Rynth: Four Beats

| 6th of Teryusin — Year 362 of the Cycle of Synthesis, Grand Cycle ??? |

Merlin ceased her spellcasting the moment the Batan retreated further in.

When the improvised manhole was cut out and launched, she narrowed her eyes and waited in silence. Once more, the surroundings faded out of existence, replaced by Tel Midasia like an artist patiently painting over a canvas that did not bode well. It reeled around Raoul’s figure as he crawled out. He gripped Kranstor’s handle tightly even as he pulled Avil up to his level. Confidence and certainty of his victory drew onto his face.

The visions were already settling in. They pierced an unwelcome entry into Kamtari Futyris and found refuge in the trees, wheat fields, and flowery meadow. Idri was there, lounging just underneath a perfect recreation of the hill Pinky with a hairbrush in one hand and a blissful look of ignorance about her. Avil sat atop a thick branch on the four-seasoned oak tree, a handheld game console in his hand. Finally, Calliope made herself comfortable on the opposite side of said tree, gazing off into the warm sun-less sunset with longing and melancholy—what caused it, Raoul was unsure. In the reflection of her eyes he noted a distant winged beast, feline in nature.

It’s already started. He huffed. I can’t afford to let the visions impede me. Miss Marrow mentioned I can focus on the environment more intently if I try. But what if I go the other way and stop myself from seeing them?

Merlin raised a confused eyebrow. Her son narrowed his eyes to an uncanny degree, leaving only a small space for his pupils to peer through. Avil noticed this too, and he stopped to press a curious palm on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m okay,” answered Raoul even before the question could be asked. “I can’t see quite as well as I usually can, so I might as well just be using a normal person’s vision. It’ll make it difficult to use Awakening.”

He nodded, and then reached out to pull the light-sucking dagger from Raoul’s pocket, drawing it in a preparatory stance. “We’ll stick to the plan. Should work with or without that sight of yours.”

His mother raised a right hand, retrieving Fensi’s Blade from nothing and brandishing it with a shing! With her left, she held out a curved palm, angling it just enough to make it seem like she was caressing Raoul’s face in her vision.

“You’ve gotten stronger. It’s been my greatest shame that I can never keep you under control, Raoul. You’ve always kept that fire in you, and I must’ve been afraid that you would one day find a way to follow in your father’s footsteps.” She trailed off, taking a particularly deep breath. “I’m willing to give you one last chance. Return to me as my son without a fight, and I will let your friends leave unharmed.”

“Do you really think I’d still hear you out after all you’ve done to me? I lost an arm because you couldn’t keep yourself under control.” he scoffed, tilting his head down to regard Kranstor pensively before raising the broken end in her direction. His next words didn’t address the clone, but rather, the one that created and was watching through it.

“Mother… no, Merlin. It’s time to open your eyes. I’m leaving.”

Merlin breathed an apologetic sigh, and then raised her own blade to meet his. “So you’ve made your decision, then. Fine. I will bring you back home forcibly.”

To balance seeing and not seeing. To pierce the two barriers that prevented their victory twice already. That was the name of the game. With both a heavy heart and conviction in his bones, Raoul raced ahead, giving Avil a knowing look as he did.

He met Merlin in the middle. Clang! Kranstor and Fensi’s Blade met in a tentative ‘X’, the former visibly straining with the effort of keeping the hold. Raoul pulled back, breaking it. With his prosthetic, he attempted to wrench Merlin’s longsword from her grasp, only for her to smack it away with her own strike. She continued in her motion, directing the rest of her energy in a blatant slash toward the part of his joint that connected to the prosthetic.

It was much more difficult to keep up at the speed they were going, not to mention Raoul’s lack of basic understanding in swordmanship. Still, the blur in her strike was evident through the narrowed vision, while her free hand was rapidly glowing in a duality of orange and purple. He tensed, noticing the somatic component for Telekinesis, and instantly threw himself to the ground, barely out of range of the succeeding blast of kinetic energy that rammed through the air. His chest ached from the sudden impact with the dirt, but he ignored it in favor of the stab heading for him.

“Arislaapi…”

Avil was already beginning his spellcasting. Cursing, he rolled out of the stab and swept Merlin out from under her with Kranstor. There was no reaction even as the blade connected, but her body gave out and she fell forward. Just as Raoul kicked himself up and prepared to pounce, he was flung back with another wave of Telekinesis.

Damn… She hid the somatic component underneath her body!

“Here’s a lesson for you, Raoul. Unless covered for, mages are often frailer than the common swordsman. Yours is unprotected, and this means I can stop him before he can get that spell of his off.”

She blitzed off immediately in Avil’s direction, her sword-arm perfectly poised to tear through him the moment she covered the distance.

“Did you think I didn’t account for that?” Raoul spat. He raised his prosthetic and directed the palm just a few inches off from her running path. Inside, one of the two vials containing the absorbed Fireball-s was sucked back into the arm, shooting out of the palm faster than a bullet. Shwoom! It blasted off.

You’re sixty feet away from me. The Fireball already flew sixty when you fired it. The prosthetic keeps spells cast on it in stasis. Fireball explodes either when it reaches its maximum distance or when the caster wills it to. Math does the rest of the work.

Just as it made it to Merlin, Raoul twisted his arm and clenched his palm into a fist in time with the explosion. Boom! Merlin was caught right in the midst of the ensuing chaos of fire, the radius ending just before it reached Avil in a display of perfect calculation.

Avil shared an approving look with Raoul. He mouthed out the rest of the words for the chant, waiting precisely for the smoke to clear before unleashing it.

Meanwhile, Raoul reeled back, launching Kranstor off in Avil’s direction like a javelin.

“...magai-padi…”

Slowly, the winds of Midasia began to pick up, clearing the cloud of dust and smoke that shrouded Merlin. She stood there relatively unharmed, save for the small embers that had flown into her robes before she managed to Shield herself. Those she smothered. Before she could continue on her rush, Avil sealed the final words.

“It’s over for you, Merlin! Batur!”

Donk! The gears of time clashed again, halting to a deafening screech as all but Avil stopped. Without wasting time, he leapt for Kranstor and took it in his hand, raising it to send the broken blade through the same heart they had tried to pierce twice already. As expected, the sword broke through the initial ward cleanly, but colliding with the first slowed its momentum enough to fully be stopped once it met the second.

Despite the disruption, Avil was nonetheless confident. The heartburn in his chest was already beginning to ache again. He made no effort to prolong his stopped time, and watched as time restarted and the world returned to normal. Both wards glowed green, but the first dimmed, indicating it was recharging. Merlin stood in front of him, her relaxed posture and cocky smile mildly annoying.

“A failure again,” she remarked, already raising Fensi’s Blade to strike down Avil. “I had thought better of your final plan.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Merlin. You ought to give your son more props. He’s smarter than you give him credit for.”

He made no effort to defend against the strike, instead throwing it behind Merlin. A slight opportunity to catch it midair opened up to her, but she hesitated, subconsciously fearing the vision it had shown her a few minutes earlier. Still, she followed its trajectory, gasping in surprise as Raoul appeared behind her.

Two more vials remained filled. One with a raging, orange energy. Fireball. The other was vast, concentrated cyan Jati that vaguely conformed into the shape of an hourglass.

“This is my lesson to you, mother. Never underestimate a foe, no matter the difference in skill. They might just one day surprise you.” He stretched his arm out, and willed the vial containing Avil’s Time Stop to emerge outward. “My prosthetic doesn’t require me to use any components when refiring absorbed spells.”

A voice started to well up from Merlin’s lips. Unclear, but Raoul could sense the hesitation in it from her expression alone. He blinked away, dismissing Kamtari Futyris. Potent Time Jati expanded outward from his palm the next, covering the now-returned train and all else of reality. He reached his other arm out and retrieved Kranstor, still mid-flight. No more did he have to hamper his vision. His eyes opened outward fully, allowing him to see his mother’s clone in all her panicking glory.

Finally, he raised the sword up to the heavens, savoring the intense feeling of success. Then, the next, he plunged the blade straight through the exact same spot Avil had done so moments before. The second ward glowed in response to the strike, attempting a pitiful display of protection to stop it. Like his fear, it was pierced through in that instant, and the sword finally tore through her heart in a disgusting squelch.

Raoul released his grip and stepped back, arms outstretched as the Time Stop wore off.

“Farewell, mom.”

When all finally continued, Merlin craned her head downward, noticing the blade of Kranstor half-plunged through her heart. Her body failed her the next, and she fell to her knees with a thud. There was no blood, but the blow was undoubtedly fatal and would destroy the clone within a few moments.

While her vision was still clear and conscience still wavering, Merlin shifted her head upward to stare into Raoul’s own eyes. For the first time in a while, a genuine smile entered her face. Not acceptance of who he had become. Acceptance that he had surpassed her for now.

“Good job… You always were this smart, weren’t you?”

The clone’s facsimile of life left its body as she uttered those words and collapsed, slowly beginning to disintegrate into a pile of brown dust that was blown away by the wind.