Glory of the Fall Ch. 02

Author's Note: Votes tallied. And because I'm a mean ol' bastard, I'm eliminating more than one of the options, this time. Remember to let me know who you think should survive - because any of them could. But whoever doesn't... Can never, ever, ever, return.

---

"I'm still not clear on why you wanted this to happen, other than you're a sociopathic bitch of the highest order." Arina sneered, glaring at the golden fox.

Mischief was leaning over the world the gods had built for the tournament, hips and butt swinging in utter excitement. All seven of her tails were on full display and the goddess was beside herself, with the largest and stupidest grin.

The kitsune shrugged, bright-eyed, "What do you mean? They all served me, at one time or another. Whether they knew it or not. Of course I'm excited to have them back."

"They all served you, because they were connected to my wife." Arina said with irritation, "A wife, need I remind you, that you turned against. You used Toofy, until she wasn't what you needed anymore. So with her out of the picture... Are you looking for a replacement?"

The orange-eyed woman laughed loudly, "You think I expect to actually win this, Arina? I know you're bitter about me betraying the cat. You don't need to remind me. But... Why would any of the others let me win? I'm doing this... Because it doesn't fucking matter if I win or not... I'll still win. Chaos is my goal. Nothing more or less."

"Oh, cut the crap." Arina rolled her eyes, "Tammy broke the Crucible and that fucked with your plans. I'm not like the others. I don't buy that you're a goalless insane bitch. Bitch, yes, but not insane. You're no madgod."

Mischief's tails went still, and she let out a small growl, "Yes. Yes, that did piss me off. Thanks for the reminder to hurt de Mao when I have some free time. It is true that... I have a goal, Arina. But... I'd be stupid to tell you. Maybe it would be fun to have you guess. Look at this first battle the others arranged."

"What about it?"

The kitsune laughed and grinned, "The others see the man who tried to become a god. A dumb cat, and a dumber human. But that's not what we see, is it?"

"Hmm." She rolled her jaw, "Kaden... Was Meirakeillian's lover, for a time. He used her, but she cared for him. His presence may simply be you... Antagonising her."

The fox laughed, a trilling sound, "Ooh! She's good at this game! What about the other two, then? If I want Kaden to piss her off, he has to survive."

"No, he doesn't." She shook her head, "Westcolm died at Mia's hands, last time they met. No salamander, let alone a king, could accept the return of an opponent like that. She'll lose her temper."

The kitsune wiggled in excitement, "Oh, goody. Yes. That's the only reason I invited his attendance. He's a useless prick to me, for the most part. He's intelligent, human, and has magic. But... I've got no real use for someone like that. Sai's wrath doesn't need a poor sequel."

"Westcolm trained Sai. As much as I like the man, Westcolm could very likely defeat him, were he to be resurrected." Arina said dubiously.

Mischief shrugged, "That's not interesting to me. The humans can have their war, I don't care either way. The empire's troubles mean nothing to me. That's not what I'm doing in their world. I used Toofy to destroy the Divine Gate. What exactly do you think I'm using Tauli to do? Why did I need to up the power scales, this time around?"

"I hate you." Arina sighed heavily, "Finally... Daen. He protected Toofy, for a time. Fought against Meirakeillian. Yet... That doesn't seem like reason enough for her to hate him. You turned him into a staff for Orli, last time he died. Which she proceeded to shove right up Trician."

"He was planning on raping your wife." The foxwoman yawned, "The salamander will remember that. She'll be interested in eating his bones, in revenge. Again. By the end of her life, she was completely besotted with the cat. Toofy became her reason for existing. All she wanted was to have the cat's kid. Got annoying."

The goddess of death frowned, looking at the battle about to take place, "Oh gods. You plan on resurrecting Meirakeillian... So that you can stick her, Tauli, and Treichnor in the same fucking room. Three kings. The world could not physically survive a fight between those three. It would break continents, not cities. It would shatter the molten core."

"I would have brought back Irrlichdan, too, if I could find a way to convince the others. He still scares them, though. The first dragon to unite all dragons." The fox giggled. "But yeah. Congrats. I broke the Crucible last time, to get what I wanted. And it isn't just three kings. The catfish's dragon ain't nothing to sneeze at. This time around... I plan on sacrificing the world itself. And no one can stop me."

Arina ground her teeth together.

She was fairly certain the goddess was right.

She was also fairly sure she knew why the entire world had to die to get what Mischief wanted.

---

The emperor ran a hand across the black stone he found himself surrounded by. It was polished and bright, but darker than deepest midnight. There was a deep wrongness to the schorl. It felt like it had been processed, and yet there was not a single trace of any blade against it, not even one that could be felt by sensitive fingertips.

Perhaps the gods had grown it for the occasion.

He had been hoping to find a flaw, or pattern. Something that he could use to twist the environment to his favour. He had grown accustomed to magic, in life. Yet almost all of his magic had come from Menes' experiment.

His true weapon in this coming battle would be his humanity. The ability to rapidly adapt to, out-think, and exploit his enemy. It was possible that they would not know who he was, so he couldn't rely on bluffing or intimidation, but those would only work against an enemy who stopped to speak to him first.

This stone could help him project his voice, hide his location as he goaded the truth out of his enemy, but that was such a shallow and boring tactic that he was insulted that his own mind was considering it at all.

The schorl was flawless. That was a weakness more worthy of the emperor's consideration.

The black stone hemming him in was also arranged peculiarly. To the average fool, it would appear to be some kind of haphazard labyrinth. However, the polished surface was such that you could not approach from any side without being easily spotted, no matter where your opponent might lie.

Which was how Kaden could see that he was currently being approached by at least one figure. One he had not ever expected to see, again.

"I wonder, Lord Westcolm, just how close together were our deaths? I can only presume that the same exotic beast is responsible." He stated confidently, watching for the reaction.

"She was plotting your demise, when I opposed her." Westcolm laughed and rounded the corner into the same space. "I assume you speak of Lord Sai's bride. The infamous little Twenty Four. Though... She is not entirely responsible for my death, your grace."

Kaden nodded tiredly, "I was more speaking to my own little traitor. The draconid. She was useful, but I assume the cat beat her, forcing the dragon into some stupid loyalty pact. What was her name? She was an artist... A red salamander..."

"She ended my life." Westcolm nodded, "But she... Was no longer red, when I died. She was something... New. Part red. Part black. She fought like Irrlichdan, your grace. I would say she embodied his damned spirit. His fucking equal."

He leaned against the wall, "What was her name? I almost let her fertilise her egg. She was... Enjoyable. I am certain that Lady Efina told me her name... Ah. It'll come to me, in time."

The position and attitude served two purposes, neither of which would be lost on the man who had struck down Irrlichdan. Leaning on the stone made it likely that the spell would be transferred to the flawless material, which could cause it to rebound and strike the caster. The second was a mind game. Kaden was pretending to assume that Westcolm would be loyal to him, pretending to believe the man was less than him. That he didn't imagine himself being attacked by his former mentor.

Westcolm's eyes weren't green anymore, but there was still something off about the way the lord was carrying himself. His brown eyes were charged with magic, a spell ready to be unleashed... His expertise had been in destruction magic. A single strike might be all it took.

Kaden was glad that it wasn't just the two of them standing in the room, or he might well be fucked.

"Did you ever think it would be a dragon to put us down?" Kaden laughed bitterly, "You trained me to fight nekos. Butchering the cats... That was a skill, all on its own. How many did we kill, Westcolm? How many by my hand? By yours?"

It was clumsy, but it did the trick.

The invisible neko pounced at the emperor, placing his body between Kaden and Westcolm. Claws struck against the stone of the wall as Kaden easily avoided the predictable attack, before he unleashed a rapidly expanding fireball into the neko's gut.

The flames doubled back towards the emperor, as he dove to the ground and out of the way. Allowing the spell to strike the wall, and recoil violently as it destabilised. The neko's body fragmented into a concussion weapon, pieces of it projected violently through Westcolm.

For his part, the lord had discharged his own spell. Parts of the attack were caught by the neko's flesh, and the rest hit the black stone and rebounded. Westcolm destroyed nothing but his own hand.

Kaden stood up, brushing himself off calmly, "A touch of irony. The god who has claimed me for this little... Piece of entertainment... Is the nekan goddess. Luna. Yet racism against her kind preserves me. Who are you sworn to, m'lord?"

The soldier cradled his bleeding and burnt stump impassively, "Yasmina. Goddess of -"

"Flowers? The fuck?" The emperor looked at him in confusion, "What... What the fuck does flowers have getting involved in a battle to the death? And why would she be interested in... You?"

Westcolm shrugged. The impassiveness was a character trait of the old soldier, but Kaden was not such a fool as to believe it. Some would truly think that flowers have no place on the battlefield. Others would comprehend that they had just copped a face full of pollen and what they were seeing and experiencing was no longer necessarily bound to reality.

Even the attack of the neko might not have occurred. He couldn't identify when it had happened, but now the suspicion had formed, there were other signs that he was dosed.

Not the first time a would-be assassin attempted to drug him, however.

Thankfully, when faced with a distorted reality, it was easy to predicate where your attacker is, because they continue to act as a person. Some will stand and gloat, others will attempt to not reveal where they are, positioning for the kill.

Westcolm, was the latter.

Kaden turned, a right hook slamming into the air for a moment, before the entire world became a shifting series of lights bobbing up and down. Stretching and elongating erratically as the man controlling the visions inside his skull hit the ground.

He shook the pain in his fist, before planting the kick. Ignoring his sense of vertigo, and in fact every other senses. His eyes, ears and nose were all lying to him. He ignored the tilting of the ground trying to tell him he was falling, and placed another strike into Westcolm's ribs.

"It isn't personal, of course." Kaden informed the man, "Only one may live."

---

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this." Elizabeth said stiffly, peering around at the reflective black rock, Xivian desperately tried to apologise to her. The halfelf hugging her from behind and trying to slip a questing hand beneath her dress as the other ignored her.

Liz had promised herself she was going to ignore all of this crap, after Kaden had turned her into a fun exercise in torture. Being locked away in the Traitor Emperor's cells had left an indelible mark against her soul. Taken a once haughty and confident lady with delusions of rights inferred by good breeding, and transformed her into a timid alchemist interested only in discovering the perfect cup of tea.

Yet, Xivian had sworn to always follow the Green Goddess.

Her wife might no longer be her handmaiden, but Liz felt indebted to her in a way that she struggled to express. She had believed herself so very superior, until the cat had slunk into their bed. Forced their love to bloom, whilst planning to murder the pair of them.

Liz was nothing less than conflicted by her thoughts on Toofy.

In times long past, Elizabeth had been more than just a wife with a penchant for poisoning her husband. One of the hobbies that the woman had excelled at, as she excelled at everything, had been the hunt. Not merely in riding a horse as the beaters drove the prey before her, but actual hunting.

Discussing politics as she'd drawn a long bow to release a singular arrow and take down the chosen target was something she had been exceptionally prideful about. Few had been better - Lords Sai and Elatham, as well as Westcolm if he could be bothered.

She had approached her life of politics as just another hunt.

Now, as then, Elizabeth was the grand huntress. A worthy mirror to the elven goddess, Artema. A quiet but fierce woman, the number of myths about her mythical patron were few and far between. The goddess only appeared when it became truly necessary, and largely after she had issued her attack.

Quiet Liz was an identity she was forced to discard, to do what was necessary. She had to remember what it was like before the cell. Before what had been done to her.

"I asked you to stay where we were, mistress." Xivian said bitterly, "Were I to succeed, in honour of the goddess, then we could yet have been reunited once more! Now, it cannot be."

Elizabeth paused, and brushed the cheek of her wife, before cupping it. "These few moments are our last. Who knows what dangers await us in this challenge? The Golden Kitsune is unlikely to only threaten us with fellow competitors. Chaos always brings the unexpected."

When the halfelf's cheeks reddened, Elizabeth reached up, briefly squeezing the tip of Xivian's ear between thumb and forefinger. Her wife sucked in her breath, and Liz kissed her nose briefly. Smiling at her, with the full adoration of her heart.

"D-don't..."

The halfelf caught the sudden jerk of her wrist, and Elizabeth stared at her in shock, both of Xivian's hands clasped around her, barely stopping the blade that had been meant to put her out of her misery.

Xivian yelled loudly, twisting her wrist and making her drop the knife, before a knee drove into Elizabeth's valley, and then her girlfriend was disappearing into the depths of the maze.

Liz looked at her fleeing back, not even trying to follow.

Feeling the crushing weight of the betrayal she had just committed.

---

Bones cracked and creaked as the one-time priestess explored a taste of the new magic granted to her by her patron. Efina had been hunting scraps of black magic in her previous life, before the trail of Toofy had led to her death. She'd severely underestimated that hatred of the neko when she'd put together her plans.

Efina felt relief as the agonising pain washed over her. Eluthei had granted in death what Efina could never hope to have accomplished in life. The last dregs of her humanity were now torn away. She was free from that species that she despised, that infectious and destructive virus upon society.

The cursed were Eluthei's little gift to the world.

Those who were tainted by black magic, but could not contain in it, became consumed by their magic. Effectively soulless, despite their overwhelming power. Beasts, consumed by the powers of a demigod. Divinity fuelled by wrath and rage, screaming into the void as she smiled back into them.

This gift of Eluthei that Efina was now experiencing was so much more than even that. The pain was a welcome cost, as she transfigured her form with blood, tar and magic. Stretching out in an imitation of the Formless One, elevated above all these living beasts.

To call Efina's new form tentacled was both completely false and completely true. She was no longer distinct. There were still bones, but their arrangement was haphazard and accidental. Constantly shifting. There were still organs, but only as needed, and only emerging from the quivering and excited mass as necessary.

Her hearing, her sight, even her sense of smell, had all been replaced by a sense of things. She felt slippery and wet as she knew that Death was claiming one of her fellow competitors. The dulling of Lord Westcolm's soul was delicious to her, though she had no taste, nor mouth, to speak of. She revelled in his terrified bewilderment as he slipped from the world. Groaned voicelessly as she felt the goddess of Death take the brightness of his soul and rend it into pieces.

She thanked her patron as she stretched out her essence, becoming a distortion in geometry as she flowed across the labyrinth. Hanging over it like a poor imitation of the goddess of blood, flesh and bone. She sought out the bright and twinkling lights that she could feel, hungering for their souls.

What more could she accomplish, were she to become one with their essences?

---

"You're such an idiot!" Trician hissed angrily, ears red and twitching, as she stamped alongside her girl.

Orli's incredibly bright blue eyes looked hurt, and she winced, "You weren't supposed to come with me! He wanted me here. But... I didn't want you to die! Whoever dies here, doesn't exist anymore! You should have stayed."

"The goddess said you die, unless I come, so fuck off." Trician snarled, glaring at the diamonds embedded in her arm. "Though, she's gone back to being silent."

"Don't you have to... Do stuff... To talk to her?"

Trician shrugged, "If I want to talk to her, yeah. But the other way isn't true. She could show me whatever she wanted, but she won't. She's already got what she wanted. Both of us, here. Fuck's sake."

Orli swallowed and lowered her gaze, "My stepfather... I... I've never met him. I know mum loves him. Adores his existence. He's never even acknowledged me before, Trix. What was I supposed to do? He chose me."

"The gods are fucking bastards, Orli!" Trician rolled her eyes, "The goddess got us both killed just so she could stick Toofy on the throne! Or did you forget being bloody well killed? Wasn't it such a nice way to die?"

"N-no."

The elf crossed her arms, "And what happened to my boyfriend, before you?"

"The goddess." Orli whispered.

Trician scoffed, "Not just the goddess. She hijacked an entire undead army from the bloody arachne to kill Kal. And she rubbed it in my face, after. Just because I worship the goddess, doesn't mean I love the bitch."

"He... Tai's different. He fell in love with mum. She's human."

Trician stared at her girlfriend incredulously, "Did you... Just describe, Eratigan, the White Witch, as human? Seriously?"

"Mum is human!" Orli protested.

The elf rolled her eyes, "A human who has been wandering around for a thousand years after her death because she can't comprehend that she's dead! How the frig is that... Human?"

"Mum's weird." Orli mumbled, "That's all."

Trician shook her head in disbelief, "If your mother wasn't completely batshit insane, she would have ascended to godhood by now. Don't pretend that she has anything normal about her. Tai didn't fall for a human. He fell for another god, who just didn't get that they were one."

"Mum's not a goddess!" Orli protested, "Ascension takes more than just insane power! If magic was all it took then Irrlichdan would have become a god."