I wake up with aches all over my back. I expected a boy with slick curly black hair shaking me, but instead I was greeted with the ceiling of my tent. I already forgot he already left me all those years ago.
My body slowly floats up by itself, bringing me onto my feet. I check my clothes, it’s the same one I wear on a daily basis. It takes my blurry brain to register why I was wearing it and not my pyjamas. I poke my head outside to check the weather. It’s a heavy downpour.
The rumbling came not from my stomach, but the purple clouds that casted a purple veil on this world. The appetite I’d usually work up in the morning wasn’t there, just a numb, bloated feeling. I touched my cheek, feeling the frigidness of my hand made me retract it instantly. The lantern that illuminated the inside of my tent was the only moving thing keeping me company as I stared blankly out my tent.
The dark sea, a formerly popular hotspot for sailors seeking a challenge to conquer. It housed dangerous yet powerful items, being guarded by the fiercest monsters and the sea itself. The common folk were able to relax knowing they’d never enter this hell of a sea.
Well, neither did they expect it to come to us. Chaos begun as the monsters that were once condemned to live in the dark sea for eternity swarm the war seas in all directions. Surrounded, I’d give an estimate of 80% of the world’s population to be considered wiped out. It brought a deadly virus that could spread through physically and mentally, turning the victim into one of them. The problem wasn’t the fact they were practically unkillable, but rather the ability to adapt to their environment. No kingdom was safe under the hands of time as it ticked to our demise.
I wonder how he’s doing.
“Nimbus, we got news.” A man wearing barnacle-ridden armour invades my privacy. “We need you, now.”
“Didn’t Iri tell you not to disturb me.” I said. “Tell her I’m coming, go back to your post.”
“Yes madam.”
There a woman wearing blue gauntlets stood in the rain without an umbrella. I cast a gravity magic spell to repel the rain away from myself as I marched forward. The sand beneath my feet felt grainier than usual.
I stood beside the commodore with both hands on my back. The sudden turn she makes when she doesn’t feel the rain drip on her face doesn’t surprise me. It’s an odd connection between a measly fortune teller and a renowned navy commodore.
“You wish to find me, Iri?” I spoke softly.
“Yes.” She mutters. “Something happened yesterday. One of the traders saw a skyship crash at Amarut.”
“What’s your synopsis commodore?”
“He said there was a bright light coming from the ship.”
“A distress signal?”
“It’s possible. But if it isn’t, we’re going to have to wipe that horde of atlanteans before it adapts to the desert heat.”
For reasons I don’t know, the magic in these deserts is what keeps it warm even at night. It’s more of a theory rather than a fact since I based it off the fact sandstorms happen quite frequently. This theory is further supported after the increase of sandstorms ever since the dark sea came to us.
The red in Iri’s eye tells me those droplets of water coming from her eye didn’t belong to the sky. I walked up to her front, waving at her staring-into-the-abyss-eyes. She snaps out of her blank state as more tears start flowing from her eye sockets.
“I’m not crying.” She tries toughing it out.
“I haven’t even asked.” I said, grabbing a handkerchief from my pocket. I covered her face with it. “Man up a bit, miss commodore, you have a job to do.”
“Thanks.” Iri snatches the hanky and wipes her face. By the time she hands the wet slop back to me, those streams of tears haven’t stopped one bit. Just how does someone like her become a commodore… a question I bet the gods won’t give me an answer to.
I snap my fingers, casting yet another spell, this time being my mind magic. I wait until the spell finishes its job.
“I covered the area with mind magic, they shouldn’t be able to see us.” I put my hand on her shoulder.
“Really?” I nod in response.
Iri collapses on her knees, curls up like an armadillo and starts breaking down in tears. I knew she had a responsibility to protect the survivors, but I never expected it to crush her under its weight. Still I turned away from the scene, saving her some embarrassment. The loud sniffling invades my ears, something I didn’t expect to hear ever since I was arrested by the grand navy. As the older woman in this situation, I kept my cool and made sure to not shatter like she did.
“J-Jun-niper.” She stutters. How hard is she crying right now?.. I thought to myself.
“Yes?”
“C-can you wa-ake me u-up f-from this dr-dream?”
“That’s something my fortune telling service cannot provide… sorry.” I sighed, because even I too wish to wake up from this nightmare.
We arrived at where the town’s gate used to be. Because of the recent sandstorms, the entire town has been levelled to the point where there’s no buildings in sight, just a flat landscape. Well it was flat, other than that skyship on fire.
“Verily, ‘tis reeks of magic.” The new guy, believed his name was Dwayne Galvestone. We had to do an entire fetch quest just to get his armour back. No one died, but by the Zeus it really shouldn’t have been that hard if a certain commodore didn’t make a fruit stall collapse. He reeks of ‘the knight’s codex’, if it wasn’t obvious by his deep voice paired with the use of old english.
“You took only three of us here Iri, why not bring in a few more supports?” I asked, but the answer seems to have already formed in my mind. “You sense it don’t you?”
Dwayne wasn’t wrong, there’s something in that skyship. It not only survived the fall, but it seems to be recovering with every second passing by. Nightmarish might be the best classification for it. Iri let us here because she’s scared any support will become a nuisance to the elites. But…
Why am I in the front of the team? I’m the shortest here, I use magic, meanwhile these two meatheads use weapons. The buffest man on our team is at our backs, while me, a nimble girl, in the front? What logic is this??? I should’ve backed up when I had the chance…
A shiny green arm rose from the rubble. It plants itself onto the floor, before another arm comes out. It drags out a twisted flesh flower headed atlantean, whatever remained of its ribcage hung there as it bled. I wait for one of the two to step forward, but they don’t. The atlantean gets out of the rubble, standing on all fours. It whimpers at us, I think. I couldn’t hear it clearly while the rain constantly poured on us. It also seemed to dim my senses, as the next time I blinked my eyes, a shiny claw covered half my view.
Galvestone destroys the claw with a single swing from his greatsword. Even so, it kept its trajectory towards my face. The shattered arm immediately succumbed to the weight of five times the normal gravity once it came in range of my spell. Iri leaps from behind me, thrusting her saber against the beast. It intentionally left the arm behind, dashing backwards. We watched as it regenerated the arm with incredible speed.
“Fake crystal limbs, looks like its flesh is only the torso and the head.” I simplified what came into my mind to the other two.
“What’s the plan?” Iri shouted despite being right beside me.
“I force it down with gravity magic, you two severe the head.” I said. I can’t help but feel a little light headed after the atlantean’s first attack.
“Thy shall follow thee, Iri.” Galvestone grabs his giant sword, Bronisciea, with two hands.
I take a few steps forward in an attempt to bait the atlantean. Seeing that it did go for the tiniest one in the team, it’s only natural it’ll do it a second time. It hisses at me like a cat, circling its way to my left. I put both my hands on my back as I kept my vision focused in front of me.
I could tell it jumped by the corner of my eye. It’s a shame that my spell reacts to my surroundings and is not manually activated. Both of its arms slam into the ground. I hear Iri and Galvestone make their war cries as swords clashed.
Clashed? Didn’t I stop it from lifting a finger? It should be vulnerable, but I heard clinks instead of the satisfying sound of a butcher’s knife cutting through flesh. Curiosity takes over as I turn, seeing a third and a fourth arm wielding a trident each parry both their attacks. I never considered it could grow more crystal limbs, just how smart was this thing?
The atlantean not only pushed them both back, but it detonated the arms that were suffering from my spell. It was by pure luck I manipulated a part of the ground to shield myself from the blast, since I expected it to do something fishy. It lands on its hind legs this time, repositioning its new arms into place. The trident it conjured merged into one, as it held it high pointing against us.
“Juniper, did you tag it?” Iri asked. I, as most gravity magic users, are capable of tagging a target through physical contact. Tagged targets will be susceptible to any spells I decide to cast, but it only lasts for five seconds. However, the conditions for me to tag someone are different to a normal gravity mage.
I don’t know what came over me when I saw that stance the atlantean took. Everything that happened beside me became blurry as a wave of nostalgia infects my head. I may not remember it, but some part of my brain triggered. It labelled its stance as ‘familiar’. My muscle memory viewed it as an ally, not an enemy. What part of this horrid, twisted crystal atlantean was familiar enough to trigger this, no amount of racking my brains could I figure it out.
By the time I raised my hand, it’s gone. I feel the aura of two disappointed friends from behind me scratching my back. It doesn’t take long before one of their hands reaches my shoulder and a soft whisper filled with passive aggression enters my eardrums.
“What was that, Juniper Nimbus?” Galvestone had his accent turned off, something I viewed at the time as ‘He is angry and he will bury me alive’.
“Psh, it’s not like we could get it anyway if she used her magic.” Iri spits on the sand. “It dug into the sand Iri, in case you were daydreaming.”
“R-right…” I responded.
Galvestone disappointingly rests his humongous sword on his shoulders, walking back to camp. Iri pats my back in a ‘It’s not your fault, do better next time.’ feeling. I intended to stand there, letting whatever happened sink in, but she grabbed me by my dress and dragged me back to camp.
