Weight of Worlds

Ranvir couldn’t help his smile. Latresekt’s spawn, as yet without a name, was a greater boon than he could’ve ever imagined. The spirit rode second within his spirit and Ranvir’s mood alighted with the sun. The horizon’s break shattered the hold night had on the world and the hold Saleema had on him.

The spirit, more deeply integrated within his soul than Latresekt ever had been, still made occasional missteps. Any flaw became easily forgivable with the space it bought him every time it succeeded. When his defense came out a little faster, the protection a little stronger, he was free to go on the offensive.

Seeing the spawn work, understanding the effect it achieved, Ranvir extrapolated further. Applying those same principles to Saleema’s techniques.

The warp sword slashed overhead, yet Ranvir was already rising into a devastating Dune Blow. Sand blasted her into the frozen dome over the capital, the impact ringing out like a gong. Rime and snow bounced across the frozen surface before she righted herself.

To their right, an impact rocked the ground. Trees rocking in their roots, dust blowing away from the boulder buried in the dirt. One third of Loce’s swarm slipped back to surround him as the last sparks of Saleema’s spire faded into the air.

Spreading his arms wide, Ranvir approached on placid storm winds. Saleema’s glowering purple eyes burned holes into him as she rose on a platform of her own. Her spirit quivered, her presence flickering all throughout her Wings. The Discipline encompassing most of the city at this point.

I’ll need to put some space away from the capital. Ranvir decided. Another impact shook the ground as another third of Loce joined them, shortly followed by a last strike. The swarm rose to hover above them as Ranvir reached talking distance. “Are you afraid, Saleema? Do you understand what is happening?”

She sneered at him, but turned away before they could stare each other down.

“Are you searching for escape?” He laughed. “Is it fear? That slow creep working its way down your spine? The chill in your blood? You can’t run from me, Saleema.”

She sneered at him. “Afraid of an overblown puppy, riding the back of a…” she paused, searching for words. “Parasite? I’ll grind you into the dust, crush you underfoot like an overgrown dustrunner.” She stamped her foot for emphasized.

A locust landed on Ranvir’s outstretched hand, longer than his finger and thick around as three of them. It rubbed its legs together to the whirring shriek of its people, audible even through the snow and winds. Then the sound was amplified through the rest, swarming overhead.

“Some bugs don’t crush so easy.”

Ranvir struck again, driving her away from the city. At first, she attempted to fight. Creating new pillars, yet the towers were instantly swarmed by Loce, guided by Ranvir’s improved understanding. The spatial structure employed began crumbling in moments.

She slashed and fought, whipping her blade in a deadly whirlwind against him, but Bastion moved with a life of its own. Without space mana, the shield could not stop the warp mana, so it reached for her arms. Halting her blows before they could gather momentum.

And Ranvir pummeled her. Enhancing his physique with Sandstorm Vortex, he struck with against body and soul. Collected as she was, her spirit quivered underneath the onslaught. The towers crumbled as her spatial-control faltered. It was almost pathetic that he’d fought so hard against her.

She crumbled before him. Her eyes grew wider, her mana more intense, yet her control softened. Sloppy attacks he could easily divert. He witnessed her fall apart before his eyes.

“Can’t handle a little pressure?” he asked, lowering the output of his Vortex, giving her some room to breathe. He slammed blows into her stomach, following up with uppercuts to the jaw and a kick that crashed her into the ground. Following her down with a Dune Blow, sand trailed behind him as Bastion momentarily thinned.

The synergistic effect still floored him, the raw power of available to him and the immediate return of his defenses. Grains exploded on impact, crushing her underneath. Ranvir stepped back, Bastion already protecting him again.

He felt the sheer mental effort of Saleema underneath her burial mound. A slight flex of space, but nothing powerful. West of the forest, the plains looked as if a desert storm had traveled through. The mixture of snow and sand crunching oddly underneath his feet as he gave her some distance.

He was alive with power, alive with strength, alive with jubilation. She’d failed. Unable to kill him in time. Her power had fallen short, and he had not. Despite her age, despite her training, despite her lineage, she was no match for him.

She burrowed out from underneath the sandy grains, her hands appearing first. So she hid the sword. Ranvir strode closer as she dug herself free. There was a hint of exhaustion in her spirit, a picture painted across the broken fragments of her mind.

Pushing onto her hands and knees, she glowered up at him. His boot, sanded, raw and worn, took her arm out from under her.

“Do you feel it now?” he asked. “Does it gall you to be undermined? Do you fear the irrelevance?”

She spat a clot of blood on the sand and snow. “You’ve gone mad.”

Ranvir threw her by the hair, sending her rolling up against a small outcropping of rock. His blood pounded through him, he felt as if a fever was tearing through him. His knuckles itched, his breath came quickly, and he could see the world clearly. The exhausted pull of her spirit as she slumped her head, avoiding looking at him.

“Look at me.” A single spear wrought from sand struck her, shooting her head back into the stone. She turned red-rimmed eyes on him. Victory screamed through him, banners of white and blue and yellow. Streamers, cloth-like, and glowing, whipping in the strong wind that rose through him.

Her spirit flashed into sudden power. Saleema threw herself into the sky, fast enough to crack the air. Not fast enough to escape him, however. Ranvir raced after her. She opened a pocket-space. With an effort of will, he aborted the process. Again she tried, and again he dispensed with it. Portals, winding space into twists to hide her form, pocket-spaces, all attempts to disappear.

“You cannot run from me, Saleema!” He cried, pulling her out of a twist in the air. Swinging her by the ankle, he slammed her into a wall created by Loce. She gasped, spit twisting away in the wind, but she kicked free and attempted another escape. Tries upon tries. Dozens, then scores. But she couldn’t run fast enough, she couldn’t run fast enough.

Laughter bubbled out of Ranvir as he shut down her every escape, her every desperate flight, her every frightened attempt at freedom.

Kirs stood in her tower looking out the window. The fight had migrated. She’d awoken to someone slamming into the dome. It should’ve been Ranvir, but something had changed about him. It was like he fought alongside a shield wall. She struggled to stretch her soul-sight even that far and only that with ritual meditation.

Their fight moved on, west of the city, yet not so far as they’d been before. The occasional clash was still visible in the sky. It seemed, somehow, that Ranvir had turned the fight around.

Below her in the courtyard, fighters had gathered in case Saleema had been returning to the dome on her own. From this distance, most details were lost to her. However, she recognized Sansir’s tall and bald form, which made the blond man next to him Grevor. Dovar, who stood as high as Sansir, had returned to the city and joined them. There were others, Ayvir, Pashar, and Amalia, but she didn’t know them as well.

With the fight this close to the city, they’d keep a force at the ready. Even now, tethered were training in coordinated soul attacks.

She sighed and leaned against the windowsill. The tower was cold and dark and lonely at this time of day.

“Why don’t you go down there?”

It felt all the lonelier for Zubair’s presence. “I can’t, got work to do.”

Zubair snorted. “You’re afraid you’ll hurt them. That’s cute.”

“Hurt them?”

“Like you hurt your boy, Esmund.”

Kirs clutched at the sill but didn’t turn around to regard the cruel triplet master.

“I did some digging, you see. Do you think he ran off? Found someone who could actually provide for him. He came from a big family, right? Expecting something similar for his own home.”

“No!” she whipped around, her eyes burning. “You don’t know anything about him!”

“That makes two of us, it seems.”

Above them, on the roof of the tower, a sharp-edged presence suddenly bloomed. The door slammed open. “Your cruel tongue stretches too far, Zub.” Saif said, orange eyes burning like deep-set coals in his face. The presence above them vanished again. Dust rained past the window sill alongside half a green-copper tile.

Saif strode through the room, stopping next to Kirs at the window. Kirs shuddered and took a step back, allowing him prominence at the window. It seemed the chill in the tower had intensified with his presence.

“Ranvir’s wi—“

“Quiet,” Saif snapped, tension in his neck visible for a moment. “She’s about to begin.”

Ranvir flung Saleema away, a tooth flying off into the early morning. She landed on a platform of hardened space and slowly pushed herself straight. Ranvir grinned. His hands shook with energy and life. His mouth felt dry and throat raw from laughing.

Her spirit felt on the edge, strained to its limit. “And so we finally come to it.”

She smiled a bloody, gap-toothed grin. “We do.” Her Wings pulsed, the Discipline’s very limits growing solid. The flickers of violet sparks. Throughout her control. Twists in space she’d attempted to hide in, portals, and pocket-spaces. Their remnants all burned with power. Scores of them. And as he counted, more opened.

Banners rotted within Ranvir, turning ragged, slimy, and dark. Her spirit strained, not to resist him, but because she was working at the limits of her ability.

Areas compressed, while others stretched.

“Do you feel it? That dread crawl on the back of your neck?” Saleema asked, her smile vicious and red as she flung a handful of pebbles, they cracked the air with speed, disappearing into twists, spaces, and portals, vanishing into a dozen other spaces. Speeding up and slowing down at random.

Ranvir, struggling to track, watched lamely as the first struck him in the chest. He blinked and dodged the second coming for his head. Another swept through his legs, but the remainder struck her barrier.

Again, she flung rocks. Ranvir split his focus to track them. Cold pain bit his thigh, shooting through both his and the spawn’s ability to suppress. He slipped aside immediately, yet still blood trailed from the cut. Saleema, in a lunge, smiled no longer as she drew her sword back to ready for another attack.