Chapter 304: To Each Their Own Role

“...somewhere around here,” Valera muttered under her breath, searching for the place the Little Guardian had assigned to her. It was a little harder than she’d assumed, mostly due to one important fact.

Valera couldn’t move as fast as she wanted to.

If she’d been able, she could have simply blitzed her way through her surroundings with the sort of speed that few could even keep up with. It would have taken no time at all to lock in on the location that she needed to be in. But that wasn’t something she was allowed. Not while in plain sight, anyway.

It would have drawn too much attention, and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

Valera sighed, shifting the heavy cloak that rested overtop her armor; the fabric had slipped about as she walked, exposing a small portion of the mana-light that hid underneath. As a disguise, it wasn’t much, and it didn’t need to be.

She didn’t need to hide herself for long. Just long enough to get into position and wait for the signal.

I wish this cloak would cooperate, though…

It rustled as she pulled at it again, plucking at the rebellious fabric until it complied.

It was as she lifted her head up again that she finally found what she was looking for. There was a door, hastily marked with a winding loop that could only generously be defined as a snake drawn by someone with a complete lack of artistry. It, unlike many of the visions provided by the Little Guardian, was something that had been decided on afterwards. While the cute little snake could do a lot to help them, he couldn’t sink his fangs into each and every problem they might come across.

They probably should have decided on the exact details of the symbol and sketched it out then and there. Valera hoped that it didn’t catch on. It was…

…not well done.

Dismissing her thoughts on who, exactly, had managed to mangle such a simple symbol so severely, Valera moved towards the door at the same pace as before. It was even harder now, to keep herself from blurring with rapid motion, and she was forced to keep herself steady with distracting speculation on how everyone else’s roles were going.

It felt strange for them all to be separated like this, but the situation demanded it.

Valera knocked on the door, pressing her knuckles against the door in a predetermined series of blows. That, at least, wasn’t open to artistic interpretation in the way that the symbol itself had been.

The door opened, and Valera stepped inside.

“...damn lunatics,” Doran grumbled to himself, watching from a corner as the idiots he’d been stuck with argued over meaningless drivel.

“...a test of our faith and competence, otherwise he would strike them down in an instant,” one of them, his eyes shining with certainty, asserted. Doran tuned whatever came to follow out, already knowing it would be ridiculous, and motioned towards Jorell.

The man approached with a salute.

“Sir!”

Doran motioned for him to relax, too thankful that the greeting was kept at a relatively normal volume rather than its usual shout to bother reminding the man - once more - that he was no ‘sir’. Instead, he looked him over. Jorell had a lean and mean look to him that he’d lacked when Doran had started with his training, only a short while ago. It was hard to reconcile that sort of pace with what Doran knew should be possible, but that damn snake changed everything as it always did.

Especially now that Jorell, like virtually all of the lunatic trainees that Doran had initially taken under his wing, had undertaken what the snake’s followers were now calling the ‘null-water baptism’. As he was now, the man might as well be considered a whole new species compared to what he was before.

Though, he had to admit, even Doran was far from the man that he’d once been. It was the same for everyone else; each of them had been changed by their journey with that irritating snake, in every way imaginable. It hadn’t been that long ago that Doran realized he’d somehow grown to be nearly twice as strong as he’d been before they’d found that little snake in its miniature home. It was something to do with the [Little Guardian’s Totem]s, he was sure, but that wasn’t enough for him to decide to take the magical artifact off.

As far as he could tell, it was doing nothing but helping him. In fact, despite Doran’s continual grumblings, the Little Guardian had done nothing but help anyone, as long as he discounted the small mishap with the captive Webweaver colony back in Orken.

That was the problem with the snake. It was difficult to not trust something that kept making itself seem so…trustworthy. Doran knew that the Little Guardian wasn’t tamed - had never been tamed. It simply did what it willed - which meant that, one day, it might will itself to turn against them all.

Even Doran had to admit that it was becoming increasingly likely that would never happen. He’d seen the way the little snake slithered among the children and the downtrodden. It didn’t make sense that a creature born as a monster could empathize with humans in the way that it did, but…

…Doran was struggling not to like the little guy, himself. To truly like, not simply see the snake as an ally or a useful tool. There was something innocent about it, for all of its ever-growing power. It felt a little strange to come to that realization after so long, while surrounded by lunatics who’d convinced themselves of the snake’s near-divinity in such a short time, but it was true.

He shook his head, refocusing on the man in front of him.

“I want you to take the role of second-in-command of this group here, in case I fall or become unreachable during the fighting,” he told Jorell. The serious man wouldn’t have seemed as if he’d shown a reaction to someone that didn’t know him well enough, as stone-faced as always, but Doran could tell that the responsibility meant something to him. Jorell saluted again, but the motion was somehow even more crisp than it usually was.

“I’ll accept this honor, sir!”

“Good. Your first task as second-in-command is as follows: get these idiots to shut up and focus. It won’t be long now before it’s time to move.”

As Jorell stalked through the room, exercising his newfound power, Doran closed his eyes. Finally, there was blessed silence. He breathed softly, flexing each of his mana-enhanced muscles in turn, and continued to wait for the cacophony of plantlife that would serve as the signal to move.

“...hold fast,” Erik consoled the crowd around him, most of whom had been carefully pulled away from their endangered homes. “The Little Guardian has determined that you are to be protected in the coming hours, and we will be here to ensure that.”

He wasn’t entirely sure how much comfort that was supposed to provide; many of the people that he’d gathered didn’t even know of the tiny snake and the things that he had done, nor did they possess the [Little Guardian’s Totem]s that those who had already joined the side of the true Erandur did.

At best, they’d heard whispers. With the warriors from Virtun walking around, that was all that many of them could hear. Especially these, whose homes lay so close to the areas where the Virtun delegation rested their heads at night. In those places, even the whispers quieted themselves further.

The people gathered around him were frightened, and with good reason. They’d been told to leave their homes with little explanation, directed by people who seemed to know far more than they were willing to share. A few had even resisted, afraid of stepping out of their doors and encountering a member of the Virtun delegation. The fear of becoming one of the daily examples was too strong.

It was paralytic.

Not that a door would be enough to stop one of them, Erik thought darkly. In fact, he was fairly certain that at least one of the prior days’ punishments had been someone whose home had been trespassed into. It was easy enough for the Virtun warriors to simply phase through any door - or wall, even - that they came across.

If it hadn’t been for the knowledge that those chosen as examples would be left alive, even if doomed to death or dismemberment by the objects that were fused to their flesh and the environment, Erik wouldn’t have been willing to wait so long. But they each lived, removed from their suffering and healed in the same way that Ewan’s father had been before them.

Not everyone knew that, though. For those who had hidden themselves within their homes out of paranoia, it would be a difficult fact to hear.

Thankfully, the presence of some of the Little Guardian’s newest followers had helped. It was easier to trust the word of someone who could be recognized as a neighbor, especially one who could demonstrate the blessings they’d received. People who’d been crippled by injuries that could suddenly walk again, or with interminable illnesses that had been wiped away.

Not that everyone was easily convinced. There were still suspicious looks, whispered questions, and the occasional accusation that this was some elaborate attempt to do something nefarious. Erik couldn’t blame them for being wary. That wariness was fading, though, as those who had volunteered as Erik’s helpers and fellow defenders passed out [Little Guardian’s Totem]s one by one, instructing them on their origin and use.

There was one thing that Erik didn’t understand, though. In the visions that the Little Guardian provided, he made it clear that the people he was protecting would be in danger without aid - but, at the same time, the little snake explicitly wanted them within sight of where it would all begin, a place that was dangerous in and of itself. It was the whole reason Erik was staying to guard them in the first place. If they were going to be placed in potential danger when they might otherwise be hidden away somewhere safer, he felt responsible for ensuring their safety.

Despite the danger, it was difficult to argue with the Little Guardian’s visions. The snake had revealed what would happen if they failed to gather these people, and the results had been unpleasant. The warriors of Virtun were not above taking hostages if needed, and they couldn’t be stopped by something as simple as a door or a wall. It was better for them to be out of the way, even if it left Erik guarding more than a couple hundred confused citizens. So far, the tiny snake’s visions meant that they’d avoided drawing the attention of any wandering members of the Virtun delegation; he hoped that trend would continue.

As soon as things kicked off, Erik knew that there would be other ways to protect them, as well. Between himself, a few dozen of the reforged that accompanied him, the [Little Guardian’s Totem]s that were still being passed around, and the plantlife that Erik knew would burst to life as one of the signals to begin the attack, Erik felt fairly confident in that assurance. It had been hard to smuggle in his shield, but he’d managed it. Now, Erik would put it to use in making certain none of his charges fell victim to the coming fight. His purpose was as an unbreaking wall, even after all this time.

Just as his father had trained him to be.

“...there you are,” Kala muttered, ducking her head as she spotted the place where she was meant to wait. Unlike most of the others, Kala was alone. While the healing mana-enhancement that the reforged had gained was strong, it only made them effective warriors. Not a single one of them had the sort of skill and experience in archery that she did, so they were better off being placed elsewhere.

Kala waited in a shadowed corner, casually glancing around every so often. Her bow, hidden beneath a bundle of fabric that disguised its shape and the glow of mana it contained, was already strung and waiting to be used.

She shifted her weight, settling more comfortably against the wall behind her.

Any moment now, she thought.

There was a furor somewhere up above, on one of the higher levels of the tower. Indignant shouts, furious voices, and helpless cries. Kala knew they would be the spectators, the ones who stood near the place where the Little Guardian would first make his move, though they wouldn’t be alone. There was a ringed platform that encircled the vast central opening within the tower, forming a sort of atrium that each side of the tower could look down upon. On one of its sides, Erik should have gathered a vast group of citizens of his own. If everything went right, they would be another set of witnesses to the Little Guardian’s first strike. They wouldn’t get as clear of a view as the crowd above her, but the Little Guardian had been surprisingly insistent on it.

On another side, higher up the tower, there was a bridge that led to the secondary tower that formed the White Towers’ eponymous twin tower structure; it served to split much of the Virtun delegation during the day, thinning their numbers as they spread out between either one of the two towers or manning the massive centipede-like construct that rested outside.

Kala knew that particular bridge would be one of her main focuses when the battle began; with any luck, her arrows would help to slow down the reinforcements that arrived from the secondary tower. While the Virtun warriors could phase through solid matter with the power of their armor, she might still catch one or two of them by surprise.

…any moment.

The entirety of the tower seemed to be holding its breath, ready to violently exhale - but maybe that was just because Kala knew what was coming. The Little Guardian had revealed it all to her; the cruel torture that one poor soul was being subjected to above, one that had only been allowed after long deliberation; the plantlife that would burst into life, their seeds sown and spread over each of the days of preparation; the tree that would appear at the tower’s center; then, finally, the first strike of the Little Guardian, when it would all truly begin.

Kala’s eyes locked on to the center of the tower, the mana that enhanced them allowing her to easily spot the single seed placed there. Without that seed, little that Kala could do would matter, but she knew that it would grow when she needed it.

The sounds above her rose in volume, and Kala shifted again. This time, she reached beside her, slipping a hand underneath the bundle of fabric and around the bow and quiver hidden underneath.

In the same moment, the tower shook. It quaked, beset by an incalculable rage that vibrated stone and air alike.

The first seed bloomed, and Kala shot forward.

All around her, vines all but burst into life, stretching from the edges of each of the tower’s levels. They curled down, thrashing furiously, as if filled with the anger of each and every one of the tower’s victims. Kala ignored them, knowing that they meant her no harm, even as she lunged through a curtain of vines that spilled down to block her vision.

They twisted aside languidly; their anger wasn’t meant for her, nor for anyone else who bore one of the Little Guardian’s carved necklaces.

Ahead of her, roots tore through stone in great, twisting coils and forced the ground to violently shake. A trunk of darkened wood burst from the bottom of the tower like an arrow formed of living matter, shooting upward at an unbelievable pace. Branches began to spread from its edges, forming the beginnings of an incomprehensibly large canopy.

With a leap, Kala curled herself around one, nearly knocking her quiver loose as she made impact - and then the growing tree brought her upwards with it, exactly as the Little Guardian had shown her it would.

She rose on shaking legs, finding that pieces of the branch she’d chosen grew to curl around her and hold her fast. There would be no falling, even as she let go with her hands entirely.

Her bow came up, an arrow already nocked against its string, but it wasn’t quite time yet. There was one more thing that she was waiting for; the final signal that everything had begun. It would be unmistakable, she knew.

It started with a single sentence.

“The Little Guardian will curse you for this.”

The words vibrated in the air and against her ears, rocking Kala to her core; it connected with something both inside and outside of her, forcing the wooden carving pressed against her chest to pulse with heat. At her feet, the branches that held her fast twisted and warped, as if responding to the sound in their own way.

“His coils will provide you no shelter. His scales will not shield you. His fangs will find you no matter how far you run.”

Kala staggered again, feeling the pulse once more. It was stronger that time, and she noted that she wasn’t the only one affected. Her eyes locked onto a pair of crowds, now far below her. One, she saw, was larger and guarded by Erik and his great tower shield, while the other was smaller and stood directly before the source of the noise.

Then, only a few seconds later, the light of the tower dimmed and a massive, glowing version of the Little Guardian began to fall.

As it spit fire, falling faster than a loosed arrow, the [Little Guardian’s Totem] around Kala’s neck pulsed even stronger than ever. The world seemed to pulse with it, and she knew that something important had just permanently changed.