Universe One; The Game of Lives
By Thomas Baskerville
Chapter 10; Siege
As Staff walked through the white, blank corridor that made up the miniature labyrinth structure of the central towers main disk, his eyes slid to a door to his right. The door Cathie was behind. His steps slowed, but he pushed past the door before temptation could intervene. He was an Admin, a God. He had duties to this world that needed attending to. He walked a further three doors until he opened one and walked through into an oddly dark room. The decor of the Tower of Peace’s internal corridors and rooms was white and smooth walls. Glowing lights dotted the ceilings and floors to ensure each, and every room was fully lit. A blank canvas for each of its inhabitants to imprint their own identity onto. All that was in this room, however, was Cathie’s Dragon Sword. Placed at the centre of the empty room, the blade’s presence alone seemed to drain the light from its surroundings. Staff could feel the power carefully hidden within. It felt similar to his own magical staff Iirth, who often gave the impression it had eyes staring at you despite being an object lacking any eyes or anything resembling one. Staff could feel the eyes of the blade before him, carefully watching like a cat observing its prey. This was no ordinary Dragon Sword.
“I take it you have a name.” Staff calmly spoke, addressing the blade itself. The magical power that casually radiated from it like a powerful space heater began to swirl and shift at his words.
“Most address me the same as you.” The blade quietly whispered in an ancient female voice that sent shivers down Staff’s spine, “The admins are not the only Gods of this world.”
“The only recognised Gods though.” Staff quickly shot back, “I’ll ask again.” He continued as he clicked the door behind him to lock it tight. Suddenly his own magical power unleashed itself into the room at full force. The two powers slammed against one another, “Who are you really?”
“We’ve met once before, Staff the Wise.” The woman’s voice chuckled in manic laughter, “The four of you tried to kill me twenty thousand years ago if memory serves correctly, although…” She sighed, “I was in my previous form back then.” Staff calmly searched his memories. Very few events required the intervention of all four admins, and so early into the Gameworld history as well… it finally clicked.
“I see.” He muttered, “The Dragon God…” He remembered. The woman’s voice responded with a room shaking manic laughter, “The first and most powerful anomaly.” Staff added, “Since when did you become a blade?”
“The soul of the dragon slain lives on in its second form.” The woman revealed as she continued to chuckle.
“How did someone like Cathie get her hands on you?” Staff pressed. He pushed a little more effort into his magical power. He felt it pin the blade against the floor of the room as its power waned under his own.
“The bitch slew me during the Dragon Wars.” The blade revealed.
“And why is Cathie immune to your control?” He continued to press.
“Oh?” The blade continued to chuckle, “You didn’t figure it out?” The room quietly turned pitch-black. Staff suddenly found himself no longer within the tower, but within an endless black void. Far on the horizonless horizon, an even darker shadow stirred until it took the form of a dragon, but one as big as the Edge Mountains themselves. Directly ahead of Staff, he found Cathie. She was facing the dragon, with her back to him. Her Blood Steel blade trembling in her grip.
“You might have slain me, great warrior, but your mind will now be mine!” The Dragon God’s male booming voice echoed throughout the void. The dark shadow charged forwards towards Cathie.
“A battle of the mind.” Staff muttered. His eyes narrowed as he watched The Dragon God’s giant mouth open wide and snap around Cathie’s defenceless form. The shadows seemed to consume all but… a spark ignited.
“Power will lead you nowhere but back to me.” Another voice boomed as loud as The Dragon God’s had. Staff’s eyes widened as he recognised his own words, his own voice, but not from his lips. The light within the mouth of the dark beast exploded like a raging inferno. Staff the Wise stood tall against the beast.
His eyes redder than blood, hotter than fire, more intense than all the magic of the world concentrated into a single point. Staff the Wise stood tall. Not Staff himself, but the terrifying form born from Cathie’s mind. He was no man, no Elven mage. The form that stood before The Dragon God now was divinity on a scale only a mortal could dream of. The air around him turned to blue flames like a halo surrounded the heavenly blessed. The surrounding heat surged and pushed back the giant dragon form of The Dragon God, “You won’t be lucky enough for me to grant you mercy a second time.” His voice boomed again.
The black void shattered under the flames of Staff the Wise. The giant dragon form of The Dragon God himself recoiled backwards out of sheer terror. Dead at the heart of Staff the Wise himself, Cathie now stood tall.
“I am not yours to claim, shadow. Your power is an abomination of this world, and mine to ensnare.” She exclaimed as the ever-growing power of Staff the Wise continued to consume The Dragon God itself, “Your quest for power is over. From this point on you’ll obey the laws of those worthy of worship. The true gods of this world.”
“NO!” The Dragon God begged.
“The admins!” She shouted as the last of the shadows turned to ash amongst the divine flames.
“Fear is how we corrupt.” The blade’s feminine voice spoke up once more, “But the fear my master holds for you, holds a much firmer grip on her than I could ever hope to break.”
“That must have been quite the insult.” Staff smirked as he turned to find the blade itself now hovering behind him. Their surroundings had now returned to the room within the Tower of Peace, “To have been beaten by a false incarnation of the man who failed to slay you twenty thousand years ago.”
“Humiliating. Yes.” The blade seethed, “But it opened my eyes to what I must do to earn my freedom.” Staff’s eyes shifted to his side and narrowed, “She can’t fear you if I kill you here and now!” The blade exclaimed. Black tendrils wrapped around Staff’s body and stabbed deep into his flesh.
“Yes, I had a feeling you’d say something like that.” Staff sighed with disappointment. The image of him shattered into magical barrier shards that then subtly disintegrated into the air, “But I’m a very different man to the Staff the Wise that fought you all those years ago.” He added as thousands of magical circles lit up on the floor of the room. The blade was suddenly frozen in place as Staff himself reappeared from the shadows of the room, “But you are clearly a danger even I cannot contain forever.” He mused as he glanced down at his many magical circles. The blade itself wasn’t in contact with any of them, so couldn’t steal the magic, yet… he could feel its raw power and might straining against his spells. Something they wouldn’t be able to hold off forever, “But long enough for me to figure out a more permanent solution.”
“You have less time than you might think, False God.” The blade responded. Staff shot a smug smirk as he snapped his fingers. The door behind him sparked with magic and opened on its own. Only now that he’d drawn attention to it, did the blade notice the subtle magical shimmers on the door itself. More seals. It began to examine the rest of the room. The white walls had the same shimmer. The power was different to Staff’s, however. More subtle, but just as strong. The tower itself was working in tandem with Staff’s magic.
“You’re hardly the first powerful blade safely sealed within these walls.” He muttered as he turned and walked through the door. Another snap of his fingers, and the door slammed shut. Another magical circle immediately sparked to life upon it. A second layer of the circle then followed, then a third, a fourth… it continued on until a twenty layered magical seal held strong. Each layer a complex magical construct even in its own right. Complex patterns and rune-like symbols littered all over. Staff turned to find a tower guardian waiting for him in the corridor.
“That’s quite the complex seal.” The guard remarked as she examined Staff’s impressive magic. The guard was the hight of an Elf, and didn’t have any obvious weapon upon her person. Anything else about her was hidden by her signature white armour, “Some of the best arch-mages in history could barely manage one seal level of that complexity.”
“That’s because those fools think power lies in massive, destructive spells.” Staff huffed, “No appreciation for the subtle utility of magic circles.”
“Such magical knowledge locked away in that head of yours.” The guard sighed, “I’ve lived almost as long as you’ve been in this world, and yet I am still but a rain drop, looking at an ocean, aren’t I?”
“You better not be begging me for a lesson.”
“I gave up on that centuries ago.” The guard chuckled to herself, “James sent me to fetch you. He figured you’d want to observe what is occurring outside.”
“Outside?” He quietly muttered.
“He awaits you on the roof.” She revealed.
***
Staff’s eyes peered down and widened.
“This is a first.” James muttered. The man had already been stood on the roof, overlooking the view below. Staff remained silent at the view before him. Ranks upon ranks of Dwarven warriors, charging not towards the Byw Forest, but the Tower of Peace itself. A sea of metal glistening in the almost midday sunlight.
“This is foolish even for Egill.” He muttered as his eyes shifted to the far-off Mount Forgeheart that sat in the far corner of the Virki kingdom.
“What are we to do about this?” James asked him, “You know fully well what will be unleashed should this tower come to enough harm.” He reminded him. Staff gave a weak, harrowed nod. Forget a potential war amongst the Gods… the world and its Gods would not survive what would follow if the single-handed black sword at the base of the tower awoke.
“Guard the Dragon Sword and Cathie. I’ll handle this myself.” Staff ordered, yet as he turned to a newly opened portal, James’ hand slammed firmly against his chest.
“You forget your place.” James growled at him, “Protecting the tower is our job. The peace treaty between us forbids your interference.” He reminded him, “The foolish mortals have chosen this fight.”
“This fight could alter the fate of this world James.” Staff growled back, “You can’t expect me to sit back and watch.”
“This battle is a consequence of your actions, not mine.” James sternly reminded him, “The tower shall remain out of administrative bounds. The Gods will not disgrace its hallowed grounds, nor prevent its destruction.” He quoted, “The tower is my responsibility.” He added to rub salt into the wound. Staff scowled and quietly cursed at his own words being thrown back at him.
***
Down at the base of the tower, Edward cautiously eyed the unnervingly simple wooden door that was the only entrance to the tower above. His black coat still in the absence of wind, which was odd given how open the centre of the map was. Behind him and to his sides, Egill’s finest soldiers. Ranks upon ranks of warriors. A sea of metal lay at his backside. Behind them, the thunderous sound of cannon fire continued to hammer away at the thick spire of the tower. He watched as each cannon ball slapped into the structure only to shatter into tiny metallic fragments. The walls seemed impenetrable despite the impressive force of the Virki war machines, yet as he squinted closer at the sites of impact, Edward noticed the walls seemed to have bruises. The construction material of the tower had always been a mystery, but he suddenly got the horrible sensation that they were pummelling something that was living. He raised his hand high into the air to command the cannons to cease fire. It wasn’t getting them anywhere. After a few short seconds, he and the Dwarves watched as glowing vines suddenly emerged from the tower walls and surround its many bruises. The light from the vines seeped back into the damaged sites, until they were fully restored.
“Did it just… heal?” One of the Dwarves beside Edward muttered.
“So, Egill was right about such power hidden in this tower.” Edward mused. His ears twitched as the door a few metres ahead of them quietly opened. Three tower guardians wearing their signature white armour stood before them. One the hight of a Dwarf and wielding a hammer, one the height of an Elf and wielding no visible weapon, and the third the hight of a Human, and wielding his signature spear.
James was the only one of the three to step out across the threshold of the doorway. His eyes, behind his helmet, quietly scanned the seemingly endless ranks of Dwarves before him. The Dwarves responded by attempting to encircle him, although they seemed to not quite be brave enough to cut him off from the tower itself. James walked forwards a few more paces, directly towards Edward.
“Are you the one leading this sinful campaign?” James demanded as he aimed the tip of his spear right at Edward.
“I was told that you’re tower, and its guardians hold power to rival The Admins.” Edward revealed, “I’ve come to claim such power for myself.” James came to a stop an exact arm’s length from Edward.
“You understand no one before you has been foolish enough to challenge our claim to the tower.” James informed him.
“No one’s been driven enough to rid this world of its Gods until now.” Edward threw back. James erupted into prideful laughter.
“You are not the first to challenge the Gods Edward Clawson.” He boomed as his laughter ceased, “You will not be the last. That honour shall go to my closest friend, that I am certain.” He stated.
“I beg to differ.”
“Then by all means.” James roared, “Before you now, stands a man who held his own against Grey the Vigilant.” He boasted, “Show me you have the power and will to make the Gods bend a knee.”
“With pleasure!” Edward exclaimed as he drew his Dragon Sword and took a fighting stance. As he did so, blood sprayed through the air. Edward’s eyes immediately traced the source. The many Dwarven warriors who’d tried to surround James, had all lost their heads. Half sliced through beards began to soak up the bloodstains that littered the sand and gravel mixture that made up the ground directly underneath the disk of the tower. Edward glanced at James’ spear. The rear of it was completely drenched in blood, but not from the spray. He’d somehow used the back end of his spear to decapitate over one hundred heavily armoured Dwarves. An uncontrollable grin slowly appeared on Edward’s face, “You are the real deal.”
“Grey would have ended you already.” James sighed as he casually flicked his spear. The thick blood on its lower half splattered onto the ground, “A Dragon Sword is powerful compared to the rest of the world Clawson, but it’s no god slayer without the right strength and will put behind it.” James aimed the tip of his spear directly at Edward’s head, “Die.”
Edward’s eyes widened. His reactions barely deflected the otherwise fatal attack as he brought his blade to block a shot to his head that moved faster than his own eyes could trace. He felt the weight of an entire spear now press against his blade. He stepped back with one foot to catch himself before he was thrown backwards from the momentum of the attack, “So you’re not all talk either.” James boomed with laughter as Edward watched his weapon retract from the attack.
James’ spear was no spear. Edward watched as a legendary class blade shot back, pulled by a razor-sharp chain that continued to compact into the shape of a pole. The pole that made up James’ spear. Edward immediately steadied his stance. He’d completely underestimated James’ offensive reach. The fact he’d been able to slay so many with the rear of his spear meant that the chain was just as sharp as the tip, and that it was in fact all chain. In the blink of an eye, Edward’s eyes caught the weapon unleash its true form once again. The tip whirled around James as the chain unravelled. The weapon slashed in a spiral increasing its reach as it arced. Before he knew it, the chain was coming for his neck, from his right. Edward once again raised his blade to block but also dropped to his knees. The chain viciously coiled around his sword. Edward felt the breeze of its movement directly above his head. A sword wasn’t going to be able to block a weapon that flexible. He waited for the chain to once again retract before he got back onto his feet.
“That’s certainly a troublesome weapon.” Edward cursed as James masterfully returned the weapon to its compact spear form, “But you forgot your facing a Dragon Sword!” He then exclaimed. He paused for a second, then glanced at his own blade with surprise. He’d felt the weight of the weapon against his own twice now, yet he’d gained no ability from it.
“That sword of yours is good against those that rely on cheap tricks. Try as you might though, you can’t mimic or steal the physical function of a weapon.”
“In other words, that chain of yours has no abilities.” Edward realised, “It’s just masterfully constructed. A legendary class weapon simply from its craft alone.”
“Good. You’re beginning to understand.” James chuckled, “No ability from that blade will compensate for your skill and drive.” Edward once again held his sword ready and focused his gaze upon his opponent. James had taught him something new, something important. If he wanted to truly beat the Gods of this world, he’d need to rely less on his sword, and more on himself.
“Very well tower guardian.” Edward muttered. His eyes shifted upwards as the shadow of the tower itself slowly passed over him, plunging him and James into the light shade of the towers massive disk top, “You’ve earnt my respect.” James cautiously watched as Edward’s figure became hazy, before then completely vanishing. He immediately spun around and blocked a full swing from Edward’s blade.
“Hidden Strike.” James muttered as his strength overpowered Edward’s and shoved him backwards towards the still open tower door, “A third level Dark Magic spell. Impressive for a human, and exceedingly rare even in the magical community.”
“I’m surprised you’re aware of Dark Magic.” Edward begrudgingly muttered through gritted teeth, “Few know of its existence.”
“I’ve faced a wielder of such magic once before.” James revealed as he fortified his stance and readied his spear, “He too ended up confronting the admins.” He then added, “He failed, as will you.”
“How old are you to possess such knowledge?” Edward probed.
“Almost as old as this world.” James calmly answered, “In that time I’ve seen many believe they can defy the admins, I’ve yet to see one succeed.” James watched as Edward’s eyes momentarily glanced at something behind him. One of his dwarven warriors attempting to sneak up behind James? He turned, and his eyes widened with shock.
“You’ve made me painfully aware about my inadequacy.” Edward spoke, but not the Edward that was now behind him. A new Edward, now stood before him. James turned his head to find the old one still between him and the tower door, “But tell me old man, have you ever seen something like this?”
“So that’s how you have survived their wrath.” James sighed as his spear separated into a three-section staff. Three long poles connected by chains, with one of the end sections still tipped by the legendary class blade. He changed his footing as well to stand side on to them both, so that he could strike either of them, “You’re a tricky man Clawson, I’ll give you that, but attrition isn’t going to win you this world either.”
“That’s why I’m here, tower guardian.” Edward pointed out, “I need something that can truly hurt an admin. I’ve heard many tales, searched for many legendary weapons but… they’ve all so far let me down. Even a Dragon Sword wasn’t enough, but something has been bothering me for a while now.” The copy of Edward between James and the army of Dwarves babbled. James eyed the second Dragon Sword within this copies hands as he drew it and aimed it towards him, “My blade has been sensing something very powerful in that tower.” He muttered, “More powerful than any Dragon Sword, more powerful than Staff’s magic… more powerful than anything I’ve felt before.”
James’ eyes widened with panic as he turned around. The copy of Edward behind him moved through the shadow of the tower, through the open door, and rematerialized beside the black single-handed sword that sat at the centre of the tower’s lobby. James immediately rushed towards the open tower door, but two more copies of Edward suddenly emerged from the shadow to block his path. The level one Dark Magic spell Shadow, which allowed its caster to move through the darkness itself.
The two tower guards at the door stormed towards the Edward now within the tower itself. Two more copies of Edward emerged from the shadows of his pitch-black coat and drew their own Dragon Swords. A copy for each guard. The Dwarven guard readied his hammer, and the Elven guard aimed her gauntleted hand. As two battles raged on directly behind him, the Edward beside the black sword at the dead centre of the towers light, calmly examined the clearly legendary blade before him.
“I’ve sought after story after story of legendary blades and weapons of every kind.” He muttered to himself as he felt powerful magic and deafening blows exchanged behind his back, “But there is no story about you.” He added as he addressed the blade itself.
It’s eyes quietly opened. Its power deafened everything else happening within the room as Edward’s power-hungry gaze met its own. He could feel his own Dragon Sword trembling in fear at the small hints of this blade’s power. The subtle hints of might on par with that of the Gods themselves. Such might, yet it was like no power Edward had come across before. The roaring might of a legendary blade often lifted the hairs off of any mortal’s back, yet this power was the complete opposite. Deadly silent, yet that seemed to make it far more terrifying than ever.
A blink of Edward’s eyes, and he was suddenly within the tower no longer. A blue haired maiden stood before him. Her eyes full of distaste and disgust.
“You are not worthy, Edward Clawson.” The maiden spoke. Edward remained calm at her words and simply began to examine her.
“You are not the power I seek.” He realised as he moved his head to look behind her. The same single-handed black blade, surrounded by powerful magical seals. Magical circles with hundreds, perhaps even thousands of levels to them. All holding the power of the blade at bay, “But you are clearly the one guarding it.” He added as he turned his attention back to the blue haired maiden. Her form was lacking in detail, a white figure more ghostlike than human, made of white light. He could feel her power, not as strong as the blade, but strong enough. It was a power he recognised, however. The power the very walls of the tower itself gave off.
“You are not worthy of his might.” The spirit of the tower firmly spoke as she placed her hand against Edward’s chest. A wave of magic. Edward was suddenly back within the tower lobby, but now with white tendrils between him and the blade. They slammed against his chest in the very same spot she’d touched, and Edward was shot backwards through the still open door of the tower. He shot past James and slammed into the front ranks of his loyal Dwarven warriors. As his men helped him to his feet, Edward could do nothing but watch as the blood of his two other copies ran down the armour of the two tower guards at the open door to the tower. His eyes then scanned the battlefield for his three other copies, only to find their headless remains at James’ feet. The walls of the tower itself now began to shine a divine light of their own. A sense of anger, violation, washed over the battlefield as James obediently returned to the tower’s awaiting door. The second he stepped through the threshold, the door snapped shut.
Edward gritted his teeth in anger, but he then suddenly remembered. The past image of the bruised walls washed through his thoughts. He turned to the nearest Dwarven warrior.
“Bring that fucking tower down!” He growled, “Every cannon we have!” The warrior nodded. Edward turned his gaze back to the tower itself, “That blade will be mine.”
***
Staff calmly overlooked as cannon fire ceaselessly echoed below. The harsh winds competed with the chorus of Dwarven war machines as he stood tall upon the roof of The Tower of Peace. His hands remained obediently tucked behind his back, with two of his fingers impatiently tapping away. As much as he wanted too, the deal he’d struck twenty thousand years in the past prevented him from lifting a finger to help, not without James’ permission. The question was, would James’ stubbornness relent? Would the guild master of Blackspear ask for his help? Or would he allow his old friend to break free of his restraints, and in doing so, destroy everything in this world beyond the tower’s protective walls.
“Staff?” A quiet voice muttered behind him. Staff’s thoughts faded as he was uncharacteristically caught off guard by the voice. He turned to find Cathie sheepishly standing behind him. Her thick white coat marked with the insignia of a black spear on each shoulder struggled against the harsh winds and the brutal, unforgiving cold, “Can we talk?”
“I have nothing to say to you.” He calmly muttered. His eyes turned cold and distant the second they fell upon her. An act Staff found particularly hard to maintain, but he pushed on, bottling the swelling anger her presence had triggered in his mind and heart. Truthfully, he hadn’t sorted out his feelings for her at all yet, nor did he have the patience for it now. Bigger things were occurring than her lies and deceit. He turned away to once again look upon the Dwarven army far below.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice muttered so quietly that he couldn’t be sure if she’d even intended for him to hear them, but he had. Despite how softly she’d spoken amongst the harsh winds that often swept many a word away from being heard, amongst the deafening cannon fire below, his ears had picked up such words so clearly that the howling winds, the chorus of thunder, simply could not compete. Staff’s anger washed away. Instead replaced by the temptation to turn around once more. Tell her he understood. She’d done it all simply to survive in this cruel world after all.
He scrunched his eyes closed to try and hold back his chaotic feelings. How had one woman affected him so much with so few words? Thoughts of her betrayal relit the anger only for it to be snuffed out once more as his logical side ran through her perspective again and again, only to relight the anger in a spiralling cycle that was making him dizzy.
His foot shifted slightly as the temptation to turn around and comfort her suddenly broke through the iron bars of his thoughts and into his limbs. Staff quickly snapped back into full control of himself. Now was not the time to be distracted.
The hatch at the dead centre of the flat rooftop swung open. James and the other two tower guards walked past Cathie to stand to Staff’s left.
“Second thoughts?” Staff poked as he turned to address James.
“Not yet admin.” James quickly replied, “Think you can get the cannons from here?” He then asked as he turned to his Elf subordinate. The Elven guard eyed the battlefield below for a second before returning her gaze to James. She gave a simple nod, “Get it done.” He ordered.
The Elven tower guardian centred her stance. She took in a deep breath, and focused. Staff silently watched as her magical power began to concentrate within her own body. Surges of energy gently began to nuzzle her metal armour as she began to move her hands, not through the air, but with the air. The wind seemed to respond as it recognised the flow of magic. It politely moved aside as her hand finally thrust forward aimed at one of the many far-off cannons.
“Chain Lightning Bolt.” She chanted. Her magical power recoiled out of her body, finally allowed to unleash after being built up so much. Thunder echoed through the sky as a blinding bolt of lightning left her gauntleted palm and followed the airless channel so politely requested. As the bolt slammed into a single cannon, a whole web of bolts suddenly surged from the point of impact and struck the surrounding cannons. This effect then repeated with each new cannon struck. A cascade of lightning and thunder appeared to systematically tear apart the rear lines of the Dwarven army.
Staff gave a slight smirk at the display of magic. Chain Lightning Bolt was an Expert Level Lightning Magic spell. Not just any mage could cast a spell like that. On top of that, she’d perfectly controlled her magical power throughout and landed an accurate shot across an entire battlefield. If he were a teacher, he’d have given her top marks, for the level she was at, at least. However, as the smoke cleared, the silent lack of cannon fire quickly faded. Another cannon ball slammed into the tower below, followed by several more. In a matter of seconds, the chorus of thunderous booms hit full stride once more. James eyed the distant Dwarven artillery with light distain. Not a single cannon had fallen.
“Magic resistance?” He asked the Elven tower guard.
“Felt like both magic and lightning resistance stacked on top of one another.” She answered.
“Expensive runes on so many machines…” James muttered, “It appears I have underestimated Clawson’s resources.”
“They’re too far for any of my other spells.” The Elven guard added. James gave a quiet nod. He glanced at Staff, who’d turned his subtle smirk into an arrogant grin. No doubt his magic could get the job done then. James’ eyes narrowed.
“We’ll just have to get closer then.” He muttered as he turned away from the edge of the tower roof. The other two guards took a second to respond to his decision. Both of their helmets turned to Staff for a brief second before looking at James. Staff gave a small sigh as he wiped the grin from his face.
“That stubbornness of yours will be the end of us all.” He bluntly spoke. James continued to walk towards the hatch at the centre of the rooftop. He passed Cathie without a second thought but found her grip on his arm. He stopped and turned to look at her.
“He’s right James.” She softly spoke.
“You should be inside.” He reminded her as he pulled his arm from her grip. He turned away and continued to the hatch, with the other two guards hastily walking to catch up to him.
The two guards silently followed him down the ladder, through the shaking corridors of the upper disk, all the way down to the main spire staircase. The entire structure shook and rumbled as cannon fire continued to pummel it from outside. Visible bruises slowly began to appear on the inside of the outer walls. James spied them one by one as he continued down towards the main lobby beneath. About halfway down the spiralling staircase, he came to a slow stop as his eyes fixed themselves on the single-handed black sword beneath. It was as quiet as always; whatever Clawson had done seemed to have awoken it for only a moment before returning to its quiet slumber. It wouldn’t remain like that however, and James knew that fact all too well. The two guards behind him came to a stop as well and noticed his stare.
“Sir…” The Elven guard spoke up, “Perhaps we should reconsider.” James quietly removed his helmet, keeping his eyes on the blade below. How long until it woke up? He couldn’t be certain, but once it did, no power within this world would be able to stop it. The tower was strong, but no admin. Neither was he. His hands clenched into fists that shook with tempered anger. Finally, he turned to the Elven guard.
“Fine…” He reluctantly muttered, “Lets g-” But James’ words were interrupted as a cannon ball smashed through the thin wooden door to the lobby below. The metal ball shot through the room, narrowly missing the blade itself and slammed into the back wall where it shattered into metal fragments radiating trace echoes of rune magic.
James’ eyes widened with fear as he felt a slight stir. The non-existent, silent eyes of the black blade, slowly opened, “Go!” He quickly ordered as he turned to the Elven guard. She gave a nod before breaking into a sprint back up the staircase. James gritted his teeth, and began to sprint in the opposite direction, down towards the blade. The Dwarven tower guard hot on his heals, the two of them reached the bottom of the stairs just in time to be slammed with a sonic boom that echoed through the whole room. They both stumbled backwards, at first assuming it had been another cannon ball, but as James eyed the blade once more, he realised it was far worse. The blade, stuck deep within the light of the tower itself, was slowly slipping out. It’s black handle rising millimetre by millimetre. The seal was loose. A second wave of power erupted through the room. The silent, dominant power of the blade.
The circle of light surrounding it sparked a flare of intensity as four white vines shot out and physically grabbed the blade. The blade came to a strained stop for a few seconds, before it’s rise out of the floor continued at a much slower pace. James launched himself forwards and grabbed the blade handle himself. A third burst of intense power rippled through the room, causing him to nearly lose his grip before he’d even fully established it. With a heavy puff, James held himself straight, planted both his hands on the base of the sword’s handle and pushed down with as much strength as he could muster, “Not yet old friend.” He huffed as he watched the sword still continue to rise despite his efforts, “This world still has more to offer before you have your way with it.” He pleaded as he forced his entire weight onto the blade. Familiar eyes turned upon him. A silent glare. One he’d not felt in twenty thousand years. A fourth burst of power unleashed itself, this time solely directed at James. He was thrown off the blade, leaving only the struggling white vines to keep it at bay. The Dwarven tower guard barely caught James before he slammed against the wall behind him.
The air felt heavy. The sound thick and stubborn to move. Silence roared throughout the tower, erasing every sound it could find. Two eyes glared out of the doorless doorway of the tower. Eyes fixed on Edward Clawson. Edward found himself staring back at the blade as silence itself echoed through the battlefield as well. Edward had felt rage aimed his way before but… the glare of the blade took such a sensation to a whole new level. It was furious, with him specifically. The one who’d dare harm those under its protection. The circle of light around the blade, the light of the tower itself, vanished. Replaced by darkness which then began to consume the rest of the tower as well. The walls, stairs, windows. Every time the darkness washed over another bruise upon the tower’s walls, the silent anger of the blade grew, again and again. The Dragon Sword in Edward’s grip trembled in terror as Edward’s own eyes widened with realisation. He’d awoken a beast none should ever wake.
James barely got to his feet before he once again made an attempt at the blade, yet just before he pushed himself forwards once again, his eyes locked with a figure all too familiar. The hazy, ghostlike image of a Knight in Black. His translucent hand pulling the blade up out of the floor. The knight’s helmet locked in the direction of Edward Clawson. His thick, pitch-black armour seemed to become more real, less ghostly with every passing second. A long, pitch-black cape flowed like a river of void from his back. James’ old friend was almost free.
James himself simply stood, frozen in disbelief. The world was mere seconds from being no more, and there was no means of stopping it. No one held a light to such power. The tower as powerless as he was now, not even Staff’s magic would fix his mistake this time, “What have I done.” He quietly muttered to himself as he closed his eyes in shame.
“A good question, master of the tower.” A voice boomed back. James’ eyes shot open just in time to witness a large, golden hand gently place itself against the hilt of the black blade. The ghost of his old friend silently vanished. The dark walls of the tower gave way to the weak light as the blade was pushed down into the floor almost immediately. The light of the tower returned and surged to life with a desperate urgency. Powerful magical seals erupted in an explosion of might, pouring their full effort into one single moment. The silence vanished. The air returned to its usual weight and texture, as if a great pressure had just been lifted off them all, “I’m eager for an answer.” The voice boomed once more as James traced the golden arm attached to the golden hand, to find himself face to face with Him.
Twice the height of a human, adorned in a golden armour plate outshined completely by the golden aura his own body gave off. Divine was not a good enough word to describe his majesty. The master of All. God of the Gods. The Creator glared at James, looking for his response.