CHAPTER SEVEN- Dawns' Incursion

CHAPTER SEVEN
DAWNS’ INCURSION

Year 1667 Month 05 Week 06 Day 08
I paced back and forth, counting and waiting. I checked vials and prepared a number of odd metal instruments. Jars and pots intended for alchemical experimentation. The magic and science of this world is heavily integrated into one another. What they call alchemy is in fact a combination of two rather broad subject matters, chemistry and transmutation. The practical implications of alchemy were that it would allow one to synthesis substances that normally couldn’t exist. By bonding various components together and then transmuting one or two components (all while maintaining the chemical bond) meant that compounds that would be otherwise be considered impossible weren’t. The result, metal alloys that would put titanium to shame, or chemicals more explosive than dynamite of course the process required the labour of a sorcerer knowledgeable and talented enough to be far too expensive for mass production. Which is why you will never see soldiers with alchemically synthesised metal armour, or militaries utilise such concoctions.

While it was very true that I could not perform magic, Frode could. Of course I stood in his laboratory and for now, I stood alone. He was out gathering supplies while I went over my –or rather Cosmo’s- plan, in my head it seemed so complicated. We had gone over it in detail the previous night. But I couldn’t help but think it over. Boredom had come into full swing and it was insufferable. I kept pacing, biting my nails as I did so. I had such think, long nails, ‘had’ being the operative word.

In the end, I decided to get some rest. I still hadn’t slept and it was already morning. Or at least I assumed it would be morning, in this blasted underground city there was no real way to judge, clocks being virtually non-existent in this world. I slumped down into a warm corner, away from the shelves of chemicals and animal extracts. The blackness of my eyelids slowly consumed my vision.

Robert was dead to this world, Sibri returned. The year was 47; the winter day chilled me to the bone. I wandered through the camp walking towards its centre. The war tent was large, the floor covered in the furs of bears and wolves. A semi-circle of chairs took up the centre, x chairs in all with only one being occupied for the moment. Gilgamesh sat on his improvised throne. The man’s head was framed by his hair and beard; both boasted a thick, rich brown colouration despite his age. His eyes glared through the thicket, a steel blue that threatened to tame any flame with its icy gaze. The between his eyes, protruded a strong bridge, leading into an equally strong rigid nose. He wore thick garments despite the blistering heat, leaving much of himself concealed. And for good measure, some would say that anything less would cause lesser men to grow bitter while others claimed that under those robes was a frail body that would dishearten his men.

I dared to take three paces then retreated by one, and kneeled, it would not do to disrespect him by drawing too close. “You summoned me, Lord of Lords.” I announced, not allowing my eyes to leave the floor.

A voice answered me, “How long would you have persisted with this falsehood?” I glanced up to find my accuser. A short man stood between me and my king. I began to defend myself, and then I saw Gilgamesh again. I could not lie here, “You do not deny it.” The short man looked down at me, his chin held high, triumphant. “Now,” the short man said, “Wake up, wake up,”

Frode rocked me out of my daze. I, Robert, was back in his laboratory.

“What took you so long?” I asked, still gorgy.

The dwarf’s brow furrowed, “Do you have any idea what I had to go through?” He started, “to go out past curfew,” he almost broke into hysteria, “I almost got killed over you and Toby,”

“He must mean a lot to you,” I couldn’t help but feel sorry,

“No -not really,” Frode looked out, perhaps remembering something, “here’s the ingredients you wanted, describe to me again exactly how they should be bonded,” I told him what he needed to know, repeated Cosmo’s words mindlessly. My mind drifted to my dream, I was sure that Sibri, like the Bear and Cosmo, was a yet another previous incarnation, one who lived around the same time as Gilgamesh, during the first world conflict. When I first manifested my powers I had hoped that famous figures like Gilgamesh had been one of my past lives. From what I can recall, Sibri was a rather normal human, skilled sure, but I wasn’t really interested in skills. Then the thought dawned me, Sibri had been adept at multiple weapons, not just a sword and shield. So I removed the spear from the rope that attached it to my back. Holding it with each hand and experimented. Robert was gone, the soldier stood tall. Muscle memory forced my legs apart and straightened my back. I was in a fighting stance reminiscent of the guards that stood by the gates. Frode looked alarmed for a moment, so I relaxed.

I put the spear down, more for his sake then my own and decided to try again. This time I brought both the memory of the bear and the soldier from the ashes. It was a weird feeling, like I wasn’t one whole person anymore; as if two very different forces were grinding and scraping against each other. I saw my shadow, twist into an odd shape, which reminded me of the fight against Toby. And just like that Sibri and the Bear were gone. I could be both, if I wanted to, I’d just need to practice, in the end it was a matter of concentration. Then I became oddly aware of Frode again. Minutes had passed without anyone saying anything and it felt strange. Frode must have picked up on my discomfort because he eventually broke the silence.

“I’m sure you’d like to know how I met such a ruffian.” Frode jested, “Well it was winter, a year, maybe two years ago and a cold one at that,” he began. I took a seat by the table and watched what he was doing, his hands were inches away from one of the alchemical pots, the only thing left now was to pour magic into the device and let it work.

“So at the time there were rumours going around about a beastman who had no shame,”

Frode continued, “Toby had journeyed from the north and was something of a rebel,” Frode almost laughed at the story, “In fact, the boy made quite a name for himself, running around the city above, beating down the masked men.” The idea of Toby doing so didn’t surprise me, and Frode continued, “Toby refused to come down here, he refused to be kept segregated and with that sword of his, there wasn’t much anyone could do about it.”

“Wait –so he didn’t get that sword from you?” I had assumed since Frode seemed to know so much about it,

“Oh, heavens no,” Frode chuckled, “If I had a sword like that I’d sell it for a sizable fortune and be done with this miserable place.” The dwelled on that thought for a second and then decided to continue with his story, “Now where was I?” he asked puzzled, “Toby refus-“

“Oh right,” he interjected, “So no one could do anything to dissuade our dear rebel, at least until the new Dumuzid was elected. He turned the masked men into a legitimate military force and managed to drive Toby out of the city with his tail between his ass.” Forde’s brow furrowed at the mention of the Dumuzid. Then continued once again, saying “Not that it stopped our boy for long, Toby became an adventure, giving him the right to go wherever he pleased.”

“Wait so how did you meet him?” I asked, expecting it to have come up at some point of this tale,

“Well the masked men didn’t like this and continued to target Toby regardless, at one point last winter, Toby managed to get himself thrown through the streets of the main city, and destroyed my shop.” Frode laughed at that, I guess it explained the wooden stall “So he built me my wooden stall from scratch and has been a loyal customer ever since.” Frode finished both his story and the active part of the alchemical process; it was a simple matter of waiting now. So he ushered me out of the laboratory, we went upstairs into a corridor and then turned and walked into his main room.

“Tell me, Robert,” Frode asked, “What brings you to this corrosive city?”

“Well, supposedly there’s an adventurer's guild-“

“There is, but why go there,” he interjected,

“Well, I needed information on a band of bandits-”, I was getting annoyed at the Dwarf now

“Okay but that still doesn’t answer my question.” He called out,

“If you let me finish” I blurted,

“Then finish child,” the old Dwarf suppressed his smile, I gave up. “Now now, don’t sulk,” he chuckled.

“Why are you EVEN-” Each word sharper and louder than the last, then I lost my stride, “helping me?” the whole time, I was watching his face. I saw it sink. “Want did the masked men do?” I asked.

“They took her away from me.” Frode said, his eyes watered and he looked away, avoiding my gaze. “Bergljots’ mother”, Frode sniffed deeply, ruffling the hair of his beard as he did so.

“How old are you boy?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was four?” it sounded ridiculous to think I was still so young and he laughed through the tears.

Year 1667 Month 05 Week 06 Day 09
Today we ventured out of Forde’s’ apartment together. It was early morning, meaning that not many people were around. This made it surprisingly easy to see why one might hate this place. The streets were lined with aqua ducts that pumped sewage out of the main city and into a waste tank that could be discovered at the centre of the underground city. Despite this I knew for a fact that there was no functional sewage system in place for the underground city. The piles of waste outside people’s’ windows was enough of a testament to that. Life in the village had made me accustomed to the smell of waste yet the townspeople were above that, or at least the human townspeople were. We intentionally walked slowly, as if we lacked purpose; Frode insisted that it was the best way to avoid attention. During our journey we walked past several ‘official’ entrances to the city above, it was guarded by men in rigid stone masks.

“If they know you’re all here, why don’t they kill you?” I asked

“After the events of the second world conquest, beastmen have certain rights. To kill them without reason would be to oppose the decree of the King of Uruk. Even here, after all this time, that’s basically suicide.” Frode responded in a hushed voice.

“What happened?” I whispered

“Now’s not the time for that.” Frode pressed on.

Eventually we reached a small wooden building; it seemed to be thrown together with various types of woods and metals. Frode knocked on the down and a beastman with large nose and an altogether rat-like appearance answered.

“Hello Marko,” Frode said, his practised phase smile and jovial tone felt alien. Marko looked at me and then back and then finally surveyed the surrounding area.

“You took your ti-” Marko answered

“Not now let us in” Frode insisted, breaking the façade.

Marko lead us into a room where a lizard man waited, or perhaps lizard-woman would be more appropriate. Everything was ready, we just needed a way in, for that we had contacted Forde’s supplier, a lizardman. Initially I had assumed that lizardmen were just another subtype of beastmen, like the harpy from my dream. This wasn’t the case, under closer inspection the creature before me was not a large bipedal lizard, she was large enough to dwarf me, was covered in scales and more closely resembled a serpent with hands and feet, being that her torso was thin, long and oddly flexible. Of course that isn’t to say that all lizardmen look like this just that this one did. She was draped in long dull clothe.

“What can I do for you my friend,” she asked, it was directed at Frode yet her eyes wondered to me and the spear on my back.

“We need an exit into the upper city,” Frode said, “If you would be kind enough to oblige us,” he nodded his head, was it a sign of respect, in either case she nodded in response.

“Your really are rude dear friend.” She said, already moving towards a stole and the book placed on it. She flicked through the pages, “You haven’t introduced us to your new friend, a troll and a smart one at that.”

I went to speak but Frode raised his hand to stop me. “I would like an entrance near the church of the Dumuzid” he continued ignoring her last statement.

“Give him to me,” she said, having stopped at a page and held it to her chest, preventing us from seeing.

“NO.” Frode insisted. For a moment, the air became very stiff, the rat man fled and the Lizard woman’s eyes lit up, and then is was over. The moment passed and Frode signed as his shoulders fell.

“Very well, here is the location you seek,” she hissed, notably upset, “Now what will you compensate me with,” Frode immediately threw a small bag of money her way, looked at the map and walked out of the room, taking me with him.

We were outside of the wooden building and a far distance away before Frode explained, “She is a sorceress, one you can’t beat, without proper magical protection an exchange of names will be all she needs to bring you to ruins.” Frode warned.

“Does she know your name,” I asked, remembering how neither of them had spoken the others name,

“Do you?” he smiled as we continued to a dark and cramped alley and the ladders that lead up into the city above.

“Yes I do.” I insisted, Frode’s’ name was easy enough to remember,

“Then say it,” he could barely contain himself as he climbed the ladder, leaving me to take on most of the heavy lifting.

I couldn’t, was this, the protection he told me of. Did he enchant me or his name?

We emerged from a small break in the street. Frode worked quickly to replace the tiles we had displaced. The air was clear and the sky was a dark blue, as we had planned, it was early in the morning, the city was largely quiet as we had timed our assault between the bustling night life and the early commuters. We walked to the edge of the street; around the corner pair of masked men was patrolling the area. The church was located in the centre of the city; it was made from the same yellow stone as the walls and was built in increasingly thin square tiers, each tier being reaching higher into the air then the last. By the third tier it was the highest building in the city, one that could easily be seen from outside. Frode waited for the pair to pass us and then hurried up to the side of the church.

“There’s an entrance in the side,” Frode whispered back to me as I followed him. Sure enough, two large wooden doors could be found by the side, with a pair of guards beside it standing watch. Frode smiled at me as if to say, watch this.

He pressed his hands against the flour and the tiles quickly became indistinguishable from each other. As he moved his fingers ripples in the flour stretched out towards the guards. They fell into the flour with an odd splash. Then Frode removed his hands from the ground and slandered over to the door. The grin on his face was undeniable. We reached the door and took a moment; there was no turning back now. Frode pressed his hand on the door and closed his eyes, it exploded inwards, and we stormed the church.

Year 1667 Month 05 Week 06 Day 09
The muffled pitter patter of feet beating the ground echoed through the corridor, as per the plan, I was walking alone heading towards where Toby would likely be held. In the background I could hear the hurried acolytes running. Whether towards or away from me I could not tell, only that someone was would catch me if I didn’t hurry.

According to Fordes’ information, the masked men held executions during midday, and that if they had someone as high profile as Toby they would undoubtedly make a speckle of it. The information was hard to swallow but it made them predictable. Supposedly all prisoners are held in a prison under the western wing, as we had entered through the west, I would have to make a mad dash for it. Frode was heading to the north wing as that was where the treasury was positioned and the most probable location of Toby’s sword.

I ran out of a corridor into a large rectangular room, the marble floor was polished enough so that the reflection of the overhead display could be visible, a painting of angels meeting man in some kind of garden or forest spiralled over the ceiling. At one end was an enormous wooden door, its deep brown colour compounding on the feel of the dark red drapes that decorated the walls, on the other end was a wide staircase that split in two and went off and curved into the upper floors of the east and west wings. More importantly was what met me inside this room. Three masked men, dressed in long black robes spotted me the moment I entered. They must have been heading towards the staircase, and as a result stood between me and a door that led into the eastern wings first floor.

There was no running away, so I acted quickly, reaching into my pack I grabbed one of the vials Frode had prepared for me. I took a mental note of where the three men stood and through the viral into the ground. Smoke consumed my vision in an instant. I ran forward, tackling one man into the ground and running past the other two. I reached the wall on the other side of the room and felt around for a door handle.

That’s when a hand grabbed my shoulder. I had muffled words mumbled in the background as my apprehender called out “I have the intruder”; before I could pull myself free the smoke was dispersed almost as if it had been pushed back in every direction, with the remaining masked man in the epicentre. He was the shortest of the three and propped up his fallen comrade. The man who held me looked around almost admiring his allies’ handy work. Seeing this I place my fist in his face. The mask bonks against my hand, and a sharp pain sends my hand into a terrible red before quickly dissipating. Still, the attack is successful, the man’s head was thrown forward, he even stumbled back and all while releasing me. I dashed to the side, there was no avoiding this fight, but it needed to end quickly. One of the masked men, the one I floored, had stood up and ran up the stairway, I tried to stop him, this time with my spear at hand, but the first man, the one who had grabbed me, stood in my way. He produced two large daggers from under his robe; he held them in a loose stance with both blades pointing downwards. However the threat he posed didn’t stop me. It was his mask. My punch had cracked the right side of his stone mask allowing for a portion of his face to be seen. His eyes were emerald with black slits in the place of pupils, stranger still was the fact that these eyes were framed by a thick layer of fur. He was a beastman. Then, as if alive, the mask on his face started to shift and move, the opening made the crack slowly closed, and just like that, the identity of my opponent was lost to the world.

He ran at me and I steadied my spear. Thrusting forward when he got in range, but the masked beastman avoided my assault by the breadth of a hair, He hooked the end of my spear under his dagger and crouched low, bringing my weapon with him. I released the bear and awoke the soldier, and my muscles eased in the process. Then he pounced, bringing his spare hand up to my neck. I hardened my grip on my spear and pulled my head back, following my head came my shoulders and then my arms, and with that I pulled my spear up from under the beastman, its blade sought out flesh and its pole throw him into the air. In a single movement, my spear was up above my head and he was in the air, with a trail of blood spilling out of him. That’s when a crackle of lightning throws me across the room. I plunged in the marble floor and looked up at the second masked man, a sorcerer that I had neglected up until now.

On impulse, I’m back on my feet in fighting stance, before the body of the masked beastman reaches the floor. The beastman lands on his feet before kneeling to the ground, one hand reaching down towards the source of the bleeding. He tries to get up, but falls again the moment his weight moves to his left leg. Still, his ally, the second masked man was ready and watching me, putting himself between me, the staircase and the door to the eastern wing. I ran for him as soon as I was sure the beastman would live.

The sorcerer wouldn’t be able to repeat that spell quickly, it was my turn and I had to make the most of it. I even made a point of counting in my head: three, four, five…

I stood before him and I whacked the masked sorcerer with the pole of my spear, the blow went well enough, hitting him inside with enough force to throw him into the wall, he slumped to the floor and I considered attacking again (…nine, ten, eleven, twelve) then he reached his hand out, as if begging me to stop. And I did too, until I heard his mumbled voice, with is a gush of wind hit me like a bus. Ploughing into me and ramming through the wall behind me. I lie in the rouble. Looking up to find several masked men look down at me. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel anything at the time, I didn’t feel pain, in fact my eyes were wide open. I had concussion. One of the masked men stomped on my head and that was it for me.

I woke up in the year 0047, once again I was Sibri, and I stood in the circle of soldiers. In front of me was a man dressed in rags, much like myself.

To win back the good graces of my king, I must prove my strength; the same was true for the man in front of me. He charged forward, planting his foremost less than an inch from my own. He had gone into a stance, twisting his hips and throwing all his weight into a single hell Mary. I stepped out of his path and grabbed his arm. Pushed my palm into the back of his elbow and then turned that hand into a tight ball of a fist. He recovered his composure just fast enough for my own fist to be launched into his neck. Meanwhile my foremost foot hooked into the back of his leg, kicking upwards as the blow to his neck sent him back. My opponent had fallen to the ground, his legs flailing above his head for the briefest of moments. Then I slumped down onto him.

Both fists at the ready, I didn’t let up until he was dead. Then I got up and readied myself for the next opponent.

Year 1667 Month 05 Week 06 Day 10
I woke up screaming, crying and in chains. My body ached, my chest especially felt very sensitive. Looking down, there was a large burn mark across it from when the masked had struck me with lightning.

I was in a cell. There were no lights, or windows, only a veil of shadows that prevented me from seeing anything further than a couple yards. That’s when a short masked man stepped forward,

“How is our favourite, little Troll?” He asked, with a practised jovial tone to his question. He seemed to study me, which made me oddly aware of how naked I was, “Tell me. How did you do it?”

I answered with, “Go to h-“

“I mean, you are a troll, and as such you’re strong, but as young as you are, you shouldn’t be anywhere near this level. More than that, your knowledge of alchemy was incredible. Granted, nothing I didn’t already know, but the bombs you had made were still old and obscure. I paid good money for secrets like that….” He wasn’t really talking to me anymore; it was all being said to himself more than anything else. In either case, the act of speaking caused my chest to move, which hurt a lot, so I let myself zone out of that and focus on breathing. Breathing in and out, that was about as much as I could manage. I was placed in an upright sitting position, against a cold stone wall with cuffs and chains that, while loose at the moment, they were undoubtedly too short for me to reach the Dwarf even if I was able.

Time went on and eventually the masked man decided to leave. With a word a small bright speck illuminated the room, revealing to me that I was not alone. Frode left and I couldn’t help but ask, “Toby is that you?”

I couldn’t see the other prisoner, but I didn’t need to, “You found me,” Toby groaned “Look,” there was a long pause, but I waited and when Toby didn’t say anything.

I beckoned, “What, are you still with me” The thought of Toby dying mid-sentence occurred to me, what did they do to him? Worry gave me new vitality as I desperately tried to see if he was okay.

“Got yer.” Toby giggled

“Go to hell you oaf.” I responded, the relief put a smile on my face. I fell asleep in that cell. It was the longest sleep I had ever had.

This dream went back to the moment in the tent, Sibri’s confession. I was ashamed, “It’s true, I am a woman,” I closed my eyes, mostly to hold back the tears.

Then my focus flashed forward, the year: 49. I stood before Gilgamesh, the crowd of soldiers roaring. My chest heaved as I panted my hand numb from how hard I had gripped my now broken sword. Beneath me was a large insectazoid, its exoskeleton penetrated by the other end of my blade that still protruded from its head. The beast was large enough for me and potentially several other people to stand on it comfortably. I studied my dreaded foe, a pool of acid spit gathered around its gaping jaw. Then I dared to look up at my king. The crowd grew silent, awaiting his verdict, and then he smiled and nodded. I had finally saved grace. He beckoned me closer and said, “As you are aware, I am old, yet my campaign is far from over. Surely even you have heard the legends, the secret to eternal life.” His voice was not what I remembered, it didn’t boom, as if made lame by age his voice was more reminiscent of a simple man then the force of nature he had been. Gilgamesh spoke again, “I would have you join me,” then I saw where this would lead,

“You mean to make yourself immortal,” I asked, now looking religiously at the ground,

Gilgamesh continued, “And you will help me.” I nodded in acceptance before he could finish his sentence.

Year 1667 Month 06 Week 07 Day 01
I woke up to my stomach rumbling. Toby almost laughed at me as I struggled to stay awake.
“How can you be so happy right now?” I asked,

“I can I not be,” he said, his chains clicked and clacked as he moved behind the blackness.

“I think your alchemist friend betrayed us.” I gave up the information,

“Yeah, Him and his sister is a couple of bad apples,” Toby replied, “Did you see the goons under the masks?”

I almost jumped at the memory, “are they controlling beastmen?” I asked, “Will they try to control us?”

“Hey don’t jump to conclusions like that. It makes it hard to keep up. But don’t worry; if they were going to control us they would have already done so.” He paused, allowing silence to take the room, and then spoke again, “So, how’s the injuries now.” He smirked. I checked the burns on my chest, it had cleared up nicely, it didn’t hurt so much now but it was still a bright red.

“It's fine,” I tried to get up, but the chains pulled my wrists down and kept them down too low for me to fully stand. I let the bear out; raw strength was all I needed. So I tugged against the chains again.

“What are you doing,” Toby asked,

“I’m,” I leaned away from the chains, “getting,” the links began to groan against me, “out of,” and then the links broke, “here” the last word came with relief as I calmed down.

“Did you just break those chains?” Toby asked amazed, as he should be,

“Maybe,” I responded, wondering into the dark cell,

“Good, because I’ve been ready to escape for a while,” I heard him jump up and then a crash. With it came a rush of light that momentarily hurt my eyes. Toby stood in the doorway, two guards came for him, and Toby kicked the first guard going straight for the crouch. Another kick sent the first guard flying into the second. They hit the wall together, and as they were both clambering to get up, Toby took a shot at their heads cracking them against the stone walls one after the other. With that they were down. I searched them for their keys, and for any potential weapons. Each had a small sword and a robe but when I offered one to Toby he declined without raising a hand. We hurried to the end of the corridor and then out and up a flight of stairs.

The spiralling staircase went on for what felt like an age, each level having several corridors that branched off of the stairs. We finally reached the top with a trap door being the only thing between us and the ground floor but when we reached it Toby, who had taken the lead up until then, paused and then made way for me, “You better open this one,” he said in an oddly serious tone, and then he remembered himself and smirked through his teeth. So I reached up and pushed against the trap door, it resisted, so I gave the beast of the forest a turn and pried it open.

The trap door led to a corridor that wasn’t exactly empty. As if they had been expecting us, ten masked men stood in formation. Almost instantly Toby literally leaped into action. Heading knee first into the closest assailant, the naked beastman was relentless in his assault, so much so that I found it hard to believe they ever managed to catch him in the first place. That being said, I let Robert die, and Sibri awoke within me, I even called on the bear for a tad of extra strength. With that, I joined the fray. Running past the first two, I approached my intended target; one of the masked men had sent his sights on Toby and was aiming to attack him from behind. Not that it mattered, before he know I was there I planted the butt of my short sword into his neck, all while hooking the back of his knee with my foot and kicking upwards. In a second, I had sent the masked man head first into the ground. Toby gave me a nod and moved on to the next victim. For a moment I was afraid the masked man was dead, thankfully he kept breathing. That’s when I heard the two behind me, and spun back, using my momentum to drive the flat side of the blade into the side of the first ones’ head. Then there’s the next one, which ran, unhindered, at me, only for me to send a kick at the side of his knee. With that I brought the butt of my sword down on his collar.

Just in time to see Toby fly over my head. Looking towards where he had flown from. Could it be the same sorcerer that launched me through a wall? “I want that one” Toby called out before he had even gotten up. The masked sorcerer began to back up behind two other masked men. With me in-between them and Toby I ran forward, I lashed out at the closest with my sword. He tried to parry the blade but I dropped it as soon as they clashed.

Confusion hit him, and then I did. I grabbed the side of his head and slammed him into the wall. It was crude, but effective. Perhaps too effective I stood over the limp body waiting for signs of life. The second masked man had come up behind me, only to be taken to the ground by a strong blow to the thigh and stomped into the ground. I turned to find Toby had saved me and gave him a nod. With no one left to fight I took a step back and watched Toby confront the sorcerer. The last masked man released a gush of wind, the very same spell that had overwhelmed me. One I thought was impossible to react to. Toby proved me wrong, He started moving before the spell had even finished being cast, using the body of a fallen enemy for footing and vaulted over the wall of force, as if he could see it as clear as day. The gust of wind hit me, but by then it had been diminished by distance and only managed to make me stumble back. When it cleared the only one left standing was Toby.

“That was fun,” he panted, “Now let’s go get my sword,” he turned and started jogging down the corridor. I followed and watched his hands while he wasn’t looking. Toby’s hands had been covered in blood. I assumed it was someone else’s. But I was wrong.

I wanted to ask him about it, but somehow addressing it felt like a betrayal. Toby was a ray of light that wouldn’t be bogged down by the dirt and maleficence of this world.

We had reached the rectangular room; oddly enough it had already been repaired. The room was empty leaving a clear path up the stairs and into the second floor of the Church. Following the stairs and going straight into the large wooden doors into a congregation room. It was set up like a cross between a large theatre and a stereotypical catholic church. Rows of wooden seats faced the stage, in its centre stood a pedestal and a podium.

“Well this is all nice and fancy,” Toby asserted as he already made for the stairway behind the stage.

“Where are you going?” I asked,

“Something you don’t know, huh?” he teased and pressed on.

Behind the staging was a stairway that led up to the highest point of the church, before we could get there, however, someone stepped up from the wooden chairs. He was so short, making it understandable that we wouldn’t see him, but for Toby to be surprised, this individual would have to have no scent. We stood on guard and the little man walked towards us. It was Frode.

“What are you doing here?” I inquired, spear pointed at him.

Toby did not wait for an answer, he ran at Frode, furious, “This was your fault!” he growled as he jumped up for a flying kick. Frode placed his hand on the bench. The wood twisted and turned as he mumbled. Eventually it had become an odd, contorted arm, it caught Toby in the air and held him there, it tightened and Toby grimaced.

“Now how about you tell me how to use this sword?” Frode said, his voice was much deeper and rougher than before, he had dropped the façade.

On his back was the sword Heylel, chained up and tied into its scarab. For the moment, I let myself think. Frode was a sorcerer, I couldn’t compete with that. But perhaps Cosmo could. I allowed myself to recall the old man. Robert died, Cosmo was reborn within me.

I knew that I had to retrieve the Heylel; with it Toby would easily overwhelm the Dwarven sorcerer. I watched his lips move, when he paused, I ran forward. He spotted me as I approached and smiled, he saw me coming, good. With him watching I throw the spear at the dwarf. The still instrument arced through the air wonderfully and an appendage separated from the transmuted bench.

I, now as Robert, channelled the king of the forest and charged forward. I roared as the Dwarf stared up at me, according to my calculations (as Cosmo) there was a three second window in-between one use of that spell and another and at the distance we stood apart, the bear could make it in one.

I was on Frode, having passed the wooden appendage; I grabbed hold of him and lifted him off of the ground before slamming him sideways into his own wooden creation. The structure shook and he practically whelped. While I had him I pried the sword from him and threw it to Toby all while holding one hand over the Dwarfs mouth. It took everything not to crush his head.

Toby caught the sword in his jaw and shook his way free. We both loomed over the Dwarf for the moment, Toby nodded a thanks (the sword was being held, by its handle, in his mouth); and then erupted into a brilliant light, Frode screamed and wormed until I let him go. The Dwarf fled the second he was able, we didn’t do much to stop him.

That’s when Toby tapped my shoulder, and I looked forward towards the stage. The stood a man in white robes, and a metal mask. He held a staff in his hand. Was this the Dumuzid?
I heard something odd from him, from under those robes. A tick and tightening resonated out, he and stepped down off of the staging, “You animals dare defile the house of Inanna.” He spoke like it hurt. Then he exploded forward, shattering the staging behind him in a flash.

Before I knew what happened, Toby had collided with him, a shroud of light enveloping him. The Dumuzid had stuck Toby with his staff, with all the force of a ballistic missile, and Toby had held it at bay, with a foot.
“Get out of here,” was all that needed to be said, I ran, letting Toby have this one. Above my head, the fight had evolved into flashes exploding against each other.

I ran down the stairs into the rectangular room, masked men rushed passed me, they completely ignored me; I took the chance and reached out for one of their masks. Grabbing it I tore it from the man’s head. It would seem that he, was a she- Then the ceiling shattered with a deafening bang as a body was thrown across it, through it. The Dumuzid, now covered in dry blood, recovered and zoomed past; but Toby was there, sword in mouth, he span his entire body in mid-air batting the Dumuzid through another wall before chasing after him via the freshly made gaping hole.

I turned back to the woman, supporting her for the moment until I was sure she could stand. Her wide-eyed expression made her seem new to the world as she looked down at her gloved hands. I moved on to another masked man, they were running through the hole in the wall.

That’s when the floor shook and the story above this one threatened to fall on top of us. So I started to lead the unmasked beastmen out through the large wooden doors.

There were six of us in all, all running for our lives as the building fell to pieces around us, the cracking and smashing of stone and debris was all we could hear. Then there are the explosions. By the time we made it out of the compound, it was already morning, a crowd had gathered to receive us.

I turned and watched, looking for any indication of Toby being okay. That’s when he and the Dumuzid shot out from the ruins of a church; the Dumuzids’ arm had become a black mass, one that he used to slam Toby back into the rubble. Large bulbous masses of flesh pumping and expanding from under his robes, the Dumuzid looked like a monster with a metal face. Toby zoomed back at him, circling behind the creature before slashing him with a flicker of his head, the monster screamed as the sword cut into his flesh. The Dumuzid was being scorched by the light, from inside his body. Then he retreated and saw us, the crowd of horrified people.
“You sheep, come to thy shepherd,” the monster called out to us.

The individuals I had saved, along with several random people from the crowd, doubled over in agony. Then they spewed some kind of clay from their mouths, the clay defied gravity and pooled up onto their faces, forming a rigid stone mask.

They took steps towards the monster, before I placed myself between it and them, I wouldn’t let him have his way.

The woman I saved raised her arms only for wings to fold out of them, she was a harpy, and she flew past me to the one who controlled her. Toby tried launching at the creature, but it was too late, the monster's neck extended and the metal mask parted horizontally to make way for a mouth full of teeth. The creature had reached out for the harpy and clamped down on her waist before Toby could get there. We watched as the Dumuzid crushed her waist and the slurped the rest of her body, fresh red blood gushing everywhere. As he swallowed her whole, the Dumuzid seemed to get notably bigger. When Toby reached him, the demon, with a flicker of his tendrils, slammed Toby into the ground. It lunged up and into the crowd, growing multiple mouths as it consumed more and more people. The scary thing was, they didn’t try to run –it was right, they were sheep and they simply watched as the slaughter approached. Blood was everywhere and Toby hadn’t recovered.

I ran to Toby to find him is a dreadful state. He lay there unconscious with the sword by his side. There was nothing else to do, so I reached down for the sword. “Sell my soul.” the words slithered out of my mouth, and then I let it go. What did Toby do in exchange for that power?

I looked up at the goliath that was terrorizing this city, the monster leaned onto the ground and rubbed itself against the blood on the ground, licking it up whenever its many mouths came to a particularly damp section.

I picked up Toby and, using a piece of cloth to cover it, the sword. Then I turned around and ran for dear life. That’s when Toby said it, “fine,” ignoring me entirely, “I hereby relinquish my soul,” With those words, the world turned black. The monster that was the Dumuzid stopped in his tracks and watched wordlessly.

The darkened sky twisted and turned until a tornado of black clouds formed above us. We were in the eye of the storm surrounded on all sides by walls of swirling shadows. Below us the ground started to crumble, hands reached upwards and dragged us down, through the undercity, and then deeper into the ground. Until we reached a plane of fire and anguish, the floor covered in red hot coals that burned the flesh it touched. I could see Toby as his body shifted and changed, cuts severing the tendons along his arm sprayed blood, the blood doubled over and coloured his arms in a deep dark red. The sword came into view, extending in size to match its new wielder. “There must be a sacrifice. I must take your soul” Toby said, and he punctured my heart with the blade. I watched my body shrivel.

The re-write for the Phoenix: A Tale of Rebirth can be found at this link: http://royalroadl.com/fiction/4945. This version varies greatly from the original here at writing.com however, it will be continued well beyond this point of the story. So check it out, hopefully you'll enjoy.