Chapter 13: The Power of Vis

Aven walked three miles in the snow with an empty bottle up his ass. Thank the paragons the chains made everyone’s gait awkward enough that his was unnoticeable.

The guards counted the bottles brought along for gathering black blood. Hence the necessity of smuggling in his own. Esharah made the drop off the day before. Thankfully, she hadn’t questioned how exactly he was going to use it.

“This had better work,” Aven groaned under his breath when they stopped for a break. The destination was further out today, a distant pit the hunts rarely visited.

Logash chuckled in reply, eyes raised to the sky, “You, my friend, are the one who decided this was a good idea. I only said that the black blood may work for runes of power.”

The guards didn’t bother searching them after weapons were handed out. Unfortunately, since the pat down back at Hellfrost, Aven hadn’t quite managed to find a moment when retrieving a bottle from his pants wouldn’t be conspicuous. With a break, however, the chance came. It was an unfortunate fact that even in a snow-covered wasteland while hunting abominations from beyond the natural world, prisoners and guards alike still needed to shit. No one cared where prisoners shat out in the wilderness. Behind a boulder was as good a place as any to freeze one’s nethers off while answering nature’s call. As such, no one cared when Aven popped behind the meagre privacy of a standing rock and dropped trousers.

Bottle transferred to a less uncomfortable home, Aven and Logash rejoined the others. Eight now in total. A pair of newcomers today, both beastkin who Ko’jan greeted as his brothers – despite both being canin while Ko’jan was ursin.

“Just because we have different blood does not mean we are not brothers!” Ko’jan had laughed, slapping the smaller of the canin, a boy who looked closer to fifteen than twenty. “Wally and Iskir will show how strong family can be!”

Wally, the shorter and younger one squeaked acknowledgment while the taller Iskir growled affirmation.

Their tactics had further refined over the past weeks. Katrin’s spirits could warn them of the number of voidspawn in the pits. Ouron could detect borrowers and move the earth to slow or trap the voidspawn. Once in battle, Aven could call out positions. Those with domains of the body like Ko’jan, Gretchen, and Logash formed a wall, stopping the voidspawn attacks, then finishing the beasts off. The two canin proved their worth as well, Iskir with a vis body focused on speed not dissimilar to the Swiftfoot body that Father tried to cultivate in Aven. Wally’s vis domain focused on senses, with hearing and eyesight sharp enough to detect the active pits even better than Katrin’s spirits.

In the butchering, Aven could absorb any of the black blood that infected the others, letting them all gather the voidspawn at a faster pace. That very success, however, proved a curse. With greater efficiency, Erdrak pushed them harder, leading them further from Hellfrost each trip to find more pits. Grumbles from the other prisoners voiced resentment. What exactly they complained about, Aven couldn’t fathom; in the weeks before, prisoners died nearly every day. Over the past week, the only deaths came when a larger voidspawn broke away from their group and went after the prisoners hanging back.

“How do these runes work?” Aven had asked during their last break.

Logash had sketched a symbol into the snow, “Runes are the language of power. Imbued with a vis’ strength, they shape that power into particular form.”

“Then...just memorizing these symbols and carving them can give anyone a vis’ power?”

“It is not so simple,” Logash had explained. “Runecarving is an art. With each carving, the maker pours their own spirit into the rune. Only with great practice and focus does that process actually create a rune of power. Only a master can truly replicate a vis’ power.”

In Aven’s mind, that explanation explained only very little, but he was not going to challenge Logash in an art that the ogre clearly knew more about.

“And what do you need to make these runes?”

“Traditionally, the blood of vis or of sacred beasts,” Logash had said. “There are ways of enchanting natural materials to serve as a medium for runes, but I do not know them.”

“Would voidspawn blood work?”

“It might.”

And thus the task fell to Aven to find a way to gather voidspawn blood and keep it without the guards’ knowledge. Hence the bottle. Even now, long removed from its mercifully brief home, Aven winced from the soreness. This had better be worth it.

“Pit ahead!” Wally squeaked. “Er…a loud one.”

Katrin sent Vili off to investigate, accompanied by a duo of smaller spirits shaped like icicles with spindly arms. They returned swiftly, perching on the maledictus’ shoulders and whispering in her ear.

“Seven in the pit ahead,” Katrin relayed. “Six small ones. One big one. With a spike covered tail.”

“Speartail,” Ko’jan grumbled.

Just the one that had killed Old Fox.

“It throws those spines from its tail,” Aven said. “I’ve seen them go right through a man’s shield and arm.”

Stolen story; please report.

Ouron thought for a second as they approached, “In the legions, we fought zhagra ogre spear-throwers who could get through our shields.”

Logash chuckled, “We train throwing spears to hunt greatboar. Your shields are not thicker than their hides.”

“Aye,” Ouron said. “So we strapped two shields together and that did the trick.” He gestured to Gretchen and the older of the canin. “You two hang back. Give Logash and Ko’jan your shields.”

They did so, Iskir eagerly and Gretchen reluctantly. Quickly, they overlaid the shields onto Logash and Ko’jan’s, tightening the straps until the shields were flush.

Ko’jan hefted the doubled shield, “Ha! This should be thick enough!”

“Stay close,” Ouron commanded Gretchen and the canin. “We’ll still need your spears.”

Iskir nimbly hopped on each foot, as far as he could manage while chained to Wally, “Ready to kill ‘em.”

The other prisoners and guards held back as usual while the group approached.

When the pit came in sight, Ouron called out loud enough for the other prisoners and guards to hear, “Five half-spawn, one speartail ahead!”

Guards and prisoners alike shrank back a few steps more.

The group stepped towards the pit. The chittering grew louder, and the first of the spawn emerged. First the smaller ones, the speartail coming afterwards, even larger than Old Fox’s killer. Rather than charge, the smaller ones scurried around the speartail, as if cowering in fear of it. The speartail raised its head and let out an ear-piercing shriek. The tail whipped, and a spine the length of Aven’s forearm shot out.

Logash raised the doubled shield, and the spine slammed into it, stopping short. Ko’jan whooped at the success, surging forward beside Logash with renewed boldness. The voidspawn let out a chorus of shrieks, as if astonished and outraged that their attacks were defied. A second spine followed.

“Spine right!” Aven called in the slowed time of the Battle Mind. “Gretchen!”

Ko’jan sidestepped in front of the woman, catching the spine on his shield. At the same time, the smaller voidspawn rushed forward. One leapt onto Logash’s shield, teeth snapping at the wood, while two more surged onto Ko’jan. The canin duo moved to intercept more of the spawn, while Aven reached the hand of the void out to pluck the spawn off of Logash’s shield, grabbing it by the back of the neck and leaving it dangling for Logash to skewer like a hanging fruit.

Aven kept his eye as the speartail raised its tail again, noting the arc. He shouted loudly as he could, “Spine overhead! Headed for the back.”

The spine zipped over their heads. He didn’t check the trajectory any further. Another of the smaller spawn scurried around Ko’jan, headed for Gretchen.

The woman backpedaled, breaking formation, eyes wide with terror.

Katrin stepped forward, hand empty hand outstretched while the other lashed out with the hatchet, “Rranak!”

A dark blur flew through the air as Vili struck, followed immediately by the two smaller frost spirits. All three struck the voidspawn’s eyes, and it swung its head wildly, pincers snapping. One pincer caught Katrin’s arm, sending her sprawling.

Ouron got to her, hatchet swinging down to sever the spawn’s head while Ko’jan fended the others off with his shield. The speartail shrieked again, air quivering in its rage as the other spawn died. The six-legged beast surged forward, no longer content to strike from a distance.

Aven called out the attack, and Ko’jan rose to meet it. The tail struck like a war flail, right on Ko’jan’s shield. The double shield held, but Ko’jan fell back from the force, crashing into Ouron. The tail whipped back, ready to strike again.

Logash filled the gap, taking the strike and staying on his feet. The ogre stabbed, and the speartail jerked back, out of spear range. Aven stretched the hand of the void out further, tips forming into scything claws that ripping across the beast’s face. The maw opened, and it released the loudest shriek yet, so loud the mere sound sent pain stabbing through Aven’s temples. It moved forward again.

Katrin’s spirits struck it in the face, missing anything vital but causing it to flinch back again.

An arrow shot right past Aven’s head, burying in the speartail’s eye. Aven glanced back to see one of the guards with bow raised, a slender young man with close-cropped dark hair. The man loosed another arrow before Erdrak ripped the bow away from his hands, giving Aven a salute of a fist over his heart as the captain shoved him back.

Aven turned back to the voidspawn, exultation rising as the beast stepped back. This wasn’t an unstoppable monster. It was afraid. The hand of the void snapped out again and ripped another gouge across the blinded eye. Another shriek of pain, of defiance, of rage. It lunged, front claws raised. Logash and Ko’jan stood firm against the assault. The shields splintered, but they held. Ogre and beastkin speared the beast as one. The canin’s spear joined theirs a second later.

Still, the speartail howled and struggled. The tail pulled back. Aven’s voidhand caught it before it could swing.

“Die, you bastard,” Aven’s eyes met the remaining eye of the voidspawn. A multifaceted thing of alien darkness, the red glow deep within a fire of pure hatred towards all life. The light dimmed as Logash threw his full weight into the spear.

With a last twitch, the beast died. Aven released his grip on the tail and let out a long breath. A moment of stillness, and then a roar. A cheer of victory that rang across the tundra, coming from Ko’jan’s throat and echoed by the others. The sound seemed to startle the prisoners and guards alike as their group stepped back, weapons lowered.

The expressions of both guards and prisoners were different now. Less wary. A bit of envy, perhaps. A bit of interest. Maybe a little respect.

Aven gestured to the crowd, “Well, come on! These monsters won’t butcher themselves!”

A few of them did actually step forward. Aven’s eyes settled on a man he recognized. The bald-headed, scarred man that Ko’jan had called Remos.

When Aven hacked into the speartail’s carapace, Remos stepped up to his side.

“Good call on the spines,” Remos muttered in a gravelly voice. “Without that, I wouldn’t have spotted it. Might’ve got myself skewered.”

Aven gave him a small smile, “We’re all in this together. When one of us dies, more die. Every time. I’d like it better if none of us die.”

Remos puffed his cheeks and blew, “Ain’t that the dream.”

“Not a dream if we make it happen,” Aven said, hacking into the corpse to let out a stream of the black blood.

Remos pulled away from the blood but still nodded, “Maybe. We’ll try it your way, voidtouched.”

Aven grinned and continued the work. In the chaos of dealing with the corpses, he easily filled the extra bottle up with the black blood. He could feel a stronger pulse of power in the speartail’s blood, strength he hadn’t felt since being in the voidpit itself.

“This enough?” Aven surreptitiously showed the bottle to Logash.

“We shall find out,” Logash said.

Aven tried to shove the bottle into the ogre’s hand. Logash refused.

“Oh no,” Logash’s eyes held a mischievous glint. “You did such a good job getting it here. You should be the one to get it back.” Another low chuckle like distant waves rolling onto the shore. Even being a prick the ogre sounded like a force of nature. “You are the experienced one. I’ve not practiced those muscles.”

Aven sighed but relented. Even that task wasn’t enough to spoil his good mood.

Aven still smiled even while walking three miles back through the snow with a bottle of black blood up his ass.

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