Absolute pain.
This was a pain that surpassed every other type of pain he had ever felt before. Davi Hawker felt his flesh ignite, his blood boil, his veins rupture, and his organs begin to be pressed into by an unseen force. The backlash from an Old Bird's Flapping Wings hit him head-on, mixing with the volatility brought on when Way of Self Iron grabbed the power, and it caused the tug-of-war to snap finally.
The explosive force that had been generated wasn't just stuck in his body. As the energy compressed, swirled, and mixed, it created an unstable effect, raising his temperature, and for a moment, Davi felt himself set ablaze, intense golden fire pouring from his flesh. All his ribs shattered, and the front part of his chest and armor exploded open, sending waves of blood and steam that came pouring out, along with all that power, which escaped through the opening in his body and detonated.
He had, in essence, turned himself into a human bomb, and the blast slammed into the woman who was stabbing him. It forced the knife out, and the energy washed over her, causing her to scream in terror and pain as her own body was severely burned and she was sent flying back. He was also blasted off his feet and sent flying through the dungeon, where he slammed into a nearby wall and slumped down.
As Davi hit the wall and slid down, he felt his heart burning, and then, to his horror, he felt the beating slow down and start to stop.
"Vil Shadow Vault."
Typically, for most mages, using an Enchantment to create or twist a spell would take time. How did it work when someone wanted to change a spell? Well, that was simple. They'd imagine the spell and then imagine how it worked as well as the 'code' that made up the spell. Each spell had several lines of code, and the code was basically a bunch of ones and zeros going across the lines.
It was programming lines in binary code. Understanding what these lines said helped but wasn't needed. Instead, the part that was required was the mage's imagination and ability to picture that these lines of numbers existed at all. The code was what determined how a spell worked, and when a mage wanted to alter or add to this code, they'd have to picture the spell physically changing.
In the case with Olivia Lot, she had taken the spell "Blood Hawk" and had to picture the process of a bird becoming a snake. While she did this, she had to imagine the line of code and how it would change as well. When it was done, her spell would take the form of a snake with wings, despite the fact that it was a Hawk creation spell. This effect would not be permanent since her enchantment was low, and she'd have to reimagine it and rebuild it each time she created the spell.
This was the basics of Enchantment and something all mages could do. Mages with an Enchantment school grade of at least E1 were considered Enchanters and, if needed, could change how their spells worked in greater ways. Typically, it was required to create a vow if a mage wanted to not just change a spell but add new orders or elements into it, but enchanters were allowed free lines of code that they could add things to without forming a vow. This was also why they were allowed to make vows with smaller costs.
Shadow Armor had a vow on it that made it impossible to mess with the lines of code that had been built into it. Vault had no such vow and was a basic spell, and so when Davi used it and used the Vil version, he was able to supercharge the spell and add new lines to it on the fly.
He had never considered it before, but in a lot of ways, Davi truly was good at enchantments. What would normally take a few seconds to a minute barely took him a moment, as he went through the process of reimagining how his Vil spell worked, and in his mind, the code of ones and zeros rapidly shifted and altered.
The shadowy hands that burst from his shadows usually tried to grab him and his opponent and yank them into his vault. However, this time, only one came out and phased into his body, wrapped its fingers around his still heart, and began to force it to beat.
Letting out a loud gasp, Davi's body shook, sweat and blood dripping down his body. His entire body ached, and he was covered in bruises. There was a gaping hole through his chest, the flesh, bones, and armor twisting outwards due to the force that had blasted its way out of his body. His rib cage was utterly destroyed, and his body had been badly damaged to the point it was shutting down.
He had basically killed himself and now had to manually beat his heart. The moment he ran out of mana or turned the spell off, he'd likely die. He needed immediate healing. To say he looked like smashed beef would be a compliment now that his body had reached this point. It'd be easier to count the bones that weren't broken, and it was hard to tell if he had any veins left that were flowing blood.
"You bastard…" Davi's eyes widened. During the explosion, the curse that had been blinding him had also been blasted out, scorched away by the golden flames due to it being weaker. As such, he could now see, and he watched as the woman who had been caught in his self-destruction stood back up. She was hurt, but nowhere near the state he was. Her flesh had been charred, and half her body was still smoking, but her eyes were filled with a murderous rage. "You're dead!" She leapt at him and came down hard, stabbing her knife down.
"Row Shadow Vault."
Davi opened his vault, and he simply dropped down, falling through the floor and closing it before the woman reached him. The burning sensation around his body faded, and any lingering flames went out as the cold void of his vault snuffed them out.
Unfortunately, using the lesser form of his Vault spell canceled out the Vil spell, resulting in the hand that was beating his heart to fade.
He felt his throat give out first as he tried to speak but failed. Everything began to fade, and Davi felt himself start to slowly black out. He was dying. With what bit of consciousness he had left, he forced his vault to shift and change.
Working with Alice Ward had been a good idea because he had been able to store all the first aid supplies in his vault. He still had a few left over, and he rapidly brought one to him, a small glass vial of a red potion appearing before him.
Numbly, Davi reached out for it, his fingers trying to wrap around the glass, as he kept fading away. His body was numb, and he couldn't control his hand properly. He weakly managed to grab it but now couldn't uncork it.
More of his vision faded away, not helped by the darkness. He brought the potion to his lips, but with the cork still inside, he couldn't drink it. The last thing he saw, as his vision finally left him, was the outline of a blue, fiery form, as a monster with the head of a hawk flew toward him.
The shadow birds finally caught him.
"Damn. Looks like I died."
"Looks like it. Yeah."
"..."
"..."
"...Is this not the afterlife?"
Davi felt water washing over his feet. No longer was he in his vault or the dungeon. Instead, he was seated on a beach, ankle-deep in the ocean, washing as the waves washed over him. Just like last time, a hand was poking at his face, and crouched down in the sand next to him was the elf woman he had seen before. Her vibrant purple eyes were fixed on him as she studied him in silence.
"Welcome back."
Davi gazed over at her and then looked back out at the sea. "I guess it's good I'm here. That likely means I'm still alive. At least for the time being."
"Well, luckily for you, even with a stopped heart, the brain survives for a small bit of time." The woman chuckled before standing up. "Currently, you're still dying, but before the lights shut off fully, I guess you imagined this place." She glanced in the opposite direction of the sea and saw a village in the distance. "Is this where you grew up?"
"Yeah." Davi also stood up and stretched. "Chrysanthemum village."
"What a long name!"
"It's a little long," Davi admitted.
The elf suddenly walked toward the village, and unsure of what to do, Davi followed. He watched her in silence as she looked around, seemingly amazed by what she saw.
"It's amazing to see a village like this." The woman commented. "It's so small. No towers either. The mana here is so weird. You lived here?"
"Yeah." Davi looked around his village with a complicated expression. He hadn't been here in a while. He saw many huts all scattered around, as well as plenty of the villagers. A blacksmith shop was near the back where Orion worked, and near a large lake on the outskirts of the village, dozens of kids all played together, including Noble, Sieg, and Arch. "This was my home."
The elf woman stopped near the kids and looked at each of them. "Where are you?" Amongst the kids, a young Davi was nowhere to be found.
Davi gave a lazy shrug. "I was always a little wretch. I'm sure I am somewhere." He, of course, knew where he was. He looked to the blacksmith shop, where the younger version of him was seated outside. As if on cue, Orion exited the building.
Davi watched his younger self chat with his father. He reached up and tugged on the white robes he was wearing. Here, wherever here was, he wasn't in his armor, and so he was in the clothes Clause had made for him. Now that he looked at his dad, he realized how similar to Orion's they were. He was glad he had Clause make these new robes. It was nice to match his father.
"Ah, so that's the younger you." The elf woman suddenly stood next to him, and she rubbed her chin. "I knew it." Her smirk grew when she saw the purple eyes the other him had. "So, someone is clinging to you, aren't they?"
"What do you mean?" Davi questioned.
"Giants aren't dragons." The woman suddenly said. "They share the size and power of a dragon, but they lack their wings or scales. Elves aren't giants. They lack their size and power despite looking closely like them. Finally, humans aren't elves." She glanced back at Davi. "There is a skill all elves have. An ability that allowed them to communicate amongst each other on a level that went beyond words. This skill was called Horde by some and Hoarder by others, as it allowed the Elves to all exist as a horde or hoard the space in which communication could be done. In essence, Horde lets Elves speak to the souls of other Elves and allows them to exist in the space of worlds that Cores reside in."
Davi felt shocked as he heard that. He had a skill called Master Hoarder and had been confused at what it did, but from the sounds of it, that was what allowed him and this woman to currently have this conversation.
"Humans lack this trait." The woman explained. "Only the Elves had it. Despite that, some elves still sought relations with humans, resulting in half-breeds. Normally, a half-breed won't have the powers of the elves, but sometimes you get rare cases where they do. You have the body of a human, but there's no doubt in me that you have the soul of an elf. They say eyes are the window to the soul." She giggled and stared into his blue eyes. "It makes me wonder what happened to your soul for such a change to happen."
Davi stepped away and almost reached up to his face but stopped. He knew what this was. He knew why his eyes were a deep blue instead of the purple they once were. That was his curse. The one thing stopping him from communicating with Olivia and telling her the truth. The curse he would break. The thing that was wrapped around him was his mother.
No…
Not her in an actual sense, but rather her will. What was left of her. The lines of code that controlled his robotic form and commanded he follow her orders. Her last commands.
"Is there a reason you're saying all of this or talking to me right now?" Davi asked.
The woman giggled again and pointed at herself. "Do you know who I am?"
"You're the sword," Davi said, nodding. "Storymaker?"
The woman laughed. "Storymaker? Yes. I guess that name will do. Just call me Story for short, okay!" She gave him the 'okay' symbol. "You've no doubt guessed, but we're able to talk because of the Hoarder trait that you have. My soul and your soul are talking." She walked closer to him and poked him in the ribs. "So, I have to ask. Why haven't you bonded with me? Think you're too good for me?"
"Bonded with you?" Davi gave her an odd look. "You mean like bond with your weapon form?"
"Yeah!" The woman rolled her eyes. "As a sword, I don't have eyes or ears. I'm not really aware of what's going on or what's happening. I know you found me because my soul keeps reaching out to yours, but that's it. Sometimes in your vault, I can think or see stuff, but in the real world, I have no idea what's happening at all! That wouldn't be the case if we bonded!"
"I've tried. It doesn't work."
"What! Why not!" The elf demanded, and she poked him harder in the ribs.
"I have shadow magic."
"So?"
"You're a Light-type weapon."
"So?"
Davi began to feel a bit annoyed. "Shadow magic means I'm a dark type. Light-type weapons need a light-type mage to use."
The woman rolled her eyes. "Just change your type."
"Oh yeah, why didn't I think of that?" Davi said sarcastically. "It doesn't work that way."
"Really?"
"Can you change your type?" Davi demanded.
"No." The woman hummed. "I was born with Fate magic, which falls into the Light type of magic, as you said. I thought maybe you being a human meant you could change your type of magic as Haru could."
"Humans can't do what Haru can do," Davi said flatly.
"I guess that's true. Sometimes I wonder if that monster was even human." The elf sighed and shook her head. "Damn. I guess you'll have to find some way to absorb Light-type magic if you want to bond. And here I was, so sure you had Light magic. Your mana is so warm and bright. Like bathing in the sun. It reminded me of the first time I gazed upon Haru. Oh well. Guess I'll go back to the void then. Now that I think about it, you're dying, so it's not like it matters anyway."
"Wait." Davi's words caused her to stop, and she turned to look back at him, raising her eyebrow. "What are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you actually an elf?"
The woman laughed at his remark. "What else would I be?"
"If you're indeed Storymaker…"
"Do you seriously not know?" Story let out a sigh and then looked up toward the sky, smiling softly. "Humans were pretty cruel, you know. They decided to slaughter our entire race. Still, I can't muster up much hatred over that, for their cruelty is nothing compared to our own king's. King Sylas, the mad fool, decided to "preserve" the elven race, and so he took us, and he chopped most of us up into itty-bitty pieces, forcing out our Core and using those Cores to create powerful weapons. The worst part is that he didn't even use them in the war with humanity. Instead, he locked them all up."
Davi's mind raced as he listened to her. Falco had mentioned that the Elven weapons were thought to be made by Elves as well, but it seems that was true, not just a theory. Was it all weapons or only some? He hadn't ever really been close to a weapon like that before, so he'd have to test it out more. If his trait really was what allowed him to chat with Story, then perhaps he could do it to other weapons as well if they had the soul of an Elf in them.
Being able to talk to an Elf was also a great boon. He could ask her so many questions about the dungeons, how they worked, and where they came from. Such things were lost when the elves all died out.
Just as he thought about what question he wanted to ask first, Story began to speak again. "Alright. That's enough. Let's end this here."
"Wait, I have a question—"
"Not in the mood." Story cut him off and shook her head. "I'm bummed about you not having Light magic. I thought for sure the spell I used would have worked, but I guess that was a waste of a final act. How worthless. The mage I waited for is either dead or doesn't exist."
"The mage you waited for?"
"It doesn't matter." Story lifted her hand and then snapped. "Let's stop for now."
Suddenly, everything went black.
Davi felt an intense wave of cold, and he could also feel something digging into his back. It ached and stabbed into him. His eyes slowly opened, but that didn't fix anything. He was still surrounded by a dark void. It took him a few moments to realize that it was because he was still in his vault.
Groaning, he sat up and looked down at himself in confusion. His armor had fixed itself, and while his body was sore, he didn't actually hurt all that badly. He wasn't bleeding out anyway, and many of his broken bones had seemingly mended. Then he noticed the empty bottle on the ground next to him.
He had drunk the health potion, and that seemed to have stabilized him. A health potion couldn't recover the mana he lost, but it did fix the hole in his chest as well as several of his damaged organs. All the severe injuries had been the focus of the potion, and so it saved his life, but due to how badly he had been beaten, the potion couldn't fix everything about him. Several ribs were cracked, and some of his fingers were broken and bent at awkward angles. There wasn't a part of his flesh that wasn't covered in bruises, either. Not to mention, while the potion did patch him up physically, it wasn't able to restore any mana, and so he was running low. What little bit he did have left was being used to keep his Shadow Armor spell up.
Davi weakly got to his feet and winced as he looked down. He had reached the bottom of his vault, and what he found shocked him.
He had been lying down on swords.
Over thousands of different claymore-like blades were scattered on the ground, stacked on top of each other, some stabbed into the ground, others flat on their side, some crisscrossing, and so on. Each blade was a ghostly blue color, just like his fire, and as he looked down at them, he realized what he was staring at.
It was a nest.
A giant bird's nest created out of fiery blades. The nest stretched on for miles and was the only light he could see. The more he looked around, the more he also saw those bird-like monsters. They had human bodies and legs, but where their feet should have been were talons, and wings instead of arms stretched out. They had the heads of hawks, and there must have been at least a hundred of them, all scattered through the nest.
Some were sitting, some were standing, some were staring at him, and others looked off into the distance. None seemed to react, nor did any make a move toward him. Like the nest, they were made up of a fiery blue color and looked like constructs. He was reminded a bit of Ken Yuan's familiar, Yujin. Perhaps they were like Yujin?
Davi shook his head and then noticed something else. Also within this nest was his Core. At the very center, the nest sloped down, and there a blade resided. Unlike the other swords, this one was a real weapon, a jagged claymore that stabbed through the different blades and was buried all the way up to the handle. Frost seeped off of it and froze the surrounding area. It was the sword he had seen the first time Tori had knocked him out. Directly above it was his Core.
The Core was a ball of blue fire, covered in more ghostly blades and chains that bound it in place. Shadowy hands stabbed out of the sword and reached up, wrapping around his Core, further trapping it.
Whispers drifted from the blade and danced around the Core. They were impossible to make out, as there were many voices, and they all said different things, making it a jumbled mess. Davi almost took a step toward the sword before he managed to snap out of it. Strands of DNA-looking helices swirled around his Core, glowing an assortment of colors, and Davi had to tear his gaze away from them.
He flew into the air, attempting to get away, putting distance between him and that cursed nest. When he got high enough, he looked back down and saw a truly shocking sight. The nest was actually an eye.
Hundreds of miles away, the nest resided in the middle of a wave of golden lines that stretched out below. They looked like paths or roads, forged out of pure light, and Davi was reminded of stars in the sky and how they could form patterns and shapes if a person were to line them all up. This was just like that, but actually connected, and it took on the image of a massive hawk.
It wasn't an entity like the other beasts. This one was just an outline, and it resembled a bird in mid-flight, with its wings spread. Where the bird's head was, the nest resided, making it appear as if the bird had a glowing blue eye amongst its golden form.
All of it was his Core.
The ball of blue fire was his Shadow Core, his sense of self, being corrupted by the sword in the ground that was his mother's curse. The strands of DNA were the Circuit Cores he had been forced to take from the King. The nest of swords was actually Qi Lines, all shaped and working together to form a shape that supports his sense of self. Finally, the golden hawk was that which he wanted to be and was his Mask Core.
This is what his Core truly looked like in all its glory. The mask was the largest, yet it could only be seen from above. The nest, from a distance, looked like it could support life. Still, the jagged blades would make it impossible to live comfortably, and the DNA circuits floated uselessly around a corrupted ball of fire that was barely holding together.
It was a mess.
Just as Davi was processing that, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, and suddenly a pair of talons dug into his arms. From above him, one of the hawk monsters dropped down and tore into him. It let out a loud screech, and he tried to jerk himself away from it, but it refused to let go and pulled him back down to the nest of swords.
It flung him forward and let go, and Davi felt many of the blades cut through his armor and into his flesh as he crash-landed.
All the birds were standing up now, all screeching and howling, and the hands around his Core, the ones that jutted out of the handle of the sword in the ground, suddenly reached out to him. He could understand the whispers now, and Davi felt his body lock up as his mother's hands took control of him once more and he was forced to stand and walk to the sword.
He heard his mother's voice directly in his ear, drowning out the other voices.
'You need to become stronger.'
'You want to become stronger.'
'You need more power.'
'You want more power.'
'You should draw the sword.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
Davi tried to resist, but he couldn't. His arms were forced to move on their own, and his hand reached down toward the sword in the ground.
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
His fingers wrapped around the handle of the sword.
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
He began to pull.
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
The further the sword lifted, the bluer his eyes became, and the fiery blue aura that was his Core rose higher. There had been specs of purple along it, but now they were being smothered and drowned, more hands forcing their way out, and new chains binding around it. Ghostly swords started to appear in the air and jammed their way into the Core, and the golden lines that made up the giant hawk began to grow dim.
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
When he got to the cross guard, Davi felt blood starting to flow down his chin, pouring from his nose, and his eyes burned with an intense flame. Then he saw something. A memory. One that didn't belong to him.
He saw a field, and a lone figure in Ebony Armor clutched the same sword he was pulling out of the ground. The figure stood before a being made of pure light. Shadows flowed from the being's armor as he withstood the glowing aura and raised his sword and then suddenly sliced into his own body, splitting his stomach open. Black blood began to pour out, and then Davi heard him utter a spell.
"Full Shadow-Blood Hunt."
Shadow and blood flowed and mixed, forming a black ichor that began to corrupt the ground. It flowed like oil and bubbled like acid. The blue flames began to glow hotter, and the armored figure took a single, thundering step forward as more of that cursed blood flowed.
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
'Take his gift.'
Davi came to right as the sword reached a quarter of the way through being pulled out of the ground. The blade was rusted and cracked. It had seen better days. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. His body wasn't responding, and the whisper of his mother only grew louder. He knew that if this sword were fully drawn, something bad would happen.
He'd cease to be.
The sword began to get brought up, inch by inch, and right as it was about to reach the halfway mark and the glowing got brighter, Davi suddenly gasped as a sharp pain hit him.
Storymaker jammed into his side, the sword impaling itself into him. The pain jolted him, and he felt as if he had just woken up from a dream. He let go of the claymore, and the whispering turned into loud yelling, and the birds started to screech.
Davi flew into the air and opened his Vault door, escaping as the hawk monsters blasted toward him. He tumbled back into the dungeon and landed on his feet, Storymaker still impaled in his side. He breathed heavily, sweat dripping down his body.
"Die!" Before he could even catch his breath, the woman with the knife appeared in front of him.
Unfortunately for her, after what he had just seen, he wasn't afraid of anything she could do to him.
The knife rammed into Davi's shoulder, and he became blinded, but he simply reached out, grabbed a fistful of the woman's hair, and rammed her face down while he raised his knee up. Her shattered face got worse, and then he stepped forward, still dragging her by the hair, and swung.
Her skull cracked against the wall over and over again, and he used her as a hammer and shattered his way through, breaking out onto the other side. When he was finally done, he dropped her and collapsed back, breathing heavily.
His vision returned, the dagger's curse leaving his body. Eventually, he pulled out Storymaker and grunted. He glanced down at the blade and then remembered the cursed sword that awaited him in his vault. He couldn't even tell anyone since his mother's curse would prevent that.
Still, he wasn't totally alone, since Storymaker had seemingly come to his rescue. "I seriously have to figure out how to bond with you." He finally said.
Then he collapsed onto his back and finally caught his breath.