heat, but Aishah squeezed his paw again. "Feel, kilashi. Sense the flow of the power here. Feel the magic. The energy. Understand it. Let your thoughts melt into it. Immerse yourself."
Even as the heat in the air around Deacon built, a strange sense of calm and peace radiated outward from every cell in his body. It was as though this was where he belonged, more than anything or anywhere else in the world. His whole self was in tune with the _fraen_energy all around him, even as that hot air condensed almost oppressively around him. "Sink deep, kilashi, but not just into the energy. Let your mind float. Relax. Drift deeper into yourself. Let yourself fall. Embrace that feeling, kilashi. The darkness is not to be feared. There is nothing within it that you cannot face."
That sense of peace grew only more and more pervasive. Deacon felt his eyelids flutter. The air grew thicker around him and pressed inward as he sank deeper into the-
Pain lanced through Kan's mind. She jerked out of her cross-legged, meditative pose in the heart of the Ring's council chambers. Eyes went wide as she fumbled to keep herself from falling aside.
Terror. It had been fear, so intense that it had caused physical pain; a psychic backlash from across the miles and miles that had reached her there in her deepest sanctuary. It was a fear powerful enough to rouse her from the deepest reaches of a trance. Beneath the folds of her robes, her wings began to flutter with unease as she gripped tightly at her thighs with both hands. Regret joined fear; Aeola had already left with her contingent.
The fear had a name. It came with an image; a flash of a chair, draped in an old, tattered tapestry. It came with a memory of electricity that sent sympathetic twitches through her tail.
"Gods, no..." she whispered, as that fear became manifest.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale deeper. Yes. Yes.
Exhale. At last. Now, finally, we are getting somewhere.
My eyes open and there she is. Just the same as she ever was. I smile; did she look at the boy with such disgust? I suspect not. The Ahron have always been incapable of seeing me as anything other than a monster. "Hello again, Aishah," I say, and I feel my muzzle curl in a grin. Ah. I had forgotten how a young face felt. So much less sag. But given that I had almost forgotten the feeling of a face at all, I suppose I might be forgiven that lapse.
"Hello, Oswell," she replies, and she releases my paw as I draw it back from her. Ah, good. The otter recognizes me. This will make things far, far easier. "How have you fared?"
I smile, of course. She is Ahron, after all. A little respect never hurt. "I will admit that I have been better. Imprisonment does not become me." My smile grows a little as I take another deep breath. Damn, but it is hot. Were it not for the power I had inlaid into this body, I fear I might have burst alight already. "And you?"
Her smile is cold; ironic, for such a hot place as this. "Can you not accept what has happened, Oswell? You have lost. You died, at long last. Deacon slew you."
"Only because that little whore of an otter tapped your precious Font and gave him a moment of control over my_powers," I counter. My snarl only amuses her, of course. She knows I can do little to harm her, for the moment. But that is fine, of course. I need only buy some time. I can feel Deacon's consciousness struggle against me. My, but he _is a tenacious one. "Bain takes after you, I imagine. Incarnation of a son? A husband, perhaps?"
"A student," she corrects me. There is no way to mistake the smugness in her tone. And to think that they believe _me_to be the arrogant one. The gall. "And you _will_tell me how to aid him."
My eyebrows lift as I smile back at her. Ah, there it is. I suspected it would be Deacon who woke me to ask this question, but this is just infinitely more satisfying. "As I understand, your student died centuries ago, Aishah," I point out. "Bain Mazon is not your precious Ishaq. Ishaq is dead."
And she laughs at me. How precious a defense mechanism that is. Does she think I cannot sense her pain from here? "Bain carries his essence, as all children of Ahron carry the essence of those who came before. I would have you undo what you have done to him, and I would have it immediately."
I sigh and roll my eyes. Of course. Ever the fool and imbecile; dealing with such seems to be my lot. "No," I tell her. I briefly consider asking if we can move this conversation to a more comfortable locale, but I understand why she chose this place. Deacon is empowered here. A shame that she only empowered his fraen magic and not his will. Does she understand that I can command that power with greater efficacy than he? Does she not understand the danger in what she has wrought?
Ostensibly not, as the anger in her eye does not bely a prepared attack. Her threat, as expected, is powerless. If she had the knowledge necessary to banish me from Deacon, she would have threatened it already. Her rage is impotent. She can do nothing. She has _learned_nothing. "You are upset with this response, I take it?" I ask, voice considerably more smug. It is, after all, my turn.
"You think I will spare you because I will not harm Deacon. You think that his innocence in this matter protects him." Her eyes narrow.
"I know it does," I tell her as I fold my arms. Deep inside, Deacon claws at me. He cannot find purchase. Aishah has awakened me; now she will reap what she has sown. "It is the highest law of Ahron. You will not allow an innocent to come to harm, by action or inaction." I chuckle to myself. That stupid law. It was the whole reason the Imperium was able to triumph over them in the end.
And yet it does not seem to faze Aishah. She simply smiles back as the temperature in the cavern cools considerably. "We are not in Ahron, Oswell," she tells me as steam rises from the lava all around us. "Ahron is no more, in no small part due to your actions. Do you know what Bain is?"
Again I roll my eyes. Must we really play this game? "A failed experiment," I reply with a shrug of my shoulders. She cannot harm me. Not without harming Deacon as well. Ahronni are so delightfully predictable. "One that, I assure you, I shall correct when I am gone from this place."
"He is the love of the one you have possessed," Aishah replies, and a sickness fills my stomach. If only I could forget the knowledge of the things this body has done. Disgusting. Terrible. Vile. The next will not corrupted so, no matter what I must do to ensure it. "You have condemned your host's love to death."
"And so I have. I trust you know me well enough to understand that I shall not exactly grieve Deacon," I point out as I perk an ear. What in the world is she getting at?
All of a sudden, her smile vanishes. Her paws clench to fists as her muzzle twists into a snarl, and I cannot help but recoil from her glare. The rage of the Ahronni, after all, should not be taken lightly. "Deacon cares not for his own survival, Oswell," she replies, her voice as cold as a block of ice. "He would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat to see you purged from this world."
I smirk, and the way her anger stalls for a moment is more delicious than it has any right to be. One would think she would know how to deal with me by this point. "Purge me as you so threaten, and poor little Bain will die a very awful, very painful death. By now, you have realized that even you with all of your power have no means by which to sustain his life."
The anger on her face seems to solidify as I watch on. How frustrating it must be to think your worst enemy vanquished, only to find him not only alive -- if indeed I can truly call this wretched possession as living -- but threatening you to your face. "Come now, Aishah," I add as I smile, "you can say it. Go ahead. Please, speak those words that I know are just burning in your throat."
She takes a sharp breath as she stares me down. It is not the words burning in her throat, but her own pride. Did she think I would just give her what she wished? "You are the only one with the knowledge of what you have done to him," she replies at last with twitching whiskers.
Sweet satisfaction. The entire cavern seems to dim under the weight of Aishah swallowing her pride. To see a timeless Ahronni reduced to this seething ball of barely-contained rage is so much more enjoyable than I had predicted. Only one thing can make it better. "And yet, I still will not help that wretch," I say, and damn it all but that feels good to say. Death, temporary as it will be, may have been a fair price to pay for this privilege.
"Not even to save yourself?" she offers, and I chuckle at even the suggestion. I know well that she will never allow me to leave here alive, if she has her way. No deal would secure my freedom. I require time. Nothing more.
Several lovely responses come to mind, but the simplest ones are often the best. "You do, of course, assume that the only impediment to saving the life of that vile little serpent-chaser is my own reluctance," I point out. "You have failed to consider that he was never meant to survive. My plans all dictated that he die."
Her eyes narrow. Of course she doesn't believe me. "You lie."
"I do not." I can feel Deacon recede for a moment. He can hear my words; he can sense the truth of them. Are you paying attention, boy? Do listen closely. "This body was carefully crafted. Resistant to disease. Physically capable. Mentally adept. Powerfully bonded to fraen and aerun magic." I perk an eyebrow as I smile. "Dear, little Bain was never meant to survive. He was meant to serve my purposes, and then he was meant to expire. He, like every other little person in this world, was born only to die."
Those words seem to incense Deacon. I am hardly surprised; the boy seems to have deluded himself into genuine feelings of affection for the otter. It would be disappointing if it mattered. "You can feel the truth of my words, Ahronni. You know that this is not a lie or a trick. It is fact." My smile grows ever wider. Seeing her hope so completely dashed without a single deception? Positively delightful.
"You can fix it," she tells me, but I can hear the waver in her voice.
Pathetic. She could at least attempt to offer something in exchange. "I cannot," I calmly correct her. "The degeneration that Bain suffers in his present body is a function of my own untimely demise. The various bodies I built for him were not meant to contain his spirit for long. A year at the most, and then they burn out. Sometimes a little more, often a little less. Had I lived, he would have been killed well before this degeneration could truly set in." My chin tilts up as I stare down my muzzle at her. "He is running out of time, and then he will die. Surely you, with all of your power, have seen this already. You know how he dies, and you know it is soon."
As I watch her fight to contain her frustration and desperation, I feel it. It is a quiet sense, almost drowned out by the quiet scrabbling in the back of my mind that Deacon continues vainly with, but it is distinct. Familiar. I reach out with my mind -- not too far, lest Deacon find purchase for a moment -- and am gratified to find that my body does in fact respond as it should. Faith in my work is about all I can rely on, after all.
But the feeling that comes back to me is ancient and powerful and twisted and familiar, by more than just my own reasoning. Deacon has felt him too, and recently. "Haldane," I whisper. I need not speak up. I can feel that he has heard me, and all the better. He hunts me. I can feel it. How interesting. Perhaps time is not all I require. Perhaps...
The name causes Aishah to focus on me once more. I can sense her confusion. But why would... ah, of course. Timeless and powerful and so beautifully ignorant. I can sense him coming because Deacon has sensed him recently. She, however, has no clue. Perhaps... yes. Yes, I can use this to my advantage. Deep in my mind as the wheels begin to turn, I can feel Deacon screaming all of a sudden. Brilliant boy; he has figured out my plan just as I have. Oh, but it will be _delightful_for him to watch this through my eyes. This will be perfection.
It comes as no surprise when the stone walls around us begin to rumble. The cold that had been radiating outward from Aishah through our conversation snaps back as she begins to look around for its source. "Oh, dear," I say, a little louder as I slowly push myself up on my footpaws. "You did not see this coming, did you? Can you tell me what happens next?"
She turns her back to me, and were she anything but Ahronni I might be insulted. I take a step back from her; the time has not yet come. Her eyes and mine both fix on the shadow that accumulates like a cloud in the heart of the chamber, settled above that little island in the middle of the magma river. Pinpricks of emerald light flash to life in the shade's approximation of a head, and I can see where Deacon obviously could not the contours of Haldane's face. The wolf still looks like his old self. A pity. I thought I had taken sufficient pains to destroy his old self.
As I watch on, I can see white light swirling in Aishah's paws. I cannot help but smile at this; how much better can this day yet grow? "Aishah, how thoughtful. I did not know you truly cared for me."
"Be silent," she growls back at me, and I cannot contain my chuckle as I fold my arms. "Demon! Identify yourself and state your intent!"
The rumble of laughter that rolls out of Haldane's incorporeal muzzle sounds like thunder as he looks past Aishah to me. "Oswell."
"Alas, I am not the one you should worry about right now, master," I growl back. I nod to Aishah as I flatten my ears. "I would worry about the Ahronni between us foremost, were I you."
Oh, but the fear that I can see in Haldane's ghostly face is a treat in and of itself. There was, after all, a reason I sought Ahron sorcery for so long. "Step aside, Ahronni," Haldane demands of Aishah. "Give me Oswell."
But Aishah just straightens up and stares him down. Oh, how like the Ahronni. "I cannot permit you to harm him," she tells the shade, and I cannot help but laugh. What they both would not give to cut me down right here and now! "Not until he has given me what I require first."
The snarl from Haldane is not a word, but he starts to float toward us nonetheless. He only makes it a foot before the light in Aishah's paws blooms brighter, and a field of shimmering white light flashes to life between ourselves and the demon. "Do not make me destroy you, demon," she warns him, and I roll my eyes. Haldane never did listen. "I am Ahronni. You know that I have the power to do so."
Deacon continues to scream and throw himself against the intangible walls that contain him within my mind. Poor fool. Perhaps now he will understand what I have gone through since he thought he destroyed me. He will watch on, helpless to do anything save observe that which is about to happen. Pay close attention, boy. See the futility of everything that you have done.
It is clear that even the threat of an Ahron sorceress is not enough to stop Haldane. I can see him as he presses both shadowy paws against the barrier she has erected, and sparks fly over the lava flows as the walls shake under my old master's ulurn powers. Those, from the feel of it, have not been dulled by the centuries.
Shadow and light intertwine as Haldane pushes into the sorceress' barrier, and I find my respect for their mutual abilities only increases with the sight. Aishah's paws tremble with exertion and Haldane roars his defiance as he attempts to power through. I only watch, for the moment. The outcome of this battle will, of course, affect how I deal with the champion. Hush, Deacon. Be calm. Observe and learn.
Then Haldane breaks the barrier and charges forward. I step back a little further, unwilling as I am to be caught in the middle of their crossfire. A backhand stroke from Aishah as the shade approaches sends him flying back the way he had come. Shards of white light play through his demonic form, and I feel an ear perk up with interest. Perhaps Aishah is not so powerless as I had expected.
The fresh roar from the shade shakes the entire cavern. Rubble and rock falls all around me, but it takes a simple flicker of thought to telekinetically repel the stone. Aishah, what with her near-limitless power, is struck by mere dust as it is disintegrated en route. Would that I had access to the Font's energies. Soon, though. Soon.
Haldane's charge is as predictable now as when he was mortal, but I never credited him with an abundance of mental acuity. His arms extend beyond their normal length and stream toward Aishah as smoke-like tendrils. She once more sweeps her paw up to block them with her powers, but this time Haldane has learned. His attack weaves around her simple defense and slams into the Ahronni's chest.
It doesn't seem to bother Aishah that her arms are quickly bound by the shade's powers. Her eyes begin to burn with a brilliant white light as the scorchingly hot air around her begins to swirl, and I quickly take a couple more steps away. Would that I had been present for the Infernal Insurgence; the show before me is but a glimpse into the Ahronni and demonic conflict of centuries ago.
Still, as tastes of history go, I could do worse. The wind blasts out from around Aishah as a flash of light swallows her whole. When my vision clears, I can see that her bare footpaws have left the ground. The tendrils Haldane extended have begun to retreat from her, the worse for wear for the flare of her powers. Her whole body seems alight with the power of the Font of Ages. Jealousy flushes through me.
Haldane flicks a paw as they reform from the smoke, and a bolt of green light launches across the cavern and into Aishah's leg. The light that suffuses her body takes on a brief emerald glow for a moment, before the color fades away again. The same thing happens as he begins to approach and launches another attack. A third is also harmlessly absorbed as he roars again his rage and raises both arms.
This time though it was no direct attack by a bolt of energy that comes from Haldane. Instead the very magma beneath Aishah erupts upward, drawn along by a surge of ulurn energy. Haldane's will twists the magma into fingers of molten rock that snap around the otter's middle, and I feel a shiver run through me. I remember the pain that I suffered from that just fine when the rock was solid. Indeed, Aishah's cry of pain is not something I am all too surprised to hear.
It doesn't last long before it turns into a grunt of exertion and she begins to sweep away the magma. Each swing of her arms cleaves away huge swaths of the molten rock that oozes up her body under the shade's direction, but there always seems to be more coming to replace it. I catch a hint of rage in her eye as she glares across the cavern at Haldane, and were he not such a reprehensible monster I might feel some semblance of pity for what I know is about to come. I have my target.
Deacon screams for me to stop, but his roars of outrage and desperation are little more than whispers to me. I start slowly forward as Aishah stops fighting the flow of lava beneath her and focuses on its source. Her eyes flash brighter as she fixes herself fully on the demonic form before her. Her teeth are clenched as she spreads her arms out wide, and I slip behind her. I do not want to be anywhere near the line of fire.
Haldane must have had the same idea. He starts to dart to the side in an attempt to weave away from what comes for him, but it is far too late. A flick of one of the otter's wrists erects an invisible barrier that even the shade's intangible body cannot pass through. A yank back of the sorceress' fist blooms the barrier with white light as it forces Haldane back toward her. "Too late, master," I mutter. If only the killing blow could be mine, once again.
But in much the same way that I know Ahronni are vulnerable to infernal magic, so too are demonic entities vulnerable to the Font's power. I cannot wrap even my considerable powers around Haldane and destroy him. As I watch on, motes of light dance around and converge upon the shade's body. They penetrate deep into him, and spears of illumination burst forth from his form. The lava continues to rise up around Aishah as Haldane desperately tries to swallow her with the lava flow, but he has not nearly enough time left. More and more of her power glows within him, and I can only imagine what titanic battle is taking place between their wills. One day I will know for sure.
Haldane's body begins to tremble. He shudders and roars in pain and confusion and his utter inability to comprehend how he has been beaten once more. I see his eyes fix on me for a moment and I smile at him. He knows that his end has come at last, and only several centuries too late. His roar increases in volume, and then in pitch, as I hold my breath and await my moment to strike.
Then my former master explodes outward, the fullness of his shadowy body replaced by an expanding ball of white light. That ball splits off into smaller, sparkling shards as the essence of the shade is dispersed across the entire cavern. If not for my powers, I would be completely dazzled. But in the wake of the explosion and Aishah's victory, there is something more important; something that Deacon begs me to overlook.
For a moment, she is vulnerable.
There is no hesitation. There is no warning. There is no mercy. My paw lifts as I conjure to the fore the powers that are my birthright. Blue lightning crackles in my grip as Aishah realizes, all too late, what she has done. "Do send Ishaq my regards," I tell her, before I loose the lightning.
The horror on her face lasts only a second before the expression is replaced once more with agony. Funny, I muse as her body convulses under the force of my sustained stream of electricity; I wondered if the timeless Ahronni were even still capable of feeling pain to this scale. As I watch her writhe in agony before me, half encased in rapidly cooling lava, I can feel her desperately try to call upon the Font for aid.
But she has overexerted herself in the one way that Ahronni do; in battle with demonic forces. It requires little concentration for me to take advantage of this momentary weakness of hers, and her shrieks fill the cavern as I smile in the flickering light. She could have banished Haldane. She could have trusted Deacon in that I was too dangerous to release. She could have done any number of things different and retained the strength to save herself.
Alas, she did not. Smoke rises both from where her body meets the lava and where the arcing bolts of my lightning lash her flesh and fur, indicative of her failure. Deacon's voice rises louder in the back of my mind as I continue to pour my power into Aishah. The otter will die. The otter must die. Her eyes take on a dim glow as Deacon screams louder, and I feel a moment's pain as he scratches at the insides of my mind.
He does not know what he is doing. She does not know what is at stake! The otter must die! I must-
The stream of lightning cut off as Deacon gasped. A scream tore from his throat as it once again became his throat to scream from. His body crumpled to the ground, unprepared for the sudden receptiveness of his limbs. A cough rattled from his muzzle as his lungs filled with the smoke that billowed off Aishah, and he-
His eyes went wide. "Aishah!"
The glow in her eyes sputtered out as she began to slump forward, but those eyes never looked away from Deacon. Aisiah's muzzle twitched as she tried to speak, and the fox rushed as close as he could as the molten rock wrapped around her began to tug her down into the lava flow. He could feel how much of her body had already been melted away. There was nothing even Ahron sorcery could do for her after what Oswell had used him to do. "I... I'm so sorry..." he mumbled as he sank down to his knees.
Aishah's arms went slack and fire began to crawl up her toga as her breaths came slower. Her muzzle twitched again and, barely audible over the bubbling of the lava, Deacon heard her voice whisper not in his ears but inside his mind. Break your fear, kilashi,_she said, even her mental projection of the words strained and weak. _Face the darkness.
Then the life left her body, and the heat of the lava washed over her in full.
Deacon's eyes welled up as he watched the fire consume the ancient Ahron sorceress, and he squeezed his eyes shut before those tears could evaporate in the heat of the cavern. Her body sank with the rest of the raised rock into the flow, and Aishah was lost to the mountain as Deacon beat both fists against the floor. Once more, Oswell had taken his only hope from him. Once more Oswell had condemned him.
The laughter that echoed in the back of Deacon's mind wasn't his own. He heard it clearly as he bared his teeth and forced his eyes to open. The splinter in his mind had wedged itself deeper when Oswell had been allowed to breach it and rise to the surface. It thrummed with the force of Oswell's consciousness as his creator tried to take control again.
But without Aishah there to guide him to allow it -- and without the burst of her power to bring back Deacon -- there was no way the fox was going to let Oswell take control again. He snarled wordlessly as he pushed himself up from his knees, fists clenched and tail tucked. For a moment he tried to turn away from the flames that licked up from Aishah's receding body.
Instead, he forced himself to watch. Deacon locked his eyes on what remained of the incinerated otter as her body was absorbed fully into the magma. He set his jaw and forced himself to drink in every detail before him, ears flat and tail drooped. His arms shook with impotent anger as he heard again that quiet echo of Oswell's laugh rattle around the back of his mind. Never again, he told himself. Never again would he let Oswell do such evil.
One of Deacon's ears perked as he heard someone rush toward him. He didn't even look up as he heard Ransley's voice behind him. "Deacon! What happened? Where is Aishah?"
"Dead," the fox replied as he stepped back from the edge of the lava flow. He stared after where she had been for a moment before he turned around to face the other magi. Ransley's face was filled with shock, as he stood at the mouth of a small cave that wound back up into the mountain. Bain was slowly making his way down behind. "It is... complicated."
The ferret frowned deeply as the mountain rumbled around them. "You had best uncomplicate it quickly, then," he hissed. "One doesn't simply slay an Ahron sorceress."
Bain froze in his descent as Deacon glanced at him. It was obvious he'd heard Ransley. "You killed Aishah?" he asked. His voice nearly broke as he spoke her name.
Deacon shook his head, but he couldn't lose the horror that was etched across Bain's face. That stuck with him even as he closed his eyes. "No. Oswell killed Aishah. She brought him out of me to..." He shook his head again before he could say anything else. This wasn't the time to tell Bain about his condition.
The otter, it seemed, disagreed. "To what?" he demanded. He took a step forward, but the heat of the cavern only allowed him to stay there a moment before he pulled back to the edge of the tunnel again. "What did she want with him?"
"Information," Ransley replied. His eyes never left Deacon as he folded his arms, and both ears twitched and swiveled atop his head as he stared down the fox. "It's the only thing that makes sense. What did she want from him, fox? And more importantly, why did you let her do something so stupid?"
Anger came quick and hot, and Deacon felt the energy of the volcano surge as that anger fed back into it. "She was Ahronni. She could sense the future. When she told me that she did not see my death today, she convinced me it was safe to try. We had to try, so that I could be free of Oswell's manipulations."
Ransley's eyes narrowed. "I can see that it worked out so well for her."
A throaty, wordless growl rumbled out from Deacon's throat before he caught himself. "If you think for a moment that I wanted this to happen, Cunliffe, you are mistaken."
The ferret shook his head as he held the fox's glare. He didn't seem afraid in the slightest as he backed toward Bain. "Oswell lives in you. We have both seen him influence your behavior and your actions. Perhaps Oswell wanted this to happen, and fooled you into thinking that you were doing the right thing."
Again the volcano rumbled, and the magma at Deacon's back began to bubble hotter and hotter as he forced his fists to uncurl and relax. He glanced at Bain, and knew he had no choice anymore. At the mention of Oswell's presence, he'd shrunk further back. Until then, he'd only assumed a remnant of Oswell had survived within Deacon. He hadn't known the true extent of Oswell's survival and capabilities, not until that very moment.
And with the new fear in the otter's eyes, Deacon could only sigh. He had to know everything. "Aishah and I needed to know how to help Bain," he finally growled, quiet and slow. Each word was forced out. "She exhausted herself when Haldane attacked. She destroyed the shade... and Oswell killed her before I could take back control."
The response didn't ease Ransley's glare, but he seemed to relax a little with the explanation. Bain, by contrast, continued to look confused, uncomfortable and horrified. "Deacon," he said even as he cowered behind Ransley. "Forget Oswell for a second, okay? Just... what is wrong with me?"
Deacon gulped as his ears and shoulders drooped low. A glance up at Ransley showed the ferret staring back with a single raised eyebrow. "You can tell him or I can, fox. Your choice."
"No. No, I'll... I will tell him." Deacon cleared his throat as he took a couple of careful, slow steps forward. The sight of Bain as the otter cowered further from him the closer he approached sent a shudder through him. "I... am sorry, Bain. Truly, I am."
The otter gulped. "Tell me, Deacon. Please."
The magi squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath. He had to speak. He knew it. "You are dying," he said at last, and he kept his eyes closed. He couldn't bear to look at the otter as he delivered the news. "Your body is... undergoing a gradual degenerative process. I have tried to stop it, but... Oswell told Aishah the truth that I could not find." He finally opened his eyes.
Bain's muzzle hung slack and open. He'd slipped out around Ransley as Deacon had spoken, and the ferret himself remained thankfully silent as he looked away. "What truth?" he asked, as he shook his head and backed away another step.
"That you were never meant to survive," finished Deacon. His fingers curled and uncurled as he hung his head low. "I can't save you. It is impossible.You are going to die, because he did not care enough to ensure that your body would live if anything happened to him. You... only had to live long enough for him to complete his work." He sighed again. "I am sorry. I wish-"
"How long?" Bain demanded.
The fox gulped as he looked down studiously at the floor. "I do not know," he replied at last. "You could last days, or months. I attempted to-"
"No," interrupted the otter, and Deacon frowned at him as Bain's eyes narrowed. "How long did you know about this... this degeneration thing? How long did you know I was dying?"
Deacon bit his tongue for a moment but Ransley shook his head. "Answer him, fox, or I will."
Flame flashed in Deacon's paws as he glared at the ferret. "You will speak not a single word, or I will burn you down where you stand," he snarled. When Ransley recoiled from Deacon's anger, the fox willed the flame in his paws to burn out as he turned to Bain again. "Since shortly after you returned with the Alhiin root. Only-"
"Months. You've known that I was dying for months?!" The otter's sudden anger was expected, but it still hurt. Deacon's eyebrows knit close together as his ears tilted back under the force of the otter's glare. "Why did... why couldn't you tell me?"
"Because I still held hope that I could find a solution," Deacon replied. He could hear the desperation in his own voice. "I did not want to tell you that you would die if... not if I could help stop it somehow! Aishah thought that Oswell would have the key; something that his notes overlooked!"
As Bain continued to glare and seethe at Deacon, Ransley took a step forward. "And did he?" he asked.
It was a mercy for Deacon to tear his eyes away from Bain's hurt expression to look instead at the ferret. "He... no. No, Bain's body was made to die. This is just as his notes have said. There is no healing technique that can save Bain. No elemental magic... no Ahron sorcery... not even Oswell's healing techniques could forestall this degeneration. He just... did not care about Bain."
"I never mattered to Oswell as anything more than a tool," Bain snapped back at Deacon. "He never treated me like a person, not unless treating me like a person gave him something. And now, for months, you've not treated me like a person, either."
Deacon's eyes went wide. "I did this-"
"To protect me?" Bain interrupted. The otter's voice was little more than a growl as he shook his head. "You lied to me. You lied to me every single day from the moment you found out, and you couldn't trust me with the information. You couldn't trust me to know about my own death! My death!"
Anguish flooded Deacon as he felt tears once more well up in his eyes. They lasted only moments before the heat of the cavern stole them away, and he was left to blink and shake his head as he sighed. "I was afraid, Bain," he said at last. "I was afraid I would lose you. I do not know what I would do if..."
The otter just shook his head again. "You better figure it out soon, then," he grumbled as he turned and started back up the tunnel. "I'm guessing I don't have much time left, not if it could just be days. Give it some thought, Deacon. Let me know what you plan to do."
As he began to ascend through the tunnel, Deacon moved forward to try and pursue. Ransley stepped into his path and placed a paw on the fox's shoulder. "No," he quietly said. "Let him go. He needs time."
"And you know him so well, do you?" Deacon snapped as he shoved the ferret's paw aside. Ransley still didn't move. "Get out of my way, or I will move you myself."
Ransley's eyes narrowed. "He is hurt, fox. He feels betrayed. Can you not tell? He does not need to hear you begging for an apology right now. He doesn't need you trying to explain that you had the best of intentions." His paw lifted again to press back against Deacon's chest. "Give him time to understand. Give him a moment to come to terms with his new reality."
The fox grit his teeth as he stared past Ransley's shoulder. Bain's back continued to recede into the distance, before it finally vanished into the shadows of the tunnel. "I have lost him, haven't I?" he sighed.
But the ferret shook his head. "No, you haven't," he gently replied. "He needs you, more than anyone in the world. But you, of anyone in the world, are the last person he needs right now." Ransley's paw dropped from Deacon's chest as he took a step back. "I will go after him, and help how I can. Before I do, I need to know something."
Deacon nodded. "Anything I can tell you."
Ransley's eyes turned hard. "Oswell. How dangerous is he now?"
As Deacon closed his eyes, he could almost hear that laughter run through his mind again. It felt like ice down his back, and his fur started to stand on end as he shivered even in the potent heat of the cavern. "He does not have... full control of me," he replied at last with a shake of his head. "But if it is true that Bain cannot be helped, then-"
"We don't know that for sure," Ransley interrupted him. His expression was studiously neutral, but his stare remained as hard as stone. "And you heard Aishah. She said that when the time came, Bain would be the only one strong enough to destroy Oswell. That means we don't need you doing something stupid like taking your own life right now to stop him."
Deacon's jaw worked from side to side as he shook his head. "She could not see her own death. Perhaps her vision was not so clear as she thought."
Ransley rolled his eyes. Deacon frowned back at him as the ferret shook his head. "You said the shade attacked?" he asked. "Shades and other demons are not mortal, fox. They were, by her own admission, exempt from her visions of the future. She could not have seen the shade coming... and I doubt she anticipated murder at the paws of a dead, crazed magi through you. Maybe you should pay more attention to what people say to you."
That didn't help Deacon banish the pained, resigned expression on her face just before she died, but he nodded along anyway. "I didn't think you were the type to believe in destiny... seeing the future, and all that."
The ferret just shrugged. "I've never heard an Ahron sorceress tell me the future before," he replied. "She knew about my family, so I am inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt." One eyebrow lifted slightly. "Promise me that you will not off yourself while we are gone, and I will go and try to calm Bain down. Okay?"
Deacon could only sigh and nod. "Very well. I give you my word I will not harm myself." He reached up slowly to pat at Ransley's arm. "Please help him. Whatever you must do and whatever happens to me, please... please help him."
"I will do what I can," Ransley replied. He withdrew his paw from Deacon's chest and gave the fox's paw a gentle squeeze before he let go and turned around. He too started up the tunnel back toward Aishah's little home.
It left Deacon all alone in the cavern, with only his own thoughts and the lava flows for company. His head hung low as his tail drooped to the dusty ground. Eyes fell closed as the fox sank slowly down to his knees. Hopelessness surged through him.
Oswell himself had admitted it. There was no way to deny it. Bain was going to die, and there was nothing Deacon could do to stop it. Aishah's prophecy didn't matter. Her vision of Bain defeating Oswell didn't matter. The greatness of that service to all the world didn't matter. In the end, no matter what Deacon did for him, Bain would die. That was his reward, simply for being special. That was his reward for daring to exist.
And alone in the cavern with just those thoughts and the lava flows for company, as the cruelty and unfairness of it all sank deep into him, all Deacon could do was despair.