Weight of Worlds

Dovar hovered underneath the dome, its chill descending on him like a frigid blanket. The fight, blazing purple, refracted through the thick layers of ice, tinted his body. Ranvir and Saleema clashed. The locusts harried her. An insectile horde devouring all in their path. Small enough to pick apart even Saleema’s densely layered techniques, multitudinous to rip it apart in moments.

He was supposed to help co-ordinating the efforts to clean up the streets of the city. Though Ranvir’s impact hadn’t shattered the dome, it had fractured its many layers. Flakes of ice had fallen from the heights, deceptively slow and small. Yet the dome covered more than a mile, each splinter was bigger than a man.

Each collision, even when a person was spared the impact, at best left blocks of ice that blocked the street. At worst, they tore into the buildings or broke the cobbles. By this point, all the injured had been taken care of, yet the civilians had not retreated as they should.

The sight was not unlike the one above him. Soldiers and tethered, ushering people inside, only for them to invalidate the efforts and sneak out elsewhere. Throughout the city, throngs of people, some a dozen thick, many in the hundreds, walked the pathways. Some had started up a sort of wailing chant, audible, but the meaning was lost to distance.

Thankfully, it seemed no violence had yet to break out, though the… vigils were growing numerous. Every time the soldiers split them up, the people re-emerged but didn’t always rejoin their old groups.

Dovar worried at his lip, lowering himself into the heat of the city. More people like him, hovering above districts and squares, were watching the fight. Their eerie stillness turned them to statues in the sky, eyes turned to the fight above. Hovering on a platform required restricting your movements to stop toppling it over. Some people had gathered underneath the tethered, their chanting more organized and steady.

It was important that the streets remained free. Should the army inside the city need to move, they couldn’t allow themselves to get clogged in the streets. Nor could the tethered without traversal. Except for obsidian and ice, there was a trick to movement. Usually, requiring specific Disciplines or Concepts.

Smoke and Light could only reasonably fly with the Body Discipline, which wasn’t most folks’ go to. Many warp tethered never picked up any significant traversal, nor did space-tethered.

“They are worshiping him,” Saif said, floating up beside him. His visage seemed to tear at the edges, darkening to smoke, the occasional ember flitting through. Dovar looked over. Exhaustion shadowed Saif’s face, the slightest marks at his eyes enhanced by the wear on him. He’d been the master on watch when Saleema and Ranvir’s fight resumed.

There’d been others too, watching in the wings. Like the royal court, whispering and chattering as the audience dragged on and on. Everyone already knew the results, but couldn’t look away. What if, by the slightest of chances, he succeeded? The entire plane watched Ranvir fight Saleema.

Dovar wondered what they chanted in their heads. Would they rather an unstable and interminable ruler, liable to disappear for decades, or stable and crushing in presence?

Comparing them to courtiers might not be the most apt comparison. Foxes hiding in the bushes, eager for the leftovers.

“It’ll pass, I think,” Saif continued. His face was half lit by the setting sun, evening reds and oranges, half by the clash above. Purples and occasional flashes of yellowish gold. Inside the caverns of eye sockets, deep set by weariness, glowed the faint hint of orange lights. “Once he dies.”

Dovar’s head snapped over, staring at Saif. “Dies?” his voice was rougher than he’d liked.

Saif nodded. “That’s right, you knew him. It is inevitable, is it not? You can see as much as I can.”

Dovar cleared his throat. “After the insects joined the fight-“

“Yes, they took Saleema aback, I agree, but she’s not without answers. And she’s had nothing but time to build them up.”

Dovar followed Saif’s gaze skyward to the blurred images of the fight. Purple flared brightly, and the entire screaming swarm of grasshoppers vanished. One second. She flashed towards Ranvir; they exchanged blows. Two seconds. She clipped him, sending him reeling back. Three seconds. Her pursuit was interrupted by a shower of purple sparks, like a thousand clashes of a violet metal. Whatever she had been working on was torn away.

“Then why isn’t she using them?” Dovar asked.

“My best guess,” Saif said. “After seeing her fight so many times.” The weight behind that single word spoke of an existence without end, without peace. “She doesn’t know where they are anymore? Or at least, where she’s left them.”

Dovar frowned. Saif, bearded and with the orange eyes of a bastard, usually looked to be in his mid-thirties. The exhaustion added years to visage currently, but he was supposedly the eldest of the triplet masters. Among the Ankirians, at least.

Saif stroked his beard. Though the pose seemed pensive, there was something soothing in the motion. Dovar was almost willing to disregard the jitter in his fingers as cold. Almost.

“For now, Ranvir has the upper-hand, but you’ve seen more of this fight than I have. Is he slowing down?”

Dovar looked up, seeing more with his tether-sense than his physical eyes. It was tough to say, at least for him. Among the others, Grevor had the sharpest senses. Not that he thought much good could come from exploring the idea further.

“Saleema won’t slow down. Not for many days, yet. This thing that Ranvir summoned,” Saif waved in half-disgust, half-confusion. “It’s an entity not wholly separate from Ranvir, but not fully connected, either. It will tire as well, I am sure.”

That might be the case, but also not. He knew next to nothing about the insects. There was a connected conscious through them, maybe that could tire. It would be an exhaustion like over-exerting the spirit. Dovar hoped that was not the case. That instead, they were many parts working together to simulate a whole.

“But perhaps not. Most fights don’t continue until one party is too exhausted to continue the struggle. Usually, they end with a decisive thrust.” Saif seemed to have controlled himself. His eyes were a hint brighter and the aura of smoke surrounding him, thicker. “Have you felt the impact of Ranvir’s attacks? I would hardly call them misses.”

Dovar snorted. Tethered fought with their mana. He hadn’t even been taught to fight with his tether-sense until he began at Ranvir’s school. Sure, he had some practice, but Elusria was focused on controlling mana, not the spirit. Some blows could probably have put an end to a triplet master.

Dovar let his spirit swing past Saif as he wound it back. Then again, perhaps not. Certainly, Ranvir’s attacks would be telling blows, but settling the fight in one go? Perhaps that was a wish on Dovar’s part.

“Why did you come up here?” Dovar finally asked.

“You seemed shaken.”

“You could tell that from the ground?”

“I could tell that from inside the palace. Your spirit isn’t as subtle as the half-blood, nor as well wielded as Grev.”

Dovar’s scowled. “And what, you’re not going to compare me to Esmund as well?”

“I don’t have a recent image of him to weigh against you,” Saif said, his face dried up some, regaining the exhausted mien. “You were shaken. Worried. You believed in him.”

“I still do.”

“Are you telling me?”

Dovar settled his teeth before they could lock. He relaxed his fingers. Keep calm, don’t let him get to you.

“Do you think he would fight harder if she killed someone?”

Dovar’s blood ran cold. “No. Ranvir has too much to lose already.”

“It would have no effect at all?”

“I’m not sure the effect would make him fight harder, that’s all.”

“Why not?”

“You’re actually considering it?” Dovar asked in disbelief. He drifted away, turning to look at Saif. “Do you honestly believe it would benefit the fight?”

Saif shook his head. “I believe it is an avenue worth exploring.” Dovar suddenly realized what made his features so pronounced and aged. It wasn’t exhaustion, it was despair. “If there’s a chance it could work, then I would consider it. I can’t do it.” Saif waved at the dome and beyond, the fight had momentarily meandered out of view. “I can’t get up there, fight her, and kill her. We’ve tried. A score times. More.”

Dovar narrowed his eyes at Saif, but felt something within himself settle. “Have faith, Saif. Ranvir will make it through this. Even whatever Saleema has planned next.”

Violet stars burst into light and noise on the horizon. Mana and power to disturb even Dovar’s distant senses. Throughout the city, tether-senses recoiled, snatched back as the outburst seemed to set fire to their minds.

Loce worked to fight through, but could not overcome the density of mana. Dovar sensed Ranvir’s confusion clearly. His tether-sense ripped across the area, but Dovar could feel the weight of Saleema’s mana bogging his sense down. Time passed, and the technique faded, torn apart by master and swarm both.

“Where did she go?” Dovar asked, just as a pillar of space mana struck the ground. Bright as a lantern, but thicker and taller than the Master’s Tower at the academy. Another pillar struck down opposite the first, and Saleema appeared once more. Another three pillars slammed forward. “What is she doing?”

“Counter-acting,” Saif’s voice was drained of life.

Dovar concentrated on the nearest pillar, guarding his eyes against the light. It gave off only a single significant feeling. Inviolable. Loce’s progress was painfully slow, to the point it could not meaningfully attack more than three at a time.

Something moved through the pillar. Dark and vast, it vanished into the bottom, reappearing at the top. Falling faster and faster. It strained Dovar’s senses to pick up the hint of the space behind the pillar. A slight compression. Another person had floated up to examine the fight closer.

Saleema burned with power as she fought with Ranvir. She seemed afire with mana to Dovar. It hurt to watch her. How could one person hold this much power? Yet she didn’t fight as hard as before. Not sloppy, but she added less mana than previously. The forms within the pillars were a blur now.

They whipped by fast enough that he could hear the slight ‘whoosh’ of air in the passage. He could hear it through more than a meter of ice. Then Loce broke the first pillar and the whole thing vanished.

Saleema created a new opening beside Ranvir. A boulder, tall as a man and twice as thick, glistening with space mana, struck him down. The impact drove him out of sight, though Dovar could see the trees tilting and toppling around the collision site. Another pillar burst into light, a heavy silhouette falling through it.

The blood had drained from Dovar’s face as he clutched at his coat. You can do it, Ranvir.