Theft of Decks 4, CH 45

That last quote from the Savior stuck with me, rummaging around in the back of my head. I couldn’t quite tell what I was looking for. Then I realized it. Depending on what he came up with, a way to control all the old Keepers still in Salvation could be an insanely effective defense. I will have to dedicate more time to reading. Two more books to go.

“Any comments before I get to work?” Chase looked at the others.

They all looked at him in return, with varying degrees of confidence, except for Kith who had that faraway look that clearly meant he was deep within his mind, controlling his shades.

Liam shook his head. “Nah. I like it. If it works, it should be a real loss to the bright bastards. If it doesn’t, you should still be able to run away and we simply won’t engage. Just don’t get yourself caught.”

Gavin sneered. “I still think it the height of folly. In a fight, they are worth little compared to properly armed, trained combatants. Besides, they are outsiders.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “So are we, man. That doesn’t change how we’re still here, fighting, right next to you. Anyway, the real question is: will you defend us?”

“Of course I will. Even if I think your plan is ridiculous, it will leave the rest of us in a fairly safe position and able to strike at the Lightborn.”

“Good enough for me.” Chase smirked and sent a jaunty salute at them all. As he strolled away, he saw them slowly climbing onto the chariot again.

Kith was actually becoming a fairly proficient charioteer. It had been almost a day since somebody fell out of the chariot last, and he was learning how to spot and evade the worst surprises in the landscape. Not that Chase intended to tell him that. Especially since Kith himself had been the last one to drop off, from a particularly nasty pothole.

The look on his face had been…- Chase put a promising jibe to the back of his mind and focused on the present. It was night, just past midnight, though the cloudless cover allowed for the light of the moon to illuminate the landscape with an ephemeral sensation. Chase didn’t mind the hour, at all. He had always worked best with alternating hours, and sometimes, nighttime jobs were the most rewarding – especially because it often allowed you to catch a mark with their pants down.

This time, he hoped they’d be able to do the same – less literally than usual, though. There was little doubt that their last stunt should have the army on high alert. Only, he doubted they’d be prepared against what he was bringing to the table. Mostly, because he only intended to take a little stroll and have a chat or two.

Circle of Darkness worked as impeccably as ever. In fact, the more he used it, the better he got accustomed to manipulating the powers of the card. Today, instead of creating a massive blanket of darkness around himself, he wrapped himself in a circle of fog-like shadows. There would be less coverage, but it would also stand out less from the distance. Besides, it wasn’t like he intended to keep himself entirely hidden today.

From the looks of things, little had changed in the Lightborn army since their last entrenched camp. Chase didn’t believe that for a moment. The Lightborn were many things – but they were not incompetent. Within a few minutes of scouting, he started noticing subtle differences.

The indebted were, again, lined up surrounding the army. They stood, just like Chase himself had stood back when they had been forcibly enrolled in their ranks, alone, or in smaller groups, less according to any form of discipline than due to who they knew and slept with. This time around, however, any scouts were further back, within arrowshot of the frontmost defenders on the embankments.

Regarding the embankments, things had also changed there. He spotted more bows and arrows than last time, and even a few robes, demarcating some of the few surviving casters and summoners lined up with the other defenders. Clearly, they’d learned that clumping up was not a clever survival strategy.

It all suited Chase just fine. Today, he had no intentions of aiming for the scouts, or infiltrating the army. There were too few casters left for them to provide any issues. He had to admit, though, that it was nice of them to bunch up his targets like this, all out in the open.

The pebble hit the ground, right next to the indebted. She was his first truly good choice. She was a middle-aged Lightborn, with the looks of someone who’d raised kids, worked hard and was absolutely done with everything life tried to toss at her. More importantly to Chase, she looked like somebody who wasn’t about to pee herself and wouldn’t attack at the drop of a hat.

Chase marveled for a second at his own idiocy. Then he continued, because, whatever else happened tonight, he was going to give it his best. She jumped slightly, then squinted into the darkness. Not straight at Chase, but close.

“Please don’t shout! I’m a friend.” Chase pitched his voice low. Not at a whisper. Those travelled farther. Just talking normally, but lower. “I’m not going to harm you. I just want to talk.” Slowly, he eked closer to her.

She adjusted her grip on her weapon – a long spear, in good quality. The way she handled it, it looked like she knew what she was doing. Also, knowing how indebted received weapons, that had to put her at the more powerful end of the scale for the indebted. Promising. She tensed up, then relaxed slightly. Her gaze softened, even as she continued gazing out into the night. When she spotted him, she froze for a moment, before looking onward, acting like nothing had happened.

He was less than twenty feet away now and decided this was as far as he could move. She stood a few dozen feet from the nearest indebted, and he was already pushing it.

“Just listen. Don’t say anything. Please.” He said. Spotting her tiny nod, he relaxed minutely. “If I could give you the chance to escape the army and find a new life, would you take it?”

A brief hesitation. No movement. No nod or any answer. Damn.

“I intend to give you all – every indebted – a chance to run. This night. We’ll distract the army. We have a place for you all. When everything explodes just run. You can be free. Do you want it?”

He couldn’t fully see her expression in the darkness. She took her time digesting what he’d said. Maybe she hadn’t heard him? Should he repeat himself.

Her eyes fixed fully on him now, intent. Her words were equally soft, yet he heard them, almost as clearly as if he stood next to her. “Are you the cripple from yesterday?”

He nearly laughed out loud. Never before had he been so relieved to be recognized like that. Slowly, he eased off the cover of darkness near the center of his circle and raised his left arm.

One more question. A simple one, candid. “Why?”

Now, Chase smiled softly into the darkness. There were many answers here. To deprive the enemy of a weapon. To hit them in a way they didn’t expect. Because they couldn’t defend properly against it. Because they did not want the slaughter if they could avoid it. There was only one true answer, though. “Because I was an indebted myself, once. Please. Alert those near you. Then I’ll move on, tell more indebted. The signal will be easy to spot.”

Those words struck home. She took a deep, shuddering breath, then nodded. Before he was able to sneak off for his next target, though, she spoke up again. “No. You stay. I will tell everybody.”

For a moment, he almost told her to stop. Then, he paused and thought about it again. What were the odds that all indebted back near Isarn would’ve listened to an outsider telling them to flee? Horrible, of course. But somebody who knew others, knew who was trustworthy and most likely to rebel against their masters? Maybe this could work. Only, how would she even go about it. It wasn’t like they were allowed to just walk around.

He observed her for the next five minutes. In those minutes, she didn’t march anywhere. Instead, she, ever so slowly, sidled closer to somebody else. Then she stayed there for a while, before the other person started moving on, while she inched closer to another indebted.

In awe, Chase looked on, as the message spread throughout the amassed indebted, without him having to do anything at all. Honestly, he already had Squall Sling and a stone prepared, ready to knock out anybody trying to call an alarm. Deep within, he had expected them to start yelling for help instead of listening.

Instead, like rings in the water, the indebted moved about, just like they already did during the long night, sharing the information. Blessedly, not a single person seemed to take the chance to bring it to the notice of their masters.

Minutes passed, excruciatingly slowly. An hour. Two. In the blue-black darkness of the moon-covered landscape, it almost seemed like a dream to Chase, like something he was imagining.

Then, the night lit up, and he was fighting for his life.

It started as a wave in the night. A rush of sound, of burgeoning screams. Just like he’d always known it would. At his core, Chase had known that this would end in screams – one way or the other. If he’d miraculously managed to clear the entire round, he would’ve raised a hand, clad in light, as a signal to Kith. This? This was the signal they’d actually expected. Some Fury-rent Lightborn awakening to the fact that something was going on.

Kith acted in an instant.

Last time they’d attacked, they had carefully surrounded the Lightborn army, letting him slowly put the summoned beings from Light of Day, Day of Darkness in position to blind, confuse and trick the Lightborn. This time, knowing that the soldiers were expecting them to attack, they dispensed with the formalities and attacked in one massive group.

They were only sixteen people to begin with. Fourteen after their last encounter. Except, nearly all of them were summoners with at least three cards at their disposal. With ample preparation, their numbers multiplied several times over – especially taking Kith and his Twice the Fun card into consideration.

The buzzing of Apian God could be heard even from the other side of the camp. That was one of the details from the card that they rarely got to use. Apian God would actually attract any local insects as well, adding to the number and variety of the buzzing, stinging mass of flying distraction. Kith had promised he’d keep the summoned creatures nearby, slowly building until they were ready to be unleashed… and damn, did he deliver.

For a moment, the cloud of insects blotted out the light of the moon. Then it was followed by other shapes, bestial and humanoid. The fires and explosions started just seconds later.

Chase readied himself as he saw the beginnings of movement among the loose ranks of the indebted. This was the pivotal moment. He’d need to do everything he could to defend them, as they ran away. Hopefully, the Lightborn would be so confused by what was happening, that they didn’t send armies after the runaways straight away. He grasped onto his short sword, smiling softly at how ridiculous it felt to brandish a tiny bloody sword against an entire army.

From inside the army’s embankments, a large group emerged. They leapt the trench and raced outward, every single one on foot, but running faster than any of them had a right to. All wore shining armor or brilliantly white cloth that shone in the darkness. As one, they ignored the running ranks of indebted, aiming straight for Chase.

Chase blinked once. He subconsciously stopped counting once their number passed thirty. Every single one an inquisitor. All of them sprinting straight for where he was hiding. He bit back a curse, turned on his heels and started running in the opposite direction.

Something was wrong. He could tell instantly. Even with Fight another Day activated, his footsteps were sluggish and slow. On top of that, his pursuers ran faster than they should really be able to. Damn. Even despite his Circle of Darkness, they’d clearly landed some sort of slowing debuff on him, and were boosting themselves on top of that.

He leapt a small stream in the grasslands, landing softly on the far side with barely a hint of slowing down. No stumbling, no clumsiness. His gait was supernaturally smooth. His Agility was not afflicted. Hence, it had to be his running speed only. Chase considered the situation, even as he pumped his arms, trying to put distance between him and the pursuit. Even without Fight another Day, his Agility should really be enough to outpace any of the inquisitors – especially the armored ones. Conclusion. Conclusion… he growled in frustration, dipping his shoulder per instinct, feeling a light breeze as something flashed past him. Conclusion! Some debuff slowed his running speed, to the point where the slowpokes could keep up. Fight another Day… he glanced down frantically, watching the greyed-out card on his arm. Damn. It was inactive. Meaning, another card was keeping his buff out of the game, and it would be a question of him making it until either debuff ran out… or he got rid of the wielder or wielders using any of the debuffs against him. Damn. This was going to be a slugging match – and with all those inquisitors on his ass, he might as well not use his Dark cards, because they’d have counters for that.

Even with the odds stacked against him, and the dozens of fanatical killers at his heel, Chase felt a grin erupt into being. This! This was life. Running from pursuit and the threat of death. You just couldn’t beat it. His grin turned mean, as cards flashed on his arms and legs. Winds of Change, for rapid card changes. One with the Soil, for added balance and maneuverability. Steps of Brilliance, to really confuse the bastards, run through air and turn on a whim. Last, but not least, Among the Raindrops, to ruin the day for his pursuers. He grinned as neither of the new cards were blocked or greyed out. They didn’t have counters for everything. He could do this. This was just like running through the streets of Isarn – only without backup, and with trained killers instead of fat guards.

Within the first thirty seconds, he realized another few added difficulties. There were no crowds here, no stalls or buildings, nothing to hide behind or use for obstructions. Behind them all, the indebted were in full panic mode, running off into the unknown. Running straight at the main Lightborn army that was, by now, rousing itself to move out in force sounded like a poor idea in the same way that Kith was slightly bad with women. In other words, he’d have to deal with the inquisitors, or find himself caught up by them regardless. Only… did he really?

For a few seconds, he broke one of his main rules for being under pursuit. Don’t look back. He figured, with them inevitably catching up on him, he’d have to think of something. One. Two. Three. He counted again. Not enemies, this time. Ranged weapons. Just four of them that he could see. One, an unwieldy crossbow, held by a panting struggler in heavy armor at the back of their numbers. The other two were short bows, carried by pursuers in leather armor who were slowly catching up on him.

His grin changed into a devil-may-care burst of laughter. If Cilia learned about this stunt, she’d have his neck. With a rapid application of Steps of Brilliance, he placed three shimmering platforms in succession in a steep turn, and two seconds later, without slowing down for a moment, he was running straight at his enemies.

At the sight of finally getting to close with him, the chasing inquisitors behaved in widely different ways. The ones in leather armor or robes swerved to the side. Meanwhile, the tougher, slower ones wearing chainmail or even, for two of them, plate armor, slowed down, hefting their weapons and shields, checking their distance to their comrades to ensure they’d be ready for a battle and moved to the front.

An arrow whizzed at Chase, swiftly followed by another. One barely missed, and he dipped to the left to avoid the other. With a low-pitched cackle, he yelled. “You want me? Then catch me, you short-armed losers!” He raced straight at them before activating Steps of Brilliance and leaping into the air.

Steps of Brilliance was a funny card. He’d heard stories about lucky bastards being granted the power of flight. Supernaturally fast, being able to whizz through the air at the speed of thought. His card was not that amazing. But it was a Light card, meaning, these fanatics were unlikely to be able to block it. Also, the platforms were invisible to anybody but himself, and his enemies couldn’t see where he was aiming to go. Finally, it did allow him to go up into the air. About thirty feet. He’d learned that by painful accident. Enough to clear most walls and buildings. But if he was already, say, dropping from the Elemental towers, he could only move down or straight ahead.

But they didn’t know that.

Hefting his short sword, Chase took one step after the other, dedicating a good deal of attention to continually placing the platforms ahead of him. He ran in a twisted pattern so as to not present a perfect target for the archers and the crossbowman.

At first, the responses were simple, professional. Short, barked orders as they followed his movements, spreading out, ready to engulf him when he came back down.

As he kept running in the air, those orders grew more confused and questioning. The archers worked on overtime, unleashing arrow after arrow up at Chase.

As a kid, Chase had always undervalued Mental Power. He’d seen it as something exclusively for casters or summoners, useless for normal people. Now, confronted with the need to continually create small, palm-sized platforms mid-air, step on those platforms, not drop down into the crowd of blood-thirsty fighters below and avoid getting hit by arrows, his Mental Power was the only thing keeping him alive. That, and One with the Soil, granting him perfect balance and the ability to dodge, weave and swerve with barely an effort.

Below him, the inquisitors were confused. A few of them even laughed out loud as he kept running about above their heads. Their mirth died down quickly when, first one, then another, was hit by the caustic liquid Among the Raindrops sent continually raining down from around them. Then, they started seeing it.

“This stuff’s not coming off. It’s… gah. Burning into my skin!” One of them cried harshly.

“It’s slippery, too. Avoid the puddles!” A female voice cried, after a short scream of surprise.

“He’s stalling for time.” A more collected voice rang out over the others. “Trying to wear us down with that slimy acid!”

“Took you this long, did it?” Chase called down at them, then took two rapid steps sideways in a drastic dance onto two swiftly created platforms, avoiding two arrows and a crossbow bolt, fired in impressive synchronization. “Doesn’t have to be like this. You can just leave. No harm, no foul. All-” He grunted as a beam of Light sizzled right past his shoulder. “All friends here!” He ran down an invisible patch of stairs until he was right above their heads, fouling the line of sight for the crossbowman. Then he started rising again.

For a moment stretching into infinity, he danced a lethal dance, always on the verge of serious injury. One inquisitor revealed a card that sent a brilliant line of searing light tearing into the sky to follow him, damaging where it went. However, the effect turned out to be bearable, and the near-blinding effect of the beam was actually more dangerous than the actual damage.

For every single second he survived, he knew, liquid would be building up below him, impeding and damaging his enemies, ruining their footing and tilting the battlefield in his favor. Another minute, perhaps two, and he’d be able to-

The gruff voice rang out, this time with a decisive order easily heard “All. Throw weapons on my command.”

Oh crap. That… would not end well.

“Ready. Aim. Throw!” The command rang out, followed by a lethal storm of close combat weapons, tearing up into the sky.

Chase panicked. There could be no other explanation. He knew damn well that neither excellent balance or fast reactions would help him here. Exchanging One with the Soil for Clothed in Living Light, he summoned a shield, shining dazzlingly bright in the darkness. He doubled the thickness, then doubled it again, layering the density and weight of the creation until it nearly tore from his grasp. Then, moments before the impending blizzard of deadly implements struck him from below, he leapt, and placed the shield right underneath him.

For a split second, Chase felt weightless. Then the shield started pulling him downward – and the storm hit. He was flung, first in one direction, then another, pummeled by dozens of direct hits in swift succession. Tumbling end over end, he flung out three platforms in quick succession, trying to grasp onto them to steer his fall. Clothed in Living Light fizzled out between his fingers, too damaged to keep active.

He managed to grab the third platform. Just for a few seconds, before it faded away in his hands, but it was enough for him to right himself and hang the right way up. Then he had to drop to evade the arrow aimed at his head.

He landed in the soft grass, surrounded by enemies, his entire body feeling like it had been hit by a strike from a gaborn. With a detached sensation, he noticed an arrow hanging from the meat of his left arm.

A few months ago, any part of this was likely to have killed him. The pursuit. The onslaught. Pits, half a year ago, dropping to the ground from this height might have done the trick. But Chase was not the same anymore. He got up and blocked the pain from his mind as unimportant.

For a second, two, the tableau froze. He stood at the center of a group of trained killers. Killers, who, at this moment, were either in shock that he’d survived, or scrambling to find dropped weapons, replacement weapons, any weapons. Then their leader barked an order again.

In response, Chase called for the water.

A Friendly Wave responded to his call, as ever with the bubbling, insistent sensation that this was not just a card. This was an entirely natural state of being, and all was as it should be. The powers of nature at his disposal? All was right in the world.

This time, he didn’t take the time to build the liquid around him into a single, overpowering wave. He didn’t need to. He merely gave it the order to move, a hundred smaller waves, all swirling into glorious, joyful motion all around him. With a furious yell, Chase hefted his short sword and launched into their midst.

The first few heavily armored inquisitors didn’t understand what had just happened. They flung themselves against him, their cards activating to boost, to parry, damage, whatever. The relief from finally being able to close with him was palpable. The poor suckers never stood a chance. With the first forward steps, they stepped into the softly swirling waves. Their feet shot right from under them and they slipped to the ground, where the caustic water from Among the Raindrops welcomed them, grasped them and held tight.

The sounds coming from a young inquisitor pawing at a thick layer of liquid slowly burrowing itself into the back of her drenched head would likely stay with Chase for a while. Right this moment, he didn’t allow himself the luxury of thought. He dipped right into their midst, sword bobbing and weaving, stabbing into any downed enemy, circling away from anybody who looked like they were ready for him. And always, he kept moving, kept the water in motion, even as the cries of the damned and dying arose around him.

It was a few seconds. A minute. A damn eternity. Chase lost all sense of time and self-preservation as his entire world reduced to the inquisitors in sight, carving everything into simple monickers, instructions for himself. Avoid. Engage. Drown. Stab. Slice. Leap. Kill.

What made him return to himself wasn’t a conscious decision, or any outside event. Rather, it was the sensation that the thick blanket slowing his running speed down finally lifted, life coursing into his legs again. He blinked, realizing what had happened. Then, he blinked again as he saw what the battlefield had turned into. A charnel house. All around him lay dead and dying inquisitors. A few in the distance were hobbling away, carefully, so as not to slip from the thick layer of caustic liquid burning into their legs. Yet, from the dozens of hostiles, only a trio still faced him, and one had to cling onto a comrade to stay on his feet.

He took one halting step away from them, and not one tried to follow. That first step turned into a quick sprint, then a steady jog. Then, with a long, soft exhale, he let his grasp of the water go and switched to Circle of Darkness and Fight another Day.

Shadows covered him as he raced off into the night.