Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty One - 321Kelgan dodged aside of a glowing sword larger than most wagons. He cleared it, but its impact against the cobbles hit him with a cushion of air that sent him sprawling. His armor and spear clattered across the ground, crashing painfully atop the unconscious Acolytes.
That thing hits harder than three Ogres! Kelgan thought as he struggled to his feet. Didn't even touch me and my Health dropped, his eyes bugged in alarm. Nearly half!
Kelgan leaned against his spear, only to find it give way beneath his weight. He stumbled, catching himself with the splintered haft of his weapon before casting it away. "Useless now."
A high songlike rain and wave against a narrow beachshook the air. The Guardian's next strike was fouled, pieces of its gauntlet and vambrace peeling off in great sheets of golden light. Yet still, the force of its blow buckled shields and crashed through the screen of defensive Skills, scattering their power and his people. Zara shot out another flare of humming bolts, and these detonated against the Guardian's pauldron and chestplate, taking chunks out of the solidified light. It barely flinched.
She's not enough. They were losing. It was so burning obvious she had expended herself in the Passages, and then spent herself again after too little time recovering. She had precious little left.
Rallying Cry!
All Allies' Regeneration Is Boosted By 50%!
Rallying Cry is level 64!
"Kelgan! Here!"
Spear or not, Kelgan almost threw himself at the voice before realizing he knew it. "Thangle! Where the hell are you?"
The air wobbled and then at his side appeared the wild-haired Gnome. His hand was outstretched and holding a pear-shaped bottle filled with a crimson liquid. "Take the blasted Health Potion, Lieutenant!"
He did. It tasted vile, but then Kelgan had never particularly liked the flavors of alchemy. Combined with the bonus to his regeneration, he could feel it knitting together pieces of himself. There had been leaking, he'd realized, and his Health stopped dropping before slowly reversing the damage. "Thanks."
"It was my last one," the Gnome admitted. "Kelgan. We gotta run if we wanna survive. Sound the retreat!"
"Can you hold that invisibility spell of yours for the whole group?"
"It's notNo. That's too much. I can handle four, maybe five people including myself," Thangle admitted with a scowl.
Kelgan reached down, grabbing another weapon. More a halberd than spear, though it'd do the trick. He'd trained with one before. "If you can't get us all outta here, then we go for the head."
Thangle followed his gesture, directly to the tall form of the Inquisitor still on the steps of the Waystone. Trails of golden light clung to the man's armor and hands, like puppet strings that connected to the Guardian of Faith currently stomping their friends.
"We take him out, this fight's over," he insisted.
"He's an Adept! He's fighting off Zara!" Thangle shook his head. His white hair quivered. "That Guardian would sense us before we ever get close enough to do any damage."
A flare of radiance was followed by the sound of crashing breakers, a peal of distant thunder, and the massive sword halted. The Inquisitor screamed and the Guardian pressed, all of its bulk behind its huge weapon. Kelgan noticedand judging by Thangle's pale face, he did toothe unspooling of green-blue light, ribbons that snapped atop the stalled blade. A sharp, tinny scream of sundered metal tore the air, and the Guardian's weapon vanished into golden smoke. His men cheered, heartened as they pressed the attack.
"No! Shields!" Kelgan hollered.
The warning was too late as the Guardian's wild haymaker swept in from their left. Zara, mage or not, squared herself off against it, taking it head on. She was launched into the Haarguard, the lot of them thrown from their feet as their weapons and limbs tangled with one another.
The Inquisitor laughed, and the Guardian stomped closer.
The array lit up, silver and gold lines that filled the entirety of the large chamber. The light of them revealed its size to be even larger than he estimated, and massive triangular crystals hung down from a vaulted ceiling covered in carved vines and organic shapes. The array sang to him, notes that shook his core with every wordless verse. Meaning was there, just outside comprehension, and all of it was focused on him.
State Your Name.
Beneath his feet, the blank stone glimmered with the beginnings of a complex glyph. But only the beginnings; it seemed to be waiting on his answer.
"Felix Nevarre."
Why Do You Seek Authority, Felix Nevarre?
Why Do You Seek The Crown?
"The crown?"
The rite! Answer truthfully and do not fear!
Nodding at Karys' advice, he licked his lips and muscled past the pain in his core space. "To help."
Gold and silver light arced all around him, spitting a choral chaos at him from every angle. The force of the Grand Harmony weighed against him like an avalanche, a crushing stone that threatened to grind him flat.
Reason Not Sufficient.
Redefine.
What? He searched for words, to boil down exactly what he was feeling since coming to the Continent. Power was a means of survival, at first. But somewhere along the lines, that changed. Transmuted. Why did he want Authority? What did it even mean? To be a ruler, like Cal? To reign over people like some noble? His Keen Mind threw back at him visions of people struggle with the burdens this world put on them, burdens that Felix inadvertently put on them when he'd landed in the Foglands those months back. So many dead, because the 'haves' could not let power into the hands of the 'have nots.' The partitioning of power and the gluttonous hoarding of secrets.
You cannot coddle them forever.
All of us, them included, have to live with the consequences of our decisions.
Danger abounds on the Continent. You do them no favors by protecting them from it. That is how it always has been, and always must be.
Zara's words echoed in his Mind, accompanied by visions of people lost beneath the claws of Revenants and Wretches, Arcids and the Reforged. His back curled under the weight of the array. Visions of his friends, allies, the random people he could recall with perfect detail, hurt by the Archon or the Maw or the Inquisition. At the mercy of the strong and cruel.
The array shoved at him, burned him. Gold and silver flared and shone enough to blind, to deafen. It begged an answer. A truth.
He recalled the hands of the divine pressing him, dropping him to his knees. Forcing his decisions no matter his Choices. Yet then, as before, Felix refused to be bent or broken. "No."
Reason Not Sufficient.
Redefine.
"You" he unbent his back, shoving with every ounce of Strength he possessed. A sharp whine cut through the Harmony. "You want me to name one thing, but I can't! I have a million! To protect! To thrive! To fight back!" Felix hurled the weight from his shoulders, and stood, utterly free of its insidious pressure. "I remade myself, and I can remake this too. I am me!"
Reason Not Sufficient.
Re
"I am Felix Nevarre! Born of my own Will! And I bow to no one."
The chamber lit. Gold and silver.
"In the name of the Duke, I condemn you!"