Chương 40: Chapter 38: Through the Night, Under the Light

Aliata's thrashing ceased, her muscles locking up as she grit her teeth, feeling the rampant energy within her, as well as the healer's guiding hand, but he could only do so much. The rest was on her. She knew the three big things of forming a wild Imprint from twisting- taught to her since a kid: know what you want, know what the Imprint wants, and try to find where you two meet- but never ever give it control.

Speaking any more than that was taboo- it was always known that the people who even thought about getting too loud, about helping too much in the process, always disappeared or had accidents happen to them. It was forbidden to share too much. But she was not left entirely in the dark, her partial Imprint- no matter how weak- giving her the slightest experience in such things.

So, she did as she would with her existing Imprint; communicating her intent to the Imprint, she let go, allowing it to expand and spread freely within her for a second, watching it closely, discerning all she could. She locked down on it a second later, having seen its shape, and heard what it wanted: Dedication. It didn't matter what, at its core, this energy wanted dedication, at least the piece she received. So she showed hers.

"I am dedicated to being pretty! Don't you dare turn me ugly!" she insisted, and it seemed the Imprint heard her, thankfully respecting her tone as she thought it would. Some demanded subservience and would fight you, others wanted equals. She showed her dedication, and how its efforts were ruining hers. She showed that it was going against its own desires.

While not immediately giving in, it saw her point, withdrawing from her physical body, but also responding that she would not be able to dedicate herself to appearing aesthetic to others if she were dead, and as it was, her body was too weak. It wished to make her beautiful, and strong. She denied immediately. She did not care about strength as much as it thought she might; she'd let those childish dreams go.

She was not one for fighting; the only thing they agreed on was the aesthetics, and she brought its attention to that over and over again. And then, distantly, she heard the dreaded footsteps she recognized, the way he climbed the ladder to visit her sometimes.

"TIME'S UP! IT'S OVER, COVER ME OR YOU FAIL!" Surprisingly, it respected her decision, and she felt many petals burst from the nape of her neck- to avoid ripping her clothes- and extend down and over her body. The healer was quickly pushed away, much to his alarm, but she was hidden within what she would soon know was the bud of a yellow flower. Within seconds of this strange chamber, they found their balance.

Her husband crested the last step, and quickly pulled himself up over the ledge, finding only an unnatural, smooth coffin, and fearing the worst. He didn't wait for long; as it bloomed, peeling away and drying out as Aliata gracefully kipped up in a single moment, slightly different than she was before. Now with golden eyes and sparkling hair, a few strange seeds with white tails decorating her hair. A breeze abruptly passed by, pulling them away, and giving her new appearance a dramatic, flowing nature.

Looking at her husband, she suppressed the cold sweat threatening to flow down her back at how close that'd been. She felt that if she'd failed at her objective right at the start, her Imprint would not have been kind enough to allow her to change the goalpost. But, within her, she felt the centralized glow a full Imprint, the partial one she'd had before now subsidiary to her current one.

"Hii!" She said in a musical tone, and he sagged in relief, quickly pulling her into a hug.

"What happened?!" He asked "They said I-" Ambient noise turned deafening call, a low roaring cut him off, and everyone turned their heads to the direction they heard it from: the very one she'd been watching before.

'The guardsmen!' she cried in concern, but there was nothing more she could do for them. They'd chosen to stay out longer despite the risks, and might very well pay for that mistake with their lives. Green clouds took shape in the air, providing the first visual. Bright, golden lightning flashed within, rapidfire sparking in a series of blinding flashes. Alita had never seen anything like it, and she felt life in its movements. The descent of a god. An angry god.

Above the storm, a terrifying crack formed in the sky, and before she could even process the phenomena, everything broke. The sky exploded, many shards falling downwards, and an incomprehensibly large form fell through, taking on the very same color scheme she'd inherited. Following in its wake, many dark creatures slipped through, radiating a purple malevolent light- but they did not even attempt to approach the green shape, fleeing away from it in all directions; several even came towards her town directly.

Behind them, the sky rapidly repaired itself. Before the twisting mass even hit the ground, a shockwave washed over them- and only now did Aliata see that Neenaw- the eldest elder- stood directly beside her, with a hand out, blocking the vibration that shattered many mirrors on its way, releasing the spirits within in their more complete forms- powerful monstrosities that would lead to a grim fate on any other day.

The falling god finally hit the ground, and a second later, shards of glass went up in all directions, releasing countless more monsters then eviscerating almost every single one, including those that'd been let out only moments before. The few survivors broke and ran, not bothering to hunt for Aliata or her town as they flowed around them, with even the strange inky black and purple creatures flying overhead without bothering to stop, getting as far from the being as they could. And a mountainous thing it was.

Several massive flowers sprouted from its smooth circular core, but most of those on the bottom were completely broken from its descent- for all of a second. Light flared from within, the entire shape lifting off the ground and all of its stalks held in place again; that same glow seemed to repair the flowers, healing it back into pristine condition. Yet, suddenly, it sputtered out, and its monstrous shape sagged to the ground once more.

"N-Neenaw," she said, looking at the grim elder.

"There were guardsmen under-""They live," she said, shocking Aliata, "They had one capable of redirecting force, who was barely able to get their Imprint up in time" Aliata threw her eyes out, finding it easier than ever before to activate it. Yet, a hundred times more difficult to approach the thing.

It radiated some kind of aura that interfered with her, and she was forced to pull back and see from a distance, angling herself to see under the figure and thankfully verifying that they were huddled together, terrified but alive.

Though distant, she watched them suddenly break and duck behind some of the few straggling mirrors remaining, each of them jagged and cracked where their edges chipped off despite the durability; she didn't even see the trapped spirits respond to their proximity, likely scared away as well. They moved as if hearing something. And, a moment later, she watched as a figure dropped down from within the god. A human man.

Landing on his own two feet, the god gently deposited his bare figure on the ground, and her shock was enough to fully outshine any sort of embarrassment she might've felt for seeing him naked. Not panicking as she might've, he kept a neutral, aloof expression as he briefly studied the divine figure above that he'd just appeared from, then looked down and met eyes with the group of taurin that quivered behind their glassy shields.

Not moving a muscle, the staredown lasted for several seconds, and she screamed in her head as she saw the natural desire to attack when threatened run through their captain's head.

"Just run," she heard Neenaw whisper next to her, and nodded her head fervently, as if they would see her. She watched their captain very nearly step out, when the taurin next to him grabbed his side, crushing it in a handful of flesh, the pain snapping him out of his daze. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Wordlessly, he ran, and the others followed, allowing Aliata to sigh in relief.

* Anyone with any sort of farsight ability kept watch of the man as he went about his day, in a seemingly mundane routine- if not for the mushki feather he held aloft and used like a kitchen knife. Even from here, they knew what it was. The town had three: One for Neenaw, one for the head guardsman, one for display in the square in case of emergencies and so anyone who saw one in the wild would recognize and bring it back.

Completely oblivious to his gaze, they saw him lazily make clothes for himself- a fact that sent instant panic through all who saw him rip apart one of the petals, but he was surprisingly not cut down. The rest of the day passed quickly as they watched him lounge about, wasting daylight to seemingly meditate on an oblong object he held. It was far too late that a thought occurred to her:'Does he even know what is going to happen?' He had to, yes? It happened all the time; night was a simple trait of the world…

but he'd just come from somewhere else, somewhere she didn't understand, and that might not have night. He would be unprepared for the husks. She wanted to flash her eyes at him to warn him but the god continued to prevent her and everyone else from getting close, leaving them helpless to watch as the sky began to dim. His attention snapped to it, and she held complicated emotions as he immediately jumped into action, using the mushki feather to help him quickly ascend the god's body.

'So he knows what night is, but didn't think it would happen? And… will the god help him? Will it protect him?' She shivered at the thought, knowing even the slightest lashing out from a being such as that could spell doom for their town. Yet, as the world turned black and the husks began to appear, the god did not move. Even as they climbed it to get at the man, it remained dormant.

It took many hours for the man to reach the top, but when he did, the husks were not far behind, and the god did nothing to stop them; at first, she thought this was his punishment for taking from its body, for his total irreverence. When the fighting started and the husks slowly began to pull him apart, this notion was reinforced. Though the weakest of the spirits, husks held the highest danger. Completely unrelenting, the harder you fought, the louder your Imprint, the more you attracted.

To truly sneak through them, you needed to slay them in single combat with no assistance from your Imprint, and only then would the tide stop. Yet, this was no simple task, as if one saw you physically, they would still launch themselves at you and force you to use your Imprint anyway. And this man… clearly did not know any of that. He did not use his Imprint conservatively; it was loud, and she knew that every husk for miles would storm towards him.

After hours of exhaustive climbing, she wasn't sure he'd have the slack to do so, even if he knew. At the very least, those wounded guardsmen limping home in the dark after being injured by the explosion would find their paths cleared. She watched as the man was torn apart by the husks, being cut and infected then healing quickly. Releasing several flashes to keep them off him that saved his life, but wetted their appetite further.

As his fighting became more desperate, she almost couldn't watch, knowing the outcome already; when his sword went dark, she felt her eyes water. Despite him being arrogant and dismissive of his own mortality, she wondered if there might have been a way to save him, to teach him that this was no heaven he was sure to have come from. Then she was shocked when another flash rang out several seconds later, revealing both the sea of husks, and the man still standing. Still fighting.

In the pitch-black, with no way to see. The light slowly died down, and the rolling darkness sank in. She wished, very dearly, that she could pierce the shadows with her Imprint. Yet, she saw enough. Every handful of seconds, he would let out a flash, Aliata would glance dozen more ebon opals on the ground. Then, the light would die, plunging him into darkness, and the cycle would repeat.

She waited for the time when his last flash would come, when the shadows would overwhelm him, and his light would be snuffed out. But he fought endlessly. Faster, finer, more skilled, she watched his style refine in real-time, and only now realized how inexperienced he was in combat- though not any longer. The longer he endured, the more absurd it became. Taurin were powerful and overbearing, but their bodies could not hold out for more than a few tens of strikes.

Humans lasted a bit longer, not fighting as fervently but able to go for ten minutes or more in the best cases. This man… fought without break, for an hour. Then two. Then three. It'd taken him six hours to climb the god, leaving a much shorter time he needed to hold out than he might've if he'd stayed on the ground, but four hours was still too much.

Weary after the climb, he should have collapsed long before he'd ever even reached the top, yet he most certainly did not; nor did he give out after hours of intense combat, each second demanding the full exertion of his every muscle. As if he were sprinting, full speed, for nine straight hours. And he still did not collapse.

His Imprint as well- with the amount of energy he'd used, he should have been hollowed out and replaced with one of the Gone long ago- maybe even before the fighting even started if that's what allowed him to climb for that long- but it didn't. He exploded with power, burning through enough energy in a single moment that would've been the maximum of some guardsmen over the course of an entire day. Again. And again. And again.

And as the ebon opal stacked high around him, as hundreds of husks fell by his hands, she was forced to acknowledge that perhaps the god treated him well and allowed him to be attacked because he was its son, a demigod, and he did not need help. It would make sense- his energy took on the same hue as the god's, and he fought like a- a… she didn't know! She fought like a him! She'd never seen anyone fight like that!

Going into the tenth hour, something strange happened; as the light began to permeate the air, and the husks slowly vanished of their own accord, sinking away, clouds began to form above the god. The last of the husks vanished but, now able to see in the dim illumination, she was barely able to make out the form of the man as he turned his gaze to the sky. At first, she assumed she wasn't seeing things right- but the next flash lit up the world perfectly, and she had to accept what her eyes were telling her.

His eyes were closed, and he had no idea that the husks were even gone. Sensing the rain, his body moved with a stilted desperation. He believed that every single raindrop was another husk, and cut through them with brutal efficiency. More shocking still, it was working. She saw the world warping around him oddly, and every time he did, he slipped between spaces- between droplets. Where he couldn't, where the rain was too dense, his arm blurred, and a spray was sent off away from him.

It continued like this for another ten minutes, and she watched him get stronger throughout it. Without the husks injecting him with their venom, the wounds along his body rapidly began to seal up, black veins receding with each pulse of light, until, finally, he simply opened his eyes. A spell broken, she watched his refined movements stutter to a halt, becoming ragged as the events of the night finally pressed into him, the weight of it landing squarely on his shoulders, nearly pulling him straight to the ground.

Yet, still, he did not collapse. Even as she could see he wanted desperately to, he straightened his spine, gave one last glance about, and walked along the path of the destruction he'd wrought, until he came to the edge of a clean leaf and cut a piece off. Funneling the rainwater into his mouth for a few minutes, he eventually cut a hole into the leaf, jumped into the god's body, and was fully obscured from view. Her and many others kept watch, but he didn't come out again, and she needed to rest.

She couldn't shake the disbelief at such a thing. That she'd gotten just as tired as him, standing around for ten hours, that he'd gotten from that same amount of time while pushing himself to the absolute limit. * POV: Aaron His awareness slowly returned, a tingling buzz slowly cutting through the haze to, once more, bring him back. Again, he was being electrocuted- though at least this time it was very minor, a gentle nudge.

"What…?" he asked, exhausted. The dandelions- and he was sure it was them, as these were their roots- sent him powerful images of hunger, the force of their emotions snapping him awake as it felt like a yawning mouth opened to swallow him whole. He snapped awake, shouting "Fuck! What?!" but, seeing he was still alone, relaxed partially. On his legs, a few roots pierced through the upper layer of his skin.

"What? You're hungry? Why don't you produce the energy you need?" They sent various images he didn't fully understand, but the gist was that they lacked the nutrients. This place was barren to them. Instead, they wanted the stones sitting atop their leaves; too weak to move themselves any longer, they were asking him, the little errand boy, to do it. Sighing, he wiped the last sleep from his eyes, and pulled himself up, his sore arms screaming for more rest, but he ignored them. Honestly?

He wasn't in as bad a shape as he thought he'd be, and the dandelions sent images of supporting and assisting in his healing- all in exchange for what he'd already given them, and the food that was to come.

'At least I know now why Mycelaric Expanse can't draw from them to get more energy.'

"Thanks," he said, still not really sure how they were supposed to hear him or how to convey his emotions. Maybe he could talk to them with Sensitivity like he did his Primary? But they were actual living things, not just a magical power ability… he felt like he'd have to rely on biological signals to communicate, but how was he supposed to do that? Either way, speaking his words seemed to get his point across, as they returned his warmth.

He soon found himself heaving over the last threshold with a grunt, a bright sunless sky greeting him; still with no way to tell time, he wasn't sure how much had passed, and when he asked the dandelions, they said something along the lines of "A while." He quickly found the remains of his carnage, and the many black specks piled high in multiple places. Picking up the first one, he found it to be a smooth, misshapen piece, this particular one curving like a bow.

Lifting up one of the leaves, he shrugged, and tossed it in, then went onto the next, finding that each one he picked up was actually different, though all were smooth and glossy- like underglass.

'This might take a while,' he thought to himself, as he counted how many he fed to his big spherical dandelion ball, one by one.