Book 8: Chapter 8: Fighting Spirit

Book 8: Chapter 8: Fighting Spirit

Darren grinned with glee as his quarterstaff impacted the mudman’s stiff, clay-like flesh. It wasn’t the impact of hardwood against clay—that was nothing special. It was the discharge of crackling red electricity that coursed through the little creature, sparking out of its eyeholes and sending steam into the air, that did the real damage. The mudman collapsed, utterly devoid of the animating force that had driven it up to that point. Edeya’s frosty spear was equally effective, and though they both had to reapply the damage-boosting effects to their weapons every few hits, they were making short work of the swarm of little creatures as they emerged from the brackish, muddy water.

He'd learned the spell, just as Edeya had predicted, using her spell pattern. When he’d completed it in his pathways, the System had awarded him a boost of Energy and a congratulatory message, informing him that he’d unlocked a spell called Shocking Arms at the “basic” level. At first, Darren had thought he’d created a spell that would only affect his “arms,” but Edeya had quickly corrected his interpretation—by arms, the System meant weapons.

With his far more effective staff, they’d cleared another two chambers of frogmen, and now they were exploring a new area and battling their second wave of “mudmen,” as Darren had creatively named the four-foot-tall, bipedal people who seemed to be entirely constructed of animated mud and clay. He whipped his staff around, pounding another mudman on top of the head, allowing the volatile lightning housed in the weapon to do its work.

He’d already gained two more levels, and though he hadn’t allocated any stat points in strength or agility, he felt he was far more competent already, probably because the System had awarded him with “basic” staff mastery. That had been an experience that he’d never forget—it felt like warm liquid coursing over the contours of his brain as sudden understanding and weird, phantom memories filled his consciousness.

Out of nowhere, he realized he understood how to hold the staff properly, how to position his feet, and what muscles to tense when he blocked or swung the weapon. He knew about different guard positions, different attacks, how to follow through, and how to recover from overextension. He could, quite literally, fill a book with all the things he suddenly knew.

He laughed as he zapped another mudman and then recast Shocking Arms, recharging the staff as he whirled to check on Edeya. She was standing over a mound of mud and clay, grinning back at him. “Nice one, Edeya!”

“Dare! I think you killed more than me that time!” she crowed, scanning the wide, low-ceilinged cave for further threats. The only thing of note that Darren could see was a low, muddy passage on the far side leading into darkness. “I think we’re done with that fight; here comes the Energy.” He followed her gaze, saw the golden motes forming around the piles of mud, and braced himself. A few minutes later, as they both shook off their euphoria, he read the System messages:

***Congratulations! You have achieved level 5 base human. You have 5 attribute points to allocate.***

“Level!” he said, grinning at his partner. She nodded, smiling, her face flushed with the rush of Energy.

“Me too, Dare,” she said with a happy trill in her voice. “One more level, and I'll get my Class back.”

“You’re nine?”

“Yep!” She glanced at the dark tunnel and then back at him. “Take a break? Or keep going? Maybe there’s a boss nearby.”

“Let me spend my attribute points, then I’m ready.” Darren quickly pulled up his status page and put all five of his points into will—the second time he’d done so. He looked at his page with pride:

Status

Name:

Darren Whitehorse

Race:

Human - Base 1

Class:

-

Level:

5

Core:

Wildarc Class - Base 1

Energy Affinity:

Lightning 8, Chaos 7.4, Unattuned 6.1

Energy:

113/113

Strength:

6

Vitality:

17

Dexterity:

5

Agility:

5

Intelligence:

9

Will:

“That’s the spirit, Dare!” Edeya grinned fiercely. “Which one do you want to take? I think the big mudman is a healer.”

“So,” Darren licked his lips, thinking. “So, I think you should kill the healer. We should take him out fast! I’ll try to keep the big muddy skeleton busy.”

Edeya squinted her eyes, clearly playing the fight out in her head, before nodding. “Good plan. I’ll try to sneak close to hit him before he sees us. I’ll go right, you go left. If the skeleton sees you, try to get noisy so the big guy looks your way, too.”

“So I’m the bait?” Darren chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like a good plan!”

“Okay, let’s do this!” Edeya gripped her spear and crept back to the opening. She gave Darren one more look, confirming his readiness, and then she slipped into the cavern, hugging the right wall. Darren stepped in, moving to the left. There wasn’t much to hide him in the room, not even any shadows, thanks to the bright fire, but he still crept low, moving slowly, hoping that if he didn’t make any sudden movement, he might get close before they noticed him.

Somehow, Edeya didn’t suffer the same problem; even though nothing was between her and the fire pit, she seemed to find shadows to slink through along the base of the wall. Seeing that, Darren realized her idea was perfect; him going the opposite direction would give her the ideal opportunity to pounce once the bosses noticed him. He’d only covered about ten yards before they did, or more accurately, before the mud skeleton did.

It lifted its bone staff and whirled to face him, eyes like candle flames flickering from the dark depressions under its brow. It warbled a weird, coughing curse, and the ground under Darren’s feet instantly lost its firmness; he felt his feet sinking into cold mud as tendrils of ropy slime began to wrap around his ankles. “Oof!” he cried as he nearly fell onto his face, which likely would have sealed his fate. He caught himself on his staff, though, and then lifted it to swipe down at the gross, black, muddy tendrils.

If his magical electricity behaved like natural electricity, he would surely have electrocuted himself as the red sparks zapped into the tentacles wrapping around his ankles. Fortunately, just as he could grip the staff without discomfort, the electricity washed over him without any ill effect. As the tentacles of slimy mud burst apart, he jammed the butt of his staff into the soft ground and, using it for balance, yanked his feet free, one at a time, clambering onto firmer clay. He regained his footing just in time to receive a wicked, side-swiping blow from the mud skeleton’s ivory staff.

The length of hard, polished bone caught him in the shoulder, and as a testament to the monster’s strength, it knocked him off his feet and sent him sprawling. He slid sideways onto the semi-dry clay, thankfully not into the liquid section he’d just escaped. Darren could hear the monster begin to utter another mumbled spell, and he desperately scrambled to his hands and knees, favoring his numb left arm.

He glanced to the other side of the cavern where he'd last seen Edeya, but he didn’t catch sight of her. Then he felt the ground loosen under his hands and, in a panic, drove forward with his feet. He exploded like back in high school when he’d practiced football drills, trying to please his dad by signing up for a sport he’d had no interest in. Still, the instinct was in him, and maybe he had his old, sadistic coach to thank. He caught the skeleton in its midriff with his right shoulder and, despite their size difference, knocked it sprawling.

Darren fell with the boss, getting tangled in its mud-covered bony legs, but he’d kept his grip on his staff. He thrashed the length of lightning-charged wood left and right, batting away the muddy skeleton’s grasping hands and thrilling at the sight of sparks dancing along those bones. He fought like a madman, driving forward grimly as he repeatedly battered the monster with his staff. Even when the enchantment faded, and no more electricity aided his blows, the staff delivered noticeable damage, blasting mud away and cracking bones.

Darren couldn't believe it when he knelt in a pile of broken bones and dried-up clay. He’d won! He’d killed a boss! Somewhere in his frenzied, half-startled mind, Darren thanked Victor for the enchanted weapon. The sound of high-pitched grunts and repeated thunk sounds of something sharp impacting something wet startled him, and he looked toward the fire where the other boss had been.

He laughed and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Edeya standing upon its enormous torso, repeatedly jamming her spear in and out of the soft, muddy clay. Each blow sent tendrils of frost into the monster’s body, and each time she drew the spear out and jabbed it in again, hunks of frozen clay broke off the boss’s body. “I think it’s dead!” he called after he’d gathered his breath.

“Better be! I’ve stabbed it twenty times!” she growled.

Darren stood up, wincing and rubbing his sore shoulder. He saw the ivory staff buried in the bones and mud and picked it up before walking over to Edeya, a staff in each hand. “Did that guy even get an attack off?”

“He was about to blast you with something when I buried my spear in his back.” She breathed heavily, leaning on her spear, still jutting out of the muddy corpse. “Nice job, by the way, Dare!”

“You too, Dey,” he’d never used the nickname before the dungeon, but with her calling him “Dare” constantly, he’d decided it was fair game. She smiled and gave him an appraising look.

“Seems like you made a real mess of yourself. Are you hurt?”

“Just my shoulder. That guy was strong!”

“Need a healing potion?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’re about to get some Energy.” Darren gestured with the staff in his left hand to the glowing motes of bright gold Energy gathering on the mound of mud.

“Whew! Thank the Roots! I was afraid this guy wasn’t really dead. That’s why I kept stabbing him.” She sat down on the clay of the monster’s corpse and then slid down to stand before Darren. “Get ready; I think it’s a lot.” She wasn’t wrong. A moment later, a torrent of Energy, much larger than the ones Darren had felt before, surged into him, and he was lost in the euphoric bliss of it.

When he came back to himself, he was sitting on his butt before the corpse and the bonfire, and his shoulder pain was completely gone. Blinking, he squinted at the System message:

***Congratulations! You have achieved level 6 base human. You have 5 attribute points to allocate.***

“Another level,” he said, looking around, wondering if Edeya got one too. He saw her sitting a few feet away, staring into space.

“Me too,” she muttered, clearly very distracted.

“New options?” he pressed.

“Oh, Roots, Darren! It’s amazing! I have two epic choices and three advanced!”

#

Victor lost track of the hours as he sat there holding Lam’s hand, gently encouraging her, constantly sending a thin tendril of Energy into her through that connection. Dar never told him to start doing so, but he never told him to stop. If it was cheating, he didn’t care; he’d do anything he could to ensure Lam’s spirit came through. Dar hadn’t spoken in a long time, and Victor noticed he didn’t always hold Lam’s hand. Sometimes, he’d let it drop, and sometimes, he’d pick it up, and Victor wondered what the master could see that told him when it was time to do so.

After he began to think it would never end, Dar surprised him when he cleared his throat, making a sound like gravel sliding down a concrete embankment, and rumbled, “She’s nearly through, Victor. This is a good time to learn. Just as you gaze upon your own aura, spread your inner eye’s awareness and watch her break through. Do it now!”

Victor felt the urgency in the command, and he immediately turned his gaze inward. Then, he expanded his awareness from his Core, seeing his pathways and his dark, roiling aura. He stretched his awareness further still, and then he saw what Dar meant. Could he have been watching this the whole time? He silently cursed the stoic Spirit Master for not telling him sooner.

From his inner eye’s vantage, he could see his Core, his aura around it, and then, beside him, the wall of his mentor’s aura, impossible to focus upon. However, between that deathly barrier and his own aura, he saw a split in the darkness, a breach between this world and that of the Spirit Plane, and when he peered closely at it, he could catch glimpses of Lam’s spirit as it fought to claw through that aperture. “Come on, Lam!” he urged, not yelling but whispering forcefully. “Come on! You’re almost there. Fight for it!”

He saw her face, different than when he’d stood with her naked, determined spirit on the Spirit Plane and different from her physical self. She had bright, determined eyes, her brows drawn down in a sharp V, and teeth bared in a grimace. There was something primal and visceral about her. She pulled and tugged, squeezing first one shoulder, then another through the rip, and Victor couldn’t help comparing the imagery to that of a birth, though Lam’s spirit was clawing her way out; there was no midwife there to deliver her.

Suddenly, it was over; she’d overcome whatever resistance held her back, and she streaked like a ghostly light out of the aperture. As the glow of her spirit faded, Victor assumed she’d made it back into her body, so he turned his attention away from his inner eye and looked upon her still form with his physical eyes. He squeezed her hand and felt an answering twitch. There was a warmth in her flesh that hadn’t been present before. “She made it,” he breathed.

“Aye, lad. She did, indeed, no small thanks to you. I believe you profoundly touched her spirit; there will be lasting effects.” Dar’s hand clapped his shoulder and gave it a comradely squeeze. “You’re a loyal, big-hearted friend, and she’s lucky to have you.”

“What do you mean?” Victor asked, looking into the giant’s blazing white-hot eyes. “I mean about lasting effects?”

“I think you altered her affinities. Her Core. Can’t you see it? Can’t you feel it? I believe a new Spirit Caster was born this day.”