Zion: Light of the New Moon, Myre's Post Milestone
Zion - Light of the New Moon
Myre Transition
There was a distinct moment when Anor-Roc realized that he had to do something or risk the safety of the caravan. What happens when he chooses to sacrifice himself, Valda, and little Agnes for the sake of so many others?
Anor-Roc waited impatiently at the stairway, "Come on... come on..." he murmured to himself, holding his diamond-tipped staff with both his paws. All of the summoner's animals were there, each focused on the sounds of combat rising up from further down the hallway.
"I always hated guard duty." the apparition at his side said. The spectral wolf was seated with his back leaning against the wall. Some part in the back of Anor-Roc's mind recalled that the true difference between a ghost and a spirit was that spirits still had to conform to reality while ghosts could pass right through physical objects.
"This isn't guard duty." the coy-wolf responded to the spirit, eager to get his mind back on track.
The translucent wolf chuckled and stood up, "You're making sure the stairway remains open and safe... that's guard duty."
"Why are you still here, Father?" Anor-Rock asked, "I sent you with Josh." The summoner's animals didn't bother paying attention to the argument; they were used to the discussions.
"And I'm a little curious about why you chose to do that, Son." the wolf commented, adjusting the visor on his spectral helm.
"Because I didn't want to be having one of these discussions right now." the coy-wolf growled, his grip on his staff tightening as the sounds of combat grew closer.
"I'm joined to you, 'Roc... not some piece of silver. YOU'RE the reason I haven't left this world." the wolf explained, resting a paw on Anor-Roc's shoulder.
"You were just the spirit that answered the summons... it's a coincidence." the summoner stated.
The ghostly wolf laughed, "There aren't coincidences in magic, 'Roc... and you wouldn't BELIEVE the size of the spirit wolf I had to fight off so I could answer that summon."
Anor-Roc turned and regarded the spirit, who wore one of the largest smirks he'd ever seen on him, "You're dead, but your humor hasn't changed." the coy-wolf pointed out.
"Humor brings joy to life AND unlife, I suppose." the wolf answered with a grin, then glanced down the hall, "And it looks like the waiting's over, 'Roc..." he motioned in that direction, calling Anor-Roc's attention to three guards moving quickly, backs to him as they came his direction, apparently more focused on what was coming after them.
"Hey!" Anor-Roc hailed; he recognized those soldiers as the ones under Captain Cymbeline's command.
One of them glanced back toward him; it was the lizard, "Get down the stairs!" he ordered... but, a moment later, he fell, a large spear protruding from his back. Anor-Roc raced toward them without hesitation.
"Other way!" the larger of the two remaining guards announced, and they continued their backward retreat toward the coy-wolf.
"You should listen to them, 'Roc." noted the spectral wolf at his side, but Anor-Roc ignored all of them... especially when he saw Agnes. The little girl was draped across the big guard's shoulder; blood was leaking down the outside of his breast plate and it was readily obvious that it was hers.
"What happened?" the coy-wolf demanded, reaching them. He quickly pulled the girl away from the guard, who gave no qualms about handing her over, "Where's Valda?"
"The squirrel is gone." stated the large guard. Anor-Roc, much closer at that point, realized that the bison wasn't as unharmed as he had first thought; there was a large dent in the guard's helm, and it appeared that one of his horns had broken off. The other guard motioned for the bison to fall back and then jammed his shield into the ground between two blocks of stone. He knelt behind it, and drew a bow, just in time for a dozen warriors to come pouring into the hallway; Anor-Roc actually recognized a few of them.
"There they are!" shouted hare; Lyle, Anor-Rock believed his name to be, "Kill them!" and, suddenly, the hare's name didn't matter. With Agnes over one shoulder, Anor-Roc retreated down the hall with the bison. He didn't bother looking back, hearing the sounds of charging warriors and the consistent, rhythmic twang of a bow was enough for him... it just got all the more urgent when the bow ceased following a loud metallic crunch.
"Go!' the bison ordered, turning back, "Tell the Captain the keep has fallen!"
"You have a different duty now, my boy." the wolf announced, easily keeping pace with the burdened coy-wolf, "Get back to your people."
"My duty hasn't changed." Anor-Roc grunted, "I have to get this girl to safety."
"...she's already dead, 'Roc." his father's spirit said quietly.
"No... she's alive." Anor-Roc countered, "I know she is."
"And I know she isn't." responded the spirit, "Leave the body... get back to the stairs."
"I'm bringing her down the stairs with me!" the coy-wolf snapped, and continued toward the stairway... right until a pattern on the wall shifted, and a naked chameleon pulled itself away. Anor-Roc knew her, "Juun..." he spoke her name.
"Everyone is down the stairs?" she asked, pulling a small metal ball out from behind her back, "That makes it easy."
"What are you doing?!?" the coy-wolf demanded as the chameleon licked the alchemical seal on the orb.
"What must be done." she responded, "for the glory of Tah'ave--" but the word never escaped her maw; Anor-Roc's spear crossed the distance and struck unerringly into her chest.
The coy-wolf, glowing with translucent, otherworldy energy, was little more than a humanoid-shaped aura as the spirit of his father finished assimilating into his body, "Thank you, 'Roc." another voice spoke from his muzzle.
"I couldn't have made that throw alone." Anor-Roc's voice came out of a decidedly lupine-looking muzzle as his father's spirit finished merging, leaving his body looking far more like the wolf and less like its normal form. He went to turn toward the sound of fighting, but his body didn't respond, "Hey!" he shouted... but the voice only came out in his mind, "What--"
"Sorry, 'Roc." his muzzle moved of its own volition as his father's voice came out.
"What are you doing?" Anor-Roc demanded of the spirit; he began to feel a strange sense of vertigo and his vision became blurry... but not before he saw the Death Mist cannister rupture right in front of the stairway, "I have to help them!"
"You did what you could, Son..." said his father through him, "and now I have a promise to keep too." A powerful surge of mana welled up within him... and the stairwell collapsed in on itself.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!" Anor-Roc demanded of the spirit in his own body, growing frustrated that he began to see himself in third person, as if his spirit was being displaced.
"I sealed off their chamber... now the Death Mist can't get to them." Anor-Roc's body said in his father's voice.
"But Agnes..." he began, then paused, looking where the little girl lay on the ground and, with his vision unobstructed by the limits of flesh, knew that what his father had said was true: she was already dead. He glanced to the bluish mist that began filling the hall. "Father! The Death Mist!" he warned.
"I know, 'Roc... I know." his father replied, and yet his body remained stationary.
"Well?!?!" Anor-Roc demanded.
"'Well' what?" his father countered, "You need to learn to be more patient, 'Roc."
"Give me my body back already!" the coy-wolf demanded.
"Do you really want to feel what it's like to be killed by Death Mist?" came the casual reply.
"Go back to the charm... you said you thought Josh was a cute kid... go help him be the best he can be." Anor-Roc began trying to force his way back into his body... but to no avail.
"I already told you, 'Roc... you're the real reason I'm tied to this world... once you die, I'm done." his father said, and Anor-Roc watched helplessly as his body sat down on the stone floor. The summoner stood, unable to act as his summoned creatures waded into the approaching warriors, tearing into them with all the savagery that he'd come to expect from his loyal companions... but, in the end, it wasn't his faithful followers that did the most damage; one minute past midnight a solid wall of blue fog blew through the hallway. Anor-Roc watched as the warriors gave themselves to the mist, liquefying in seconds.
Aghast, the summoner stood helplessly by as his summoned allies disintegrated, forced forever more back into their spirit forms as their charms eroded and cracked. Anor-Roc was forced to watch as his own body, inhabited by the spirit of his father, looked straight at him, "I promised that I'd be there to look out for you when it mattered, 'Roc... and it matters now." The wolf closed his eyes, "Now it's time for you to fulfill your promise."
Anor-Roc screamed out something unintelligible... he wouldn't even have been able to decipher it himself if he'd been paying enough attention. He watched as the blue mist completely obscured his vision. Somewhere deep inside he was able to tell when his body simply ceased to be and then... blackness. It wasn't a sense of weightlessness... or flying... or falling... it wasn't the blackness of closed eyes; Anor-Roc felt, for a moment, the sensation of not existing-- Death Mist destroyed everything, and left no soul to return to the Goddess. Suddenly, however, that sensation was gone.
Anor-Roc could hear muffled voices... shouts... screams... so many things that were indistinct. He didn't feel... or see or taste, per se, but he could sense. If only he could understand it. A strange feeling of disconnection washed over him and, for a moment, Anor-Roc began to panic. The sensations normally associated with that emotion strangely did not manifest; his heart didn't beat faster and his breath didn't come out laboreously-- in fact, he was not breathing and he felt no heart-beat.
Slowly, thing stopped being quite as blurry and he was able to hear the sounds without feeling like he had cotton in his ears. The coy-wolf looked around, but was startled to see that everything was in black and white. He looked down at himself; he was the exception. Anor-Roc waited as more and more came into focus-- he saw the group, even though they were blurry... he figured everyone looked to be well enough. They were standing by the Silver-Gate, which was just starting to open. People were yelling and shouting, pointing in the other direction; Anor-Roc looked.
The crumpled remains of the stairway was still settling. Roiling clouds of dust poured out of the opening, and people were gathered around the entrance to the stairway, gazing up at the blackness beyond... at his father's handiwork. Anor-Roc looke down to himself; he was also the result of his father's plan... whatever it might have been. Looking back to the group, Anor-Roc froze; they came into focus far later than anything else in the room. Once they did, however, the coy-wolf noticed something very different about one of them; Josh was in color. Even through the cub's pocket, Anor-Roc could clearly make out the glowing outline of the single charm on the bracelet he had given to the boy: it was a silver coy-wolf.
* * * * *
Well folks, here it is: the bridge between the Milestone and the first Chapter afterward.
The plot was chosen by the readers is all about Anor-Roc's final stand and just what happens before the party has a chance to step though the Silver Gate.
The Post Milestone chapters this week constitute my contributions to the character bonus for the involved Author-Contributed Characters. Since Anor-Roc was the focus of this chapter I will leave it up to the readers as to who should get the bonus credit. Character options are: Bahrla, Lady Marion, Leijh, or Cornelius.
One final note: Watch for an upcoming Journal vote regarding the expenditure of experience points-- that's coming up VERY soon!