65: A Subtle Hand
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I caught his glazed eyes just before committing to the amputation. The dead bystander lay almost out of sight around a cleft. I whip my blade forward and sever his hand, then stretching as far as the coral curse will allow, I manage to scoop it backwards and high-five it mid-air. 

Consumer/Routine Spirits collected

The hammer misses and slams the planet, rattling the Zoo’s foundations. I sprint on as the withering white dust wafts away from my arm, all the way to the wall where I slap a green symbol.

“Heart of the wilds!” Yells the announcer. 

Our rocky scenery slowly crumbles away as Kork practises hard landscaping. I’ve circled back around into the remains of his original path, only to find a clearing and the man himself.

The crowd’s raucous shouts tell me they didn’t expect the fight to go on this long.

With a lack of enthusiasm, the announcer calls out in a monotone fashion.

“The Yorkton’s Seal.”

The audience boos as a metal insignia drops down like a pinata, right in the centre of our dance. A screech signals the portcullis reopening from within the wooden doors. I shimmy around the seal, putting the entrance at my back.

“Hey Pork! Didn’t mean to hurt your girlfriend.” I dramatically shake out my right hand.

My opponent, breathing hard now, circles the dangling seal and then drops towards me. The doors swing open with a vicious roar. Kork realises my trap, baiting him into falling towards whatever monster appears through those doors. He tosses his hammer as I grin and try to dodge away, it catches me in the air and smashes me across the arena. My sword arm is decimated and my ribs are shattered. A white hot pain races through my side as I try to push the great chunk of crafted metal off me. It feels like an entire Ferrum tree’s mass is holding me down. I squirm and pivot, gritting my teeth with the effort. Knowing Kork will be stamping my head at any moment now, I push with everything I have.

Neuo increased 19/20

I create a tiny gap and roll away. 

A flash of green passes over me and smashes the metal wall with a bang. As the smoke clears it reveals a mound of fur and limbs. A guardian from the wilds, it stands to its full height and roars in fury.

“Thank the Mother, it’s the king,” I shout out catching the massive guardians' attention. It was the same one that we met the day before discovering Livingston’s Emporium. Primitive anger masks its face, those emerald eyes bore into me as it bounds towards me like a starving polar bear. 

I hear Kork’s laugh as I hold my arms out in surrender, dropping to my knees in submission. The guardian skids to a stop, sniffing my hair. Through its eyes, I see the wilderness, the true silva of ferns seas and green waves. The deep guttural laughter dies as the guardian accepts me as part of its kingdom and moves on.

The two heavyweights collide with an almighty thud. Wailing on each other as the crowd loses its mind with excitement. The guardian has strength on its side, all four limbs battering and clawing at Kork. But his armour holds true, his rampart defence doesn’t wane under the onslaught. He pounds back with his gauntlets, enjoying the thrill of challenging such a beast. The bear holds tight to Kork throughout the battle, always gripping him in fear of being flung across the arena once more. I stumble over to my sword, my side battered and ruined from the hammer blow. I hope the guardian doesn’t need any subs for I’ll surely die in a heartbeat. 

At that moment, the guardian bites down on Kork's exposed face, tearing into his soft cheek and lips. A spray of blood erupts as the giant man screams. A heat wave warps the air around him, his blood red eyes spot me and the two fall in my direction. The wall of flesh and metal tumbles along the ground as the guardian continues its attacks. Tasting blood, it snaps and tears with the aggression of honey badger on meth. Stopping with a crash against a mound of rocks. Kork's arm sticks out of the dust cloud with the heat wave of his Will radiating off it. At first, I thought he was pointing at me until I hear the scraping coming from behind and see the hammer shoot towards him like a missile.

He catches it in a smooth swing and cracks the guardian across the snout. Snapping its mouth in half. No wonder the tribe feared the heroes of Order attacking Mother’s realm. The strongest guardian can barely damage an unarmed man. Their fight won’t last much longer, then it’ll just be me and him. The rock formations that still stand are blocking access to the other symbols on the wall. With my ruined body, their effects may get me killed quicker anyway. I search for a weapon or escape and see the glistening stage lights reflected in the puddles of red all around me. There’s one option. Stumbling about as the alpha goliath takes his place, I gather what I can. Slitting my palm, I’m about to add my blood when I see it spinning slowly in the puddle. The reflection of the York insignia.

“You!” Kork points towards me, his ability charging to pull me close.

The guardian twitching in its death rattle behind him.

Mirrored Image

The pile of flesh and body fluids bubbles as my head swims. I collapse as a monstrosity rises. An amalgamation stands over me, its mass an eldritch horror silhouetted against the lights. I command it just as Kork's gravity takes effect. We slide off the floor together and free fall as he aims his warhammer like a baseball bat. My creation's half-horse, half-lion head roars as the hammer swings, instantly exploding its body back into blood and bone. 

“We have a winner!” Cries the announcer as I bounce off Kork’s soiled chest.

His weapon rises like an executioner's axe, a wicked smile spreads across his blood soaked face. It swings in an arc, moving like a comet with the aid of his abilities. A gust of cold air wafts over me, chilling my sweaty body. I crack an eye and see Kork standing in shock. His hands grasp at the mist, in the shape of his weapon, before it disperse into nothing. 

A woman in the lighting blue robes of York House stands beside us. Her sardonic grin drinks in Kork's confusion with lustful satisfaction.

“Harper! How dare you interrupt!” The defier screams.

“Welcome to the raid,” She says while indicating to his armour.

Amongst the blood splattered gore that paints his armour is the York insignia. Snatched out of the air by my monster, it managed to plant it on the big man before being decimated.

Confusion turns to anger and then horror. “No… no! It must be taken voluntarily.”

“So it was, brought to you with your own ability. Shame, you were doing so well.” Her soft laughter damages him more than even the guardian could. 

“I-

“Have no choice. The Yorks will ensure your place at the front of the vanguard is reserved.” 

She claps her hands as white smoke spills out. The iridescent armour disperses into mist leaving the giant man naked. Two thuds announce more Yorks landing nearby. Their might isn’t as subtle as Harpers. Entrenched in thick plate armour, one forms a spear of glass to coax Kork forward while the other binds his limbs and neck with vines. Thistles grow from the ends, thorns along the vine's length that cut into his exposed flesh. 

“Entice his entourage if they have the gall to show face. The whole band together would make a wonderful sight at the head of the raid.” She relishes the idea. The giant man visibly slouches as he’s escorted out of the contestant's doors. The crowd's mix of boos and cheers start to die as they leave the stands.

“Resourceful yet suicidal.” She studies me. 

“I’m not interested.” I try to stand tall and proud, but let out a little whimper from my shattered side.

“Seth, if we wanted you on the raid. You’d be waving the York banner with that delinquent.” She gestures to Kork as he disappears into the Zoo’s underbelly. Then beckons me to follow her as she heads towards the opposite side.

She knows my name. I try not to touch the curse on my arm or show fear.

“You mean-”

“Exactly, you’re not the first contestant to try that little trick. But rules, like history. Can be… reworked.” She says as we leave the spotlight for the shadows. “It merely requires absolute power and a subtle hand, moving pieces and people. Always resulting in our control going uncontested and our honour unblemished.” She looks down at me as she steps close, and like a rodent caught under the gaze of a hawk, I freeze. 

Satisfied, she strokes my cheek as the bone white smoke swirls free. The chill is dreadful, sudden and gripping but I’ve skirted death so recently I’m unable to shiver without fear of drawing the reaper's scythe in.

“Kork is a great warrior, at least the people believed so. That gave him power the house detested. Now tricked and dishonoured in a simple bout with a simple man. His fame will die as they forget him.”

“So you used me?” 

“Opportunities come like Order’s chalice, when presented with one you seize it. We may require more of those in the future.” She weaves her fingers in the air to form a ring of mist and hands it to me.

I hold it before me like it’s a poisoned apple.

“A tool for communicating, nothing more, nothing less.”

I slip it on next to my lover's ring, it vanishes from sight though I feel its coolness on my skin.

“Do you even need this? I mean, you know my name. How long have you been watching me?”

“Arrogance ill suits you, it's how you ended up in this pit. When a stranger starts asking about members of Yorton’s sacred library, we notice.” She coos.

“Portland? I wasn’t aware his vocation is so… protected.”

“House secrets are. Which he took to his grave. That rancid plague will take the best of us. Luckily you played your part fabulously or this conversation-” She looks around at the dirty floor and rusting bars. “Would have happened in a very similar place, but been far more unpleasant.”

I internally scold myself and curse Folkston for sending me towards my doom so willingly and unprepared. I’m still in a jungle here, they just hide the predators better.

“I was only looking for a way to get Topside. I heard Portland could help.” I say with genuine innocence. 

The lady lets out a delighted chuckle and takes my hand. With a touch of her finger, the misty ring solidifies and bares her House insignia.

“We are not savages at the top, well not all of us. This will get you back in the sun.” She caresses my face with that cold touch once more, like a cat playing with a mouse.

“Remember this kindness.”

Harper looks into the murky Zoo’s darkness and then turns back to me.

“We shall be in touch.” She puffs into mist.

My exhaustion and wounds leave me yearning for my bed, I’ll worry about Harper and the York House later.

The official practically skips through the white haze and up to me. “Quite the showman! You may have bankrupted a fair few families with that performance. Omnia’s eyes were watching those odds. What an outcome, great result for business though.” He slaps my sore side merrily and then quickly apologises for my grimace.

“Aye, profit is everything.” The rogue appears offering me an ebony. He eyes the now invisible ring on my finger, sneaky bastard.

I sneer at the sociopathic toad. “Good point, what of my winnings?”

“Minus 15 pennies.” The official replies.

“Excuse me?” I snap.

“Well I told you to make a bet and you owe us for the chair.”

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