"Stop this!" Amos shouted.
"Or what?" Enoch smiled, "It's just you left, Amos. The Vessel isn't in fighting form, and the vagrant here is dead, whether you like it or not."
"He can't see me..." Aquila whispered.
Can you save Mondir?
"I'll try... Keep him talking."
"...and you," Enoch continued, "a Drai! Pitiful! A thrall to the stars, and a lowly one at that. A rank one Drai - Cancer is ineffectual enough - with no mana in reserve. So tell me, Amos. What are you going to do?"
"Didn't you say this place existed between the boundaries of existence?" Amos watched Aquila sneaking in his peripherals, angling to get behind Enoch.
"For lack of a better explanation, yes."
"That's one thing I've always wondered about the Drai. Our mana naturally regenerates over time, filtering in from the world around us." Amos checked Aquila's progress. "Now you tell me, Enoch. Where does all that mana come from?"
Amos plunged his hands into the ankle length water and felt the obsidian. Its smooth surface was alien to his touch, but it felt almost alive with energy. Amos knew it wouldn't respond to him like it did to Enoch, but he felt intrinsically that he could draw power from it, at the very least.
He emptied his lungs and a blue light flowed from the obsidian, up through his arms and into his mouth, his nose, feeling its way into his skull through his eye sockets and plugging his ears.
Amos rose, glowing blue and staring resolutely at his quarry.
Enoch's eye twitched. "Fine. A rank one Drai with mana is still no good in a fight."
"You underestimate me, Enoch. I may not fully comprehend your powers, and I am most certainly new to my own, but you hurt my friends. You sent Darian after my family. I may not be your equal here, but you will feel my rage."
Amos started forward.
Enoch slit his wrist with a hidden blade. He held it out in front of him as Amos approached, blood flowing profusely into the now churning waters beneath them. As the blood fell it began to suspend itself in midair and coagulate into spheres.
Blood bullets!? What else can this guy do?
Amos thrust his hand before him, summoning the golden tendril and forming it into a shield. The blood bullets started flying, one by one, then all at once, pinging off of Amos' shimmering shield. Some pierced the ward and sliced Amos' skin, making thin openings for his own blood to join Enoch's.
"Shields are all you know, Amos!" Enoch taunted. "You are nothing to me. You will die last. I will make you watch the vagrant die and take the Vessel away while you hide behind your shields. Then, and only then, will I give you the mercy of death. You should never have come here, Cancer Drai."
Amos was close enough now. Aquila was behind Enoch and leaped, wrapping his arm around the Eidolon's neck in a chokehold and hooking his feet around his hips. Enoch's eyes jumped from his skull and he whipped around, grabbing at the new assailant.
Enoch's pallid face was turning purple. He gave up on pulling Aquila off himself, and summoned three skeletons behind himself who began pulling at Amos' soul.
Amos took the opportunity to place one hand on each side of Enoch's chest and look directly into his deep red eyes. "Shields aren't all I know. Feel the rage of an Aries slighted."
Then he channeled all but a single drop of his remaining mana into two powerful bursts of flame.
Twin explosions sent Enoch and Aquila tumbling away, crashing through the skeleton constructs and scattering their bones.
The shock of the attack caused Enoch to drop his control over the obsidian and it fell away, revealing the portal.
"Ink! Go!" Amos shouted.
Ink shook his head.
Stupid. He's going to wait for us.
Get away from him Aquila, I'll take care of Mondir.
Amos turned to his Wildman friend, who was still trapped in slow motion. The rot had almost reached his upper bicep. The lower half of his arm was twisted and blackened, muscles had atrophied in an instant so that the skin was hanging off disintegrating bones. If Enoch's power reached his heart, he was dead.
Amos made a quick decision, and grabbed the Dreadclaw blade from its slow motion fall. He pushed it through Mondir's last arm. It moved through like it was butter and the blood welled up agonisingly slowly, ready to burst when he was released from the slowing field. Amos didn't give it a chance. He used the last of his mana to cauterise the wound.
His own hands were badly burned, the skin blistering and peeling away from only two uses of his powers. The adrenaline dulled the pain as he pulled Enoch away, and dragged him towards the portal. As soon as he left the slowing field, the pain and trauma occurred to him in an instant and he fell unconscious; dead weight in Amos' arms.
Amos looked back to see Aquila sprinting full tilt towards them. Enoch was chasing gleefully, hands in his pockets, surfing a wave of bones. His coat flapped with his speed.
Amos was by Ink's side at the portal now. Aquila couldn't come with them, but Amos couldn't leave him behind. He dropped Mondir with Ink. "If this goes bad, just leave. He has a plan for you and it clearly won't be good."
Ink shook his head and gave a morbid smile. He tried to push himself up to help but Amos laid a hand on his shoulder.
"You're my best friend, Ink," he said softly. "Don't die like this."
Ink nodded and slumped back, then choked out "Don't... die..."
Amos flashed a thumbs up, then turned to help Aquila.
It was too late. Enoch was upon him.
Enoch had summoned a gigantic undead while Amos was looking away. It was a meaty corpse, easily three times the size of a regular person. They weren't fighting anymore. The corpse had Aquila pinned. He was looking up at Amos and the other two by the portal. "Go!" he shouted, "I can't be hurt!"
Enoch rounded the side of the massive undead, the bone wave subsiding into the water around them. He stepped off of it gracefully, and kept his back to Amos, speaking only to Aquila. "Oh, how wrong you are."
Enoch reached down and gripped Aquila's head, one hand on each side. Even from this distance, Amos could see the pressure Enoch was applying. His arms shook with the effort. Aquila began to scream. He may not have had a physical form, but Enoch's abilities must have allowed him to harm the souls of people.
The Tomb Trenmir Eidolon gave one last mighty squeeze, then Aquila was gone with a soft pop. The screaming stopped abruptly and the giant corpse construct fell with a massive splash.
Enoch turned to Amos, grinning. He held an orb of sky blue, gently swirling with kinetic energy. Amos knew what it was.
Enoch was holding Aquila.
Amos grabbed Mondir's hair and screamed at Ink to grab onto him, spittle flying. Ink was confused, and reached out slowly.
Enoch was walking towards them, now. "Who's next?" he said.
Step.
"Ink! Grab the fuck on!" Amos shouted, already reaching for the portal.
Step. Step.
Amos felt Ink's fingers curl around his ankle and he plunged his free hand into the inky exit portal. He felt the pull on his chest, and they were out, chased by the gleeful laughter of the Tomb Trenmir's Eidolon - the pinnacle of the Empire's power.
...
Amos, Ink, and Mondir spent the next several days on the road. The majority of their time was spent trudging through mud in silence. Mondir's shoulders would twitch every now and then. He had trouble sleeping, so he kept watch most of the time. The bags under his eyes were sufficient enough to be filled with an entire harvest of the Aquila family farm.
Ink regained his strength without discomfort. All he needed was a meal and a decent sleep.
Amos was the provider of the group. He felt empty, knowing Aquila was captured. He used Mondir's bow and some makeshift arrows to hunt for small game while Ink pointed out which plants were good to eat. Mondir nodded in satisfaction every time they brought back their prizes.
There was always a Mutabeast sized space by Mondir's side when they ate.
They were heading north, to Port Ryndem and the Avidia Institute. Mondir claimed the rivers were the fastest way, and the closest town where one could hire a boat downstream was Botre Village. When Mondir mentioned the name of the place, a memory triggered inside Amos' mind.
Kien and Leila around the dinner table on the farm. Sun streaming through the window. Yakob with his papers, exasperated. Light hearted teasing. A discussion about his studies, and the trip. The mention of a name - Arria - someone who lived in Botre Village. Someone close to Yakob.
Amos suggested they look for her upon arriving at Botre Village. Mondir was hesitant to trust, but any friend of Yakob's was a friend of Amos, and the Wildman eventually gave in.
...
The houses in Botre Village were too far apart. There was nowhere to hide. Mondir had Ink and Amos smother their faces with mud to render them unrecognisable due to the Trenmir presence. They were still wanted men, after all.
Flyers with their faces were pasted to the walls of squat homes, flapping in the muted breeze and tossed in sodden gutters.
Only once did they pass a Trenmir patrol. Luckily, the lackeys of the Empire paid them no heed. They were rushing past, batons banging on hips as they spoke in hushed tones. Something about a battle with a Scorpio Drai on the other side of town.
The sound of the river was ever present, and it was tempting to go there immediately and leave the Trenmir ridden village behind. But sleep under a roof made a great argument.
"Where even is this Arria? This town is getting on my nerves," Mondir said, shrugging his shoulders. Ink was supporting him on the cobbled streets as he was still getting used to the balance of his new body.
"Every town is going to get on your nerves," Ink said sharply. The days on the road had grated on his nerves. "She runs a bakery anyway. We can just follow our noses."
"That's your plan? Wander around with mud on our faces, hoping the Trenmir don't recognise us until we smell cake?"
"Mondir," Ink said gently, "it's our only option. We're all sleepy, so be nice."
"Sorry," Amos muttered.
Mondir just grunted.
They wandered the town for hours, the sun just barely touching the horizon when they got their first whiff of the bakery. Just ahead, at the end of this street, was a little store with a sign at the front. This was the right place.
Amos started forward eagerly, licking his lips, when a gruff voice called out from behind them.
"Halt!"
The three of them stopped dead in their tracks. Behind them was a Trenmir patrol unit - four civilian members with batons, all dressed in the signature black.
The greying man at the front addressed them. "This is the scene of a crime. You can't be here."
Amos paused. "We live at the end of the street. We're just trying to get home."
"Mighty filthy for a bunch of bakers," the Trenmir probed.
"We don't bake," Amos said, "Ma's the baker. I work at the tavern."
"The tavern? Gronn, you ever seen him before?"
"Nup," said Gronn, a thinner Trenmir at the back. He was picking his teeth and smelled like alcohol.
"Oh, I work in the back," Amos said, laughing nervously. "In the kitchen?"
The grey leader looked back at Gronn who shrugged and murmured something about shitty food. The man who stopped them waved them on, "Go on, but be quick," he touched his baton. "Curfew is early tonight. Drai about town."
"Thanks sir!" Ink said, and pushed the others on towards the bakery.
"How the fuck did that work?" Mondir said. "It didn't make any sense. Mud from the kitchens?"
Amos shrugged. "I am an expert at lying."
Ink snorted at that, but he glanced back at the lingering Trenmir.
They reached the bakery door and knocked. There were sounds of movement from within. Amos could feel warmth emanating from beneath the door. He was already starting to fall asleep.
The door cracked open an inch, letting candlelight into the street, illuminating Amos' face. A girl peered through the crack. "Hello?" she said.