Fists and Fortune 22 – The Final Days  
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The shovel dug deep into the dirt. Putting his heel onto the flattened top of the metal, Apexus pushed it deeper. Then, he strained his muscles and threw the dirt on the swiftly growing piles. Several others were mimicking the same motion. Monks quietly went after their work, Warriors and Fighters boasted about being able to shovel the most, Rogues tried to figure out a way to do this in an easier way, while Priests, Druids and Shamans utilized magic to support the digging efforts.

The gathering of adventurers, most of them novices, was digging a pit in the harbour of the Teacher’s Isle – the place where Apexus and his party had made landfall. This would be where they made their stand. The open plaza would have made for a disadvantageous battlefield in an engagement of one unholy powerful entity against an assembly of many average to strong individuals.

Every advantage that could be claimed had to be claimed. By digging a pit, they would be able to give the ranged participants an easier time aiming. Once the entirety of the grounds were cleared, they would create two rings inside that would hopefully serve to obstruct the Deathhound in one way or another. The creature was there for Apexus, so alternative prey exiting its field of vision was hopefully going to let those people seek out one of the healers. Traps were designed, battle plans steadily optimized, and grim prayers spoken by those fearing for their life.

Apexus had been given many a poisonous glare when the announcements had first been made public. None reached him anymore. Those that were unwilling to risk their safety for this had by now vacated. All who stayed were those knowing or at least willing to face the danger coming their way. Few brave fools stayed only to prove themselves, to have said they had participated in the death of a Deathhound.

A couple of times, Apexus had been approached with a request to showcase his unknown nature. Requests that the chimera slime had obliged. At the end of their plan, Apexus had to devour the demon, to kill it permanently. Stealthily, that could not be achieved. Everyone had to be in on the plan.

It felt odd, to trust so many strangers with a secret they had previously guarded so closely. Albeit, by now, it was no secret at all anymore. Apexus’ nature would seep out from this place, spread by the various adventurers that started out on their journeys once they had finished learning here. The vastness of the Omniverse would contain this knowledge in pockets. Perhaps it would even fade into rumours. Perhaps it would reach the various guilds with renewed vigour and spread rapidly throughout the organizations. Fact was only that it was no longer hidden. Its spread was out of the hands of the party.

Yet, Apexus felt safe. Safer, perhaps, than he ever had. For all their curiosity, those that were around bore no malicious intent. There was nothing left hidden and thus nothing left he needed to protect with an eagle’s eye and a turtle’s shell. No secret he had could potentially turn the sentiment of those around him against him anymore.

It was liberating.

“Dig more in that direction!” Pronthin shouted down into the pit. The Priest pointed them in the general direction of the water. Common sense suggested that they should not get too close to the ocean. They were still far enough away that it would not become an issue. Once the workforce was relocated, the teacher directed his eyes back to the sky. Every last preparation that could be made had to be made.

Apexus’ mind wandered across the ocean, where a delegation of teachers and students currently tracked down the path they had taken. The Church would take care of the Stem being evacuated. The Deathhound would not emerge from the same portal the party had taken. A complication of vast proportions, making the exact path the Deathhound would take impossible to predict – until it arrived at that lonely island far off the coast of Terrostir.

It was all so close now. Three more weeks.

Apexus trained and shovelled, shovelled and trained. The pit grew deeper and wider with each swing of the tool. The adventurers chatted happily during their breaks, sometimes inviting each other to drink. One time Apexus was invited too. One time he obliged, mostly because Reysha felt like it. A decision she came to regret, incapable of enjoying any of the alcohol.

Two more weeks.

The pit was finished, as far as the digging went. The sounds of hammering echoed through the harbour. Wood and metal were put into place, creating a more and more elaborate structure. The soundness of the structure was their lifeline.

One more week.

Drinking was entirely replaced with training for everyone. Drills on combat in the fighting pit took over anything else. The city around transformed into a ghost town. Every last non-combatant pulled away. Nervousness became more and more commonplace. The nerves of those that remained withstood the strain.

One day.

Apexus listened to the cracking of the firewood. The flickering flames provided his eyes with something to focus on, something to be fascinated by, while his empty mind tumbled like a leaf in gentle winds. Every second felt like another gift and another plunge towards inevitable chaos.

“Do you ever want to just… run away?” Reysha asked.

No reaction. The tiger girl laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her hands were peacefully folded over her chest, her expression solemn. Dressed in her day clothes, she concentrated on her breathing. Memories flashed in her mind, memories she had done so well coming to terms with. Pictures that she knew were overexaggerated by her traumatized mind flashed before her eyes. Fire, brimstone, and a cacophony of screams drawing out for what felt like hours. Runes in the sky and the ground. Hair shaped from veins. Beauty.

Aclysia’s quiet recollections were accurate. In some ways, she wished they had not been. She could recall in vivid detail the moment Mehily’s eyes had been plucked out. The summoning of the Empress of Blood and the terrible difference between her gorgeous appearance and the rotten inside of the fallen angel.

“Always,” she confessed into the silence. “I wish my father had created me with the bravery required to face a situation such as this. I am an angel, an embodiment of the divine. To be brought to the edge of abandon by fear is unbecoming of a being meant to protect creation.”

Apexus turned his eyes from the flames, to where his first love sat. Her hands were moving in a steady rhythm, braiding her hair, then releasing it again. A gesture born from the sheer need to do something. “You have learned all the bravery you need. You are still here.”

Aclysia’s hands stopped and she met the gaze of her beloved with deep uncertainty. Seeking more assurance in his presence, she took his side by the fireplace. Deeply, they cuddled together. “Thank you, darling,” she whispered. “Be my anchor in these trying times.”

“Only if you will be mine.” Apexus kissed the top of her head.

“Tomorrow around this time we could be dead,” Korith stated, herself sprawled out on the floor. “Hoard knows it’s not the first time I’ll face danger, but… you make this future sound so terrifying.”

“It is a Tharnatos Class demon,” Aclysia reminded. “A monstrosity shy of adventurers qualified to stand before the trials of divinity, in terms of power.”

“It’s a creature.” More, Reysha could not contribute. Even more recent memories were tinged by the shadow of nightmares. Despite the warmth in the room and the hellish heat in her memories, she shivered. Hard, she grabbed her left arm. She did not notice her claws digging into her skin until the black mist rose from the hardening demon blood.

Apexus pulled up Aclysia with him and they settled over to the bed. Firmly, he took hold of Reysha’s arm and pulled it aside. The trenches she dug into her limb closed quickly, soon hiding the nature underneath the same brown that covered the rest of her. “It can die like the rest of us.”

“What if I can’t attack it?” Reysha mumbled. “What if this fucked up arm does something to me after all?”

The question hung in the room for a while. They had an assurance from Melios, but what was the word of a dragon compared to existential dread? “I do not know what happens then,” Apexus stated truthfully. Gradually, he pulled Reysha into a deep embrace. “I know that I will do everything I can to not let it harm you.”

Reysha swallowed back a sudden rise of tears. Then she giggled. “You’re learning a bunch of corny lines these days.”

“From where would he learn those?” Korith asked, sitting up and waddling over. She was readily accepted into the embrace. “From Maltos?”

“Maltos has no hand for romance,” Apexus reported. By the words of the Monk, his life had been too focused on doing good by the world to do good by his family – a fact that he regretted more than anything else. “Eagles dive, seagulls dive, but one does it headfirst.”

“You and your Apexusisms.” Reysha pressed a kiss on his neck. The smooch continued until the last bits of her shiver went away. His warmth, his smell, his presence, they all served to remind her that she was not done living yet.

Sitting in his lap, Korith rested her forehead on his chest. “Are you afraid at all, Apexus?”

“Yes.”

“Of what, darling?” Aclysia investigated, cuddling up closer to him.

“I don’t want to die again.” Apexus put a hand on his sternum, his core pulsing with magic behind the thickened bone. “The inertia of losing my body. The pain of the last of my reserves dissolving. Instincts uncoordinated attempting to regenerate all that I am, when there is no energy for even a fraction of it. The hunger. The thirst. Will I be able to withstand it or will I be incapable of resisting again? What or who will I end, devour them so fully that they are removed from creation?”

“Darling…” Aclysia whispered, squeezing him tightly. She wanted to assure him that it wasn’t his fault, but that would not have helped him. She wanted to assure him that it wasn’t that bad, but there was no graver act that one could commit than extinguishing the Spark of a sapient being whose only crime was being at the wrong place at the wrong time. The true weight of that action rippled through time. The afterlife in the Trunk of the Omniverse would not see that man reunited with his family. Never would he be reborn or fade happily into the energy pulsing through the world. He would be finished. Absolutely.

If there was one thing about her beloved that horrified her, then it was this capacity. In the fight, it would aid them. Yet, it was an ability that belonged to the enemy above all enemies. To the nothingness.

“More than that, I’m afraid of losing any of you.” Apexus suddenly fell backwards, pulling all three of them with him. All together now, they lay on the bed, like they had so many times before. Aclysia to his right, Reysha to his left, Korith on top of him. “I will not let that fear prevent me from doing what must be done. A mammal does not stop feeding its young because the world is dangerous. We must grow stronger.”

“To grow stronger, we must survive,” Reysha continued the thought.

“To survive, we must be ready,” Aclysia whispered.

“To be ready, we must be brave, right?” Korith’s voice quivered a bit.

Reysha flicked the kobold’s forehead. “Don’t sound so uncertain when you say something good. That was good… that was…” the redhead let out a long sigh. “Gods, I feel like I’m about as ready as I get and I still feel like shit.”

“Same,” Apexus confessed.

“The nervousness will not be settled by anything short of the event passing,” Aclysia posited.

“So… what do we do?” Korith asked. “Cuddle and… suffer the time away?”

“We brave the time and rest as much as we can,” Apexus said with a wry smile. “A small, but important difference.”

“You look good when you smile,” Reysha mumbled. “Don’t let that be taken away from me.”

“I won’t.”

 

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