Episode CLXX - Friends Reignited

They waited, weapons ready, for the onslaught that was about to commence.  Ellis could feel the tension, the sweat on his palms loosening his grip on his sword, the sound of blood pounding in his ears, the feel of it surging through the powerhouse of his heart, pa-pum-pa-pum-pa-pum. Quick glances to either side revealed the same, eager, ready, tense, fearful mix of emotions on the faces of his companions.  And why not?  He had beaten Lakhmaspawn before, perhaps so had the others, but this felt different - there were more of them, of that he was sure and they sounded more feral, more monstrous and much more determined.  They stood before the goalposts and that attackers did not intend to miss their shot.  This was it.

And then, without a single Lakhmaspawn appearing around the corner ahead, the terrible, inhuman screams began.

At first it was just one, distant and almost drowned out by the roars of the creatures ahead of it, but then there came another - a blood-curdling, bone-chilling, gut-melting howl that sent shivers through Ellis' muscles and filled his mind with gory, visceral and frighteningly detailed imagery.  When the next scream came he flinched, and he was not alone.

Another creature howled and another and another, until it became clear that there was a massacre occurring just out of sight.  Ellis and Siren shared a confused glance.  Should we attack? it asked, but neither seemed to know.  Another moment passed, filled with a chthonic symphony of death and ecstatic agony.  Then:

"Okay, that's enough," Siren said, sounding almost uncertain, then, more confidently, "let's remember that those awful sounds are coming from the enemy.  Whoever is doing this is an ally and we should be helping them!"

She looked to either side to be certain that everyone was with her and then, raising her sword high like the commander on some ancient field of battle, she charged ahead and Ellis was hot on her heels, eager to fight, eager to please.

What he saw when he rounded the corner, however, was almost enough to make him throw up.  It was certainly enough to make him stop in his tracks, taking a step back even to avoid the awful mess at his feet.  The corridor was a slick, blood-dimmed mess, the glowing lines of the stonework hardly visible through the greenish ichor of the Lakhmaspawn who lay in twitching, wriggling pieces on the floor.  Only a handful now remained and those were locked in ferocious battle with a Spiketail warrior, blue-white eyes burning fiercely as he clawed them to ribbons.

The sight of him sent chills down Ellis’ spine, along with a sudden memory of long dark corridors filled with fungus and slime.

"Frostfire?" Sarah asked, coming to the front of the group and staring in confused amazement at the last moments of the fight.

The final creature fell in spasmodic agony and the Spiketail – Frostfire, even the name was horribly familiar - stepped forward, barely noticing the ghastly remains his clawed feet squelched through as he came.

"It is you!" Sarah cried out, "I was sure you were dead!"

"I very nearly was," the Spiketail replied in a thick, gravelly voice, and Ellis remembered.  He took a step back.

"But, how...?"

“I was kept alive by the hypostatick engine which supplied me oxygen from the seawater.  Despite the age of the diving suit, it continued to work quite well and didn’t break down until just shortly after I was rescued by a submersible from Fracture.”

“From Fracture, but…”

“It was manned with those who were escaping Tiberius’ coup.  They brought me to the shore.  Since then I’ve been trying to find a way to stop Lakhma myself.”

“What about your quest for revenge?”

“I realised that this was more important.”

“Wait,” Siren interrupted suddenly, stepping between Sarah and the Spiketail, “I thought I knew you, but it only just came to me: you were the one who shot me that day outside the Silverspire!”

Frostfire lowered his head.  “Yes,” he replied, “and I’m sorry.  I was confused that day.  Terrible things had happened to my people and…  It was unforgiveable, but I ask that you would try.”

Siren stared at the Spiketail for a moment, then nodded her head just very slightly.  Ellis, however, was focussed on Frostfire.  He remembered his sharp talons grappled around him as he was carried to the cell in the depths of the Silverspire, remembered the force of that grip and the cold cruelty in those ever-burning eyes and he found that he couldn’t trust this Frostfire, could not believe a single word he said.

“You’re lying,” he said at last, stepping forward.

“Ellis!” came Sarah’s reprimand, “Frostfire’s my friend!”

“Is he?  On what basis?”

“We travelled together, helped each other out.  He was helping me find my way to you!”

“To what end?  What did he get from it?”

“Sarah was helping me to get revenge on the one who really caused all those deaths that day – Doctor Rosetta Barkham…”

Ellis shot Sarah a confused sideways glance.

“It’s true,” she replied quickly, “but we were never able to reach her.”

“And then more important things came up,” Frostfire concluded, although he too appeared to be eyeing Sarah strangely.  At least, that’s how it appeared to Ellis, but he blinked and suddenly Frostfire was looking past them, along the corridor.  “The core’s that way?”

“Yes,” Sarah replied, “a friend is trying to get it to move to its rightful location so the weapon can be activated.  We were just trying to keep him safe when… well… thanks, I guess.  You saved us a lot of energy.”

Frostfire waved a clawed hand dismissively, then said, “Can I see?”

Ellis watched Siren, to see how she would respond.  Surely she would be as wary of the Spiketail as he was, but she only seemed to pause for a second before sighing and replying with, “Very well.  Come this way.”

They back-tracked then, taking the corridor to the core where Ember lay hidden now amidst the glow.

“Are you still there, Ember?” Siren called as she reached the core first.  “I can’t see you!”

“Still… here…” came a faint, echoing reply, “struggling….control…. machine…”

Ellis continued to watch Frostfire from the corner of his eye.  The Spiketail was staring up at the machine, the cold fire of his eyes twitching as they followed it ever upward through the shaft.

“Power,” he said with a a grating  sigh, “it’s always about power in the end.”

“What’s that?” Sarah asked, stepping up beside him.

“I’m just trying to make sense of it all,” the Spiketail replied, “why we’re all here, in this chamber,” his arms twitched slightly, “why I’m about to do this.”

He moved too quickly for Ellis to register it properly.  One moment he was still, if tensed, standing beside Sarah and staring up at the core, the next he had the talons of his right hand wrapped around her neck, thrusting her up and forwards,  until she was hanging over the edge of the shaft, struggling for air in his grip, fingernails clawing at the scales of his arm.

“Is this enough of a delaying tactic for you Tiberius?” he shouted – his rough voice echoing like an avalanche through the corridors of the obelisk  “Is this what you wanted?  Betrayal after betrayal after betrayal?”  He sounded angry, bitter, but Ellis didn’t care.  This monster was threatening a friend and that called for only one response.

He was charging, summoned sword in hand, before the echoes had even begun to fade.  The sword was raised high, swung just so, cutting an arc to shame rainbows and horizons, making the air sing a song of heat and metal – all one pure note.  Then the sword halted mid-air, sending a jolt through the steel, up his wrist and arm and straight into his shoulder.  His grip went immediately as he yelped in pain and fell backwards to see Frostfire’s free hand clutching the blade yet uncut, twisting the metal between his talons.

“There are no such things as heroes, boy,” Frostfire said bitterly, glaring down at him, “so don’t try to be one,” then he threw his great, lizard-like head back towards Sarah, teeth gritted.  “Why did you lie to me about Doctor Barkham?” he demanded in a rough, pained voice, both shout and whisper.  “I know you left Fracture with her.  I know she came here with you!”

“Then you.. saw her…?” Sarah struggled to ask in reply.

“We killed her, bloody, screaming.  Her blood is still on my claws.”

“Then… you… did… more than I… could…” Sarah managed before slumping in his grip, left only to dangle and gasp.

Frostfire stared at her for a moment longer, burning eye’s twitching with some unfathomable emotion, then he lifted his head and called out once more.  “Isn’t this what you wanted Tiberius?  I thought you’d be watching to see it all unfold!”

There was a moment’s awful silence, filled only with the crackle of lightning and Sarah’s gasps for breath, then,

“Of course I’m watching, Frostfire,” came Tiberius’ voice from all around them, from everywhere and nowhere, with no clear source at all, “and you are doing an excellent job, even better than I had hoped for in fact, my treacherous, faithful minion.”  There was the sound of something whirring off in the distance, growing louder with each passing heartbeat, “you’re right where I need you to be, and you’ll make an excellent conduit.”

The light came almost instantly, a thick, purple-white blast down the corridor, like a pipe of pure energy, to hit Frostfire straight in the back, burning a halo around his body and the limp form of Sarah, the two silhouetted in its brilliance.

And all was light and dark and flame and flesh; all screaming and cold, cold laughter.

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