Tales of Aion – Center of the Storm – Chapter Four

September 14,
2009


Tales of
Aion – Five-part Fictional Story – #

4


Tales of Aion
is a five-part fictional story written by Michael Lafferty at GameZone. It
traces the stories of two characters, one Elyos and one Asmodian as they move
through the world and into a battlefield where the races collide.. It is a
personal journey for each – Esala’ayni, the Elyos ranger, and Korasai, the
Asmodian spiritmaster – from their re-awakening in the world to their acceptance
of who they are and what their place is in the torn land.
 



The first
story centers on Esala’ayni
as she begins to realize what and who she truly is,
with each step in the land of Poeta revealing more and more about her nature and
her place in the Elyos society.
The second story takes on the tale of an Asmodian and his paths and thoughts
through his ascension to Daeva.
Story three continued the path woven by Esala’ayni.

 

Chapter 4
– Center of the Storm

Korasai
slapped at his neck. The small irritating bite ceased immediately, the source of
the pain crushed beneath the hand of the Daeva. The spiritmaster sighed, an
exhalation conveying contempt for where he was. Mahindel Swamp was an overgrown
jungle, rife with decaying smells, humidity that glued his robe to his skin and
a wide assortment of things – both small and large – that wished to feast on his
flesh.

His mind
wandered, envisioning

Pandaemonium – a city
of light and shadows. The waterfalls sang a lullaby to the soul while the lush
green plants provided a haven for the gentle songs and soft forms of varied
winged creatures. The world almost seemed at peace there, so far from the
troubles. Korasai found himself hungering for that place … at least it would be
better than deep within the swamp.

Still, he
was called to duty and that duty led him to this place – a far cry from the
rolling hills of his youth, and far more dangerous. It was not so much the Black
Claw tribe that he was concerned with, but rather those with him on this mission
– Gods’Ire the sorcerer, a lady gladiator named Reon and the cleric, Hannah.
Bugs bit at his skin, the Black Claw flashed weapons at his life force, but
these three fired barbs missiles at his mind.

The sorcerer
was staring at Korasai, his eyes almost mocking the spiritmaster. What the eyes
hinted at, the voice conveyed. “So let me get this straight …,” Gods’Ire said.
“You think that if your manifestation of fire – your elemental – kills
something, because you do not kill it directly yourself, you have no
responsibility for that kill?”

 “That is
one of the more ridiculous things I have heard,” said Reon, casually twirling
her halberd in her hands. It seemed a playful gesture but it was more than that.
Korasai had seen Reon put the halberd to work and while the twirling was playful
now, he knew it could turn deadly in a heartbeat.

“Your
floating friend there is merely an extension of your own will,” Hannah said,
“and thus what your elemental kills is by the force of your will. Whether your
hands bear the stain of their blood or not, you are the central part in the
deed.”

Korasai
merely sighed. It was the same argument he had had with himself on many
occasions.

 “And am I
not merely the ‘elemental’ or tool of those above me, the Daevas who sent me to
this place and tasked me with the death of this Black Claw leader?” he asked.
“And if such is the case, then it is they who are central to the deaths we bring
to this place, not I.”

The cleric,
Hannah, shook her head in resignation. Reon merely laughed. “We are Asmodians,
we serve however we are asked to serve to insure the survival of our people.
Whether that duty calls us to this swamp or to the Abyss to fight the Elyos, we
each must do what we can for our people.”

Gods’Ire
nodded in agreement. “When you accepted the call of ascension, you accepted your
duty to Asmodae. And right now our duty is to take the head of a leader of this
tribe, to cut the command head of those that threaten Altgard. Color it however
you see fit, but when battle comes, you had better be prepared.”

Korasai’s
eyes narrowed as anger trickled into his tone of voice, “Have I ever not been
prepared?”

 “Ha!”
laughed Reon, “my friend, you lead with anger and rage – that much is certain.”

For a
moment, Korasai thought about disputing the term ‘friend,’ but movement caught
the corner of his eyes. Something was sneaking up through the thickness of the
trees. He caught only a glimpse of a spear, and then below, the flash of stripes
– it was a Black Claw hunter with its’ companion tayga, a large feline animal.

 “I see it,
too,” Hannah said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Reon, behind you and to my
right. And sorcerer, be prepared. I don’t think this hunter is alone.”

The halberd
stopped twirling, the blade point upward. Reon’s eyes locked on Hannah’s, using
the eyes of the cleric to pinpoint the direction. The sorcerer appeared almost
relaxed, except for his necks muscles, which were tightening.

Korasai
inclined his head slightly downward, sending mental instructions to the fire
apparition that floated slightly behind him. There was a routine to follow when
the fight started.

The quartet
had been through this before, the protocol was clear. Korasai’s elemental would
take the brunt of the charge on his flanking side while the spiritmaster would
conjure up a root spell to hold off anything that got too close to the cleric.
Reon would meet the central charge of the enemy with one of her own, blade
dancing and creating a wide path of destruction. The cleric’s wards would center
on the gladiator. Gods’Ire would greet any attempting to flank on the other side
with his fire spells.

They waited,
silent, breath shallow.

And then it
began …

Two hunters
emerged from the trees, taygas out in front, roaring. Reon’s primal scream was
equally terrifying as the chain-clad gladiator ran toward the foremost attacker.
Hannah’s lips were in motion, her hands held up slightly, palms skyward,
whispering protective incantations.

The tayga to
the side nearest Korasai was hit hard in the chest from the attack of the fire
elemental that belonged to the spiritmaster. Korasai ignored the rest of the
battle, focusing on the tayga and the hunter behind it. He pulled a spell from
deep with, one imbued by the chill of winter, meant to stun and slow his enemy.
The elemental was slowly killing the tayga. Korasai added a fire spell to that
combat and the flames roared to life around the tayga, destroying the beast. He
sent the elemental at the dead animal’s Black Claw companion, at the same time
pulling more spirits from the planes outside the vision of others and setting
them in a constant attacking barrage.

The hunter
was fending off three enemies, then a fourth when Reon joined the attack. A
fireball, from Korasai’s right, sailed past them all, and within a matter of
heartbeats the hunter was dead.

“Some fun,”
Reon smiled, even as Hannah cast mending spells on the gladiator. “Now let’s
finish this!”

The quartet
of Daevas were in motion, running up the incline to the gate that barred the
clearing where their target was. There were three guards at the barrier. Reon
cut two down and Gods’Ire incinerated the third.

It was quick,
efficient, and relatively quiet. They stood in the shadow of the arch of the
barrier, and watched for their target. He appeared within moments.

Runurru of Misery, one of
the Black Claw leaders, emerged from a hut, stretched lazily in the morning sun
and turned to speak with one of the sentries.

Korasai was
about to say something when Reon let loose a yell and charged across the ground.
Another figure emerged from the hut, this one motioning with its hands – a mage.
Gods’Ire’s lips were also in motion, forming his own spell. Even as the Black
Claw mage’s hands came up to release its attack on Reon, Gods’Ire’s spell hit
it. The mage sagged back on its heels, eyes closing over, wrapped up in a spell
of sleep. The sentry threw itself between Runurru and the hard-charging Reon.

The ring of
steel-on-steel sounded horribly loud – too loud from Korasai’s perspective. He
spun on his heels, scanning the clearing, knowing that others nearby were likely
to have heard it.

“Go,” he
whispered, refocusing on Runurru, and the elemental hovering behind him glided
toward the target. The mage would still be a problem, but Gods’Ire was dealing
with him. Flames seared at constructed wards, bled through and licked at the
mage.  

Korasai
heard a grunt from behind and turned quickly. A roaming sentry had indeed heard
the clash of steel and had come up from behind, aiming a blow at Hannah. The
cleric was in an almost trance-like state, her mending spells and wards aimed at
Reon. If not distracted, the sentry would cut the cleric down. Korasai blasted
the sentry with an ice spell, knocking it backwards.


The sentry
growled, limbs slowed by the spell. A spiritmaster’s greatest ally is mastery of
the elements and Korasai called upon that knowledge. He called to the winds and
elementals responded. They buffeted the sentry and tore at its life force.
Spells of fire followed spells of ice and the sentry howled. Its bloodlust
refocused on Korasai and its eyes burned with hatred splashed with pain. Fire
and ice continued to assault the sentry, while the wind elementals roared
destruction.

Confused,
the spiritmaster was forgotten and the sentry swatted at the elementals. Korasai
summoned more fire and released his hatred into the ball of flame. Even as it
left his hand, he knew he was the master of this death. Every delusion he tried
to hide behind danced away from his hand with the burning missile. Flames
engulfed the sentry. It opened its mouth, as if to scream, but nothing came out.
Then it fell, little more than a smoldering corpse.

Korasai spun
but the other battle was almost over. Reon roared in triumph as the halberd
descended one last time, cutting deep into the chest of Runurru, slicing away
the remnants of life.

It was over
– the battle won.

Hannah
continued her ministrations, tending to her own wounds. Bloodlust faded from
Reon’s face and the breathing of the magic users went from rapid to normal.
Finally even Hannah was silent.

The quartet
looked at one another, a brief nod, and then wings sprouted from their backs,
collected and pushed against the air as they ascended into the sky above the
clearing. The four Daevas spun one slow circle over the clearing and then
wheeled to skim over the tops of the trees toward Altgard.

Previous chapters in the story:


Chapter One



 – The Despair of Innocence

The first story centers on Esala’ayni as she begins to realize what and who she
truly is, with each step in the land of Poeta…



Chapter Two – Common Ground

The second story in the five-part
series views the world from the perspective of an Asmodian spiritmaster named
Korasai. 



Chapter Three – Infiltration

The Elyos ranger is sent on her
first mission into Asmodae.