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[Omen of the Witchblade] Chapter 53 – The Past Is Prologue
🕑 Added 2025-01-07 00:29:50 +0000 UTCThe unearthly shrieking of the damned filled the air. [Bane of Tartarus] expanded, consuming the surprisingly coordinated group of Coppers that slipped into Mel’s [Hidden Mist].
As powerful as Omen was, it was still one of her weaker aspects purely because raising it was so much more difficult. Not only did [Bane of Tartarus] and [Omen Mark] require more mana than her other aspect skills, they required targets.
She could train them on monsters, but the amount of time she could get in with either skill was severely limited compared to [Gaze of the Serpent] or [Hidden Mist]. Both of which allowed her to keep the skills up for prolonged periods of time, granting her greater familiarity and skill.
None of them could compare to Blood, however. Her [Sanguine Coat] was constantly on her shoulders from the moment she woke up each day. Despite the hefty cost, she wouldn’t go anywhere without it.
In a land full of beasts and monsters, it was little more than a morning routine to get the required blood to conjure it.
Mel had come prepared. She wasn’t where the guards thought she was. Not that it would have mattered. She could see through the mist as if it wasn’t even there and would have avoided them with ease.
That’s one thing nobody seems to have figured out at least, Mel thought with a smile.
A large part of warfare was choosing what you showed your adversaries. The more of your power you revealed early, the easier time you had, but the more the survivors would adapt to you.
It was a delicate balance, made all the more difficult by having limited skills and no one else to rely on. Mel’s [Sanguine Coat] and [Gaze of the Serpent] were two things that nobody seemed to have a counter for.
In fact, she doubted they even understood what those abilities did. She was rarely ever without her coat, and her eyes only glittered emerald green in the darkness or low light. None of it was obvious enough that most people would be able to put two and two together.
Her [Hidden Mist] was another story. It was impossible to disguise what she was doing with it, but then again, that was the point wasn’t it?
More than once, Mel had seen people nervously look at a dell filled with fog and go miles out of their way to avoid it. She hadn’t even been there.
Mel was perched on a lip below the path she had scouted out earlier in the middle of the night, when she had first found this hideout. It was useless except for her specific purpose.
It wasn’t large enough to fight on, and she was utterly exposed if anybody peeked over the edge. At least, she would have been if not for the mist. Slipping off to the side had been child’s play.
Mel watched as [Bane of Tartarus] faded, leaving the Coppers staggering and disoriented in the mist. Motes of darkness boiled off their exposed skin, revealing burn scars. Their armor was weakened as well, one of two unique effects Omen damage imparted without explicitly outlining it.
That was what inevitably would separate the weak from the strong. Everybody, if they survived long enough, would get all their aspects and advance to Copper. However, even if two identical twins had the same aspects, they might use them in entirely different ways.
More importantly, every aspect type had its own parameters that the system didn’t tell you about. Omen, for example, left lingering wounds and weakened equipment.
However, by far the most intriguing aspect of Omen was that it invoked negative emotions in people. Mel had seen everything from paranoia (the most common) to rage, and even jealousy.
Taking advantage of people temporarily incapacitated by their own minds was one of [Bane of Tartarus’] key selling points. On top of the high damage it did.
Mel adjusted the density of the mist, a new trick she picked up after fighting the Bloodletters, leaving a small wake as if somebody had run through.
She watched with deep interest as all three of them kept in lockstep, following the false trail. Their spears led the way with measured thrusts. Mel had rarely seen anybody deny Omen’s mental effects so completely.
They were in such perfect synchronization that when the first Copper stepped over the edge, there was no warning for the others. They all joined in her forward pitch off the side of the mountain.
“Gods damn,” Mel said, shaking her head. Standing, she waited a few moments until she could channel [Bane of Tartarus] again. Once she could, her palm filled with the inky darkness. Mel hurled the skill up the side of the mountain to where a few candles of heat burned steadily.
Mel loved metal armor, purely for its ability to conduct heat away from what might otherwise be hidden bodies. Even around walls where she couldn’t see through, she could see the radiation of heat from a metal helmet several feet above the wearer’s head.
She still struggled with aiming at times, but it helped that she didn’t need to care about pesky things like wind speed or its direction. The only things that seemed to alter its trajectory were solid objects and gravity.
The Archers positioned to fire down on anybody foolish enough to walk the narrow path into the camp screamed and thrashed. They were much less durable than the Copper Defenders. Two of them fell off the side while they scrambled in complete darkness.
A third Archer took a much more controlled descent and recovered fast enough to shoot several green-streaking arrows through the fog.
Aspect Skill: [Poison Volley]
One of the arrows passed mere inches from her ear. The acidic burning sound of poison told Mel that she didn’t want to get hit by that attack. As if the skill name wasn’t obvious enough. Several arrows spread out, forcing Mel to drop down out of reach.
She heard them shatter against the stone lip just above her, though many of them plunged over her head into the chasm.
Unlike most individuals, the Archer’s eyes weren’t searching the fog for any sign of Mel. He was focused on her general direction. He must have some kind of trick to increase his sense.
That wouldn’t stop Mel.
There wasn’t much room to maneuver on her tiny ledge, but she did her best to come out a foot or two away from where she had been as soon as the arrows stopped.
Darting toward the Archer, Mel pulled up short when she realized why he had stopped firing.
A tall Amazonian woman had her entire hand through the man’s stomach, lifting him up into the air amid the swirling fog. Mel had no idea how she could see, but it was clear that she had aimed for the Archer with unerring accuracy.
“Vigor issue,” she chided. She threw him down, the dark hole in his middle making it clear he wouldn’t get up again.
Mel held out her twinblade when the woman tilted her head back and turned straight toward her.
The only thing that gave Mel pause about her sensory abilities was the way her silver eyes darted about, as if searching.
Her mane of red hair poked out from under the wolf hood she wore. “I can smell you,” she said ominously. “Why are you hiding from me, Mel? It’s been so long!”
Mel frowned, unsure how she knew her name. Not that she was surprised, exactly. Though it was nice not being called a demoness for once. “I’m a little busy right now.”
She could feel a Legendary title emanating from the woman. Mel was hardly surprised given how easily she had taken out that Copper Archer.
The woman looked around, then turned back in her general direction with a playful smirk. “A little busy having all this fun by yourself?”
She can’t see me, Mel realized. That didn’t mean she didn’t have some other sense that could pinpoint her location.
“Are we going to have a problem?” Mel asked, recognizing her as the viking woman she had seen dominating on the back of the long dragon. She had seen the Magi symbol emblazoned on her armor then, but there hadn’t been time to ask.
Not all Magi were friendly with one another, and this was a woman Mel had never seen in her life. However, finding somebody from Brookmoors was a jarringly welcome turn of events.
The woman tilted her head, confusion plain on her features.
Then, surprisingly, a flicker of hurt. “Of course not, Mel! You…don’t want to share?” She cast her gaze down at the bloodied weapon covering her hand. What Mel had mistaken for her hand was, in fact, a set of intricate metal claws lined with fur.
They disappeared in a rush of pale lunar ash.
Mel couldn’t believe she was having a conversation right here, of all places, just as she had found Warren. She also struggled to believe that there was a Magi so bloodthirsty and hungry for battle that she wanted to join in on the fun.
Though how she knew Mel’s name was worrying. Mel had never seen her before in her life before the dragon, and she would have remembered somebody who towered over her so majestically.
The words “snu snu” came to mind. Not least of all because the woman was clearly fond of viking leathers and furs that exposed her rather oversized assets.
“There, I’m unarmed. At least, as far as I can be in this place. Does that make me a little less threatening? Though, can’t remove my chain,” she said, spreading her arms. “You’ve been missing so long, Mel! I’ve been searching for you. In fact, a lot of us have been.”
Okay, she definitely knows me, Mel thought. Normally I’d just tell somebody point blank that I don’t know them and let the cards fall where they may, but I can’t have her at my back while I’m chasing Warren. Not to mention, my own memories aren’t exactly reliable. She could know me, and I just have a hole where my memories of her should be.
“This is a personal matter,” she explained. “I’m after the leader of the Stolst gang and anybody stupid enough to stand between me and him.”
The woman’s eyes never stopped searching for her. It was unsettling to see her constantly flicking her gaze from Mel then away, and back again.
She could have let the woman see through the mist as well, but Mel still didn’t trust her. Being a Magi didn’t automatically mean “ally”. Plus, it was possible that she had stolen the armor from somebody she killed. However, Mel thought that was a distant possibility. Magi warred with each other more often than not. The feuds you could find yourself locked in when you lived multiple lives on different worlds were manifold.
The viking smiled in a friendly way. “Well, you know I’d never get between you and an enemy. Quite the opposite, even when the moon is out.”
…Ooookay, Mel thought. That wasn’t ominous at all. Just gonna…blow past that.
The clanking of armored men coming down the path turned Mel’s attention to the left. Dammit, I had hoped to be halfway up the incline by now. Talking has given them time to dig in.
Mel turned to the woman. “You looking for some easy runes?” Magi were hungry for advancement of any kind. It was an easy way to strike up an alliance, however temporary it may be.
“Always.” She flashed Mel a warm, fanged grin. She took an eager step towards Mel, a chain rattling on her back.
Mel motioned to the heavily armored Defenders. “If I gave you some cover, you think you could hold their attention? I only want Warren. You can have the rest.”
“Absolutely. I’m not exactly the quiet type.”
Mel could feel the waves of bloodlust rolling off the woman before her, but she wasn’t about to turn down a helping hand. She would have even accepted Heath’s help if he had shown up.
Seeking it…well that was another thing entirely.
The mist spread out, rolling up the path ahead to where the Defenders and Archers were hunkering down behind makeshift barricades of stacked stone and broken pallets.
Mel extended the ability to see through her [Hidden Mist] to the viking Magi. Her eyes, bright polished discs of silver, lit up as she suddenly could see again. She grinned toothily at Mel.
The viking Magi pulled out a bone belonging to some kind of wild animal. It burst into ghostly white flames and a cloak resembling a spectral wolf grew out of her hood.
Aspect Skill: [Primal Mantle]
Mel was about to point out the guards and their placements, but it seemed the viking had everything well in hand. She dropped to all fours and sprang away, her ethereal claws raking the ground with every lengthy stride.
She’s fast.
Chunks of stone were carved up, clearly marking her passage. A blind man would have been able to follow her trail, but then again, Mel guessed you didn’t need finesse when you could rip the guts out of a man with your bare hands.
The mist was only just able to extend beyond the woman’s incredible speed. The moment it covered the Archers and Defenders, they started to wildly shoot into the fog.
Moving with more grace than her tall, muscular form would suggest, the viking Magi dodged every attack coming her way. She cleared the barricades with a leap, landing right in the middle of Warren’s forces.
The sound of screams filled the air.
With all eyes away from her, Mel started her climb. She knew just where Warren would be.
