Catalyst

A subtle buzz came into Ariel’s ears by slow degrees, and she almost let out a yawn. Then, she remembered. The shutters closing. A hand on her shoulder. Then, lights out. In that case, she needed to assess the situation without moving, based only on sound -

“It’s good to see you’re awake - I rather wanted for some company.”

Ariel jumped in her seat, eyes flying open. Something was stopping her, damn it! Taut, and… oh, it’s a seat belt.

“You’re not trapped, dear, though I’d recommend against removing your belt until I’ve stopped the vehicle,” came the voice again. It was wizened but warm, and Ariel traced it to the white haired man in the seat ahead.

“…You’re taking me home, aren’t you?”

“Not much for small talk, are you? Pity, really, I was quite hoping for some. This stretch of woods is a dreadful bore when you’ve been through it more than a dozen times.”

Ariel shrugged, taking in the surroundings. It was still dark, with the moonlight visible through the window panel in the roof. At least she hadn’t been knocked out all night. “I guess there’s not any way you let me out here, huh?”

“I’m afraid not, child.”

She sighed. “At least tell me how he knocked me out so easily.”

The man formed a wrinkled grin as he glanced back at Ariel through the rearview mirror. “I can imagine what the governor used, though I can’t tell anyone so easily. Suffice to say that he is a stronger mage than he seems.”

“If he’s so strong, why does he need some hyper-techy home security system?”

“We can use as much assurance as we can get in these times. Besides, where better to test inventions than in the home?”

“Those are his inventions?”

“Not all originals, to be sure. Some components were just upgraded from an existing design. But yes, my employer happens to be an excellent tinkerer as well.”

She was still sore about all that had happened, and that tore the wound right open. “It seems like he can do anything but stop a bunch of bandits.”

The man gave Ariel a curious look in the mirror. “Child, what do you think of the King?”

She shrugged. “My parents don’t hate him. He’s not a genocidal maniac.”

“And you?”

“For all the power he has, he seems pretty useless.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Surely, he has a 1000 meter stare fixed on something. But for the problems of us commoners? We might as well pretend he doesn’t exist, save for taxes. My employer… no, my liege feels the same way.”

“What are you, his knight?” Ariel asked.

“No,” the man said, suddenly stern. “Just a butler.”

“Sure,” Ariel said dubiously. “What keeps you working a menial job f0r this Darius guy?”

“You seem to have the wrong idea about Mr. Stalwart. He’s -”

“I don’t think I do,” she interrupted. “He thinks the king is useless? Well, what’s the stop me from thinking the same about him?”

The old man didn’t have a response to that right away. Staring out into the silhouetted trees on either side, Ariel started to regret shutting him down. Her thoughts wandered to home - what would she say to her parents, after setting out on a dangerous trip and coming back with nothing? They weren’t thoughts she wanted to have - not now, when she could stew indefinitely. The old man was stubborn about that damn governor, but he at least made the drive interesting.

“What’s your name, mister?”

“Call me Dave, if you please. And you’re Ariel, right?”

“You got it. Mind teaching Mrs. Stalwart? I don’t want to have to correct her.”

“Don’t take that personally,” he said with a grin. “She’s always been bad at remembering how things are pronounced. It’s strange to me because she remembers just about everything else.”

“What about hard to remember stuff? Like dreams and stuff?”

“Even dreams,” he said, his gaze distant. “She always has a sense for… danger.”

“What do you mean?”

He didn’t respond but turned the car’s brights on, his head moving slowly but intently. He was looking for something, and a moment later, for the first time since waking up Ariel felt truly trapped. A sickening sense of being watched settled in her stomach and didn’t leave.

Then. In the edge of the car’s highbeams, in the canopy ahead, a pair of eyes glowed back. A fiery light flashed.

“Off the road!” Ariel shouted, but it was too late.

It was as if they had been hit by the car - something must have exploded, because the world around Ariel flew up and tumbled. The screech of metal bending. The smell of blood. It all came at once.

Amid the pain, there was unnatural heat coming closer. The car had landed upside down - Ariel’s body was held by a rigid seatbelt, blood rushing to her head. Opening her eyes a bit showed her a bloodstained windshield - it was the driver’s, and in that moment she felt the horror of what had been done and, by small measures, the terror of being alone.

These are the people that took Isaac.

The pangs of terror sank in deeper as she took in the fire beyond the windshield - the car wouldn’t last long. And then Ariel heard the jeering.

“I can’t believe you missed the engine again, Taku! I thought we’d be seeing fireworks this time.”

“Lay off. It’s burning, right?”

“You tool. The car wasn’t going that fast, so there could still be a live passenger in there. You made a mess and, as always, I’m the one to clean it up.”

Somewhere in the fear, the same thought repeated, but the tone angrier.

These are the people that took Isaac.

She’d heard of normal bandits, certainly, but they usually wanted to steal something. This group was almost certainly Black Hand. Sometimes they kidnapped people from remote towns, sometimes they just killed. There didn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason to it.

Ariel’s chest was stuck on a taught seatbelt, and shakily, she moved to unlock it. Immediately, a voice thundered in her ears – no, in her mind.

Do not make a move, child. It was almost like when Terrence had spoken – if she understood magic right, telepathy. She shivered with instinctive excitement. You should know these are dangerous men – I will handle them.

At once Ariel felt significantly more relaxed, and chastised. Perhaps she should not have relaxed so much – after all, she had placed her trust in an injured old man. Still, a voice that confident was hard to ignore.

The man didn't move right away, and as the attackers approached, a sinking feeling returned. Ariel realized she hadn't heard the sound of the old man unlocking his seatbelt – when she looked ahead, the buckle remained attached to severed straps. Nonetheless, held by nothing, the old man sat normally in his now inverted seat. At that, Ariel realized that she should at least have been hurt - she remembered banging her head on the now crushed-in roof. Still, she felt safe for reasons she couldn’t place.

Wait three seconds, then get as far as you can away from here. The car's burning - an explosion will make good sound to cover your escape, and I'll draw them off.

Before waiting for reply – she didn't have a way to – the man launched himself from the seat, shattering the remaining glass from the windshield and flying off into the night. Ariel counted to three to the sound of shoes against trees, aggressive shouting, and so many explosives.

"Quit it with the rockets, you idiot!"

"I'm just cleaning up my mess," the lackey whined.

"You'll clean up the whole damn forest before you hit him." Over the car's burning, Ariel could barely hear the distinct ringing of something sharp being unsheathed. "I'll handle this. Don't you dare blow me up."

At the sound of the bossy terrorist’s quick steps, Ariel unbuckled her seatbelt slowly, grabbing the headrest of her seat to control her drop. Having flipped around, she crawled along the top of the car, now below, and made for the broken windshield. Exiting headfirst, Ariel was surrounded by flames. Still, he attention focused on the lackey, thankfully facing away, fists clenched. He held a long metal cylinder that must've fired the rockets, and Ariel scrambled out of the windshield, fire singeing her skin and glass cutting, before rushing behind a tree for cover.

She couldn't blame the lackey for staring. In the treetops, the glint of sparks flashed again and again, and sound more than light told the story of vertical running, acrobatics, and enormous strength. Ariel felt herself take a single step back, awed at the strength and agility of the old man and the Black Hand boss clashing in the firelight. Instantly, she scolded herself. I'm not running away again.

The thought was dangerous, borderline suicidal. However, whatever incredible past the butler hid, he was still both old and injured. He didn't seem to have the upper hand, and his stamina wouldn't last. There was no way that Ariel could help him against the man he was fighting. Still…

The moment she stepped out from the tree, crouching so low that her thighs strained, Ariel felt more naked than she had in her life. A single sound would turn the lackey's head… that would be it. She stalked towards him as quickly as she could and took cover behind a fallen Promethean maple. Ariel came within a meter of the burning car - this put her only a couple from the man who could end her life with the pull of the trigger. She kept her head low and listened, silently focusing with all of her strength. A fierce buzz awoke in her body.

Then, after several seconds it happened. As Ariel strained to listen, the wooshing and pounding and slicing sounds disappeared. What remained was hardly a sound at all – but she could barely hear what she identified as blades locked. Gritting her teeth, Ariel looked out cautiously to find the lackey raising his rocket launcher to what her eyes slowly identified as the dueling duo, the old man nearly pressed up against a tree high in the air. The head terrorist stepped forward on the high branch and struck again. The same folk you can get away with stealing from, are the ones who have it just as bad as anyone, her father had said. The urchins take, taxes take, gangs take. But you know better. You can give back to the regular folk. She turned from memory to her own thoughts. I can protect them.

With one arm she vaulted over the huge log, both feet hitting the ground at the same time and one pushing off with a sound too loud to mistake. The lackey turned and shouted, his readied shot soaring off as he did. Ariel ran closer. The man aimed. The instant he had a shot, she lunged right, opposite his heel-turn. Ariel saw the rocket soar past like a shooting star, heard it behind. Ears ringing, she rushed forward and punched the man's chin. Sparks flew from her charged punch, and he reeled backwards.

Still, he didn't let go of the rocket launcher in his right hand. No matter. He wouldn’t blow himself up. She had to count on that as she pressed the attack. Rapid punches kept him dazed as he tried in vain to block with the weapon. She kicked him behind the knee, then snapped an uppercut to the jaw.

“Little bitch!” the man howled. His movements were clumsy, electricity still echoing in his body, but he managed to drop the launcher and fumble for something. Ariel saw it too late. A long knife. It would spill her guts all over the forest floor - hell, it was long enough to cut her straight through. She moved frantically to get away, turning an ankle.

As the man came close, a faint golden light enveloped him - one she hadn’t noticed before. He moved more slowly, and an aged voice echoed in her head. Don’t flee yet. Counter! In a rush of adrenaline, she pressed down with good foot. Initially, the attack was a flash, no doubt empowered by the lackey’s mana. However, she could follow the blade’s arc as it slowed more, as if encountering a gust of wind before even touching her. She intercepted in a flash, the knife edge of her hand blocking the attacker’s wrist. He staggered from the pain, and she immediately grabbed around his wrist. Her palm struck the twisted wrist, and in the moment of baffled pain, his grip weakened. She grabbed the knife, taking a punch without flinching, and stabbed up into the man’s throat. The motion was seamless, and with a final pull to the side, she left him on the ground, clinging desperately to life. She couldn’t see him. She didn’t care about the lackey. She had to make sure the old man lived.

The sharp sound of rushing air came her way. She scrambled back and heard the ringing of a sword where she’d been. A stone cold face stared back in the flickering firelight, and a moment later the head terrorist was in front of Ariel. No way!

A sword flew into her field of view opposite the attacker’s. Then, with a brilliant golden aura leading and thunderous roar following, the old man appeared and, gripping the flying sword, cut one of the attacker’s hands clean off. The sword flew at Ariel, but as it slowed she dodged easily to the side.

You sorely lack discipline, the old man’s voice in her head said, but you do not lack conviction. Run along, child. I will not lose his attention again.

“Like hell I will,” Ariel said aloud. “How’d that work last time?”

As they argued, the terrorist called out a quick chant, and forest roots began growing and twisting around him at incredible speed. Grimacing, the old man rushed forward to attack. The spell was too fast, though, and a wave of vines batted his blade away as wooden armor enclosed the man.

I cannot protect you and use my full power, both. Reply mentally by thinking loudly if you understand.

The terrorist was wrapped in ever more roots and vines, rising up from the forest floor to over two stories tall. His arm came down like a hammer of judgement, and the old man narrowly avoided, his golden aura like the light Ariel had seen earlier. Then, a burst of flame lit up the night as a rocket impacted the terrorist’s massive form, blazing across the front of it. Ariel stood defiantly, lining up another shot with the rocket launcher.

I’m not getting away from a guy that fast. We’re doing this, one way or another.

Vines streaked towards Ariel, the source of the attack, at incredible speed, almost invisibly. It was impossible even with the golden aura around her slowing them. Ariel saw another place then - pouring rain, strangulation. Hatred. This terrified her, but distantly, she felt angry. Determined. She would not stop here. Ariel moved faster than she thought possible; in that moment, she thought she could almost see the vines glowing with their own light. The lackey’s knife cut each one in twain. And with the moment of bought time, golden light blazed like the sun, and when Ariel could see again, the old man had passed to the other side of the wooden monstrosity. Light blazed from a dozen cuts, rising up into the sky and lighting the night. The golem fell to pieces - the man inside surely dead.

As Ariel panted heaving breaths, she realized she hadn’t cut every vine. Her right arm lost hold of the knife, crushed and bleeding where the now-limp vine had wrapped it. She didn’t feel it - not yet. Before that, the strangeness of everything same back to her. They had killed. She had killed. And she didn’t feel anything about it. She could accept that, given the circumstances. But all the rest was even more strange - for example - she’d fought people with weapons before, but she’d never managed a disarm that clean. Most of all, that she was alive.

“You fared far better than I expected,” the old man said, almost reverently, his golden light dying down. “My aura can only do so much, but I knew my best chance was to defeat him immediately and hope we both survived the consequences.”

“You shared that much power with me? And those techniques?”

“The Perfect Shell Aura, yes. And I gave you a touch of mental guidance from our ancestors’ Krav Maga. But the movement? That came from inside of you.”

Ariel shook her head. “There’s no way. I like to think I’m pretty tough, but I’ve never been that fast. If not you, I owe someone a favor.”

“Whatever the case,” the man said, “we need to be getting back. It will be a long walk, even to the nearest town.” He laid his hands on Ariel’s ankle unprompted, and she knew better than to squirm. In a matter of moments, it took her weight right again. As if she needed another clue to realize this guy’s magic skill was unreal.

She nodded along, and followed when he set the course. No more questions allowed, it seemed. For now. But there wasn’t any chance of Ariel forgetting this night - and what she saw here. That was real power.