Weight of Worlds

Ranvir woke to someone screaming in the distance. He shot upright in his bed, legs already dropping to the floor, causing his wounded one to scream in protest as flares of red pain cut through until he felt it in his gut.

“What was that?” Ranvir asked. The cream that had been applied to his face had dried and was crumbling off his cheeks, and his eyes were throbbing as if they’d swollen with blood and were ready to burst.

There was a flash of light so bright it pierced through layers of bandage and both of Ranvir’s closed eyelids. Ranvir let out a squeal and fell down from his bed, the others cursing and swearing as they too fell.

Getting to his knees, Ranvir carefully crawled to his dresser as he heard the others opening theirs. Digging through it, he pulled out his uniform coat and a pair of pants. Slipping the coat on was easy, even blind and kneeling. Getting his pants on over his bandages was more difficult. And it hurt like a bitch on top of that.

Someone’s hands grabbed him and helped get the pants on.

“Boots.” Sansir called and soon Ranvir was lacing one side up, while his friend was getting the other. Then he was poked in the side with his crutch and he got to his foot.

“What’s going on?” Ranvir asked, keeping his voice quiet. There was a lot of activity going on outside of their lounge, but it sounded like it was emptying fast.

“An attack of some kind.” Grev said.

“Is that a sword?” Es’ voice shook.

“Yes.” Grev replied, followed by the sound of a blade sliding against leather. It didn’t last long, so Ranvir assumed he must’ve been checking the movement against the scabbard. “Sansir, grab the shield.” Grev continued. “We don’t know what’s going on, but we’re going to assume we need to be armed and ready.”

Ranvir frowned, worrying at his lip.

“Maybe we should wait here.” Es said. He’d made an effort to sound more certain, Ranvir could tell. “With Ranvir’s… condition, don’t you think it’s a bad idea to go out there?”

“We’re on what amounts to the third floor.” Sansir said. “We have one way out, and very little room to maneuver. We might be able to barricade ourselves inside the room using our beds. But if they’ve brought the manpower to handle the teachers, they can take down a door.”

“What do you think it is?”

Ranvir took in a deep breath. “There’re really only a few things it could be. Either we’re being invaded by an enemy force. If that’s the case, it’s likely either Ankiria, or one of a smaller nation like Vagenvar. If it’s Ankiria we should lie down and surrender to the first tethered we meet and hope they don’t kill us outright. If it’s Vagenvar they’re here to kill us and our best bet is to wait until support can arrive and kill them.”

“Couldn’t it be bandits?” Esmund asked.

“What kind of bandits would attack the academy? A significant portion of our country’s military might have residence in this complex.” Sansir replied.

“And there’s an outside chance that it’s not tethered that’s attacking us.” Ranvir said, his words quiet and grim. “With the exception of that flash of light, I’ve seen or heard nothing to suggest the masters are moving out in force. I don’t know about you, but I doubt a Master fights quietly.”

“Fuck me.” Sansir cursed. “We’ve got to get out of here.” Ranvir heard the door open and reached out for someone to grab his forearm. Someone did, probably Esmund, as the others had their hands full.

“What?” Esmund asked, but Ranvir could tell his mind was already there. He just didn’t want to admit it.

“The flesh-torn are attacking.” Ranvir rocked on his crutch and they started moving.

They were maneuvering through the quiet halls of the upper floors, looking for an alternative exit to the ground. The grand staircases were easy to find and easy to use, which translated to big and very noticeable. Going down those, they could easily be surrounded by enemies.

“Here.” Grev said, relief evident in his voice. Esmund held the door open for Ranvir as he started his way down, cursing the entire way.

The crutch was heaven-sent gift from the Goddess herself when he had to make his way around, but there was no quiet way for him to go downstairs, not really. He could mitigate the noise on the halls somewhat by tapping the wood against the carpet. But on the stairs, he had to make sure it was placed properly. If he didn’t, it could slip and he would then make a lot more noise. That meant he had to fumble with the wooden tool, accidentally hitting both wall and stone staircase.

Thankfully, he didn’t need any guidance getting down the stairs, due to how narrow it was. He could hold one hand against the opposite wall for all the guidance he needed.

It took a lot longer to make it down the spiraling stone steps. Partly because of Ranvir, but mostly because of the noises. There was a lot of noise coming up the stairs each time they feared they’d been discovered and froze.

“The door’s open.” Grev whispered, once he reached the bottom of the stairs. He was traveling in front, since he had their only proper weapon as Sansir didn’t just have a whole war axe lying around, and he could use his ability like a directional lantern.

Footsteps.

They all froze, Ranvir half supporting himself against his crutch, as he’d been about to take a step down.

They continued. The wood of the sole tapping against the floor as they got closer. Ranvir held his breath. He didn’t know how close Grev had been to the door, but he might be discovered.

The footsteps went past. For a long moment, none of them dared breathe. Then they all let out sighs of relief and Ranvir’s crutch slipped. The wooden support rocked down to the next step, tapping loudly against the stone.

Quiet.

All breaths froze in their lungs as they listened to the slight echo of the tap of wood against stone. Maybe they didn’t hear it. Maybe they were already too far gone.

Footsteps returned.

“Fuck.” Grev cursed. There was a cry of surprise and sound of metal sliding against leather as the blond warrior drew his sword. Ranvir couldn’t follow the action without his eyes, but he could at least do something to help Grev.

“Esmund, eyes on the stairs, no one comes down without us knowing it. And get off to the side, let Sansir pass.” Ranvir said in a firm voice as he stepped to the side. He surprised himself a little with how calm he sounded.

Sansir rushed down the stairs, causing a crash, and someone cried out in pain. Metal clattered to the stone floor, ringing out loudly against the walls of the staircase. Ranvir nervously swallowed a nauseous green rising in bubbles within him.

There was a sheer crash and someone groaned pain along with rapid footsteps. Ranvir’s breath caught

“He’s getting away!” Grev cried out. “Hit him with ice.”

“I don’t have the time. I’ll grab his sword. You check the cart, there might be something useful.” Sansir commanded.

“It’s all clear from here.” Es said quietly, next to Ranvir who let out the air he’d been holding in a long breath.

“Come on down. They’ll know we’re here soon enough.” Sansir said.

Ranvir let out a sharp breath. He couldn’t see what was going on, but he could feel his heart doing its best imitation of a bludgeoning weapon. “What happened?” He asked, as he made it the last of the way down.

“I would’ve had him, if he hadn’t fled.” Grev sounded perturbed. “I know I’m a better fighter than he was, but…”

Ranvir reached out his direction, feeling for his shoulder or arm. He found his bicep and squeezed. “You did well, and Sansir was there to support you.”

“Thanks.” Grev replied, but he sounded frustrated.

“Anything in the cart?” Sansir asked, from further down the hall.

“Just cutlery. Forks, spoons, butter knives, and bowls.” Grev replied with a rattle of metal against metal.

“Grab me a fork.” Ranvir said, holding out a hand and embracing the pressure. Part of him wanted to say butter knife, but for stabbing a fork might work just as well, if not better.

They wandered through the halls of the ground floor, searching for an exit that didn’t lead straight into the entrance hall. It took them nearly fifteen minutes to find one, but they managed without running into anymore enemies.

Ranvir heard the door open and Grev paused for a moment, “Firelight.” He murmured. Then Es was guiding Ranvir out.

“Firelight?” Ranvir asked. “What do you mean?”

“I think it’s from the area in front of the Masters’ Tower.” Grev replied. “Which is the opposite side of the building, but the shadows are definitely cast by firelight, probably a big bonfire.”

Ranvir decided to not to question it, but instead moved on. “Can you describe them? The one you fought?” Ranvir asked, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. He thought maybe he caught a hint of wood smoke, but he wasn’t sure. The wind was wrong for it, anyway.

“Indistinct gray robes, wrappings covering all of their skin and they wore a gray mask.”

Ranvir’s heart skipped a beat. That didn’t sound anything like another nation’s uniform, or even that of a bandit, not even a very ill bandit. It did match the flesh-torn, however. They’d fought a flesh-torn. Which meant they had come to Elusria. Ranvir was glad he’d embraced the pressure. He’d heard it took more Ralith to cut off a tethered already wielding their power. That said, even a single flesh-torn wasn’t enough to tear away even their meager power.

“What’s the goal?” Sansir asked. “Get away, run as far as we can?”

Before the others could even contemplate an answer, Esmund spoke up. “We’re going to get Kirs, first.”