Becoming One

Avii gagged as the jagged nails dug into his throat, tearing flesh and pouring blood into his armour. His guard had been down. He had allowed the man close, as though he were a friend or a family member lost to time and back from the dead. But he wasn’t. Jonas was a stranger and, in that moment, he wanted Avii dead.

Even with Jonas’s vitality somewhat returned and the power of his Kovika MULE to support him, the man didn’t have the strength to lift Avii’s heavy armour. But that didn’t stop him from trying. He fought with every ounce of his being to rend Avii’s head from his shoulders. And, as his bony fingers gripped tightly, constricting like a noose around the exposed neck, a powerful hatred burned in his glare. A hate far beyond anything Avii had seen in the familiar stares in his Estarian and Kovik masters.

It was the loathsome look of a man who had lost everything to someone. To something. And with their dying breath, in the final scene of the act of their life, they would exit the mortal realm avenged.

“D-don’t.” Avii choked on his words as the shock finally left his body and adrenaline took over.

Reaching up, he took Jonas’s hands and pried them away with ease. With a deep breath, Avii gasped sharply, pulling air through his bruised throat as he took a retreating step.

“Jonas,” He wheezed, looking up at the man. “I’m not respons—”

A wooden beam that had been used to hold aloft one of the sunken tents connected with Avii’s shoulder, hitting with enough force to knock him off his feet. Splinters cascaded from the armour like sparks in the moment a smith’s hammer struck hot iron. They rained down over Avii as he bounced to the ground, landing on his back and smashing his head to packed earth.

The blow had struck his already bruised shoulder, and while he didn’t think it dislocated again, it seared with pain, nonetheless. Not enough to make him cry out in agony but plenty to shock his body back into focus. Back to the reality of his situation and, luckily enough, provide him the time necessary to raise his hands to catch the jagged beam that Jonas stabbed down at his face.

The gears that held his arms aloft whined and groaned as the full weight of the assaulter's rage pressed down on the improvised weapon. The runes of the Kovika MULE illuminated the space in a foul purple glow, flaring brighter as Jonas’s murderous intent pushed him over the edge.

“Die!” He cried out, his voice cracking in pain. “Traituh’! Demon! Murderuh’!”

“I didn’t do it!” Avii yelled back, focusing as he pushed back against the assault. “What they told you…it’s a lie!”

That was the moment that Avii felt something in his chest. It wasn’t a twitch of anxiety, or a pang of fear, but the subtle vibration of the arcanzcore. His eyes flashed down to the magical battery as the orange light shifted to red. The suit’s power was almost out and, without spares, he’d soon be fighting this battle on his own.

His arms grew heavy as the magical charge to the runes dwindled, and the spear lowered closer to his face. Watching in horror as the jagged edge approached his eye, he struggled against the hateful might of Jonas, forcing the splintered weapon down. Through clenched teeth, he felt the wood slice from his cheekbone to his jaw, drawing blood before, with a forceful shove, he pushed the weapon over his shoulder.

The spear stabbed into the ground as Avii rolled to the side. Bringing himself to a knee, he raised an arm to protect the side of his head as, a moment later, the beam cracked against his forearm. With a push of his own innate magic through the arcanzcore, the suit held its ground against the strike. A cloud of splinters once more rained overhead, but this time Avii would use it to his advantage.

With a standing lunge, he thrust his fist forward and struck the chest of the man. But right before landing what would have been a fatal blow, Avii pulled his punch. He didn’t want to kill him. Jonas was a Maldainian after all. One of two. And to kill him would leave Avii truly alone. He needed to reach him, and he couldn’t do that if Jonas was dead.

The strike landed, hitting the man square in the sternum and knocking him off his feet. Jonas flew backwards, colliding with the wall before slumping to the floor. Yet again, he was motionless, though this time, merely dazed.

“Jonas, listen,” Avii explained as he attempted to stand to his feet, the arcanzcore beginning to falter. “I didn’t do it! Yes, I was there. Yes, I survived. But it wasn’t me. I was on the surface. The explosion. The light. It came from below. Someone or something below caused it.”

There was a hiss as the arcanzcore’s red glow began to flash in pulses of three and five. Avii, knowing it meant he was seconds away from being trapped in the idle armour, forced enough magic into the suit to stand it upright before tapping the core. In an instant the suit opened, and the spent arcane artifact dropped to the ground, immediately growing dull.

Avii spilled forth, his body tired and weakened from days of hauling the cart with little sleep. But he still had enough strength to crawl to Jonas. Still had enough energy to plead his case to the man who was the closest thing left to family.

“Jonas,” Avii begged as he slowly drew closer. “Please. You have to believe me. They want you to think I’m evil because if we were together…if we could both be in armour. No one could stop us. Not the Estarians. Nor the Koviks. Trust me. Please, I beg you, brother. Trust—”

“Shuh’up!” Jonas yelled as he slipped back from his dazed state, lifting his head to meet Avii’s gaze. “I los’ my fathuh’ to the Koviks, but I los’ my mothuh’ and sistuh’ to the blas’! Los’ my ‘ome to the blas’! To yuh damned minuh’s! Why did yuh ‘ave to keep diggin’, man? Why couldn’ yuh be happy with whah’ we ‘ad?! Why did yuh’ need to be—So! Damn! Greedy!”

Avii’s heart dropped as he watched the foreign runes flare a violet hue in the moments before Jonas stumbled back to his feet. The man began his slow march forward, and with each step closer, Avii hardened his heart. He knew now that it was not simply Kovik brainwashing that afflicted his companion. Jonas didn’t simply blame him for the blast because of what he had heard. He blamed the MULES who worked the mines. He blamed Beerk and Jamie. Yannik, Stoz, and Pazzen. He blamed everyone on Crew Seven. Blamed every man and woman that made their living ensuring the future of Maldain. There would be no convincing Jonas that Avii was innocent because he had spent the last thirty years cursing his brothers for the death of his family.

“Jonas…I’m sorry.” Avii whispered as he pushed himself to his feet to meet the man.

“Tell thah’ to my kid sistuh' on the othuh' side, yuh' bastard!”

With a lunge, Jonas tackled Avii back to the ground, knocking his head hard enough against the earth to flash a blinding white light before his eyes. Dazed for but a moment, it gave the vengeful man enough time to position himself overtop Avii’s chest. By the time the dim light of the cavern returned, the flickering glow of smouldering embers fighting for dominance over the purple radiance of Kovik runes, Jonas had begun to strike.

Fist over fist, he struck at Avii’s face, scattering blood and fragments of teeth across the floor. The feeling of his blows growing heavier as his anger swelled did nothing but make Avii wonder if he was the monster that Jonas thought him to be. He wondered if he and the men and women of the mining guild had been the cause for the destruction. If the fact that he survived that day was an ill omen and it had in some way been his fault. If something he had taken from the cavern had been the reason the mountain went up. And then he wondered if after thirty years of suffering, it was finally his time to pass the torch to someone else to be the last Maldainian.

Avii’s body went limp as he accepted his fate. He was tired and ready. There was no reason to keep living as the last Maldainian, because now there was another. And if he was to die, he would rather it be by the hands of his kin than at the whim of a foreign master. He would rather die in a mine dug from the dirt of his homeland than on distant soil where he would be left for carrion to feast on his corpse.

His fate. This moment. He was okay with it.

“Avii,” Harbinger whispered coldly into the back of his mind. “Live.”

“No.” He coughed between strikes, blood spilling from his mouth. “No more.”

“Yes. You must live.”

“I won’t. Let me die.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“You give me no choice.”

Avii’s hand moved on its own, grabbing for something just beyond his reach. It twitched and stretched, fighting to take hold of an object he couldn’t quite touch. And then, as Jonas leaned to the side, taking up a large stone and hoisting it high enough to be a killing blow, his body shifted just enough for Avii to wiggle himself free.

The scalding coals from a toppled brazier that had found its way into the cavern burned Avii’s hands. But they wouldn’t be there for long as he reached up and forced them into the eyes of Jonas. A shrill shriek echoed out as he dropped the stone to the side, reaching for his face in response.

Taking advantage of the moment, Avii’s body continued to move on its own. He thrust his body up, grabbing hold of Jonas firmly before tumbling across the ground with him. Wrapping his hands over the man’s throat, Avii began to strangle him in much the same way the fight had started. But the Kovik mule fought past the discomfort, continuing the tumble until he was on top once more.

With no sight of his own, Jonas reached his hands down to Avii’s face. He traced jawline and cheekbone until reaching his goal. Then, with fingers holding to the back of Avii’s ears for leverage, he drove his jagged thumbs into the mule’s eyes. The pressure throbbed into the back of his mind as he could feel sharpened nails pushing past the eyelids and digging deeper into his skull.

But even then, Avii was still not in control of his body, and Harbinger would give the suicidal mule no choice in his actions. So, using both hands, Avii grabbed at a single wrist and slipped it from his eye socket. In an instant, the pressure gave way, and the remaining thumb drove deep into his skull, skewering the other eye.

Jonas, surprised by the sudden turn of events, tumbled to the side, his hand locked in place by the bloody wound. Before he could react to finish the job, the Avii’s hand had found the killing stone. With a single hand, he swung it, finding one of the bolts still fitted to Jonas’s head. Like a hammer to a nail, the metal piece disappeared, and Jonas collapsed to the ground.

In an instant, Avii’s body returned to him. Dropping the stone, sorrow immediately filled his chest as, with a bellowing scream, he cried out. Again and again, he cried out. Yelling until the air left his lungs completely.

It was not because of his broken jaw or shattered teeth. Not because of missing an eye or aching body. But because he was yet again alone.