Merrin again grabbed the nullity and formed from it a stoneknife. A weapon of cracked brown with a hilt of metal black. He was to fight as an Ashman, and he would kill this as one. This was the reconciliation. He saw it first as a Saiden, and knew the life of his brother taken. Now, he would avenge that…Oh, he would continue to avenge that.
He spun in the air, grabbed a chain, another, and descended. The creature spotted him and shot forward. Speed, a flash of moments. Coming. Yet, Merrin whirled the chain, hearing the whistling of wind as the creature smashed into a mountain. A crater imprinting onto where it struck.
It was strong, but Ashmen killed the strong. He gritted and jumped and heard the howling of the wind, the chillness that would never come in the real world. Internally, he viewed this as a game, and he would play it well.
The monster bared dark fangs and took to the sky. A mistake. Merrin fashioned a chain, swung it. It coiled around the creature's bony legs. And with one pull, it came hurtling to the ground. Anything normal would have died to that. Not this. Not that it mattered.
The inevitability remained the same.
Merrin now drew knowledge from the capsule of isolated memory. There, he called upon the dance and faded into its boiling stew. Once more, his mind floated above the rage—the emotions. In this state, he observed himself, his actions, and noted it with authentic correctness. Control became manifest. And so he moved with this pattern of self-predetermined actions, and jumped. He cut through the air, piping down as though he moved through some invisible tunnel. Distractions. Distractions.
The fallen raised its fingers, swinging up. Merrin weaved the chain, grabbed it in the instant of still forming. It strained, but held. That sprang him, dodging the swift attack. A thing of the eye, perhaps, but Merrin saw the markings of a cut in the air. He rolled, landing feet-first.
It moved, instincts controlled, and Merrin rolled to the side and dashed into a cave. The dark tunnel, lit by base-placed lamps, brought the path to clearance. How powerful he felt in those moments. Control, precision. He raised the mountains, made the tunnels within them. The caves. The world. Creation at his whim. How intoxicating this promised to become.
He tore from the thought, dove to the side, into another cave, and rounded through what he envisioned was the lower base of the mountain. Now, the creature would wonder. Where is he? What is he doing? Secrecy, confusion, that was the means of the Ashmen. And none has ever bested it.
He arched into an underground pathway, propping up from beneath the ground. Beads fountained on his outburst. The creature offered its back, still unaware of the sudden event. Another Mistake. Corrupted Fallen were never known for their intelligence. He pierced the back, saw the trembling of the creature, and the spilling of black, oily blood.
It roared, and its furrowed wings opened. It desired the skies. Never! Merrin raised a mountain—a large form that blocked the skies. The mysterious illumination. And now they shadowed in darkness.
Both now existed in their known states. Ashmen, humans of the dark. Fallen, viles of the same. A loud defiance came from the creature, and it flapped its wings, a macroburst of wind that dispelled the beads. Likely, the realization of the beads' function had fitted into the creature. Not that it mattered.
Merrin moved in the darkness, tracking the noise of the fallen. He snuck up and pierced the creature's side. Blood spewed out, and more rage surged in its fervent actions. More more. Hurt more. A thought, and more mountains circled them. Puncturing from the earth, springing up, the dark rocks were everywhere. The creature was a caged thing.
It roared, scanning for its attacker. Then a different roar came, a more pitched sound doubled over a layer of deeper one. Merrin sank into a half-state.
"Why won't you listen?" The Audacious eidan said, pressing close to him. The sky above was dark, sparked with lightning and churning with the sure storms. Merrin observed this, observed her, and said,
"Same thing again."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
Merrin pushed her from the peak and jumped after her. In that, his awareness broke through the half state, and full cogitation returned. He groaned, looking ahead through the darkness of the mountains.
The creature had tried to plague. It won't work again. He ran, and again, the veneered voice came, and his awareness drowned. Again, the peak of the ash mountains. Again, he pushed the young eidan and leaped in.
IT WON'T WORK AGAIN!
Merrin formed the chain, tethering it to a large mountain. He swung, flew into the air, rolled, and landed with a slash on the creature's back. Blood spewed. More cuts. More blood.
That was not the end. He dropped the knife and cut it in moments before it touched the ground. He slashed the heel of the creature. It tumbled, and Merrin gribbed the left of the wizened wing. His blade came down and tore into it.
Blood came, and Merrin knew the creature now a grounded thing. Good. And in that moment, he knew the Ashman within had been satisfied. At least in the desired amounts. He heaved a breath and walked, fronting the fallen.
It still bore audacity in its dark eyes, snouted face, and large fangs. What a horrendous thing. Merrin slapped it. The sound like that of thunder. It screamed, and Merrin fell again into the half state. This was easier. He broke free and slapped once more.
Surely, he had killed it as an Ashman. Now, he would do so as El'shadie.
Merrin waved, and the mountains submerged into the earth, like stone in water. He watched this, breathed a sigh, and said, "Wake them."
The beast offered a growl. A thing that was not the wanted response. Merrin issued it a slap and repeated the order. It did not respond. And Merrin knew the beast incapable of it. He said to the ardents, "Hold it!" And they descended, pinning the beast with their strange, dark hands. Slender. Heads a mass of swirling darkness.
"What do I expect from something like you?" He looked ahead and saw the castle. Strange, perhaps, but an early memory bubbled into his mentation. Symbols took physical forms. The beads were one, unknown, yes, but one nonetheless. This world was one, or many, and so was this castle. Why else would a fallen need it?
"That is it, isn't it?" Merrin did not require an answer—the self-imparting knowledge told him this. "This is your selunn plague. Your castle of dreams, where you trap and what? Feed."
What a vile creature. Why would the Almighty allow for such things….
"I will take this from you." Merrin looked to the side. An instinctive gesture, and saw the large bird. Its wings were down, offering a strange impression of a hunched man. One with cloth armor, perhaps.
"Can I take this place?"
It stayed in its usual silence, then, "This world is a locality adjacent to the grayworld, as you call it."
"So they are together?" That was a foreboding thought. He and the fallen, close.
The bird's laughter was dry—cut with something soft. "Where mind-forms congeal into scapes, adjacency is inevitable. Think not in terms of separation. Think in strata. One world nested within another, as skin to flesh. This is one such layer. And look—already, you are assimilating it."
Merrin followed its gaze and saw the skies drowned in the familiar grayness. The skies of the gray world. My intrusion brought the gray world with me. So it takes it? The knowledge bloomed into several potentialities, but he dismissed those for now and shifted to one. Taking this world.
Somehow, he identified this as the sole means of freeing his people. Merrin said, "How can I take that castle?"
The bird frowned—a strangeness in its fowl face. "Don't you already have the means for that? Shouldn't a bond, a seal, be the right means?"
Merrin surged in a recalling thrill of memories. Servility. Servility. The word looped with a certain combustive effect. A mental one. He smiled and said, "And I can bring it here?"
"Yes," the bird said.
And so he did. Produced from an aspect of thought he did not understand. In there, he felt the ring and pulled it. To life. The ring formed from nothing above his palm, spinning. The fallen grew fervent. It knew. Somehow, it knew what was to happen.
"I shall take your place. " He said, "Now watch as you lose everything!"
He saw the ring brighten. White, force flowing through his fingers and swirling into the wheel. It began to spin. Faster. And Merrin felt the symbols within. The chains. And he pushed them. Into reality, they came. Iron links the size of mountains tore into the great castle, shuddering.
Merrin felt the addition of a presence within, an oscillation, but a sure one. Like the ardents, he was becoming bonded to it. An odd sensation. Naturally, the resistance came. A push of awesome force that battered against his cognitive self. Weak in comparison. He rebelled, slamming back with the tides that were his own power.