Forest of Bones

The soldiers had taken up their position around the sigil, having pulled back the corpse of the Lieutenant and set Avii to work stripping the body of spare arcanzcores and weapons. The sounds of clicking were rapidly approaching from every direction, with more amber eyes appearing by the second. Meanwhile, the hums of the Ostave’s blade began to sound like hundreds of bees as they vibrated, eager for the first blood to be spilled.

As Avii pulled objects from the body, much to the disapproval of the soldiers under Ostave’s command, he listened as the Knight barked his orders. While Serjeant Ragart and Gynour Sebastian were still not yet back from their perimeter sweep, he called out Caster Aindes, Priestess Vivat and the company’s Longbowman Pilla into a tight formation.

“Hold your fire until you have a clear shot, Pilla.” He ordered, before swivelling his head back. “Aindes, don’t expend too much mana. We may need you to activate the sigil in the event of—”

“I don’t recommend—” Avii began only to be immediately quieted.

“Silence, mule!” Ostave snapped, turning his ferocious gaze down. “Lest I throw you to the encroaching beasts as a distraction.”

Avii lowered his head, glancing down at the hidden dagger in the Lieutenant’s boot. With an anxious swallowing of his nerves, he slipped a hand over the weapon, withdrawing it from the sheath and sliding it beneath him. Continuing with his looting of the dead, he grunted and pushed with all his might to flip the headless body on its back where he caught sight of the last arcanzcore in place over the sternum.

With a press of his thumb, the sigil atop the arcanzcore illuminated before flashing blue and deactivating. A hiss of air followed as the armour split open, revealing the remainder of the Lieutenant’s jumpsuit and limp body beneath.

“Avii,” Harbinger chilled the back of his mind, causing him to shift his glance back towards the line. “Danger imminent. Arm yourself.”

“They’re pushing,” Avii warned. "Look—"

“Wha—” But Ostave was cut off as the longbowman cried out.

“Threat. Left!”

Avii’s head pivoted in time to watch the archer’s glowing arrow make purchase. Racing forward, an ashen arachnid bigger than any horse and just as fast had made the first move. A squeal of pain echoed out as the arrowhead dug deep into one of the creature’s eyes, detonating a pale green a moment later. As the body collapsed to the ground, its legs curling up under the meaty abdomen in the moments before it was overtaken by another.

“Right! Right!” Ostave cried out, drawing Avii’s attention.

Two large spiders were approaching the man quickly, their bodies illuminated by a red glow as a moment later flames licked at their armoured carapaces. From his corner, Aindes wore a wreath of flames above his head, half a dozen fiery motes flickering like stars in the ancient night sky. Avii watched as they twirled and twisted before, with a flick of his dainty, elven wrist, the caster sent off a pair towards another approaching foe.

A sudden scream from behind drew Avii’s gaze towards the longbowman who had become ensnared in a sticky web. The woman’s face was scarred by the splatter of corrosive silk, its acid coating quickly burning into her cheek as she dropped her bow. Avii watched in horror as she pulled away at the skin, removing the web which only continued to burn through the armour. And as she flailed in a panic, a spider descended from above, its long legs grappling her body.

Instinctively, Avii flinched, wanting to help, but his muscles failed to move. He watched her as she was pulled a foot into the air, followed by a second and third before, with a forceful cleave, Ostave appeared, cutting through the beast's abdomen. Both he and Pilla tumbled to the ground as Aindes’ shooting stars flew overhead, igniting the night with shrieks and flames.

“Vivat!” Ostave cried out, placing his hand to Pilla’s armour. “Healing! We need healing!”

“O-okay!” She cried out, turning to face the wounded longbowman and raising her hands. “Mighty God, hear my prayer, deliver until your dutiful champion your holy light. Purify her wounds and bring comfort to her agony! Holy healing!”

Golden magic like ribbons tangled on the wind flowed forth and took hold of the bleeding woman. Her wounds flared as the acid was nullified and her face quickly scarred over where it had sloughed off.

“Good job, Vivat!”

“T-thank yo—aaaahhhh!”

Avii turned to see a spider had taken its opportunity to approach the priestess from behind. He could see the venomous fangs revealing themselves as the girl struggled to hold back the assault. Again, his body flinched as he thought better of intervening.

“Save her, Avii.” The satin voice of Harbinger whispered in the back of his mind as his hand reached for the dagger between his legs.

“No.” He grumbled under his breath, bartering with the accursed voice. “I die here.”

“Danger detected, Avii. Save her.”

“Gods damn it,” Avii grumbled, his hand trembling as it prepared to act on its own in the moments before lunging into action. "Fine."

Channelling magic into the dagger, the runes activated down the length of the blade. In an instant, the metal began to vibrate, the sound of bees filling the air as a pale blue line marked the razor-sharp edge. Before the fangs could sink into the girl’s neck, he parried the bite, the vibrating strike enough to sever one of the fangs as it knocked the spider backwards.

With a scream, Avii followed through, swinging the dagger up and piercing the armoured thorax as though it were a bag of sand. And, with a single step, he forcefully extended his arm, cutting down the length of the creature’s body, spilling its innards over the battlefield. As he bathed in the neon green ichor, he turned to look at the priestess to confirm she was unharmed.

“T-thank you.” She stammered, meeting his gaze for a moment before her eyes swelled with terror. “Another!”

With a flick of his blade, he held it by the sharpened tip and swung around. Releasing at the extent of his grasp, the dagger flew at an impossible speed while the remaining magic buzzed as it sliced through the air. It impacted the approaching spider between its dozen eyes, burrowing into the skull and dropping it to the ground.

“It seems the mule has a kick,” Ostave remarked from the opposite end of the circle. “Vivat, help the mule into Marx’s armour.”

“Knight Ostave!” She gasped, looking between Avii and the Knight. “Absolutely not! That was the Lieutenant’s armour!”

“And he won’t be using it anymore. If the mule is willing to help, give it the strength to do so. That’s an order.”

Another spider shrieked as the orcish Knight cut it down, spraying more neon ichor into the air. As Avii watched him fight, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the man’s mind at that moment. What terror and anxiety would lead to him making such a foreign decision? The idea of giving a mule Knight’s armour was unheard of, not simply because of the strength it would provide, but also because it was a quiet acknowledgement of his existence as a man and not a beast.

Even amid a dangerous battle, it was easy to see that the soldiers under Ostave’s command disagreed with his judgement. Just a glance towards the previously thankful priestess revealed an uncomfortable struggle with the idea of giving him help with the armour. So, as she begrudgingly moved towards the center of the stone, Avii placed a hand to her shoulder.

“It’s okay.” He spoke, directing her back to her position. “I can handle it myself.”

Avii watched as she shuddered, shaking off his grasp before stepping away. She didn’t say anything to him, instead turning back to her section of the perimeter as though she were a saint turning her gaze away from a blasphemer. Watching her for a moment, Avii gave little thought to the interaction before eventually turning his attention to the corpse.

“More left!” Ostave cried out.

“Right too!” Aindes responded. “Right too! Where the Six Hells are Ragart and Sebastian?”

“Assume them lost!” The Knight continued, swinging his vibrating sword and dismembering an approaching spider. “Aindes, we may have no choice but to retreat through the stone. How long do you need to prepare?”

“Five minutes.”

“Five bloody minutes—?!”

Hunched over the limp body, Avii pulled the corpse free of the suit’s interior. With no time for niceties, he tossed it to the stone and inspected the interior runework of the armour. While not as nice or well-crafted as the MULE he had spent his youth piloting, the fifth-generation armour appeared to be closer than any recent model he had operated.