Runeblade-Chapter 216B2 : Cold Bodies, pt. 1

Giving his pan a last good shake to flick off as much water as he could, Kaius dipped back into the tent.

While he’d asked Ianmus if he’d noted anything about the strange pinpoint of energy that had radiated from his mind during the founding of his Aspect, the mage had only been confused—and voraciously curious.

The lack of answers was a shame, but hopefully with more time and experience they’d discover something more concrete.

He’d been thinking through their meal. Ianmus’s success with igniting his Aspect was a significant boon—worth the risk he had pulled. It had also brought with it questions.

How had casting a spell allowed him to ignite the pillar? And what was that strange white light he had seen? Somehow he doubted the latter would be easy to answer.

Stepping around Porkchop, he took a seat at the foot of the bed and turned to Ianmus—at the very least, he could learn more about that plane of light.

“Ianmus—that spell you cast, how’d you do it? It was far stronger than anything I had expected from you.” he asked.

Ianmus looked up, startled for a moment at the sudden question.

“Oh! It was partially because of you, actually.” his friend replied, scratching behind an ear. “I’d been thinking about what you told me of your glyph—the controlled collapse of unstable mana. Some principles of the rune arts are used in free-casting, so I thought I'd give it a go.”

Porkchop shifted to face them, evidently interested in their conversation.

Kaius nodded—secretly pleased that there were elements of glyph-binding that could be used elsewhere. He’d known it was likely, every other form of magic was interconnected on some level. Still, for it to have been something that he and Father had developed themselves—rather than something unique to Vesryn—was gratifying.

“How’d it help? And what did it have to do with Mentis?” Kaius asked.

Ianmus’s eyes fuzzed over—a familiar look on the half-elf, one that overtook his features anytime he was absorbed in magical theory.

He explained how he’d compressed his mana—leaning on the principles of guided instability that Kaius had shared when he’d explained the reasoning behind his original glyph. So much of the mage’s exhaustion had been the utter annihilation of his mental energy, directing the explosive release of his mana into a purely horizontal plane had taken much from him.

Though, Ianmus was very much still interested in testing it further. At least, once they were somewhere safe and he was well rested.

That much, Kaius agreed with him wholeheartedly. If Ianmus could get a grip on this new shaping of solar magic, it would be significantly helpful—the ability to deal with large groups of weak enemies was something they clearly lacked. Thankfully, it would almost undoubtedly happen eventually—often what was once impossible became as easy as a turn of the hand with enough levels.

“Mentis…is more difficult to explain. My meditations—they made me realise that I have a tendency to over-analyse, to think of things from every angle. It’s what drew me to magic, and what led to my performance in Sunspire…but it also made me indecisive, at times. I decided that if it was so integral to who I am, it needed to be fully under my control. That taking an action was more important than finding the best one. Decisive planning and preparation, rather than an impossible attempt to consider everything equally. The spell was my attempt at that.” Ianmus continued, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

Porkchop let out a low huff, a grumbling chuckle emanating from deep in his chest. “So Kaius realised that sprinting blindfolded through a maze until you run into a wall is a bad idea, and you realised that it's a better one than trying to map the whole thing before you started moving.”

Smiling at his brother's friendly jab, Kaius rolled his eyes. Porkchop did have the right of it though—he had been a little…action-forward in the past.

Still—it was good to see that Ianmus’s ignition had come with its own insights into how he wanted to grow. It seemed that the personal insights of the Aspects were as much of a benefit as the additional powers they brought. A reflection of their development—the mindset with which they sought their goals.

Speaking of goals—they still had yet to decide what they were going to do. The mission had gone…sideways, to say the least. A siege that nearly led to an outright rout, and a revelation of their utter misjudgement of their capabilities and plans.

Something had saved them—though if it was a stroke of good fortune, or a reprieve before disaster, was yet to be known.

With the time it had taken Ianmus to return to waking, they’d had enough time to recover from their excursion—at least in terms of their Resource pools. It would take a lot longer than a few hours for the exhaustion and mental fatigue to fade.

Regardless, they were in a position where they had to choose—did they investigate? He’d need another half hour or so to finish reinscribing, but then they’d need to choose. It was a decision he was uncomfortable making unilaterally.

He might have been the party leader, but this was their lives—if the rest of the bogglings were lying in ambush, or something more dangerous had taken them out, reentering that cave would put them in grave danger.

Biting the bullet, Kaius cleared his throat, drawing his friends away from the ongoing conversation.

“I think, at this point, we need to decide if we’re going back in that tunnel—we could just leave and tell the guild what happened, but it could save lives if we confirm they’re still living—and precious resources if they’re dead.” Kaius said.

“I say we investigate—it doesn’t sit right with me to leave without checking, feels cowardly.” Porkchop replied.

To Kaius’s surprise, Ianmus nodded along with his brother’s words—normally he could count on the half-elf being the voice of reason in their little group.

“I agree—for one major reason. Whatever happens, there will be repercussions for our failure here. Returning with evidence of what happened—one way or the other—could lessen it somewhat.” Ianmus replied.

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A sharp wince slipped from Kaius’s mouth. He’d been trying not to think of that. Neither Ro, nor Rieker, stood out to him as the most lenient of sorts. Understanding, sure, but not lenient. Even if this mission had been meant as a lesson, he was sure there would still be consequences for failure.

For all he knew—proper investigation was part of the test, and they might worsen their failure further.

“Well, in that case—we need a plan. If we need to flee, we should be ready to run like a demon is on our tail. For all we know, one might be.” Kaius said. “I’ll be inscribing plenty of Slip Step—I can chain them if need be—but we can’t let you slow us down.” he nodded to Ianmus, who nodded grimly.

“I understand. Perhaps it’s better if I stay behind?” the mage replied.

“No,” Porkchop said with a shake of his head. “I’ll let you sit on my back, just this once. Your weight isn’t enough to slow me in the slightest, and me and Kaius will both be faster with your solar empowerment. Let alone we might need healing.”

Kaius snapped to his brother in shock, Ianmus mirroring his expression. That was a significant concession—one that showed a level of comfort that surprised him. It wasn’t just about trust, but vulnerability. Porkchop had made it quite clear that carrying someone on his back was taboo, and something he only allowed because he knew that Kaius would not take it for granted.

“Are you sure?” Ianmus asked—his tone incredulous, like he struggled to believe he had heard correctly.

“I’m sure.” Porkchop replied, before he sniffed. “Only because we might die otherwise, don’t go getting any funny ideas that I'll be the only one walking now.”

“I wouldn’t dare!” Ianmus replied, clutching his heart in mock offense.

Kaius shook his head, chuckling. “Well then, since we’re decided, prepare yourselves—we leave when I finish inscribing.”

…

The site of their siege looked impossibly gruesome.

Far worse than he remembered. Fresh eyes rendered him incredulous. A stretch of tunnel—perhaps thirty long-strides long—was utterly carpeted in congealed blood, torn flesh, and pulped offal. Dark red stretched a full two strides up the wall, and where the fighting was thickest the bodies were stacked tall enough to come up to his waist.

The worst was the smell—raw meat, iron, unwashed bodies, and spilled bowels; all mingling together in a miasma that stuck to the throat and clung to his clothes. He could feel it—the sheer volume of it was enough to raise the humidity to the point where he grew sticky.

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He’d been far too absorbed in the heaving rhythm of battle at the time to notice, but the bogglings would have been trampling on layers of their dead. That alone should have been enough of a sign that something wasn’t right.

Their baying cries and savage eyes had seemed to be madened bloodlust at the time—but what if it wasn’t? What if they’d been driven forwards by something else—they were no depths-born. At some point their will should have broken—long before they were wading through the entrails of their tribe to offer themselves up for slaughter.

A chill shot down his spine, animal instincts on edge as he peered into the dark. It was unsettling, far more than the gore they had left in their wake.

“Wading through that is going to ruin my fur.” Porkchop moaned, pulling Kaius out of his musings.

“And yet we’ll do it anyway.” Kaius replied, taking the first step into the viscera.

It squelched, welling up around his boots and soaking the leather—still disconcertingly warm in its deepest reaches. Kaius breathed out slow, suppressing the roiling in his stomach as he clambered on.

More than once he nearly ended up face first, an arm shifting, or his foot slipping on unidentifiable muck—he soldiered on, advancing until he was over the worst of it.

Once his team had joined them, they continued.

They moved at a creep—just as cautious as the first time they had moved through the tunnels. At first there was nothing, the cave empty.

Then they reached the lit warren, and the bodies strewn through its halls.

It started right by the entrance. Bogglings, by the dozen—surgically dismantled with a precision that left Kaius in shock. Clean cuts that separated heads, limbs and waists.

It only got worse the further in they entered. At first there were signs of struggle—weapons clutched in hands, the bodies having fallen in such a way that it made it obvious they were still struggling to fight out of the cave.

That changed quickly. More and more often boggarts and bogglings lay facing the wrong way—like they’d fled. Some had their legs cut off, trails of blood left on the stone as they had attempted to claw their way back to their den.

It shocked him—an impossibility. Whatever had done this had to be right behindthem when they were fleeing. But there'd been no sign, no tells. The only way the scene made sense was if something had been in the cave, unnoticed by both them and the bogglings, and had waited until they were in the middle of the mass to strike.

“Porkchop…” Kaius whispered, breaking the tense silence that had consumed them since they’d stumbled across the signs of battle that weren't their own. “Didn’t you mention that you felt like we were being watched?”

Porkchop’s ears flattened against his head—a soft whine escaping.

“I’d forgotten about that…I don’t sense it now though.”

“Yeah, me too—Obviously you weren’t imagining it.” he muttered back.

Rallying their spirits, they pushed on.

Reaching the crossroads, they slowed—giving Ianmus the opportunity to jump onto Porkchop’s back. Sundrenched vigour filled them both—steadying their bodies in a way that didn’t quite reach his nerves.

They hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the mysterious attacker—only the evidence of a desperate struggle that grew all the more fearful and gruesome, heading directly for the cavern in front.

Step by step they continued, tense and ready to flee at the sign of danger.

Kaius kept his Slip Step ready—half of the mind to activate one now.

The cave opened up.

Raw carnage rooted him to the spot. If their own battle had been a brutal siege, whatever had happened in the cavern was a wanton slaughter.

Bodies cleaved at the waist, halves tossed to the side with contempt. Limbs scattered like leaves, gathering in unrecognisable piles. Wardlights that were covered in so much blood they shone a pale red.

The bogglings hadn’t just been killed—they’d been annihilated. Kaius couldn’t even estimate the corpses, for not a single one was in a single piece—torn apart with a level of dedication that could only come from hate. No creature did this.

Only a thinking mind could be so intentional—so careful—in its savagery.

The dealer of this death was obvious.

For there was Ro, sitting on the warchief’s throne with her legs propped up on its corpse.

“Well, boys—how does failure taste?”