Monday, September 28, 2015

Page 1085

Freezing mist was a difficult trick. Water vapor would simply desublimate into ice crystals if he tried to materialize it at zero degrees Celsius. The key, therefore, was knowing the triple point of water: that was, the combined measurement of temperature and pressure at which water could exist in any of its solid, liquid, or gas phases.

Pinpointing the temperature was simple enough, but Zeff had always struggled with manipulating the pressure just so. The problem was always atmospheric conditions. The pressure that Zeff applied to his water had to cancel out that which was already being applied by the environment.

But now, his control had moved forward by leaps and bounds, and he was certain that he could manage it, especially in the familiar environmental conditions of Dunehall. He must’ve spent a good third of his youth in this place with Asad.

Zeff manifested his water, and white fog shot across the chamber in billowing chunks. He pressed his soul into it, but he knew it wouldn’t obscure Asad and Caster’s vision. So long as they could see souls, the clouds would only conceal Zeff himself. But that was not the point. He was merely laying the groundwork. Already, Zeff could feel the temperature in the room beginning to plummet.

The rest of his freezing efforts had to be poured onto the Marauder directly. If he acted too carelessly, it would be Asad who was slowed, not Caster. And so Zeff concentrated on creating an endless stream of icy water, locked onto Caster’s soul as it moved through the fog. For extra measure, he threw in a few dozens of flying daggers of genuine ice. Of course they shattered against Caster’s body, but that was just as helpful. So long as Zeff was standing, the cold would follow Caster wherever he went. Even when the Marauder drew close to Asad, Zeff didn’t stop. He merely altered the angle from which the cold struck.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Page 1084

“Mm,” Caster mused. “How curious that we would not have heard of you until now. The Vanguard’s doing, no? Pity you’ve decided to burn that bridge.”

Zeff was hardly even listening. Asad took the opportunity to rejoin him, and indeed, it was as Zeff had thought. Those tattoos were moving. He noticed Asad fiddling with his left hand, where the golden glow seemed the most prominent.

“Perhaps you would like our assistance, instead,” Caster was saying. “Abolish is renowned for its generosity. Tell us where Darktide and the Seadevil are, and we shall go discuss the matter with them.”

“We are the lord of this place,” said Asad, also in two voices. “If you would speak terms, then do so now.”

“Adorable. But we grow impatient. This is your last chance. Be good lads and tell us. Where are the grown ups?”

There was little doubt in Zeff’s mind that he could not have withstood Caster’s attack himself. If not for whatever Asad’s tattoos were doing right now, this fight might’ve very well been over already. And all they’d managed to accomplish was briefly inconveniencing Caster. They needed to approach this differently, before the Marauder overwhelmed them.

Escaping was obviously the best option here, but how to go about it? Ramira couldn’t even walk on her own, and Axiolis could sense dozens of unfamiliar souls moving all throughout Dunehall.

“Shenado,” Zeff and Axiolis said.


“Be ready to run. Guide everyone out, but don’t stray too far.”


Zeff would have liked to elaborate further, but the Marauder was through waiting for his answer, it seemed. A destructive path came right for Zeff, and he dodged right, circling behind Asad as the Marauder himself rushed head on another time.

Zeff prepared the next strategy: temperature warfare.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Page 1083

Zeff relied on pan-forma in order to tie the position states of every little piece of his creation to that of his left hand, allowing him to move the whole, chaotic mass at once with a flick of his wrist.

With all his strength, body and mind together, he slammed the bomb into Caster.

And indeed, the result was akin to explosion. The flurry of water drills engulfed Caster all at once, and the Abolisher’s destructive body tore into them, which made them tear into one another, setting all of that highly pressurized water off in a chain reaction. This, together with the already hectic air currents whirling around it, created a burst of wind and water that didn’t just punch, but also shred.

The impact force was sustained for several seconds, as well, and Zeff had to hold his ground in front of everyone, annihilating every deadly dagger of soul-strengthened water that would have surely found them otherwise. A triangular safe zone with him at the tip. And even still, he earned himself several tears in his clothes and cuts on his face and arms. His flesh healed immediately, of course, and he annihilated the rest of the lingering mist so that he could see the Marauder.

The man had been blown back across the room, clothes in tatters and even some apparent distortions in his nearly invisible form. He seemed to be on one knee, translucent fingers having dug into the floor and left streaking claw marks therein.

A deep piping noise arrived, but it was different, sustained and reverberating and masking an alternate pitch inside it. After a moment, Zeff realized it wasn’t an attack. It was the Marauder laughing.

“Interesting,” Caster said in two voices, altered through the bassy filter of destruction. “We did not realize that we were facing the new Water Dragon, too. Tell us your name, won’t you?”

Zeff and Axiolis saw no reason to do that.

Friday, September 18, 2015

Page 1082

It swirled with quivering force, dozens of jet streams constantly creating and then annihilating themselves before they could fly out of Zeff’s control. Over and over and over again. The result was a kind of drilling bomb, so fierce that it whipped up a whirlwind as it waited to tear into something.

He didn’t know if he could even contain this thing. And he didn’t have time to worry about it, either. He pressed his soul into it, strengthening it further still.

Holy hell, Zeff.’ Axiolis pressed himself into his servant’s soul, and Zeff could feel the pan-forma merge beginning. ‘Let me help before you kill us all, hmm?

Of the three enhancements that forma afforded him, the heightened connectivity was the most immediately useful. It granted him a clearer picture of what he wanted in his mind and tighter control over the materialized particles. Most importantly, though, it allowed his creations to maintain themselves, once created. And as a result, within seconds of the merge, Zeff’s bomb reshaped itself and stabilized.

Such was the nature of pan-forma. It aided in the maintenance of the body--not just for the wielder, but for that of their work, as well.

And it was fortunate timing, too, because the Marauder was already barreling toward them--a living path of destruction.

Asad acted before Zeff could, having apparently prepared something of his own, because his tattoos were already burning gold, even through his robes. But it was more than that. Everything happened so quickly that Zeff could hardly interpret what he was looking at, but he could’ve sworn that he saw Asad’s tattoos moving, growing out of the man’s body like golden snakes.

Asad took the Marauder’s attack with freshly materialized, crystalline armor. The glass exploded against the impact, and Asad went flying back, straight over the children and into the wall behind them, leaving a vertical crater and a half-dozen fissures in Dunehall’s stone.

But Caster had been made to stop. Or pause, at least. And Zeff saw his opening.