AV - Round 3

No More Heroes

I was once a hero.

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I sat on the floor of my room, playing with the gems I had ordered to be brought to me. If I couldn't go to the earth, I made it come to me. They were all different colors. A slab of shiny black obsidian that I had been told can be smithed into fine weaponry. Cloudy white crystals with a rough texture. Quartz they called it. Every mage of the earth carried a piece of quartz jewelry to announce their station after being recognized as a genuine spellcaster, another thing I had been told but never seen before. But I had these set aside and was gazing intently at my personal favorite.

It was black like obsidian, but as I stared into its depths, I noted a soft, shining white that flickered like fire in its core. My father had given it to me personally, and carefully explained exactly what the gift was. In my flimsy grip I held a soulphire, a gemstone that couldn't be mined normally like all the others. Though many had searched far and wide, no one had found a place where soulphires were in abundance. Eventually it became accepted that for a soulphire to reveal itself to a person indicated great luck for the recipient, and just holding one was reputed to grant a fulfilling life. I carried mine always, hidden in a pocket that only I and my father knew of, hoping to attain the promises that folklore attributed to it. And today, I hoped they were true.

"Alexander! Come here."

I opened my eyes and uncrossed my legs, slowly getting to my feet with the aid of a small wooden staff. It was rough going. My body was weak and I needed the staff to walk, despite being almost ten years old. My clothes were soft and comfortable, as I spent a lot of my time in them. They were also relatively clean, as I rarely went outside in my condition. But hopefully, that would change soon.

I slowly made my way out of my room, the staff thumping on the wood floors as I shuffled along. Several servants bustled about, neatly avoiding my tortoise pace.

In about ten minutes I stood in front of the door to my father's study. I rapped on the wood once with my staff, letting gravity do most of the work rather than lose the energy necessary for such an exertion, and waited. There was the sound of bustling and the handle turned before the door opened, revealing two people standing by my father's desk.

One was a boy about my age, with brown hair and a bored expression. But his eyes were alight with concealed energy. It was the kind of look all the kids my age had when playing outside and running about. An expression I'd never made.

The other looked ancient and wore a stole of numerous earthen colors, artfully blended together to make it seem as though he wore soft stone. His clothing was a simple traveling cloak of green and brown. I looked for its pattern and found that the upper half of the cloak was green with specks of brown that slowly grew more prominent the further down it went, perfectly mimicking the appearance of a leafy tree in the middle of spring. And finally, there on a gnarled hand, was a simple wooden ring with a polished quartz gemstone set into it. Sir Malliker, renowned hero of Eksha, and former Earth Guardian. He looked into my eyes, and I was instantly at ease, his aura soothing me and bringing to mind a mighty tree gently swaying in the breeze.

"Alexander!"

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Sweat ran down my face, further soaking my blindfold. I gripped my staff tightly, "listening" to the feather-light steps on the earth as they approached. They stopped five feet away and I snapped the tip up in a thrust, feeling it graze something just before it impacted with my shoulder to send me to the ground.

I tore away the blindfold and glared at Samuel, grinning and bouncing lightly on his feet in front of me. "You know the point of this exercise isn't to knock me down."

"Some improv is good!" he said.

"Oh, well, in that case think fast." My staff shot up and whacked him on the side of his leg, sweeping both out from underneath him before his expression even changed.

His hand shot down and gripped the earth, forcibly rotating his body upwards to perform a handstand. Before I could strike again he pushed off and did several consecutive backward flips to get out of my immediate range.

"And the Zelian judge gives it a five. Showoff," I said. I took hold of my staff and used it to lift me up.

"I prefer to think of it as displaying my natural talent," said Samuel, that grin of his never fading. "You're just a little too predictable. Going for the flashy stuff without any thought for subtlety."

"Yeah, I guess. You go on ahead, I need to meditate."

"Sure, sure," said Samuel, turning to leave. "Must be inconvenient having to rely on energy from the earth just to walk normally.

I grinned slyly and casually kicked the ground. Samuel fell on his face in the next instant. I slid my foot back and the raised earth that had been in front of his foot dissipated into a small pile of sand. "Oh, it has its perks," I said.

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I stood in an empty room. Well, mostly empty.

Before me was a stone chest with no seam. The place where my teacher kept his belongings. And now, he had bequeathed to me his greatest treasure, as his teacher had done to him. There would be no more learning from the old man. Ancient as he had appeared so many years ago, we had both known he was not long for the world. His generation was past. Samuel had already departed for his own journey. Now, it was time for me to reach for my dreams, to be the greatest hero Eksha had ever known.

I released my hold on the wooden staff that had sustained me in my weaker years. There was no longer a use for it. I reached out my hand and touched the top of the chest, feeling the bundled magic that served as a lock. Without a moment's hesitation, I neatly untangled the weave and sliced the top of the chest free. I tapped it once and the stone turned to sand.

There they were, three smooth stone rods that pulsed with the magic of Eksha's very core. I picked them out of the sand and without further hesitation combined them into my teacher's staff. I thunked the rock down on the wooden floors, feeling its weight. With my magic, it seemed to be little heavier than a feather.

I stood there in that empty room for a moment. This staff wasn't mine, not yet. With solemn silence, I reached into my coat and felt for that hidden pocket. I withdrew the soulphire and gazed into its depths. That day teacher had arrived, he had used it to teach me a little-known fact about these gems. Not folklore, but something he had learned over the years. When a soulphire is fed magic while held, the brighter the glow, the greater the destiny of the holder. When I had channeled my magic in front of my teacher, Samuel, and my father, it had lanced out with such brilliant intensity that for a moment before I let go of the gem, it outshone the sun.

My teacher had been troubled since then, and had carefully warned me not to misinterpret the display. I was assured of a grand destiny the likes of which had not been seen in Eksha, yes. But there was no way to tell if that destiny was good or ill. I may become the greatest hero in the world. Or I may be fated to end it. And there was no way to know which destiny was mine until the time came.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried about potentially being the cause of Eksha's ruin. But it was for that reason I resolved to be a hero. I would force my fate to be what I chose. I placed the soulphire against the staff and concealed it within the weapon. It would always remain close at hand, to remind me of my decision.

The air resounded with a sharp crack behind me. I turned and saw a door that had not been there before. I turned from the chest and stepped towards it. As I walked, my hair grew out, my coat became worn and faded, my skin grew knotty veins and the illusion of bark, and my eyes gained the glint and depth of someone who had seen too much in his life. When I reached the door, I became dimly aware that I was at my proper age now.

The door opened of its own accord and revealed an alien cityscape in ruins. The sky was dim, casting perpetual twilight on the scene. I looked through and immediately noticed the sea of black corpses.

The bodies were piled everywhere, bearing numerous slashes on their dark flesh. Limbs had been amputated forcefully and scattered about. And some looked as though they had been slain from within, with gaping chest cavities and spilled organs.

"Get back you false spirits! I have not yet failed to be tormented by you. I said back!"

The voice was familiar. I had heard it on the ship before, an imperious tone that brooked no argument. It belonged to someone who called himself Zair, a Torcal. The light went on in my mind and I steeled my resolve. The only reason someone from the ship would be here was simple. He was my opponent.

I stepped through the doorway and walked towards the source of the noise, skirting the bodies and quietly drawing power from the earth, just in case I needed to be violent right off the bat. With some worry, I noted Eksha hanging in the sky above, the elements raging on the ruined world.

I rounded the corner of a ruined building and took in the scene. A black man was surrounded by an equally dark and moaning crowd. His shadows whirled about him, altering their form to strike at whoever got too close. The legion of Torcals screamed to him as they surged forward, reaching out for the man with unwavering determination.

"Why didn't you save us?"

"Our world died because you failed!"

"The Emperor could do nothing!"

"Why did you abandon us?"

"Save us! Spare us! Help us!"

"Enough!" roared Zair, cleaving through the nearest pack. "I have not yet failed nor will I ever! I promise you will be saved. Now leave me be!"

"Feed on the murderer!" yowled the legion. "Devour the traitor! Blood for blood!"

"Chaaaaaaarge!"

I jumped when loud whoops and yells interrupted the mob's cries, and moments later a small group of teenagers came from behind me, their weapons at the ready.

They stopped beside me, and one with a smoldering staff grinne. "Let's go Alexander! Looks like some heroes are needed."

I stood with my mouth agape. I recognized the boy who spoke to me. I recognized all of them. Aldra the Howling Dervish with her twin blades, named for her style of spinning like a top in battle. Malek the Bright, a fire mage who relied on pinpoint spells over massive fireballs. One-Hit Wenda, her battlehammer over her broad shoulders. Parish Nightingale, whose sword sang in battle from the carefully placed holes. And...and Samuel the Spectre, his footwork and speed making him seem more illusion than reality in combat.

But, something was wrong. A voice in my mind piped up and I realized why I was not embracing these friends. They had died in that battle years ago. Where we had stood against a god, and only Samuel and I remained standing. It was after their deaths that we had retired from being heroes, making the excuse that there was no more challenge. But in honesty, we had been broken. Friends and allies for many years gone one after another. But the worst of it, had been knowing that they sacrificed themselves willingly to give Samuel and I the opportunity to land the deathblow.

And here they were again. "This isn't real," I mumbled. "It has to be...a dream. No." I surveyed the carnage and noted the desperation in Zair's voice. "A nightmare." A knot twisted in my stomach and a chill ran down my spine. And right on cue, the mob turned from Zair and rushed us, weapons forming from their shadows. My friends shouted a challenge and took off towards the crowd, ready to stand against the legion.

It took the first death to snap me out of my daze. Aldra's arms were seized in the midst of her spinning and torn off before she was hacked to pieces by shadows. I realized that they wouldn't win against the Torcals unless I stepped in. And even then...

But I would not let them die again. I stepped forward and brought my foot crashing down on the earth to make the ground quake violently. Spires of rock rose in the midst of the Torcals, spearing several of them before exploding to take out more. I slid my foot forward and the bloody ground turned to mud as it slurped down more enemies.

The Torcals screamed and I knew I had been identified as a target. Zair was nowhere in sight, having taken the chance the run the moment he could make his escape. I didn't care, as long as he didn't get in the way of saving my friends.

The staff formed a hook on the end and I stepped into the rush, obliterating the ground around me in a tidal wave of stone walls that rose from the ground. Sand spun in screaming whirlwinds, shredding whatever entered them. And the quake never stopped, the Torcals finding their balance tenuous at best.

But as many as I slew, more rushed my friends. Two more fell silently, swallowed up by the horde and released in a fountain of gore. Now only Samuel and Malek remained, the latter glowing from a flame shield and the former smoothly evading capture in the middle of a crowd while cutting them up.

Finally, the Torcals ceased moving forward. But in the next instant they converged into one form. A massive Torcal who towered above all the others they'd seen. His muscles rippled and eyes shone turquoise to accent the silver runes on his flesh. He was armored with a black breastplate and chainmail leggings, and armed with a grisly scythe.

"Enemies of the Torcal empire!" bellowed the shadow man. "Cease your slaughter of our people and fight me, if you think you can even scratch a general's armor."

"You do not stand alone Vase!" A black mist flowed next to Vase before materializing into the form of Zair. "Destroy those two," he said before pointing at me. "This one is mine."

Vase hefted his scythe with one hand, and swiftly turned to deliver a crushing punch to Zair's shoulder, bone splintering under his fist.

Zair's weapon dissipated back into shadows as his surprise at the attack overcame his ability to condense. "Vase? Wha--"

Vase gripped Zair by the neck and lifted him up, angling the tip of his scythe for where he knew the primary heart was located. "I do not serve a traitorous Emperor! You failed to save your people. Die in atonement. That is the future I have seen."

Zair made no move to defend himself. "But--I--no...Vase...failed...forgive--"

I don't know when the knockout gas had started, but I felt the purity of the air become polluted and one by one, Torcal and human fell to the ground. I remained standing, though whether it was by virtue of being spared or it was unable to affect me, I didn't know.

Zair twitched on the ground, his bravado completely gone as he whispered unheard words to the world. An instant later a needle flew from one of the buildings and his eyes closed. My heart skipped a beat at what appeared to be death, but even as I watched his chest rose and fell in quiet breathing.

"There we go. Now we're all alone, character. Get ready, because here I come. And this time, you aren't escaping from the nightmare by waking up."

The rain began and my blood ran cold.

The ruined Torcal buildings were veiled behind the downfall, hiding the alien architecture and bidding the nightmare to rise in my mind. I stepped back and felt a stone dias that had not been there before. Zair lay a ways off, and I was certain he would be spared from this so long as he was incapacitated. I had been facing my nightmares and his for a while now, had I truly been so foolish as to not expect this one to manifest?

There was no running. I jumped onto the dias and waited. Five seconds later, the wait ended.

She appeared from the curtain of water, dripping with slime that hissed and ate away at the ground. Her form was that of a child, although children do not normally carry curved swords with grooves and notches that glistened with poison. And finally, I laid eyes on the pink skull emblem on her shirt, winking at me in what would be a coy gesture had it not been on the thing I feared the most. Anathema she had called herself when we had first met.

The fear came instantly, locking my movement and dulling my senses. I knew this was a dream, and that everything up to now had not affected me in the real world. But something felt incredibly wrong about the girl this time. With some dread I noted that this feeling came from the strange power the one who called himself Writer had taught me to suppress. The fact that it was acting up did not bode well for me. Apparently Anathema was more than a rogue character as I had surmised ever since our first encounter. She was more, something dangerous, and something I could not fight on my own.

Wait. In my dreams I had fought alongside Samuel. We lost every time, but this was different. Now I knew this was a dream, and that was enough to give me some hope.

"Samuel!" I said, turning to look at my friend. "Let's take her d--"

No one stood beside me. I looked behind and saw nothing. The only person in sight was Anathema, laughing uproariously, the sound drowned out by the rain.

The girl grinned and snapped her fingers. The sound of the downpour ceased, but the rain did not stop. Silence reigned.

Anathema gestured at me and said, "What's the matter little character? Who are you teaming up with to defeat me? Because I see no one other than an unconscious Torcal." She flicked her sword and several emerald droplets hit the ground in front of the dias, causing me to flinch reflexively. She laughed again. "So frightened of my blood are you? Pathetic. And you think yourself a hero." She spat a black blob on the ground. "You're a coward is what you are. But I'm feeling nice today, so come on." Anathema raised her sword into a defensive position. "Come at me character. Let's see if you can force your body to stop shivering just by looking at me."

My fingers twitched, but no magic sprang from them. My breath quickened, and I forced myself to keep control of my bodily functions. Fight? How could I fight this monster? Every night I fought this nightmare, and every night I woke from her blade swinging down towards my neck.

Anathema spit a bullet of poison and hit my right arm. First there was nothing, and then blinding pain as the poison ate away at my skin. Out of sheer sense of preservation I gave my staff a bladed edge and carved out the bubbling chunk of barkflesh, watching it turn to slime before my eyes.

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Alexander's Room

The ones assigned to observe Alexander had been bored for quite a while now. Some minor outbursts here and there, but nothing major.

The smell of decaying flesh hit their nostrils and they turned to see sap-blood spurt from a previously non-existent wound. With wide eyes they took note of this phenomena, of dream injuries translating to reality.

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Dream

Run. That was the primary thought in my mind. But where to? Her poison had laid Zair low with a single needle, and I doubted she'd be so kind to me. Even if this was a dream, the pain from my injury felt completely real. The water concealed every form of cover, and I knew she was capable of melting even stone, so my staff wasn't going to be much use.

I'm going to die, became the mantra in my mind as she advanced. I'm going to die and I can't do a thing to her. Night after night, I stood on this dias in the rain, feeling the cold chill of the water running down my skin, sapping my strength and hindering my...

Wait. I didn't feel weak and tired at all. On the contrary, I felt like I could tear metal apart with my bare hands before folding it into an origami sculpture. But why?

And then it dawned on me. A chance to defeat this poisonous girl. Something I hadn't had when we first met, something I had taken for granted until now.

I pulled off my coat and shirt, exposing my torso to the rain. Anathema tilted her head and said, "What are you doing? Getting naked before death?"

I didn't answer her. To her eyes, I stood shirtless in the rain. To me, I felt the water permeate my tree-like body, infusing my muscles with strength anew. I would lay her low in one punch, one strike before she even knew what I was capable of. That would be the one way to penetrate her defense.

Anathema licked her blade, green bile filling the notches of the sword. "Fine. Die like an Unwritten and fade away into nothingness. You die here, you die in real life." She dashed forward and thrust.

I spun and dodged the sword swipe. I braced my feet against the mud, drew as much power as I could from the earth and water, and sank my fist deep into Anathema's gut with enough force to crush a boulder into gravel. I felt organs pop and her lungs deflate as air and blood were driven out of her mouth from the blow even as she arced backwards and splashed into the mud.

She coughed and gagged, struggling to get to her feet. Her cheeks bulged and she vomited a colorful stream onto the ground that hissed and smoked. She coughed more and proceeded to throw up again, blood mixed in to the bile. Only after she had fully emptied her stores of poison did she collapsed on her belly, hissing in pain and anger at being laid low.

I stared contemptuously at the girl, my muscles strengthening as I kept absorbing more water. "I will end this now Anathema," I said, walking towards the prone poison-maker. "I will crush you and avenge my world."

Anathema coughed and giggled. "You? End me?" She took a deep gulp of air and shouted in a voice that shook the dreamworld at its core, "A character thinks they can end me with a lucky shot? Oh, that was a good one, shame I'm a little more than some girl."

Power built around the girl. In an instant her wound vanished and she began to breathe normally. She got to her feet and fixed me with a look that froze me in place. I no longer looked into the eyes of a terrifying girl, but something vast and powerful, beyond even the force of an Author. She cackled at me. "I am much, much more than a mere character like you. I am not some dream construct to be cast aside. Know my name and see your end." She knelt and placed her hand on the ground. In the next instant I yelled in pain as the puddling water became caustic from the now acid rain. The mud sloughed with countless toxins as the land itself was corrupted in the next breath. "I am the poison that eats away at everything! I am Jeal--"

"Well I think that's enough of that."

The rain stopped and both Anathema and I stood still for several moments in obvious confusion. The water purified itself and green broke through the blighted ground. The dias rose up and became a large boulder with numerous pits and slopes, some big enough for one to sit in comfortably. Where there had been a toxic battlefield was now a serene meadow.

Anathema scowled and looked at the top of the rock. "You took your sweet time."

I turned around and saw a figure descending the stone with light hops. When he touched the ground he looked at me, and even in the dim light of the moon I knew that face. "Samuel..." I said in a shocked whisper.

Samuel nodded at me and looked at Anathema. "I was planning on watching a little longer, but then you started to lose control. I asked you to gauge him, not slaughter him." He looked at Zair, who was beginning to stir in the grass. "You also would have gotten the Emperor involved in your personal grudge."

Anathema scowled harder and scuffed the ground with her foot. "He crushed my internal organs," she muttered in the same tone as a child making excuses to an adult for their actions.

"Which isn't nearly as fatal for you as most. Suck it up." Samuel looked at me and grinned. "Long time no see."

I shook my head. "This is just a dream again. You're not real."

"Well that's rude, telling me I'm not real when I'm right here." Samuel gestured to his side and pulled a watch from thin air. He looked at it and sighed. "Unfortunately I don't have the time to debate my existence with you, nor do I think you'd want to considering your opponent is waking up from his nap. You really should thank Anathema for putting him to sleep, he was close to becoming completely unhinged. A good nap and knowledge that THIS IS A DREAM," he yelled to the groggy Zair before turning back to Alexander. "Should stabilize him so he doesn't go, as they say, nucking futs."

I stared blankly.

Samuel sighed again. "Okay, we'll get out of your hair so you and the Torcal can get to beating each other's face in. I have to say I'm very disappointed Alexander. You haven't used your gift at all despite fighting your literal worst nightmare. Then again, you won without it, so that's praiseworthy as well. But we can talk another time, just not with an unaware character in the vicinity. Now, for my final bit of business." He extended his hand palm up to Alexander. "I'd like my hat back please, I daresay you've held on to it long enough."

My hand instinctively went to the fedora. "This is yours?"

"Yes, it is. I could tell you how you came to have it, but not here and not now. Now I'd like it back so you can get on with the plot." He snapped his fingers and the hat leapt off my head and zipped straight to his. He adjusted it and flicked the brim with his finger. "Much better. Nothing like the full ensemble. Well we'd best be off. Come on Anathema."

Anathema glared at me and said, "When next we meet, it won't be on your home ground. Then, I will show you how weak you really are." She vanished from in front of me and reappeared next to Samuel, muttering something under her breath. Samuel gestured to his side and a silver tear appeared in the dream. Anathema stepped through and Samuel made to follow.

"Wait!" I yelled, finally overcoming the shock of seeing the friend I had given up for dead. "Samuel, what's going on? Why are you with Anathema? She destroyed our world!"

Samuel stopped and slowly turned around, a look of genuine pity on his face. "No, Alexander. While she may have slain one of the Guardians, she is not the reason Eksha died. You are." He stepped through and closed the portal, leaving me to once again be stunned by that bit of information.

Zair groaned and sat up as the rain ceased to fall.

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THIS BIT IS INCOMPLETE. SORRY. Imagine Alexander and Zair discussing their reasons for entering this tournament and Alexander resolving to fix what he perceives to be his mistake. I mean, when you're told you are the reason an entire world blew up you sort of feel like you need to make amends.
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"We can fight, but I find it likely that would serve little purpose." I gestured to the world. "This is a dream. Our dream. Should we fight, it wouldn't end. How do you propose to conquer me when I literally have unlimited power at my fingertips? And how can I defeat you when the very world could become your shadows?"

Zair thought for a while. I was right, he realized. In a world molded by our desires and needs, a duel would be unending. But he couldn't let me walk away unscathed, not when he needed to be the victor. There had to be a method to gain victory.

"There is a way," said Zair suddenly, fixing me with his cold eyes. "One strike. That is all we get, performed simultaneously. Whoever's attack fails is the loser." The grisly scythe manifested in his hands. "Interested? Because I do not intend to allow you to leave. Not when that may bring about a draw. Victory is the one acceptable outcome."

I looked at the scythe and then at my staff. "I accept," I said with a sigh." I looked up at the dead Eksha in the sky, its moon circling the planet in a doomed spiral. "Forgive me," I whispered. "If I am truly the one at fault for ending you, then it will be my oath to restore you."

Zair drew his scythe back and the shadows sprang from nothing. "On the count of three," he said, tightening his grip on the scythe.

I closed my eyes and leaned on my staff. "One."

The shadows around Zair clung to the scythe, growing and lengthening into a colossal, planet-cleaving blade of darkness that filled the sky. "Two."

I glowed with power and opened shining eyes, my staff shuddering with the pull of intense magic. "Three."

The scythe swung with enough force to carve the sky asunder. Eksha plummeted towards the earth, a blazing inferno building around it from the friction of the atmosphere. The blade bit deeply into the falling planet, shuddering as it slowed the world's fall. We locked eyes for a moment before we both poured everything we had into our strikes.

Zair's shadows flared and formed a colossal claw at the tip of the scythe to clutch the falling world in its grip. Zair gave a booming laugh in triumph. "I win!"

I smiled weakly. "No. You haven't stopped my attack."

Zair felt the scythe being pushed and looked up in horror at the rapidly approaching planet. No, that was wrong he realized. Eksha remained still in the sky, grimly awaiting its fate as Tzanjeira below his feet sped towards imminent collision.

"No," the Torcal whispered, the gargantuan scythe fading away as his fear and horror overcame willpower at the realization of his planet's inevitable destruction. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I sighed. "A dream is a dream, and what's done is done." I tightened my grip on the staff and resolved my will. The planet beneath our feet picked up speed and I looked up at the rapidly-approaching chaos of Eksha, now close enough to see the surface raging with every element of magic unbound. "This is my answer to your question Zair! This is my reason to succeed in this tournament! I will claim the prize and restore Eksha so my horrid destiny may be blotted out. I now have a purpose in this world, and no one will stop me from fulfilling it. I was once a hero, but I am a hero no longer."

The two surfaces touched, the dream exploded, and I woke up.

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I instinctively reached for my fedora, but found nothing atop my head. I sat up and tore back the covers before beckoning my staff to me. I stomped out of the room and down the halls towards the training areas. Relaxation was no longer an option for me. How could I flounce about as I had been doing when the lives of an entire world were relying on me to restore them? I would find the truth behind it one day, but right now, I only had one purpose.

Victory in this tournament at all costs. Samuel, Anathema, I'm coming for you.