Mythos: Last Stand

  Chapter 25 — Attack of the Volundr

  by Caide Fullerton

  A dozen more booms rang out in the time it took everyone to scramble into their gear and assemble in the tavern of the Young Lotus Inn. Jackie and their companions stood with weapons at the ready; Sils hovered in front of the door. Saga was among the group as well, a shortbow slung over her shoulder; her expression alone told Jackie that she wasn’t a fighter, carrying the weapon purely for self-defense.

  Sils: “Everyone ‘ere? No time ta waste. Saga, you get further inland. Rest of us are helpin’ with whatever the hell’s happenin’.”

  The group assented without a need for words. Sils nodded to them all, turned, and thrust the door open with a gust of wind, zipping outside. Jahd came out next, followed by Saga and then the rest of the group. They all rounded the corner of the alley the inn lay nestled in, peeking out at the city proper and the bay.

  Jackie was met with… a much less grizzly scene than they’d expected, honestly. They’d been fully prepared for fire, brimstone, and total destruction; in reality, some piers and buildings near the bay had holes in them, and a few ships in the bay were damaged.

  It was all quite tame compared to their imagination, but that didn’t make it good, either; Avek Tirion was very much still under attack, and they could see several crowds of people fleeing inland. Once he seemed confident it was generally safe, Jahd signaled for Saga to join one of the passing groups. He marched down to the port layer, the rest of the group close on his tail.

  More booms rang out, but they were fewer in number now. Some were coming from the distant ocean, others from the wharf. Jackie realized that the booms originating from their side had already started to outnumber the opposing sounds.

  They approached one of the sources of the sound. A small stone structure rose from the shore’s edge; mounted atop it was a large, black, cylindrical object—a cannon. Several soldiers were manning it, working together to adjust its position and lug cannonballs into its barrel. As the group approached, it fired, assaulting their ears with a terrible ringing.

  Jahd approached a figure who stood a few paces away from the cannon installment, gazing out at the sea. Sils appeared beside him as he called out,

  Jahd: “General Matthias. What’s the situation?”

  The figure turned. Most of his body was obscured beneath a hooded cloak, but they could see from his face and hands that he was a member of one of the insect-like races they’d first seen the day before. His head was thin and oblong, featuring two large, spherical eyes; large black pupils shifted beneath the bumpy ridges of his eyes’ surfaces. His skin was green, his fingers a set of serrated claws. No weapons hung from his belt, but he gave off an aura of danger nonetheless.

  Matthias: “Few Evendelian ships snuck past our outer defenses. Caught us off-guard.”

  Sils: “How the hell’d they sneak through!?” She shouted, her hands on her hips. Jackie could only assume that this ‘general’ outranked her, but she didn’t seem to care much about that.

  Matthias’s pupils shrank in a motion that was probably meant to be him narrowing his eyes. “They were small stealth ships. Not very many, and they aren’t a significant threat, either. They landed some preemptive damage, but we’ve already taken the upper hand.”

  Jahd: “Our squad’s ready t’assist. What can we do?”

  ???: “Remain on standby for now.”

  Another new voice interjected, which got Jackie to whirl around and face the source. It was a tall, lithe man with dark grey skin and pointed ears. He was dressed like a sailor, with baggy pants, leather boots, and a white poet’s shirt—worn beneath a decidedly un-sailor-like black jacket—with its frilly sleeves rolled up past his elbows.

  His appearance was of little note to Jackie, however. No, what alarmed them was that he had simply… appeared. He hadn’t literally appeared out of thin air like Sils could; he’d simply walked over without them noticing at all. Even against the stealthiest opponents, they could always detect some sound, but this man’s approach had been perfectly silent.

  He gave Jackie’s reaction a glance before returning his attention to Jahd and Sils, continuing, “To be frank, this attack was pitiful, especially after how carefully they’ve been dragging things out.

  “The attack itself wasn’t their real goal—it’s masking something else. Whatever it is, I want you ready to deal with it.” His voice was soft, husky. As he finished, he raised a cigar in one hand and took a long draw of it.

  Jahd: “Aye-aye.”

  The man blew out a cloud of dark smoke before turning to Jackie and the others. “These the Humans?”

  Jackie: “We are. I’m Jackie.”

  He nodded and held out a hand. “Admiral Kyte. Sils filled me in on you. ‘ppreciate your help in all this.”

  Jackie shook his hand; his grip was lighter than expected. Kyte carried himself with a casual demeanor despite his status. Once he was done with Jackie, he moved onto each of the other Humans and Lii in turn, exchanging introductions with each.

  The moment didn’t last long before it was interrupted. A figure emerged from the water and shot over to the group—an Alphicca, the same race as Raffica. The young man took only a moment to catch his breath before reporting to Kyte and Matthias,

  Alphicca: “Sir! Another threat on the way. Several Volundr armor-mechs are approaching along the seafloor. Your orders?”

  Kyte: “Aiming to disable our ships,” he grumbled. “How long?”

  Alphicca: “Roughly five minutes, sir!”

  Kyte glanced to Matthias, who gave him a nod and spoke, “Battle’s already dying down. Their ships are all but dealt with.”

  Kyte: “Good. Have our men pull whatever ships they can onto land. Send the rest into deeper waters, unmanned. Once it’s done, get all the standard infantry clear of the wharf.”

  The soldier saluted with an “Aye-aye, sir!” before jetting away to relay the orders. Kyte then turned to Jackie and the others,

  Kyte: “Can’t risk losing our Humans here. Stand back and observe.”

  Before they could respond, another crash rang out. This one wasn’t preceded by the distant boom of a cannon; those sounds had already been all but silenced. Instead, a section of a nearby pier collapsed, kicking up waves in the water of the bay.

  Kyte turned his perpetually-disinterested gaze to the pier. “So much for five minutes.” He placed his cigar in his mouth and entered a swift stride towards the damaged pier, followed by Matthias.

  There was another crash, the screeching of metal tearing apart wood. This time it came from a small boat beside the damaged pier, one that promptly began to sink. Its fall was hastened as a great hand rose up from the water, gripping the edge of the boat and thrusting it underwater as the hand’s owner lifted itself up from the seafloor.

  Jackie had been looking for an opportunity to ask what a ‘Volundr armor-mech’ was, but they got their answer without needing to. It was a titan of discolored, overlapping armor plates, humanoid in shape but a little over double Jackie’s height. It lacked a head or neck; instead, the armor’s chest was large and bulbous. It held a spiked mace in one metallic hand, the weapon’s head larger than Jackie’s.

  The mech stomped its way onto the shore, raising its mace. Between it and the rest of the group, Kyte and Matthias strode forward. The former rested his left hand on the basket-hilt of a sword strapped to his hip. Strange lapses in vision began to cloud Jackie’s view of him; they blinked, but their vision did not improve. They realized the strange shapes were shadows, creeping along his body in swirling patterns. They emerged from his hair, the crooks of his outfit, the ground beneath him, all converging on his left hand.

  He drew his cutlass, slashing at the air in front of him.

  Reality split apart.

  A perfectly flat rift opened in the air following the curve of his blade, an inky black darkness that Jackie could only describe as a tear in reality itself. It had no depth, yet there seemed to be endless depth behind the swirling, shadowy surface of the arc. It seeped forward, maintaining its shape as it shot past the mech; it didn’t move so much as it spread to the air in front of it. The attack was simultaneously a perfect bladed edge and a writhing, wriggling mass—a form that Jackie’s eyes, or perhaps their mind, simply couldn’t comprehend.

  The dark slash cleaved through one of the mech’s legs, fading away just as quickly as it had appeared. The construct stumbled, nearly falling to one knee, but it continued forward; the slash had left a dark stain across its armor, but despite appearing to have passed right through the mech, it didn’t seem to have actually pierced the armor—not physically, at least.

  Kyte walked calmly to one side, flanking the mech as it marched towards him. He held his sword at the ready, but he did not slash again; instead, his shadow stood up.

  In the amber light of the sunrise, his shadow was long and deep. It took on an inky shade and condensed, shrinking towards its source until it was about as tall as he. The shadow peeled itself off of the ground, tendrils of inky black snapping as it was pried free.

  Its appearance shifted slightly as it rose—not only did it gain a third dimension, but its hair, the shape of its face, the frame of its body, each of them changed, creating a figure that was distinct from Kyte. The shadow placed jagged hands on the Admiral’s shoulders, hanging off of him, its lower body merged into the elf’s back.

  The shadow thrust a hand out to the side, a bolt of inky black extending out from it. Unlike Kyte’s slash, this bolt clearly had a shape and form, but it bore the same shifting appearance, as though an endless abyss lay within. The shadow lobbed the mass forward; it curved through the air, moving sluggishly at first, then picking up speed rapidly. It slammed into the side of the mech, causing it to stumble a bit.

  The shadow lobbed several of these bolts at the mech, sending them curving in from either direction. Each time it drew its hands back, the dark masses formed as though they’d already been there, simply waiting for a hand to pass through and make it real. The attacks batted the mech back and forth, but they weren’t enough to stop its forward march.

  That was fine, since Kyte was merely serving as a distraction. By the time the mech got close enough to him to raise its mace and prepare a swing, General Matthias had already assumed a fighting stance a fair distance behind it.

  Matthias had cast off his cloak, revealing himself. His insect-like body, lightly armored, largely followed the same body plan as other humanoids. Where it differed was that his waist was stick-thin, barely larger than his arms, and that a rounded abdomen protruded from his lower back. A pair of wings stretched out from that abdomen, having unfolded into an impressive wingspan double the width of his body; the wings vibrated with tension, as though they were being stretched backwards like a spring.

  In an instant, the tension on his wings were released, and the General disappeared.

  The launch left a small crater in the sand where he’d been standing, kicking up an intense gust of wind that sent some scattered debris flying behind him. He became a blur of green, blinking from his starting position to one several meters on the opposite side of the mech. A geyser of blue blood erupted from a crack in the mech’s armor; its right arm fell to the ground with an iron clamor just as the General touched back down.

  The mech stumbled, tilting to the left. Kyte took the chance to run beside the mech, towards its dismembered arm. As he did, the shadow on his back faded, its inky form coalescing onto his blade. Jackie realized that not only had the shadow he cast over the ground disappeared, but the smaller shadows all across his body had, as well, each perfectly, flatly illuminated; some of those shadows reformed now, filled in by whatever portion of the shadow figure hadn’t gone to his sword.

  He jabbed that blade at the mech’s exposed wound, and from its tip extended a thin, slithering mass of black. It shot straight into the gaping hole where the mech’s arm had been connected, and a moment later blood came gushing out from between several other plates of armor around the mech’s body.

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  The great construct lost its balance completely, crashing down to the ground beside Kyte. He held his blade straight up in front of him in a fencer’s stance, remaining still before the fallen foe; in his place, his shadow stretched out and reformed, taking on the same short, deep shape as when it previously peeled itself off the ground.

  This time it slid across the ground, rotating around Kyte as though the sun had swept across the sky and reaching its two-dimensional hand across the ground to the fallen mech. The hand touched the mech’s shadow, and it began to writhe, tendrils rising from the ground, bubbles expanding and popping like tar. The mech’s shadow was pried off of the ground, lashing at its source with a vengeance, tendrils coiling around it and rooting it to the sand, pulling it down with whatever weight a shadow possessed. The shadow crushed some parts of the mech, seeping between the armor plates for others; a pool of blue blood formed where a shadow had once been.

  The mech was down; the two warriors had dealt with it in no more than thirty seconds.

  It seemed this victory was earned just in time, for the ocean parted as a second mech began marching its way out of the water. Kyte and Matthias turned their attention to it, ready to fight once more.

  It was clear they could handle themselves; no doubt they’d been chosen as the pirate nation’s leaders for a reason. Jackie turned their mind instead to answering several question that were nagging at them.

  For one, where were these Volundr mechs coming from—or, to be precise, how were they reaching the shore so quickly? Given their weight, it seemed they must be marching along the seafloor, but that soldier had said they were still a five-minute march away.

  Had he lied? It was possible, but would someone so untrustworthy be reporting directly to the Admiral—to the ruler of the entire nation? Doubtful. The mech had slipped past him, then, or it had somehow moved much faster than expected.

  Whatever method it used, the second mech had likely appeared via the same. Why were their arrivals staggered? Jackie struggled to see any strategic advantage to that. In that case, they were staggered by necessity; however the mechs were reaching the beach so quickly, the enemy only had the means to move one at a time.

  That left another question—why were the mechs surfacing? They were clearly capable of moving and fighting underwater, but it went without saying that not all of Avek Tirion’s defenses would be able to do the same. The enemy were also no doubt aware of what Kyte and Matthias could do in battle. If their goal was to damage the pier or ships, as Kyte had surmised, remaining in the water would be solely beneficial to them.

  Their thoughts were interrupted by a string of distant sounds—more crashes, this time echoing out from the two extremities of the horseshoe-shaped port. Squinting their eyes against the rising sun, they weren’t able to see anything in the distance aside from soldiers and sailors running about, which left a single conclusion.

  Jackie: “Mechs have reached the outer reaches of the port. They’re staying underwater and sabotaging the ships.”

  Kyte: “Bastards.” He muttered a curse as he leapt away from his opponent’s falling mace, just loud enough that Jackie could hear him. His voice raised as he barked quick orders, “I’ll handle the center. Matthias, take Jahd to the south side. Sils, take Celeste north.”

  Matthias didn’t even give a response before crouching down, remaining still for a few moments before releasing the tension in his wings and launching off towards the south end of the port. Jahd and Sils both nodded to the Admiral, kicking into gear.

  Sils: “You Humans get back already! Celeste, let’s move!”

  Jackie shook their head in defiance. “I’ll figure out their strategy. I need a closer look.”

  Sils: “This ain’t a time t’argue, damn it!” She huffed and fluttered northward, Celeste in hot pursuit.

  Jackie started to jog after her, but a firm hand on their shoulder stopped them. They turned to see its owner—Raffica.

  Raffica: “You sure you won’t get hurt?”

  Jackie: “I don’t plan on dying.”

  She smiled. “Alright.” She hooked her arms under Jackie’s shoulders in a similar maneuver to the day before, and the next moment they were zipping through the sky together. Jackie didn’t even have a chance to see where the rest of their companions were headed.

  They refocused on the task ahead. “Can you three fight underwater?”

  Raffica: “Yes! Alphiccae like me fight just as well as on land, and I can breathe down there, too. Celeste has to hold her breath, but she can phase through the water so it doesn’t slow her down. I don’t know about Sils.”

  She spoke the last sentence with remorse, but she’d provided more than enough useful information. “Focus on knocking them down first. Minimize damage to the ships.”

  Raffica: “What about you?”

  Jackie: “Drop me on a pier away from them. I’ll figure out what they’re doing.”

  She gave a grunt of affirmation. It felt like hardly another second passed before she screeched to a midair stop, dumping them onto the cold wood of a pier before blasting further down the shore and into the water.

  The water here was oddly clear—much clearer than anything they’d ever seen in the Heap, though they supposed that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peering between several ships and the soldiers trying to move them, they could make out the shimmering figure of a Volundr mech in the direction Raffica was headed; a moment later they caught a glimpse of a red blur tackling the hunk of metal.

  They trusted that she and the others could handle themselves. They wouldn’t be able to help against such an enemy, regardless—especially not underwater. The best thing they could do now was answer the questions they’d picked out a minute earlier.

  The answer to the latter question—why the mechs were surfacing—was quite clear, now that they could see not all of them were. The handful of mechs being rushed to the center were, whether they themselves knew it or not, sacrifices intended to keep Kyte busy. They wouldn’t claim to have even a cursory understanding of his abilities yet, but it was abundantly clear that he was powerful—probably the most powerful person they’d met so far. If the Volundr let him act freely, he might be more than capable of thwarting half their operation on his own.

  That left the first question—how were those mechs being sped along? They got down on their hands and knees at the farthest end of the pier, doing their best to ignore how screwed they’d be if a mech attacked this particular dock; their eyes focused on the deep blue water stretching out ahead of them.

  The water seemed quite clear near the surface and the shallows, but it became murkier the deeper it went, and the bay was much deeper than Jackie had thought. They couldn’t clearly make out the mechs, but they could see a collection of shimmering shapes whose bright colors and gleaming surfaces stood out against the seafloor. They were near the center of the bay, moving slowly, or not at all. No, on closer inspection, they definitely were moving, fanning out in different directions.

  Further movement caught their eye—smaller, darker shapes darting through the water at high speed. Jackie couldn’t quite make out what they were, but their eyes tracked their movements as they wove their way into the crowd of gleaming mechs. A moment later, one of the mechs broke formation, propelled away from the others with the dark shapes trailing behind it.

  That provided the other answer they were looking for. Something else in the water—several somethings, from the look of it—were pushing the mechs forward, and there were only enough of them to push one at a time. They hadn’t a clue what those darker shapes were, and they likely lacked the knowledge needed to find out. That was fine; they could turn the tides without the specifics.

  They looked to the side. A few small boats had been pulled up onto the wharf, the larger ones in the process of drifting out into the bay, out of the mechs’ reach. The battle had moved into shallower water; they could see Raffica and Celeste darting through the air around two mechs.

  As things were, would they or Sils even be able to act on the information Jackie had gathered? It didn’t matter. Kyte was occupied defending the center of the port on his own, and the others were all the way across the bay.

  Jackie: [There’s something else in the water pushing the mechs.] They shot a message to Lii and the other Humans, just in case any of them were in a position to take advantage of it, then rose and bolted back down the pier, making their way toward the site of Celeste and Raffica’s battle.

  * ? *

  Celeste darted backwards, levitating just out of reach as a mech swung its heavy mace for her. The iron behemoth stood half-submerged in the shallow water of the shoreline, the gentle waves of the bay splashing against its armor. Blue blood dripped out between the plates of its left arm; with her powers, she’d managed to land a decent hit on that arm, leaving it hanging limp.

  Was that really all she could do?

  The sharpness in her eyes briefly faded, but she shook her head, forcing the fierce facade back onto her face. She wasn’t Celeste, not right now—she was a warrior, one that didn’t hesitate or have second thoughts.

  The mech took a step towards her, swinging its mace once more. This time, she didn’t retreat. She shot forward, phasing right through the weapon; her body flew horizontally, spinning with her claymore outstretched. The blade phased through the iron plating of the mech—and there was a terrible screech. The grating sound of metal scraping against metal overwhelmed her ears, layered over itself a dozen, a hundred, an infinite number of times.

  She was used to the sound. It signaled her blade finding its mark. The hilt of her sword, the part closest to her, remained incorporeal; the tip of the blade, which had passed the mech’s outer armor and now cleaved through the flesh of the Volundr inside, did not. Between these sections which were incorporeal and physical, there was a boundary—a grey area, one where the sword simultaneously did and did not have a physical form.

  Among all the races of the world, it could be said that Ghosts possessed one of the most versatile abilities. Her racial magic allowed her to become incorporeal, passing through other objects as though they weren’t there. Like all magic, the spell had a mind of its own, to a degree—it intuitively understood that Celeste’s clothes and her weapon were a ‘part of her’, so they, too, became incorporeal.

  What made the abilities of Ghosts so versatile, however, was the fact that magic could be persuaded to change its shape. Any given spell had set restrictions and boundaries, but those boundaries could be molded, modified, or removed altogether with the right person, the right mindset, or the right amount of dedication and practice.

  She spun through the air, her sword tracing graceful arcs across the sky as she passed the mech. The terrible screeching stopped the moment her weapon left the mech, and immediately the construct began to slouch; the pilot at its center was dead. A portion along the top of the mech’s armor bore the scar of her attack, a line of dented metal glowing white with searing heat—the result of two objects trying to occupy the same space. A stripe along the blade of her sword bore a similar glowing scar.

  The Volundr mech staggered, struggling to hold itself up without the central pilot. The other limbs stirred, wrenching its body around to make it turn and face her. Maintaining a blank expression, she watched it struggle along. It wasn’t her first encounter with Volundr mercenaries, so she knew how their mechs worked; a team of multiple Volundr rested within the metal armor, their bodies contorted and intertwined to serve as the muscles of the mech’s iron body. Killing just one or two of the pilots wasn’t enough to bring one down.

  She tightened her grip on her claymore, glancing down at the glowing scar burned into its blade. Like her, it was special—enchanted to resist the damage incurred by her techniques, and to repair minor damage over time. In a way, that power was a weakness; the fact it bore such enchantments made it too valuable to lose, and in turn, it made Celeste all the less effective against foes she couldn’t simply kill in a single attack.

  She had used her technique twice now; a third attempt would almost certainly snap the blade in two. She couldn’t afford to lose it here.

  The Leys had blessed her with such incredible powers, so she had no excuse. Why was she still so weak?

  She tried to force the thought back out of her mind. Right now, she wasn’t Celeste. This persona of hers didn’t have a name, but it wasn’t weak or hesitant or cowardly or frail or—

  Was any of that really true?

  When her scouting party was betrayed and ambushed, why had she hid? If she’d taken action like the strong, reliable person she was meant to become, she could have stopped the enemy’s plan. Instead she panicked, lost her composure, fled, hid. Because of her failure, Rasha had died.

  When she’d revealed herself against the Firefly, why had her voice been so quiet, so shaky? Why had it sounded just like Celeste’s voice?

  If she really wasn’t weak, why did these doubts creep in so often now?

  Sils: “Celeste, heads up!”

  A shout yanked her back down to reality. She blinked away her messy thoughts just in time to see something flying through the air towards her. She tossed her claymore aside, letting it float in the air beside her, and caught the incoming projectile—a fishing harpoon.

  Over on the shoreline, she could make out the glowing yellow dot that was Sils beside a soldier, the one who’d just thrown the harpoon. He hurried away, quickly replaced by several other soldiers who’d gathered other improvised weapons for Celeste. She felt bad for destroying the city’s tools like this, but she figured a few harpoons and swords would be cheaper to replace than piers and boats—not to mention something as irreplaceable as a person’s life.

  She turned her attention back to the mech in front of her—only to find that it had collapsed, now half-submerged in the water of the shoreline, its arms over its head. Had it fallen while trying to surrender? The Volundr were just mercenaries, after all; once they realized she was going to beat them, there wasn’t much point in them continuing to fight.

  What should she do, then? Assist Raffica? The Alphicca was facing another mech a short ways down the beach, and with her jets and quick movement she was easily avoiding its attacks and batting the construct around. Her kicks couldn’t pierce the mech’s armor, however; it was a stalemate. Celeste’s assistance would turn the tides.

  Jackie: “Oi, Celeste!” She turned, hearing another voice call her name—Jackie, who was sprinting down the shoreline. “The rest of the mechs are in the center of the bay! Something else in the water is pushing them—a few somethings, I think!”

  Her gaze followed their pointing hand to the bay, then flicked to where Kyte was currently facing yet another mech, the creeping shadows of his powers visible from here. If she stopped them from reaching him, he’d be able to end things quickly on his own.

  She turned back to Sils and the soldiers, raising her voice as best she could muster. “throw me everything..!”

  She disliked speaking when assuming this persona—her own voice was a grim reminder that some part of her was still just Celeste—but this was an extraneous circumstance.

  The soldiers didn’t question her. A hail of spears and swords and other tools were tossed her way; she flew through them, enveloping each in her power as they phased through her arms. With each additional object left levitating in the air, she felt her body and soul constrict from the weight of the magic.

  It felt like she was suffocating by the time she gathered them all. She ignored the pain, gathering all the weightless objects in a bundle under each arm as she raced towards the center of the bay.

  She wasn’t weak. She’d do her part to win this battle. With her powers, she’d turn the tides in their favor. Everything would solve itself after that.

  She wasn’t weak.

  ...was she?

  Chapter Glossary:

  Matthias - A Mantid and second-in-command of Avek Tirion's military.

  | Kyte - The ruler of the Scurvysands and admiral of its military. Uncharacteristically chill for a man of his status. Has a smoking problem.

  The Leys - The force which make up all of reality and are the source of magic. They're said to have some degree of consciousness, and to be responsible for granting racial magic to each of the races, as well as true magic and various magical mutations to certain individuals.

  Volundr - A race of crab-like demihumans. They drew the short end of the stick and only resemble the squishy insides of a crab; they make up for this by crafting and piloting humongous armor mechs.

  | Ghost - An Undead race capable of floating and phasing through objects.