“Skelebum”

  It was the name that Dawn had given Vale. The result of her beloved younger sister’s twisted genius. If you really dug into it, Vale supposed her mother was to blame. After all, Dawn had often heard their her reminders of their significance. The “treasured children of the Highlord of Death” she had said.

  The name was born of their heritage, mingled with… Well... a bum. The perfect, precise and elegant description for her beloved older sister.

  Thus, “skelebum” was born.

  In their innocent excitement, the siblings had styled themselves after necromancers of old - as they envisioned them, at least.

  Dawn was annoying, as younger siblings especially sisters tended to be. Copying Vale’s style, which, she herself had ingeniously adapted from their mother.

  Vale would never stoop so low as to copy it, no.

  Dawn on the other hand, had dared to blatantly appropriate Vale’s style - black dresses, dark red lipstick which suspiciously went missing from their mother’s drawers, finding itself awkwardly painted on her sister’s lips.

  She was annoying, as younger siblings, especially sisters, tended to be. Mimicking her, bugging her for attention, digging through her things, all without the courtesy of asking first.

  Travesties all.

  Seeing her older sister’s irritation at her newfound nickname had only emboldened her. That was how it stuck.

  Which was why, when the words emerged from the lips of the Highlord of Flame, Vale froze.

  For Berevan Brimstone’s smile was not directed at his son.

  "Hi skelebum."

  Berevan Brimstone’s words continued to ring in the air, the voice that gave life to it alien, but its form and substance, familiar. Bearing the slightest wobble in its delivery, coloured by a hint of uncertainty.

  There could be no doubt as to its true owner, for there could only be one.

  Caledon’s eyes widened as he saw a stranger’s smile on his father’s face. The Highlord wore his smile awkwardly. Vale’s eyes widened. She let out a whisper, barely decipherable.

  "Dawn?"

  The smile dropped from the Highlord’s expression. An expression of melancholy crossed the Highlord’s face, before he steeled himself. Highlord Berevan stumbled forward, a stranger in his own body.

  A look of rage cut through Caledon’s grief-stricken expression. The wrath that had momentarily adorned the flames of his Phobia burgeoned once more. Vale gasped as the heat of Caledon’s flames washed over her in a brief flash, rising an arm to impede its path.

  Emblematic of his frustration.

  Caledon’s acidic words cut through the air, for he had accepted that what he had witnessed was no miracle birthed from his father’s Fearshaping.

  "Get out of his body, Revenant. Now."

  Vale felt a sudden sensation of cold wrap around her arm and squeeze.

  "Care to explain what’s going on?"

  Shiver’s unflinching gaze bore into her, and Vale stammered.

  "It’s Dawn, Shiver. My sister. C-Caledon get back!"

  Vale’s warning reached Caledon’s ears too late. Triol’s warning had finally registered. Hearing those words from the Highlord’s mouth had sealed her suspicion. It could only mean one thing.

  "Urgh, he’s so bulky. What is this?"

  Berevan clumsily summoned his Phobia, the burnished greatsword of red and gold, a twisting vortex of flame housed in the middle of the blade.

  It immediately slipped from the Highlord’s hands, clattering to the floor. As he crouched to pick it up, his eyes met Caledon’s.

  "Oh. Hello."

  Vale and Shiver watched Caledon in agony, his Phobia raised high above his head. The boy torn at the prospect of having to defile his father’s body. As doubt sunk its teeth into him, so did the flames of his Phobia wane, then sputter out.

  Berevan extended a hand outwards to Caledon.

  "Ugh. It’s different with each elf. Here we go."

  [Flame wave of the wyvern]

  A wave of flame crashed into Caledon, sending him flying as Berevan Brimstone called his Fear into reality. They watched as the huge man shuddered, staring at his hand.

  "His Fear is scary."

  Shiver burst into action. She sprinted towards the Highlord, holding a sword in a clumsy grip. She leapt towards Berevan swinging it wildly towards his neck, the cracked surface rapidly approaching his jugular.

  Against the odds, Shiver succeeded.

  The edge of her blade plunged deep within his neck, provoking a bloody coughing fit. Flecks of blood sprayed across Shiver’s face, signifying the successful blow. They the Highlord shoved her off, and idly plucked the blade from his neck.

  Berevan called his Fear once more.

  [Tears of the Phoenix]

  The wounds in his neck closed up, and Shiver’s eyes widened. She fought a Berevan possessed by a Revenant. As clumsily as Dawn wielded his powers, the casual, overwhelming power of Berevan’s Fearshaping quickly became evident to her.

  His wounds melted away twice as easily as it was to inflict them.

  Berevan cleared his throat, now free of his own blood.

  "Woah, that’s handy."

  Vale stepped back in horror. She unleashed a scream of rage the likes of which had overcome her only once before her.

  On the day of her Fear’s inception.

  "I’LL KILL YOU FATHER!"

  Berevan flinched, and he gaped as he met Vale’s own bloodshot eyes, a towering scythe now in her hands.

  "Vale, I-’"

  Then he steeled his expression and-

  Ran – making a break towards the exit.

  Only to be intercepted by a shape which barrelled into him, knocking him off his feet.

  Triol’s skeleton lunged into the Highlord. The black skeleton encircled his arms around a leg, hooking his feet to debris that covered the mansion’s floor.

  Vale’s eyes widened.

  Triol. He acted on his own accord?

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  Then, familiar laughter filled the hall that froze Vale in her tracks. Vale felt a familiar Fear assert itself, her father’s aura slowing her lifeblood in its tracks, the mark of his presence.

  Shiver’s eyes narrowed as she felt the same, only for something within her to snap.

  The blood that had begun to slow, carried on in its path, unimpeded. And she watched as the undead crow snapped around to meet her gaze wordlessly. She had broken the force of the Deathbringer’s aura-

  For ice and all it delivered was her own domain.

  The crow’s beak opened to an unnatural degree, evoking a familiar sense of dread in Vale. Then, as if encountering a passing nuisance, Veteran Revenant’s laughter echoed throughout the hall.

  "My my, what a wonderful day it’s been."

  The crow, perched on one of the few remaining bannisters high above them, gazed down at them with pinpricks of void in its eyes.

  "The honourable phoenix, such a thorn in my side, finally removed. Undead fall all too easily to Brimstone flames, you see."

  The crow fixed Vale with its gaze.

  "Finally in dear Dawn’s grasp. Isn’t the shape of her Fear beautiful, Vale? What wonderful daughters I’ve raised, the both of you. But I must say…"

  His gaze turned to Triol’s black skeleton, now animated by Vale’s Fearshaping.

  "You were always so full of surprises, Vale."

  He laughed, alighting on Triol’s shoulder, peering at his skeleton.

  "Your brother, was not strong enough to accept the power he so desired. But I wonder, what shape your Fear will take-"

  Shiver leapt at the crow in a whirl, swinging her Phobia like a club which smashed through the crow’s body, scattering its bones across the debris.

  Less than a second afterwards, the bones coalesced as if Shiver’s strike had been a fiction. Familiar laughter rang out, echoing hollowly in the burnt shell of Brimstone Manor. The crow turned its gaze to Caledon, who groaned. Wracked by the burns Dawn had inflicted by the simple invocation.

  Despite his injuries, his eyes burned with rage.

  "You’ll forgive me, young Brimstone. Your father’s abilities are indispensable to me. He has been a sword hanging over my neck for far too long, and finally, I will be the one to wield it. I-"

  Vetrian was interrupted as the ground around them began to shake.

  Thump.

  Something was approaching.

  Vetrian’s gloating tone vanished.

  "Dawn, leave now."

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  A pause.

  Shiver watched in awe, as sections of the wall glowed as if the tiniest threads of glowing lava had woven itself throughout the entirety of its surface.

  Then one of the mansion's walls exploded inwards. Shattered chunks of stone soared inwards.

  Shiver took advantage of the distraction, lunging forwards and gripping the crow’s head in her hands.

  "Trying it again? You should know, it won’t be enough. I’ll just reform-"

  [Desolation]

  Embers winked out. The air stood still.

  Caledon watched, as the eternal vortex of flame circling in his father’s greatsword sputtered out.

  Vale touched a finger to the line of blood that traced itself from her nose, from the sudden deprivation of moisture in the air.

  For frost reigned, in that split second, in the heart of the Archcity of Flames.

  Shiver invoked her Fear, the invocation gained from the formation of her Fearcore in her descent from Anhedonia. Where her hope and joy was sacrificed at the altar of her revenge.

  The crow’s skeleton, possessed by Vetrian Revenant fell into dust, as if reduced to a passing winter wind.

  The Deathbringer silenced. Shiver’s voice croaked out.

  "Take that, you old necrophiliac."

  Then, the split second came to an end, and a gruff, booming voice cut through the air.

  "Not bad, girl. Leave the rest to me."

  The first thing the trio glimpsed in the midst of the dust caused by the explosion, was a hammer that glowed like the surface of the sun, entirely wrought in heat.

  Tears burned in Caledon’s eyes, as they so rarely did in the past when he glimpsed his father’s Fearshaping in truth, at its very height.

  Then, the elf’s aura finally reached them, the shape of their Fear imposed upon the world around them.

  Vale stumbled backwards as she suddenly felt like she stood in the light of a sun, the sound of hammers ringing harshly on dark anvils around her, bellows stirring flames like flares from a star.

  Shiver could smell the scent of oil and metal - cast in the midst of an unparalleled forge. It burned hotter than any Brimstone forge, which would bow under the extent of the heat this Fear embodied.

  For just a moment, the sickening Fear that had settled within her, comprising her Fearcore withdrew instinctually.

  As if afraid.

  Then her eyes widened in realisation.

  Wait… I’ve felt this sensation before. The archaeologist’s guild. Aveline’s vault. When-

  "Rest, now. Leave the rest to me, aye?"

  Caledon rose groggily, hope filling his chest, as he heard the voice once more. He called out weakly. For he alone recognised it.

  "Sakar. Father he-"

  "I know, lad."

  "My father… he might raise the other unde-"

  Vale’s words halted in their path as she caught a glimpse as the dust dissipated.

  The undead lay defeated outside. Not just defeated, they were obliterated. Bones scattered, most of them crushed into dust. Not a single corpse or skeleton lay standing.

  Berevan stood to his feet. He held out a hand before him.

  "Uh... hi c-"

  [Hammer of the Sunforge]

  The smith’s immense hammer accelerated to a blur in an instant, smashing into the top of Berevan’s head, driving it into the ground.

  The shockwave of its impact with the ground sent Vale recoiling, falling.

  "Give him peace, ye wretched Revenant. Out."

  Vale’s eyes widened as she Berevan rise slowly, her sister clearly recoiling from the blow.

  [Tears of the Phoe-]

  "Oh no yer don’t."

  Another slam like lightning, sending debris tumbling from the ceiling above them. Shiver slammed into her, pushing her out of the way just as a beam came tumbling from the roof.

  Berevan lay on his back, the smith standing over him. Sadness coloured Sakar’s stony features, but he did not waver for an instant.

  "Be at peace milord."

  Dreadwalk: I burned with the light of a hundred stars

  Caledon watched unblinkingly, as his master, the legend of the underforges-

  Shed his skin.

  Sakar’s skin peeled away to reveal his blood beneath it. It flowed in the smith’s veins, coloured white with the heat of stars. He could see the smith’s skeleton, shining as if cast from the purest darksilver.

  Caledon screamed as the shape of Sakar’s Fear reached him, in truth. For his aura failed to scratch the surface of the man’s Fear.

  Sakar shot forwards like a star, obliterating the debris in his path in seconds. He slammed his blinding hammer of white faster than should have been physically possible. A shockwave erupted outwards as the speed of his swing surpassed that of sound.

  In a moment of perfect silence, Caledon watched as it tore through Berevan’s skull.

  Obliterating it.

  He watched blearily as the room shifted around him.

  Oh. I’m flying.

  Shiver and Vale were torn away from their position, sent flying like ragdolls. Shiver lunged with the remaining vestiges of her energy and dexterity, calling her Phobia into reality to use what meagre protection its cracked blade offered to guard them from the outpouring of flame that followed.

  Finally, sound returned, marked by a soft ringing and trickling of blood from their ears.

  As they opened their eyes, a scar of shadow imprinted in their vision from the blinding light they glimpsed, they saw Sakar standing, engulfed in flames.

  Dreadwalking.

  After what seemed like an eternity, they subsided.

  Not a single sign of Berevan’s body remained. He had been incinerated.

  Only ash remained.

  Time seemed to stand still around them, the second drawing out infinitely, only ending when the elf dropped his hammer to the ground, with a crash that reverberated through their bones.

  Then, with a blink, the skin that had peeled away, returned to him, encasing his body once more.

  A haze of heat hung around Sakar, as he panted, gripping his Phobia.

  With a flick of his hand, the hammer shattered into a flash of flame, disappearing. The elf walked over to Caledon kneeling before the boy.

  "I’m sorry, son."

  His eyes were red. Tears dripped down his cheeks, despite the flames that he had called.

  He gripped Caledon’s arm, helping him to his feet. Vale and Shiver rose to their feet unsteadily. Vale just continued to stare where Berevan had laid previously, shaking in place.

  Sakar met Vale’s gaze and narrowed, as he noticed the skeleton that rose behind her. He extended his hand out, as if to call back his hammer.

  "S-sakar don’t."

  The elf hesitated, peering into the boy’s forlorn expression. Then he relented, helping Caledon to his feet.

  As the ash settled, silence encased Brimstone Manor once more.

  Signifying the final departure of a legend.