Zero Point: Chapter 7- The Spirit World
#8 of Zero Point
Chapter 7: The Spirit World.
The colors and disorienting spinning subsided, and Krystal was now standing somewhere.. outside. The first thing she noticed was that it was raining; huge drops of it pelting her fur as if she had emerged into a great storm... which she had. The rain soaked into her fur as well as the clothing she had taken from the Humvee... thankfully the human stuff was at least a little water resistant. A little bit of worry crossed her mind at the rifle she carried getting wet, but Brian hadn't mentioned anything about keeping it out of the elements. She decided to concentrate on her surroundings, but a tug at her mind interrupted her.
The voice of the Warpstone spoke to her... it too was capable of telepathic communication. "I cannae keep this link with you inside the Palace. If you run intae something you cannae handle, run bac' outside. I cannae warp ye from inside the building... too much of a risk for ye tae be hurt." Krystal nodded and gave the Warpstone a quick expression of thanks, but she did have a job to do. Her mind freed, she glanced at the oddly familiar architecture.
The building looked so similar to a Spirit Monument on Cerinia that she had to blink to make sure she wasn't experiencing a vision. The grayish stone and dome-topped turrets provided an eerie similarity to the Monuments that used to stand on her homeworld. There were subtle differences in both the architecture and the layout, but seeing the Palace brought back memories of home. Krystal had to push those aside; she couldn't let bittersweet memories get in the way.
The vixen glanced around the platform she was on. There had obviously been some sort of battle here; black scorch marks lined the area as well as a few areas that blood hadn't been completely washed away by the rain. Scales had gotten here before she did, then. This unnerved her, but she needed to press on. Any Earthwalker she came across would need her help.
Krystal peered around with her senses, managing to make out a few thought patterns. Some strange, lingering presence made it slightly difficult to trace them, but the fact that they weren't sentient made her a little nervous. A chittering sound echoed from the stone, and she then came face to face with her first adversaries.
Two bulbous forms drifted in the air, propelled by the magical energies which sustained them. Krystal knew what these were. Wraiths. They were uncommon beasts on Cerinia, but that did not make them any less dangerous. The creatures had masses of tentacles underneath their bodies, which they used to ensnare, poison, and then consume their victims. All young Cerinians were told tales of the Wraiths. Survivors of their attacks told of the painful, paralyzing venom they produced, and described the screams of unfortunate comrades that had been taken by one.
Krystal wasn't going to be taken... was not going to be food for a beast that should not be on Sauria. She briefly thought about testing the rifle against them but decided not to; she pulled out her staff and extended it in her paws. Yet as she was going to expend her staff's magical reserves against the Wraiths, something jumped out at her out of the corner of her eye.
A set of barrels lay to her right, stacked there for some sort of purpose. The looked heavy, and if she could hit one with a well-placed throw it might knock it down. That was their weak point; if they were knocked to the ground they could not get back up. She wouldn't have to expend her finite staff energy or the equally finite ammunition she had for Brian's rifle, either.
The chittering Wraiths cut her investigation short. The beasts started to converge on her, and she had to act before she suffered a painful death. Gritting her teeth, Krystal dropped her staff grabbed one of the barrels. It was quite heavy and full of some sort of liquid, and it was about all she could do to toss it in the general direction of her enemies.
The barrel slammed into the ground right in front of the beasts... and exploded. The blast deafened her as well as produced momentary blindness with a flash of orange light. The shock wave came and knocked her off her feet, sending her to the ground as if the hand of Melos had pushed her. A muffled groan came from her lips as the wind was knocked out of her, and she struggled to get up.
The Wraiths had been consumed by the explosion; the translucent pink material that made up their bodies splattered around the platform. The rain had already started the work of washing it away, but the sight of the beasts' gore was still sickening to her.
Krystal sat up, trying to regain her breath. She was hurt, cold, soaking wet... and in no shape to repeat that performance. Yet, she also had a job to do. The remainder of the stack of barrels would at least be another line of defense, at least if she could get out of the explosion's range next time. She picked her staff back up and looked down to the right; seeing that there was a set of stairs leading to what looked to be an entrance to the Palace. It was the logical way to go.
As she padded down the stairs the vixen noticed something was amiss. Something had happened; more than likely a massive explosion. Pillars and columns were strewn all around and the massive double doors leading in were blocked off by debris. This didn't look good. Krystal also noticed the body of an Earthwalker in front of the rubble; her heart went cold when she saw what had happened. The poor dinosaur had been trying to escape when whatever had caused the damage hit the building. She forced back tears and continued forward, looking at the rubble.
There was a lot of debris but it was loosely packed; her staff should be able to take care of it. Taking a deep breath she placed it against the ground... sending the mental command to perform a ground quake.
The staff pulsed in her hands, sending out a large shockwave. The entire building trembled imperceptibly as the Cerinian instrument did its work, sending chunks of marble and stone all around. The doors had been blasted off their hinges earlier, and the staff had made an opening large enough for her to crawl in... at the cost of a good chunk of its energy.
Krystal squeezed into the Palace, noting that while its exterior looked like a Spirit Monument, its interior was completely different. A hallway led off to the right, constructed of ruddy red stone; torches lined the walls. Another soft chittering noise echoing off the walls announced the presence of another Wraith. She wasn't about to grab another explosive barrel, so it was either her staff or the rifle. Knowing that the ground quake had taken almost a quarter of her staff's reserves, she opted for the M4.
Pulling the human weapon off her back, Krystal recalled Brian's lesson. Her thumb flicked the selector switch to the fire position and she tucked it against her shoulder. Knowing that Brian's pistol had not been the easiest to shoot, she steeled herself for its kick while waiting for the creature to make its appearance.
She didn't have to wait long. Hearing the sound of prey, the Wraith rounded a corner. It would ensnare its next meal, which would sate it for quite some time. Quivering in anticipation, its sensory organs detected heat ahead... a stationary yet live object. This was akin to being served a steak on a silver platter.
Krystal grit her teeth as she pulled the M4's trigger. Its sharp, horrendously loud crack bounced off the nearby walls, sending a spike of pain into her sensitive ears. However, the recoil was almost nonexistent and she was still sighted on the Wraith. The creature was trying to keep up off the floor, translucent pink fluid dripping from the hole she had blown clean through it... but it still kept drifting toward her. Her finger tensed on the weapon's trigger again, and the M4 barked its ear-splitting report into the Palace once more.
This time the Wraith dropped to the ground while writhing and wriggling its body like a dying wasp, trying to ensnare its prey with its death throes. Tentacles loaded with lethal neurotoxins lashed out at Krystal, who wisely jumped back with a surprised gasp. The Wraith twitched for a few moments and then became still... causing the vixen to breathe a sigh of relief. She had never dreamed of coming across a Wraith... let alone besting three of them.
She cautiously crept forward, hearing the gentle whoosh of a flame around a corner. The vixen turned to face an obvious intruder deterrent... a set of flame jets set into the hallway ahead of her. They were of various heights and remained constantly on. Her goal, a large room just past the sloping hall, beckoned. There had to be a way to get past these.
An idea came to Krystal's mind, and she gave a wry smirk to the challenge ahead of her. The carbine was exchanged for her staff once more. While the human weapon packed a punch as well as a sonic assault, the traditional Guardian weapon could do so much more than punch holes through an enemy. Her thoughts switched the staff to its ice blast mode, smiling as she saw its tip starting to cover itself with frost.
With a grin she pointed the staff to the source of the flame; a well-scorched grate set into the wall. The staff fired a burst of freezing mist, and the flame halted almost immediately. "Brian would be picking his jaw up off the floor if he saw this." The vixen giggled as she set to work, wondering about her new friend and how he was handling the task of saving the Queen's son.
The flame jets were made short work of by her ice blaster... which was much more efficient than the ground quake she had used earlier. Krystal inched forward down the hallway, snuffing any flame she saw like a maverick firefighter. Once she reached the room at the end, she paused... her ears perking at the familiarity of the place.
The large chamber she found herself in seemed to be some sort of temple. Arched ceilings nearly one hundred feet tall made her feel tiny compared to it... a doorway off to her left was nearly that entire height. The temple was meant to accommodate some very big creatures. The floors were comprised of some sort of black marble, and crimson wall hangings extended nearly floor to ceiling. This was a place of great importance to someone, and it looked eerily similar to a Spirit Monument.
To her right, opposite the doorway, sat a statue that reached the entire height of the temple chamber. It was of an impossibly tall, robed figure with strange, alien facial features. Glowing sapphire eyes and a jewel sitting above them completed the ensemble. She noticed that the placement of the jewel was almost identical to the circlet she wore... another strange coincidence.
"Melos knows how Sauria has so many parallels with Cerinia..." Krystal mused, turning towards the exit and what lay beyond. Her mind was occupied with what had been happening... the entire Palace reeked of energy. The fact her telepathic abilities seemed sluggish and unresponsive was also alarming... the vixen would have to find her own way without their help. That wasn't something she liked to think about, but she crept into the next chamber.
The place was gilt in much the same décor, black marble floors and tapestries. It was about as large as the other room, but there was actually someone present. A large Earthwalker lay on the floor, blood staining the black marble underneath. Krystal winced as she rushed up to him; a multitude of slashes and stab wounds marred his frame. Her abilities were truly being suppressed by the strange presence; she should have felt the Earthwalker's thought patterns as soon as she stepped inside the Palace.
She knelt down and placed a paw on the mortally wounded dinosaur's snout. "A...are you okay?" she ventured. "Please... I will do anything I can to help." At the very least she could use her calming techniques to ease its pain; she was aware that the Earthwalker's injuries were too severe to be treated. This caused a pang of sorrow to build from within, She had sworn to protect the lives of others, and thus far she hadn't been all that successful.
"Save.... your strength, young one." The Earthwalker replied in a strained voice. "The Krazoa... need your help. They are... dying." The Saurian took a few heaving breaths and continued. "General Scales... attacked this sacred Palace... He was looking for the Krazoa... Spirit."
Krystal was about to respond but the Saurian was determined to let her know what was happening, even if it was with his dying breaths. "He did not... obtain it. He has awakened... something evil... in the Palace. Please... take the trials. Obtain the... Krazoa Spirit from the... shrine and take it to the... Collection Jewel. If you do not... the planet will die with them."
"I will do it... I swear to you." A tear formed at the corner of her eye as she sensed the Earthwalker's thought patterns fading away. Once again she recalled Cerinia... she would not let anyone else pass to the Beyond needlessly... not on her watch. The vixen stood up, the fires of determination burning in her emerald eyes as she spotted a small altar tucked away in a nearby alcove. The sheer energy radiating from it, even through the malicious presence she felt all around her, told Krystal that this was where she needed to go. Without a second thought she strode to the platform and stepped upon it... a flash of white light enveloping her as she did so.
When she blinked, she found herself in a completely different place. A tall shaft rose above her to a dizzying height... leading to what looked to be a hallway nearly one hundred feet above her. A sturdy wooden ladder bridged the gap, and there was only one way but up. Taking a deep breath she attacked the ladder, rushing up it with renewed vigor. Whatever evil presence lingered the building did not affect the shrine she was in... she could clearly feel the calming presence of this Krazoa Spirit. It beckoned to her urgently, touching her mind. The sensation was amplified due to her abilities as a Channeler, and considering this was the first time she encountered a spirit of this... power, she was a little nervous.
Krystal pulled herself up into the hallway. It was fairly narrow, but allowed her at least a bit of room to maneuver. She was about to cross a series of grates embedded in the floor, yet at the last moment jets of fire shot upward; the flames almost singed her fur and she had to back away from the intense heat. As suddenly as they appeared the flame jets shut off, and the vixen took her chance; dashing across the grates as quickly as she could. The whoosh of flame and the heat on her back told her she had passed one test.
The next one would be a bit more difficult. Several yards down the hallway featured a pit nearly ten feet deep... it would have housed a decent-sized swimming pool had it not been empty. Or, rather... not completely empty. The chittering profile of a Wraith drifted within, its tentacles wiggling around in search for prey... namely the Cerinian vixen who stood above it. This would have been a problem... if she was unarmed.
With a grin she pulled her staff out of her utility belt, once again extending it in her paws, visualizing the fire blaster function in her weapon to do the work. A small amount of heat flared around the staff's business end, signaling it was ready for business... yet a faint pulsing in her paws warned her that its energy reserves were almost depleted.
Taking a deep breath, Krystal fired the blaster. A ball of flame lanced out and smacked into the Wraith, the flames consuming some of its tentacles. Yet the beast kept coming, and the vixen had to leap back in order not to get snagged by its attempts to reach her. It was floating out of the pit, and trying to strike back. Krystal shot it a second time, sending it tumbling down to the floor in a gelatinous mass.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she leaped from the top of the pit; missing the dying Wraith's thrashing body by tucking her body into a roll. The weight of the human rifle threw her off, but not by much. There was a ladder at each end of the pit, and a short climb later she was back into the hallway. There wasn't much farther to go until she made it into the main room of the shrine. It was as big as a Kokli stadium; a Cerinian sport played by scoring goals with a small handball. The room was decorated with huge ornate pillars as well as a moat; it felt serene and calm.
The Krazoa Spirit resided in the middle of the room, a ghostly apparition which looked exactly like the strange statues all over the Palace. The spirit once again beckoned to her, its voice gently caressing her mind with a calm air. "Do not be afraid, Guardian. Come closer."
The vixen slowly made her way over to the spirit, looking it over. She decided to actually speak, as it was polite to do so when performing duties as a Channeler. "I have come to the aid of the Earthwalker Tribe, Noble One. What do you wish of me?"
"You hold much kindness and compassion in your heart, young Guardian. However, the road to saving our planet will be long and fraught with danger. You, however, are not alone... your strange companion has skills you lack, and you have skills he lacks."
"I understand, Noble One. What must we do to help save Sauria?" She knew spirits usually spoke in cryptic riddles... this one was being surprisingly clear, even with its dodging her questions.
"The way will be revealed to you in time. For now... learn from each other. Keep each other safe. Since Scales and his band of Sharpclaw took power over the planet, this has become a very dangerous place. United, you and your friend will stand against their threat. Divided... you both shall fall. Prepare yourself, Cerinian."
The spirit's words were confusing, and a small feeling of nervousness clawed at a deep recess of her mind. 'Divided... you both shall fall.' They were separated... would they be in danger? A strange expression planted itself on her features as six tall wicker baskets materialized within the room. The spirit hovered over one of them, its voice pressing into her mind once more. "This is the Test of Observation. I will hide in one of these baskets, and shall move all of them. If you succeed in finding me three times... I will allow you to escort me to the Palace altar. If you fail... you shall not. Are you prepared?"
_ _ When she nodded, the spirit silently floated into one of the baskets. As if they were possessed, all of the containers silently glided across the floor. Her emerald eyes kept locked onto the one it had chosen like a hawk. When they stopped, she simply strode towards it and lifted the top; the ethereal being floated out, neither giving any sign of encouragement or disapproval.
The process completed twice more, the Cerinian able to keep track of the specified basket even though the Krazoa tried to lose her in a complex dance of twirling wicker. When she selected the correct container for the final time, the spirit hovered before her. "You have done well. You are worthy of carrying me to the Altar. This may be unpleasant, so be prepared."
The Krazoa rushed forward at impossible speed, slamming into her chest with what would have been the force of a speeding truck. A brief burst of pain flared throughout her body, and she felt herself leave the ground... a bright light enveloping her sight.
When she blinked, she had returned to the main chamber in the Palace. Krystal cringed when she saw the body of the helpful Earthwalker a second time, although the presence of the Krazoa actually... calmed her thoughts.
As she took a deep breath, the silent spirit residing in her body directed her actions. Her head turned towards a platform similar to the one she had used to teleport to the Krazoa shrine. The spirit was obviously directing her to go there, so she did.
Once she stepped onto the platform, there was no flash of lights, no nauseating sensation of falling as she was teleported somewhere else. The platform simply rose upwards like an elevator and a section of the chamber's wall faded away; a secret door into the rest of the Palace, she assumed.
The platform led into a short hallway, branching off at another larger corridor. The strange, malicious presence lingered in her mind... she felt almost blinded by it. Clenching her staff tightly, the vixen strode into the hall.
One end of the hall was blocked off by some sort of rippling force field; the other housed a large, bas-relief statue of a Krazoa. Once again it radiated an immense amount of energy... coming through to her senses even with the strange, evil presence that shrouded everything like a thick, dark cloak.
The large, hulking figure stood next to a nearby pillar... biding its time. The furred whelp had actually recovered the Krazoa, and was about to return it to the shrine. The optical camouflage unit that had belonged to a hapless Cornerian trader was on his belt and running... with whatever had befallen the palace doing its strange mental tricks she wouldn't be able to sense him. The cloaked figure grinned. The one he was stalking was one of a few beings in the system who might be able to resurrect the Krazoa God... the one who had spoken to him; the one who would give him power to rule when it was freed.
The Cerinian approached the Krazoa altar and knelt. He was familiar with the ritual; the pain caused by the Krazoa ripping itself from a sentient consciousness wasn't pleasant, and would give him time to make sure she was going to be placed inside the Collection Jewel. Whenever all the Krazoa Spirits were gathered, they would unwittingly consume her. She would die in the process, but her attempts to channel the Krazoa to get out of her plight would only cause them to free their banished God.
There was a brief moan of pain, and the Krazoa was freed... flowing into the altar just like he knew it would. The Krazoa carving on the wall began to react; the eyes and mouth of the statue opening and firing a large, purple beam toward the Jewel. This was his chance, and he had to act. Swiftly he popped out from cover, but the Cerinian somehow sensed him. She pulled out the first thing she could reach; a strange-looking weapon he had never seen before.
The cloaked figure made a grab for her throat with his right hand... the only one he had. She countered with a vicious swat to the blurry appendage, knocking it out of the way. With the hand knocked out of the way, the Cerinian female used it in its intended manner. The weapon's report rattled the chamber, and the figure felt pain shoot up and down his thigh. The optical generator was hit by whatever the weapon had shot, shorting it out in a flurry of sparks. The pain enraged him; General Scales was now pissed.
"You insolent bitch!" he roared. The leader of the Sharpclaw tribe had one major weakness.. his temper was very short and his patience was non-existent. Even though the being that shot him was the linchpin to his plans, what she had done had hurt. And, as a result, she was going to pay. With a growl that most sentient beings couldn't reproduce, he swiped at her with his left arm, and the wickedly curved blades that were mounted on the stump of his wrist were directed at cutting her in half.
The only thing that saved her from getting cut in half was the alien weapon; she had thrust it up to block the blow. The rifle physically bent and cracked under the sheer amount of force Scales put into the strike. Even though the firearm blocked it, it was sent flying out of her paws... and the blades continued. The familiar sensation of his armblades sinking into soft, unprotected flesh greeted the Sharpclaw general, and the cry of agony that was ripped from his opponent was even more satisfying.
As he withdrew the blades, he noticed that they had only sunk in a few inches; the Cerinian sporting two profusely bleeding gashes down her side. She fell to the ground, her paws scrabbling for something else hanging at her waist.
"Still struggling? Here, let me help that!" Scales tried to grab her once more... bleeding or not, his window of opportunity with the collection beam was diminishing. However, she had other plans... a staff of some sort extended in her paws, a faint blue energy shield stopping his hand as it tried to close in on her. With another growl he delivered a backhand swipe, but the shield actually pushed him away... sending the Sharpclaw chief to the ground.
The Cerinian used this time to push to her feet, her expression rife with pain. She coughed, not noticing the little trickle of blood that flowed from her lips as she did so. "I know... what you're trying to do." she rasped, backing away from Scales. As he got up, she picked up speed... holding her staff in front of her.
"You will not get far." Scales growled, starting after her. She continued to back up, out of the hallway and onto a large balcony that encircled the chamber the Collection Jewel was housed in. With a bit of dismay he noticed that the jewel had already been powered, and was levitating towards the roof of the Palace... one Krazoa spirit had already been stored.
"I... might not." the Cerinian reached the end of the balcony... the floor below as at least two hundred feet down. Fear filled her heart, but if she had to in order to keep the monster's paws off of her, she would. "But... you won't use... me for your purposes... either." She coughed again, more blood flowing from her muzzle. An expression of dread crossed her features as she saw the tall beast closing in on her... all nine feet of angry Sharpclaw. She had no choice. It was either do it, or die along with Sauria. Closing her eyes, she took a step backward into empty space.
"Damn it!" Scales roared as the Cerinian simply stepped off the balcony. He was still in the hallway, and it took him a few seconds to reach the edge. Peering down he saw the form of the furred alien on the bottom of the massive chamber, sprawled and unmoving. It took serious resolve to kill oneself in such a manner... and he was now back to square one. Growling and cursing in his native tongue, the Sharpclaw leader turned around and left the dead Cerinian to her final fate.
Krystal's body lay at the bottom of the chamber, her paw still weakly grasping onto her staff. The force of the fall would have been easily enough to kill her, but the last of the staff's reserves gave her just enough of a shield to survive. She wasn't quite knocked unconscious, but she was in enough of a daze to just lay there. The pain of the wounds the Sharpclaw chief started to numb, and an unsettling feeling of cold closed in. When she coughed again, the unmistakable taste of blood washed over her tongue... she was seriously hurt.
The darkness washed over her before she had a chance to do anything... her already stressed body shutting down, frantically trying to heal itself before it was too late.