章 89: Graveyard Of Dreams
My lungs fill with fiery air, air that is so deeply entrenched with Ether that it burns my lungs, veins, and even heart as the wave of power rushes from my organs to the metaphorical-yet-real chains that bind me.
The fire within shatters some connection between Alexos and me, the Ether within my breath distorting his. The breath I breathe in is so much more potent than ever before. The Cabin was not exaggerating. It is a breath so vital that it sends me to my knees with the rush Ether it gives me.
While on the ground holding myself up with my arms, I realize just how strong the newly enhanced Strugglers Gasp is.
It is a breath that literally makes the illusory leaves move and then crack like shattered glass.
A breath that makes the voices surrounding me distort and then recede as if they were never even there.
A breath that makes the illusory copies fade and flicker as if they are unreal before turning them to sparkling dust that blows away.
The air in my lungs fills me with so much Ether that the illusions around me completely crack and break, revealing a surprised Alexos to me. The Ether flowing rapidly through me and into my chains distorts his abilities so heavily that I am free of his illusions. Well, most of them. It seems as though the mirage around his body is more complicated to resist than the other illusions. That one remains.
Alexos looks at me on the ground and laughs in an impressed way, but he in a way that also tries to hide it. His laugh quickly turns to threats as he kneels down to look at me.
"Well, I'll be damned. The little Wendigo's all grown up. You can even resist my wide-area illusions. How about something more personal?"
His words make worry grow in my heart as I look around to find my friends and see that they're still on the Nightmare. Virgil and Earl are currently trying to swing back around and are firing bullets at something far to my right.
Alexos must have them under his grasp. My Strugglers Gasp only freed me from his illusions. It left them still mesmerized. That means I need to get us out of here. To achieve my goal of escape, I try to stand, but the exponential increase in my strength is far too much. Even my enhanced control and precision are not enough to manage my strength for the first time.
The force I put into my leg to prop me up sends me rolling head over heels backward amidst Alexos' laughs.
"Aahhaahahaha. Maybe I don't even need to. You look like you're tripping yourself pretty badly. Nah, who am I kidding? Let's dial this up to the max. I'll even let your friends out so I can focus on having fun with you."
While he talks, I land on my stomach with my arms sprawled out. I'm uninjured from my movements; only the stabs and cuts remain from my exchange with Alexos' and his illusory copies. I try to carefully push myself up using my hands, but as I do, everything around me shifts like a kaleidoscope.
Nausea builds instantly in my core as the entire world around me gains unknown colors and spins rapidly. It feels like looking into a crack in reality, things that should never be seen appear before my eyes that can't be shut out even with my eyelids closed. Things that should never be heard caress ominously across my eardrums, skipping my ears entirely. Things that should never be felt move along my skin as I struggle to haul myself over the ground.
I have no idea what's happening to me. I'm unsure if this is an illusion anymore; it all feels surreal, yet there is no way out.
I try again to move, to stand, to do anything but just sit here like a dead fish for Alexos to gut, but nausea and the spinning kaleidoscope want me to do otherwise. Just moving makes me want to empty my guts, let alone try to fight or escape.
While I sit here trying to figure out what to do, a loud voice joins the cacophony of sensations and stimulation.
"Ahh, close, but no cigar. You almost resisted this one too. What about this one? Do you like this one? I call this one the Graveyard Of Dreams. Fits, doesn't it? Don't worry; while you lay there like a comatose addict, I'm engaging in blissful communication with your dear friends."
How Alexos can go from a scared yet kind man trying to atone for his sins to this abomination in a single minute is beyond me. Whatever this man has been through must be terrible to teach him to do that. He's almost like an actual Skinwalker, only his body isn't what actually changes. It's just his mind and the illusions that do.
The fact he even has names for specific illusions is disturbing. "Graveyard Of Dreams" is so foreboding that I don't even know how to act. The sounds, sights, and feelings it gives are so odd and distracting that I struggle to move or even think.
Voices of people giving up and sights of kaleidoscopic dying people shift my focus, keeping me from finding a way out of this illusion. I don't even know if there is one. My solution was Strugglers Gasp creating such a tremendous influx of Ether to distort the effects of his Ether. It worked, but only temporarily. He's too far ahead of me in Ether manipulation, so he can likely find a workaround that I've never even thought of.
The gasp of Ether also increased my physical attributes so much that it feels like I'm a whole new man, only that I cannot even use them. Alexos is turning my own strength against me, making it even harder to control my new power.
Sounds enter my ears here or there of Virgil and Earl fighting as I fight with myself for a solution that doesn't seem to come. I know Alexos is sending them to me just to further distract me, but it's working. How is this Alexos pulling his punches?! He's taken me out with seemingly little effort, and now he's fighting both my friends.
More kaleidoscopic visions of people dying just before reaching their goals inundate me, the shifting, constantly turning colors making me only more nauseous and disoriented. I can only curl in a ball on the ground to not expel my stomach.
All of my confidence and hate has been so quickly shattered as I lay in a fetal position, my mind being attacked in every conceivable way with horrendous illusions. Illusions that slowly give me colorful peeks of reality. Peeks of Virgil and Earl being fatally wounded and nearing death. What do I do?
What do I do?
What do I do?
What do I do?
I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
There's nothing I can even do! I can't move without falling. My strength is so high I can't even fall without almost breaking something. But if I release my breath, then I will undoubtedly drop; the Ether that has entered me will likely either knock me out or push me right up against the Edge.
Panic rises even further as tightness grows in my chest. Signs that Strugglers Gasp is nearing its limit. My body is nearing its limit without ever using its most substantial strength. I don't know what to do. If I do nothing, I die along with my friends. Alexos is too much to fight, even without his illusions. Virgil is strong but can't handle the master of illusions' speed. Maybe Johnny could, but not Virgil; he's best at ambushes.
If I try to move, all I do is make my situation worse. Dig a deeper hole beneath me from the depths of the illusions. Every time I try to get up, the kaleidoscope only worsens, the disorientation rising after every movement.
Alexos named it aptly. Graveyard Of Dreams. To make someone who could save a situation paralyzed in something as simple as disorientation and nausea. It's heartbreaking. Not just that, but allowing one to see glimpses of what's going on outside without being able to help. It feels as though each person I see die within the kaleidoscope is someone who has been under this very illusion, their distress and panic looking familiar to mine.
Wait. Dreams! I've answered this sort of riddle before. For my Metaphor. Is this a chance to prove it? You break out and prove your dreams through grit?
This idea shines a light on a new skill I've ignored because of its primarily passive nature. Ironheart. I named it so that it could both keep my heart beating and my will made of iron. I think this fits.
I try to push aside the kaleidoscope and focus my will, stretching Ether into my mind hoping to enhance my mind with it. I'm unsure if it has any effect as I feel my mind brush against another's. Or at least the Ether left behind by another.
Focusing on this hard-to-notice Ether, I levy my will against it, my Ironheart, trying to break it. I push, and I push, and I push, but nothing seems to give. The Ether holds together like a piece of wrought iron wrapped around my brain. The only effect is that my brain begins to burn and overheat from the strain.
I want to sigh for the lost effort, but I cannot. If I do, the breath that distorts Ether and keeps me up currently will exit along with it. I do not want to see what Alexos can do to me if I don't have the mass of Ether from Strugglers Gasp to protect me like a shield. Although the shield may have spikes inside, whatever it defends me from is undoubtedly more dangerous.
Desperation grows as I see a kaleidoscopic flash of Virgil being knocked out, his head slamming worryingly hard against a rock. Only one option remains. One that I loathe and regret to do every single time I do it.
A considerable part of my arsenal from my Sigil is eternally occupied, protecting me from the monstrosity that is my left hand, no, now my left forearm as well. A third of all my Sigil skills that can help in combat are permanently preoccupied.
Regretting my actions already filling my mind, I shift my warding Daydream away from my elbow and into my mind. I use the Daydream to bolster my resilience to illusions, the vast application of the ability allowing me to do so without much effort. The only difficulty comes after.
The second I do, I feel voices, even more voices that enter my mind from inside me alongside the illusions that enter from outside. They start pretty muffled and slow, for it seems like the Bloody Palm needs a few moments to rev up its madness.
I take its slowness in stride and immediately try to stand, pushing my mind against the Ether that holds the illusion the whole while. I feel it begin to break after a few seconds before the sparkling effects of shattered illusions meet my eyes.
The kaleidoscope fades, but with it, so does the Bloody Palms sluggishness as the world reveals itself to me.
Surprise covers my face as I see what's happening. All the illusions that Alexos gave me are false.
The scenes of Virgil getting knocked unconscious and Earl getting injured were all fake. Instead, what remains is both of them swinging in the air with weapons, no longer willing to shoot because of the mirages. Both of them are perfectly fine, completely uninjured.
Instead, it is I that is hurt. Pain from everywhere bleeds itself into me abruptly as I look down. Almost every single piece of flesh from my body has been sliced off, turning me into an abomination of red muscle and blood. I genuinely am just muscle, bones, and arteries at this point. Not just that, but dozens of stab wounds grace my person, making liters of blood fall out of me as the Bloody Palm works to keep us alive. The man blinded me from any pain he was inflicting. Insane.
Beside me giggles Alexos, still covered in his personal illusions and holding an entire strip of human skin that I uncomfortably recognize as mine. Even with everything I possibly can stack up to see through them, they remain. It seems as though whatever he has that protects his person is so deeply entrenched that not even I can break through them.
"Aww, you broke out of that? Ewww, you better take a look at your arm. That's pretty rough, buddy. Get that checked out, man."
His words make my eyes shift down to my arm, where the ashy veins of the Bloody Palm are bulging and trying to make their way past my elbow. Worry builds within me as I consider moving my Daydream back, but the look on Alexos' face keeps me from doing so.
The second I deal with the Bloody Palm, the man will make his move. And something tells me that this time he won't just skin me; he'll kill me. I think that was him pulling his punches right there. That the next time he won't be able to fake his madness so much that it leaves me alive.
His act does not elicit any gratitude from me, however. It only makes me want to kill him more. At this point, I don't even care if his story is true. Even if it is, someone who can act like this needs to die. Not as much as the demon who makes him like this, but still. He must be claimed by the pale lady. I'll do it myself if I have to.
For several seconds we just stare at each other, him watching the Bloody Palm wiggle its way up my arm and me keeping him in my sight so that he doesn't attack my friends. That and I need time to get used to my strength. I didn't even have time to test this skill since I got it. It's only been a day, after all.
During our staring contest, I see the pale flame in his pupils that signal the watchful gaze of Hura oscillate. Then, Alexos laughs, shakes his head, and refuses an inaudible voice.
"No, I want to kill these three. They're so interesting. Don't call me back."
The way he says he wants to murder us is so filled with truth and bloodthirst that I take a small step backward. The one-sided argument continues, however. Alexos constantly waves his head back and forth as he speaks, almost like a madman raving.
"Come on, man. Don't do this to me. I was just starting to have fun.
~~~~~~
Yeah, who cares if I'm hurt? It'll heal up in a few days from that explosion. In time for the raid, don't you worry.
~~~~~~
Ugh! Fine. Fine. Can I just kill one of them, then?
~~~~~~
What do you mean by risking my life? They only hurt me because the one in black had some trick prepared that blinded me, and the one scared of dice in the back planted dynamite that I couldn't see. If anything, you have made it harder to fight. Look at 'em! They're still wet under their noses. That one can't even weigh a hundred pounds!
~~~~~~~"
I don't know what to do as I just watch the argument that Alexos has with himself. Well, I actually know who he's talking to. It must be Hura, the Demon Of Storms. Apparently, he thinks that we are a threat to Alexos' life. And Alexos revealed to me out loud that he was injured, which is incredibly surprising.
The fact that the dynamite hurt Alexos enough that Hura, who can see and feel everything Alexos can, thinks that we might kill him makes me realize just how important that minute Alexos gave us was. Without it and Earl's explosives, he would be moving at full strength and without any reason to retreat.
His argument continues for a bit longer before concluding unexpectedly.
"So, you're saying I can't kill them, but I can kill their horse? How is that any easier? Do you even know what you're saying, Hura?
~~~~~
Fine, Lord Hura?
~~~~~~
Who cares if it's one of your beasts? It's theirs now. Why risk my life for your ego instead of my fun? I don't understand.
~~~~~~~
Okay, okay, fine, fine. I'll do it. I understand, 'It's an affront to your mother.' Just don't snuff out my light."
Alexos' argument with Hura ends with the demon ordering him to slay the Nightmare that we have been riding. Apparently, humans controlling one of his monsters is an affront to the Mother Below, whatever that means.
For a second, I consider stopping Alexos from killing the Nightmare, but quickly glancing at it makes me realize our priority. We just need to make it back. The loss of the horse will slow us down, but not so much as to ruin our way back. I take a moment to measure my strength and think about how I will move.
Alexos has somehow shifted this to us only losing our horse. It's a brilliant deal, and I'm more than happy to take it.
Then, I burst toward the Nightmare with never before seen speed and drag both of my friends off the back of the giant horse covered in dark fur. My movements are hoarse and rough, definitely leaving bruising on my friends from my too-powerful strength. I barely get them off and past the horse as Alexos follows me.
Just the way the man runs feels like an illusion, his legs seemingly never moving as he runs toward the horse. I jump backward abruptly as I see a line of red cover the horse's neck before massive amounts of blood fall to the ground from its body. We all go several feet backward. I only manage to get my feet underneath me to catch us at the last moment. Slowly, I'm getting the hang of my strength.
As this happens, Alexos turns toward me with blistering speed. He gives me a quick whisper before attacking me one last time, breaking the order of the Demon Of Storms. His actions make me once again wonder just whose side he's on.
I try to dodge backward as the master of illusions shifts toward me, but I'm carrying both of my friends, who are struggling in my arms against my grip. Only my insane strength, boosted by all my avenues of Ether, keeps them stable, but I struggle to keep my movements from hurting them. The combination of these restrictions slows me down slightly from hesitance and carefulness.
My backstep doesn't move me backward fast enough as Alexos' open hand sinks into one of my stab wounds. Flesh rumbles and twists as he stabs into me. I drop Virgil and try to retaliate with my knuckles, seeking to drop him in one hit, but immediately after, he stabs his fingers into me; however, the man backs up as he holds onto his chest like a man having a heart attack. Seems like Hura didn't like his move.
"Okay, okay, okay. I'll leave them alone. You know you're only making things worse, distracting me like this. Ow! Fine, no backtalk. I'm coming right now, Lord Hura."
Alexos tries another argument befitting his facade before turning and running away. The illusions over both of my friends rapidly fade as he makes his distance into the night. This whole exchange has been so odd I don't even know what to think.
I do know what to do, however. I create a funnel with my hands around my mouth and release my breath of Ether into the sky to release the pressure in my chest. An enormous zephyr exits my lungs and flies into the air, picking up sand along with it. After I remove the Ether, I feel a significant weakness that seeks to knock me unconscious, but I have things I need to do before it does.
Exhausted, I redirect my Daydream to defend myself against the Bloody Palm. Sadness and flickers of defeat grow as I see that the palm has gained ground on my arm. No longer do we meet perfectly on my elbow. Now I have to move the strip of cloth up an inch or so to aid my Daydream's defense of my body.
After I do that, I fall to the ground next to the dying Nightmare in exhaustion from overuse of my Ether. A pounding headache and lead limbs nail me to the bloody sand. Sadness suffuses me as I realize just how weak I am. Barely able to survive an attack from a man who is not only actively trying not to kill us behind the lines but who is also being ordered to retreat.
So tired and so used to being injured, I don't even notice or acknowledge the flesh stripped from my body or the plethora of wounds. I merely nod to sleep, expecting the Bloody Palm to take care of it.
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