Malachi Armstrong

Breathe in, breathe out, he thought as man and beast held each other’s eyes. The absence of his arm weighed upon him as the metallic ape shifted its arms restlessly. An icy disposition clamped over such useless feelings. Like the clatter around him, the battlemage ignored it all. Shunted away. There was only him and his opponent in the world now.

For the first time since taking it on, Malachi set down the burden of leadership. Acted without any greater thought. The fight flashed through in his mind, dozens of sequences playing out in a blur. Becoming like flickering reels of film, all in a row. Slowly narrowing together to become an understandable jumble. A single imprint of strategy and instinct. He would follow it absolutely, his map of chaos. The choices were already predicted. All reactions prepared.

The battlemage moved first.

Waiting would be a waste.

Momentum was his to steal.

He surged forward, summoning the wind with a word. It was his iron determination that every spell be instantly castable. Exhausting, but infinitely precious

The red ape’s eyes widened in surprise as one step equaled three with the whistling wind. Malachi’s blade flashed sky blue as he slashed, passing the monster. The blade seared across a hasty forearm block and jerked passed into the side. Metal flesh bubbled, a gouge left in his wake.

A roar broke through red teeth and the ape spun with terrible force. Red streaks blurred the air as the battlemage dodged and deflected. Blue and red energy crackled in the air.

Fire flared down Malachi’s blade with a word. The explosion forced the two apart. Neither were scorched, the wind protected one, and metal resisted for the other. They glared at each other. Circling, options flickering. The battlemage shifted for a lunge, but blocked as the metal monkey threw itself forward with a howl.

With animal cruelty and cunning, the red ape lashed out at his right side. Pummeling at the void viciously. Anger sparked and spat as Malachi was forced to retreat to the left to protect himself. The disability afront caught his mind aflame. Rage building.

Malachi switched strategy and leaped through the arms of the ape. His shoulder bashed into the sternum in a raw burst of Mana. The battlemage thought briefly of Julia with a smile. In the next instant lightning was summoned and the tip pierced the metal flesh. The world became light, consuming all sound in a roar.

Malachi blinked the blindness away and found himself facing a desecrated shine. The monkey ape had been tossed into the structure. Before the weight and acceleration of the monster, the stone had given out. Cracking before collapsing on the monster. Red limbs poked out from the debris in a grotesque manner.

“I hope you stay buried,” muttered the battlemage without conviction. As expected, the pile began to twitch as the simian regained consciousness. He sighed and strolled forward. His blade began to flow with the color of the clear sky.

The debris exploded outwards as the king of metal apes thrust itself to its feet. Chucks flew fatally, forcing Malachi to break his stride to dodge. One caught his cloak and dragged him back a step. A fist struck the air where his head had been a moment ago. He flushed with the fear of near death. The next flying fist gave him no time to think. With gritted teeth, the battlemage forced himself back into the fight. Swinging ferociously to buy back space.

Furious red hands tried to bat aside the blue edge, trying hard to reach the protected flesh behind. Malachi snarled at the king of metal monkeys. It took a deep breath and screamed. The air warped and pressure buffeted him as pain rolled through his nerves. His Mana wavered. The crawling sensation of fear washed across his skin and left cold sweat in its wake. There was an argument that the red ape’s scream was anti-magic in nature, but the battlemage knew it to be simply fear-infused.

The only defense against that was to steel yourself. To stare the terror in the face and smile.

Malachi’s spells did not fail nor did he flinch. Feeling the warm embrace of the Sixty through the silver Mana pool filled him with amble confidence. Their faith reinforced his Will. To the battlemage, the scream was just a foul breeze. As the metal monkey recoiled, he struck. Silver joined blue along the edge of the stone sword. A small investment, it didn’t seem right to use too much for himself.

Light flared, burning bright.

His sword seared into the torso of the monster, Mana sparking off the red metal flesh. When the battlemage pulled away there was an ugly crater left in the center of the monster. Unnaturally red blood seeped free. Thick as sludge. It was somewhat mesmerizing to watch. Malachi was slow to react to the counterattack.

A red hand snatched the blade and wrenched his arm to the side. Holding firm while the metal flesh seared. Its other fist came in uncontested, slamming Malachi’s side. He flew and lost grip on his sword. The battlemage bounced off the ground several times before sliding almost to Vincent’s one man battleline. The red ape greeted his painful rising with a grin and tossed the stone sword dismissively to the side.

Rage.

His blood lit on fire, sky blue Mana flash into an aura around him. There was a boom as he threw himself forward through the air. Malachi had called wind and thunder. It howled and crackled all around him. The battlemage’s fist was readied with lightning. He blurred through the metal monkey’s defenses and landed a single blow. A storm in one punch.

In reflection, the red ape flew backward to slam into the great tree’s trunk. Above Warner cursed, but Malachi barely noticed. His attention was entirely on the battle, eyes only for the monster king. The battlemage’s hand stretched out expectantly and the wind brought the sword smoothly into his waiting grip. They walked towards each other, ready for another round.

Fire began to gather at the tip of the sword as Malachi chanted the full spell. With the completed spell, he thrust at the metal monkey. The monster crossed its arms to defend, but the sword tip dropped suddenly. A bolt of condensed flame struck the ape’s legs cleanly. There wasn’t much concussion force. Instead, the fire burned like napalm. Hot and furious without leaving the limb struck. It howled as the metal flesh melted and deformed under the heat. The magic resistance was unable to deny the physics.

The battlemage sensed the turning of the fight, without hesitation pushed the attack. He drove forward with blade and spell. It was his turn to abuse the obvious weak side. Malachi shifted about to force the monster king to awkwardly whirl after him. It began to recklessly throw itself forward to embrace him. The crushing force of the metal arms was easy to imagine.

Over and over they clashed. Flashing blade and threatening red fist. Finally, Malachi batted aside the arms to thrust perfectly into the throat of the metal monkey. There was a moment of recognition between them before the battlemage unleashed a full charge of Lighting Blade. When sight returned, the monster king collapsed smoking. It began to dust immediately.

Malachi gave out a breath of relief and smiled.

“Nice fight,” grinned Warner as he dropped from the treetop. A shiny red fruit was nestled under one arm. “Feeling better, eh? There is somethin’ about a good fight.”

“Actually, yes, I do feel better. It seems silly to me, but it felt necessary to prove that I had the strength to stand with all of you. Perhaps standing behind the front got to me. Too many times seeing other people risking themselves.”

Warner hesitated a moment, a frown crossing his face before nodding thoughtfully. “I’d tell you no one looks down on ya for that, but hearing that wouldn’t silence the doubt would it? You got the connection thingy, right? Doesn’t that tell you everything you need to hear?”

“You’d think, right?” laughed Malachi. It was frail and strained even to his ears. Part of him screamed at showing weakness in front of Warner, but that just felt like fear talking. Just an idiot panic. The deeper voice said nothing, so he continued. Choosing in trust. “I never wanted to be a leader. Never. Not to say the role is unfamiliar to me. Just never liked it, because I was afraid. The ghost of my father you could say. What he did with power… lives were ruined… and I worried for a long time about doing the same. That a monster ran through my veins.”

The pugilist sighed, he looked up sardonically. “Yeah, I get the whole old fears haunting ya thing. Shaping ya, molding your life. Looking back and suddenly it's all clear how chained you were.”

“Exactly! I lived in the shadow of that asshole for so long. Then I come here and the role is thrust upon me. People are asking me to lead, trusting me… how could I say no? Duty, it's not something in me to deny. There were hopes someone else would prove better, but no one did. So I’m living what was once my nightmare, and all doubts aside, it feels good. Right and true, that scares me, Warner. Beyond anything I can make even Julia understand. So, I use my doubts and worries to make tests for myself. It is almost like I'm trying to fail myself even as I try with all my heart to live up to the duty of … being the leader.”

“I, I am sorry Warner. I didn’t mean to drop all of this on you. Must seem weird to hear as my once rival. The idea of deserving echoes within me every day. Do I deserve to be the leader, am I what the Sixty deserves…”

“For the record, yeah, the deserving all slanted your way a long time ago, buddy,” grimaced Warner. The big man seemed in pain, as if straining to release something from deep within. “It wasn’t just people pushing and propping ya. It was mostly you making all the right choices, acting the leader before anyone else. Yeah, yeah I see it in your eye and dancing on your lips, shush. Now I get to talk a bit. While I was busy gathering support and information, y’know to assure my dominance, you gave. Were already giving something of value to the others. You comforted everyone and brought them together just being a pillar of calm. You won day one, Malachi. Day fucking one.”

“On top of that, once you had knowledge worth having, you shared it. Every last bit of it. You’re not a selfish man. You’ve proved yourself a good man and a true leader, in my eyes and others. So maybe cut yourself some slack, not all of it though. It’ll keep you sharp.”

“Huh, ok, that’s fair,” reflected Malachi. “Means a lot coming from you too.”

“Yeah, right, well just don’t disappoint, alright,” growled Warner. “We should get back.”

“Ugh, Julia’s not going to be happy about my state,” grumbled the leader of the Sixty. His armor was damaged and disheveled. Enough it wouldn’t be repaired in time. “Hey, Vincent ready to get out of here?”

Both looked at the humming swordsman, the man had found a perfect rhythm. Shifting back and forth across the stairs to keep the metal monkeys back from the top of the temple. Perhaps an inch at a time was given up as they watched. After one last flashy assault to push the horde back, Vincent leaped free. “Yes, let’s go. That was starting to get dull.”

Warner laughed and Malachi rolled his eyes. The battlemage grabbed the red ape’s core before leading the three of them into the sky. Setting a brisk pace through the air.

It was surreal to walk on nothing and have everything below them. The boots were proving themselves several times over. Ideas and strategies spawned by the dozen in his mind. The leader of the Sixty was now extra eager to clear floor five. Allowing Valerie Moore access to the craft stalls would prove extraordinary.

Their stroll came to end above the encamped Sixty. The barrier dome acted as a target as the three of them lowered the power output on the boots, from levitation to feather fall. A slow drop that vaguely felt like an elevator getting them back to the ground. Presenting the red metal fruit, they were greeted with cheers. In good spirits, everyone began to snake towards the Gate cave.

Julia appeared at his side with knowing concern. “So, why are you more roughed up than the other two?”

“We had to fight the red one,” replied Malachi, calmly and casually.

Her eyebrow raised, “And Warner and Vincent were during this… ?”

“Other tasks.”

“Yeah, not buying that.”

Malachi smiled and shook his head. “It is simply the truth. Vincent fought a horde to his pleasure and Warner was nice enough to pick us a good one. As for me…”

“You fought the ape made of orichalcum, alone,” frowned Julia. “I’m sure the fruit couldn’t wait.”

“Orichalcum, huh?” said the battlemage thoughtfully. “That is fitting. Legendary red metal, yeah the monkey definitely had the right vibe for it.”

“Don’t change the subject,” asserted the shieldmaiden seriously.

The way she gripped her sword while saying that should have been intimidating, and it was, but mostly Malachi found the image enchanting. Still, he knew she was being serious, so the battlemage gave a serious answer. Even if it wasn’t the one Julia wanted to hear.

“I fought it alone, because I wanted to test myself,” admitted Malachi. “I’m sure the guys would’ve jumped in if things went awry. Didn’t though.”

She opened her mouth, but Warner interrupted with a lopsided grin. “I wouldn’t stress about it, Julia. Just a guy thing we do sometimes. The fight did him good.”

The shieldmaiden rolled her eyes and glared at the both of them. “Next time you need to be a dumbass and prove something, I’d prefer to be involved.”

“Promise,” smiled Malachi. Warner laughed.

In the cave, they brought the red fruit to the soil patch. Pure light shined perfectly as before.

“Should we break it open and plant the seeds themselves?” asked Warner. His eyes considered the metal fruit while knocking on it.

“I was thinking we’d just put the whole thing in the ground,” shrugged Malachi. “Planting metaphors aside, this was basically just a fetch quest.”

“Alright,” shrugged Warner. “Uh, we brought a shovel, right?”

“No, but I got ya,” called out Russel. The earth mage called forth his brown Mana and with a simple parting gesture created a hole deep enough to contain the fruit. Once the red metal was planted, the earth shifted into a loose mound over it.

Nothing happened until Warner stepped outside the soil patch. The light brightened into a shaft of pure whiteness and turned the soil pure black in contrast. Time accelerated within, soil shifted and a sprout poked through. Blindingly green and hungry to grow. Before their eyes, the tiny thing grew into a little tree that reached for the light above. Branches with leaves spread outwards, flowers bloomed, and fruits began to swell. The light flashed and returned to normal. There was now a three meter tall tree in the cave.

Attention struggled between the new tree and the Gate. In the end, the winner was obvious.

The Sixty hurried over to the golden doors to see the effect of their accomplishment. Before their eyes, the projected words changed as the doorway rolled open.

Monkey first tried to teach everything.

Gathering many souls to learn.

Choosing the best to eat a fruit.

Knowledge made everyone powerful,

From lowest to the highest.

The gods were not amused.

Jealous of their place and angry,

Great power laid the land low.

Water and Fire to scour a hole.

All was lost, but the tree was safe.

Hidden beyond immortal sight.

Monkey decided to work slower.

Making tea from juice and seed,

He traveled the land to bring revelation.

One drink to give an epiphany,

Two if the Mortal shared to all,

And a final time to leave a record.

Still Monkey searches and spreads,

Devoutly until everything is known.

It felt more like an epilogue than a continuation to Malachi. As if someone was summing up a bigger story to finish the context of the Monkey’s pursuit to know everything. The encouragement that the gods were a threat was almost stronger than the moral to share knowledge. He wondered if there were any way to learn more Monkey myths. Like Coyote, this figure had intrigued the battlemage.

Perhaps, now that we know of this myth there will be related books in the Screens? wondered Malachi. There was a logic to the idea. He hoped it was so. More and more knowing the culture of The Pit seemed direly important.

Through the Gate was another hallway with an elevator and the gate to the new floor. Xavier Ceaitle, The Grand Wizard of Oir’Talafaigh made his usual appearance as well.

“Congratulations, the third floor is complete!” cheered the robed figure. “Your progress continues and it no longer seems so slim, does it? Reaching the top is only a matter of time.”

“The third floor was once originally designed as a facility for producing organically created metals. Specifically, ones that are already magically imbued. This can be done manually, but there is a special quality that you can only find in naturally made sources. Between the trees, apes, and the demon cranes this was a perfect environment for the process. Like most valuable monsters, their dangerous natures makes them a comfortable addition to The Pit’s purpose.”

“It was also a natural connection to remind our people of the past. The stories and tales are the basis of everything. Monkey is an ancient figure of the Akandite storytellers. No one has a longer memory than them and they made sure no one forgot their stories. Or anyone's for that matter. Even when the Demon God swept the world in destruction, the Akandite made sure the stories of Humanity were never forgotten. Returning them every time as the ashes cooled and a new Age’s Spring began.”

“Monkey teaches many lessons in his saga and adventures. The one perhaps closest to the heart of The Pit is that the gods are no allies. Humanity has never known their love, at least not unconditionally. Only fools would give praise to those tyrannical creatures.”

“The other lesson is that knowledge is dangerous. It was our hubris that the World would praise us for securing the end of Calamity. Love us for saving them, but it was fear that followed. Hate bloomed quickly after, and no doubt the gods encouraged the trains of thought that led to our doom. Knowledge a little at a time is best. Just a little and keep an eye out for rain.”

Xavier flickered away to the usual hush that quiet chatter rose from. His words and message were discussed as they surged forward to look through the gate. The golden circle rolled out of the way to their approach. Beyond were rolling hills of golden long grass. Shifting in the wind. In the distance, a herd of something passed over a hilltop.