Malachi Armstrong

His blood boiled. Rising rage struggling with his sense of guilt and horror. Malachi knew himself enough to know which would win. There wasn’t any time to waste on draining grief. A distraction that would cause a cycle of self-blame. Neither of those could be allowed, no matter how deserving. So, for the moment, he chose to fill up on anger. It was a risk, but with the right motivation, wrath could be properly channeled. The leader of the Sixty felt very motivated.

Malachi breathed out as he picked up the shield that Allen had tossed at him. The last act of a dying man. He didn’t know why the mangled thing was important nor understand why strapping it on felt right. The shield was heavy, but it fit his mood. A humorless smile appeared on his face as the sword acolyte zeroed in on the lethal Ratsin. More a grimace as his rage was stoked. Like stinging fire in his veins.

The monster finished playing with Allen and turned to the crowd that stood before it. When the fire acolyte had fallen, the Sixty had stopped behind Malachi. They shifted into battlelines under the watchful bloodshot eyes. The body was completely and disturbingly still while the red energy flickered around it like seaweed in the ocean. A silence descended for a beat or two. Only Vivian’s angry tears echoed in the crossroads.

A twitch of the fingers and the bearded leader opened his mouth to call for an attack. The Ratsin was faster on the draw. It’s hideously dry mouth unhinged and a piercing sound burst through. This uttered sound couldn’t be called a scream, for it was far too unnatural. The attack seemed to harm not just their ears, but even their minds. Several of the Sixty shrieked while covering their ears. Dropping to their knees, unable to escape the sonic strike. The beast sprinted at their flanks. Aiming for the collapsed Vivan.

Roaring, Malachi refused the Ratsin. Mana flared in a blast of pale blue. The bearded man didn’t have Julia’s mastery of Form, but he could use it in bursts. The shield slammed into the Ratsin to throw it away from Vivian. Without Mana involved, it hurt enough to send a spike up his arm. The pain barely registered before the flame of anger warming his chest. He spat, “Lightning Blade!” A quick empowerment for one use. The electrified sword swung for the Ratsin. It rolled swiftly out the way. The two stared each other down, the wrathful to the hateful.

Dark purple threads descended on the monster. As it was wrapped up, the sword acolyte allowed himself to feel victorious. The Ratsin struggled viciously against the threads, but it couldn’t escape something that wove so easily in the air. Malachi was about to call for a full assault on the contained creature when a sizzling sound caught his ear. The hateful red energy broke free and the cocoon of Molly’s Mana lasted only seconds. Purple Mana melted and evaporated before the power of the dead thing.

The bloodshot eyes darted about the Sixty before settling on Molly’s pale face. That horrible high pitched scream erupted again. Having endured it before, they were better prepared for it this time. Only a few were crippled by the attack, but they weren’t prepared for it to leap into the center of them. The wicked claws of the Ratsin lashed out among the surprised crowd. Those reckless movements forced a space for the Ratsin as it came after the cool-eyed woman. Many were wounded as it tried to shift them away.

The Sisters were the first to recover as Molly retreated with a new spell on her lips. Cursed flames roared from the weapons of the three women. It was ineffective. Ghostly purple, green, and red fire rolled over the Ratsin, but the body was untouched. The inflicted wounds quickly stitched back together. In the end, they were barely an inconvenience to its charge.

Credit to the Sisters, they didn’t blink at the result. Instead, the three of them changed tactics to trying to sever or break a leg. That plan came to an end when a retaliatory kick raked across all of them. The wounds were severe and a healer’s attention would be needed. They and others were dragged to safety. The monster didn’t pay them any mind.

The Sixty had parted before the Ratsin and readied themselves. However, this left Molly isolated. Warner stood alone between the beast and its prey. Malachi cheered the big man on as he rushed over to join. He’s got the brawn to slow it down for the counter-attack, considered the bearded leader above the anger. Hell, the asshole might even break the damn thing for us! The thought didn’t slow his run, but his shoulders felt lighter.

Orange Mana hummed around Warner’s fists as the man squared off against the charging Ratsin. The beast tried to run over this obstacle. Its focus was only on Molly. A surging fist shot up in a perfect uppercut on the chin of the dead thing. The explosion of orange light threw the Ratsin on its heels. Warner didn’t pause. Anger that parallel Malachi’s burned on the man’s face. The brawler launched forward in a fury of blows that bought Molly more time. Each hit gained more ground between. Molly called out Void’s Impression. A purple cloud flowed over the face of the dead thing.

Warner paused to rev up a big hit. The whole time the Ratsin had been trying to get around and was driven away. Malachi couldn’t see the monster’s eyes through the magical effect, but the body language was clear. Its focus turned from the acolyte to the brawler before it. The charged blow came and the arm was shattered before impact by a slap from the Ratsin. Howling, Warner clenched his broken limb. The other monstrous hand followed up instantly by grabbing the man up and flinging him away.

The Mana covering the eyes wasn’t having any noticeable effect. The creature turned perfectly back to Molly. Every movement was as sure as before. Everyone was hesitating before the onslaught they just witnessed. Unsure what to do or even what would have an effect. Even the cool-eyed woman had lost some of her composure. She looked about her for something to save the day. Malach charged into the open space in the crowd that the Ratsin had created. Julia and Vincent broke the line in the sand too. The shieldmaiden slipped in front of the monster while the two men dove into an attack.

“UNLEASH EVERYTHING YOU HAVE!” shouted Malachi as electricity collected on his sword. “DON’T HOLD BACK, BREAK IT.” The Sixity woke from their fear. A surge of pale blue flowed outwards from their leader. Even the wounded twitched as if to get up and join. His throat stung from the effort. Thoughts clouded a bit as he was unsure how that had been done. Such curiosity was burned up in the haste of the moment.

The bearded leader had a theory on what it would take to kill the Ratsin. The healing factor wasn't regenerating, but instead a twisted restoration like their healing spells. It couldn’t create new matter, though reverting to an original state was possible. A clue had been that the hair of the beast was patchy from (likely) Allen burning it. Most of the fur would have been unsalvagable. We need lasting damage, thought Malachi. Elimination in one hit seems to be impossible for us. Holding back is too dangerous as well. Not against a monster of this level. Continuous brute force is our best chance to end this quickly.

Spell chanting filled the air as the three of them assaulted it together. Julia shattered her shield and sent the shards flying as the shieldmaiden changed forms. Rose slashes of energy acted as Vincent’s vanguard as the swordsman prepared a charged blow. Electricity sparked around Malachi as he intoned as much power in his spell as possible. Dark blue pierced the shoulder, a gouge into the ribs was dug by rose light, and the world went white when lightning burst out from a sword’s tip. The dead thing silently screamed as the body convulsed from the overpowering hit.

Following the training instilled in them from the previous two weeks of training, the three front liners jumped back. It was the range fighters' turn. Clarissa’s green arrow hit first and exploded off half the Ratsin’s head. The stone beneath the monster roiled. As it twitched from the lingering shock, stone erupted into jagged spears. Bones broke and flesh was torn. A violet swarm of shards drove down into the Ratsin and then exploded. The newly created shards then skewered down again to repeat the process. Ripped and shredded, it twitched hanging off the stone spears. Unwilling to fall, the monster was starting to pull itself back together when Jorgensen, boosted by Anastasia, summoned an electrified tornado. The wind whirled and howled over the impaled foe.

As the Jorgensen’s attack cleared, Malachi signaled for the melee attackers to charge in. This time it wasn’t just three, but everyone who was still standing. He wouldn’t risk giving it a chance to get up again. An encirclement of the Sixty ran in, weapons ready. They found only a broken skeleton piled between the stone intrusions. Warcries died in their throats and everyone came to halt. Except for Malachi. Their leader still had his anger flowing freely. He enspelled the sword again and lashed out deliberately at the skull of the Ratsin. It leaped out of the way.

Two red flames appeared in the eye sockets as the skull flew away. Red tendrils of light flowed out of the skull and dragged the broken bones towards the Ratsin. Their leader called for another ranged attack as the monster rebuilt itself. Arrows flew, but found it hard to catch the skeletal being. A green arrow streaked across the sky, but the Ratsin tossed a bone shard to detonate it. When the dead thing was whole, it dropped. Before the acolytes could act, the beast was among the melee fighters. A red glowing skeleton that moved speedily unburdened by flesh. Almost hovering across the ground rather than stepping on it.

The Sixty were getting slaughtered. Malachi fumed and tried to organize them. People were panicking as the frontlines took debilitating hits. Zachariah took two punctures to the shoulder and would have lost his head if not for Elena. The tall woman jumped in and took the blow on her shield, but wasn’t positioned for the slash that came for the thigh. The two of them were forced to abandon the front as they bled profusely. A red light festers in the wounds.

Without the heavy hitters, the casualty count rose and the Sixty broke. Malachi pushed forward as people ran from the skeleton horror. Suddenly it was just the three of them again. Vincent immediately engaged with Malachi as Julia worked to help the wounded to safety. Undistracted by Molly, the Ratsin evaded their attacks. The skeleton shifted and twisted as no flesh body could. Small cuts began to show on the two of them as they pushed the attack to buy time for Julia. The swordsman moved just enough to avoid most of the blows and stay close for openings. The bearded leader used the shield to block while still attacking. It was more throwing the shield in the way than practical blocking. It was enough for Malachi to keep going.

Julia joined their side. The wounded were safe. He knew more people had died, but he couldn’t allow himself to think too much about it. The balance with his anger had to be maintained or the despair would overwhelm him. Even with three of them, the skeletal Ratsin danced around them. They were enough to box it in, but lacked the decisive strength to end it. The monster tried often to lose them and attack others. Every time they pinned it back down. They couldn’t allow it free reign again.

Malachi wasn’t sure what signaled him. There was something like frustration in the creature’s manner. It leered at the wounded with a hateful hunger. Howling like the midnight wind, it pounced on Julia in a twister of bones and red light. The bearded man felt something crack inside him. A heavy breath was exhaled. He charged into the maelstrom. His shield knocked Julia out and left him standing inside. It whirled around with bones bashing and slashing at him. The sword acolyte swung with the shield to smash them away, but it was torn from his arm. Lost in the red light.

He didn’t despair. Malachi refused to feel it. Not yet. His anger flared and the Heartsong sang with it. Golden words came to him. This bundle of light was something different from the spells that had come before. It wasn’t an aspect of his nature, but a reflection of his actions. He reached for the golden song. The knowledge that flowed in was not the sweet revelation of before. Closer to a whisper of a terrible burden.

“I Am The Voice,

Chosen By Mine,

Unrelenting For Them,

By Their Trust,

Decisive Strike!”

His pale blue Mana flowed gilded. The woven energy passed through the stone sword in perfect harmony. His sword slashed and the red storm was cut. He moved again and bones shattered. One last strike saw the whole thing collapse. The bones clattered to the ground. Red flame eyes dim in the skull, but were undefeated. The dead thing pulled itself together like a broken puppet. The red tendrils were fading and bound close. All strength in tying the broken bones together. Any other reversion now beyond it, guessed Malachi.

The leader took a step forward, the gold and blue sword still pulsing in his hand. They attacked together, monster and man. Slashes opposing, of jagged bone claws and a sword signet of leadership. Malachi took the head permanently as the body turned to ash, but not before the dead thing took his arm. Skull, sword, and arm fell to the stone in distinct tones.

Malachi stumbled and fell to his knees. His left hand rose to the right shoulder and clenched at the pain there. It came back into his view bloody. The pain was almost tolerable for him and the loss was a growing seed that began to deflate his anger. All of this was secondary to his thoughts. The sword acolyte was more concerned that the Ratsin still lived. He pushed away from himself and looked for the skeletal horror. Only the skull remained. Clacking about as the only mode of travel was its hinged jaw. It was slowly and irregularly heading towards him.

A quick look saw the sword was too far away, but the shield was right there in front of him. Almost like it had been waiting for this moment. He looked at his bloody left hand. My dumb hand, but you’ll have to do, decided Malachi. The shield was heavy with one arm and the other a bleeding stump. Limping calmly, he reached the skull and raised the shield up. Then brought it down. Over and over. Someone was yelling, but it took a moment for him to realize it was himself. The yelling didn’t stop till the skull was powder. Slamming and Slamming. Breaking it as the dead thing tried to reform.

Someone tried to pull him away, but Malachi shrugged them off. Saying something partially audible about having to make sure it was gone first. Finally, the Ratsin stopped reforming and began to become a core. With the stages of destruction that the monster had gone through, the core appeared to form out of thin.

A healer came over to him, a cold and invigorating feeling washed through him. Their leader looked over to his right arm, but it was still gone. His dumb hand felt at the fleshy patch that was his replacement. I still have one arm, whispered Malachi to himself. It was barely heard in the snarl that was his thoughts. The anger had dispersed and the despair had flooded in. The recriminations were loud that he had set all of this in motion. “How much did I cost us?” He asked of the core, or perhaps the air.

“What do you mean?” questioned Molly. “You saved me. You saved us. That thing was running through us like all our efforts meant nothing. Even Warner was barely a moment's distraction to it.”

“Did Warner die too?” wondered Malachi softly.

“No, well, of embarrassment maybe,” smirked Molly. The cheer did not last long. “Just a little banged up.”

“Ah, good,” replied Malachi with a distracted nod. “I… I guess I won’t need to apologize to him then. Would have been awkward with him chomping to take my seat.”

“Why would you apologize to Warner?” frowned Molly.

He looked up at her with a look that said isn’t it obvious. “I got them killed. My decision got them killed... and then it snowballed into a travesty. They put me in charge, so it’s my fault.”

“Taking charge does mean shouldering the mistakes with the victories, but that is not the case here,” stated Molly. “No one knew a thing like that was coming. It seems like an aberration to me. Further observations needs to be done to make sure of that… but that is neither here nor there. You did not make this happen.”

“Sure, sure,” agreed Malachi absently. “We need to get moving. Back to the Hall. Is everyone ready to go? Were they waiting for me? Sorry about that… drifted off.”

“Malachi, listen to me,” urged Molly. “You saved everyone.”

A glint of rage appeared in Malachi’s eyes as he turned to meet her gaze for the first time. “Is everyone alive?”

“No…”

“Then, I didn’t save everyone,” growled Malachi.

“But, you did save a lot of us,” retorted Molly, her tone a mix of frustration and worry. “Do not destroy yourself over this!”

“Did Julia survive?” asked Malachi, his stare boring down on her.

“She succumbed to her wounds,” whispered Molly. “That red curse fought the healing.”

Tears rolled down Malachi’s cheeks as he nodded. The sword acolyte had suspected that. “Is everyone ready to go? Do we need to gather the bodies? … I will take Julia’s.”

“We’re ready… the bodies disappeared,” informed Molly. “There was a white light… and all that was left was their equipment.”

“That was collected?” wondered their leader. “Phelain’s group too?”

“Yes, we went in force for those up the tunnel,” said Molly. She had given up pressing the issue, but the concern was still strong on her face.

“Good, good,” answered Malachi. “Let’s get back to Hall. We’ll need to find out what happened to our people that died. I’ll have apologies to make.”