The Old Kingdom: Darkness Rising

Drake seriously was considering Vetala's offer when, luckily, Samara spoke first, and yeah, the gorl had a point. He was glad to have her on the team.
He said to Samara. "Umm, not trying to be a pain, but I think we could do less talking, more bulletproof ass-kicking right about now. Hey, do you think you can do the whole pulling-your-opponents-to-you spell to bring the chopper down?"

 

Nyx

Drake just dropped her by the wall and left.

Nyx clenched her fists. She hated feeling so useless. Her spells were pretty powerful, and she definitely could have helped push back the helicopters... shot them out of the sky with a sparking ball of electricity, or, if she was feeling powerful enough, pulled lightning out of the stormy sky and brought the machine down with a little more flare.

Why the hell did I only choose one offensive spell? she thought bitterly. Oh, wait, maybe because I didn't expect to be attacked by everyone I grew up with.

Someone, at least, had sort of explained what happened. Apparently the vampire, Vetala, had been slowly turning the town against them all for weeks. It explained her mom's sudden and growing distance, at least.

Nyx snarled, clenching her fists tighter, and started to walk closer to the wall. Vetala, Vetala, Vetala. Nyx couldn't deny that she was smoking hot, but damn, Nyx hated her. Almost to the point where she wanted to kill the woman, personally... no, she wasn't a person. She didn't count. But she was going to die anyway, some sort of exorcism-ritual-thing that would kill all her "children", so to speak... so Nyx could hold on a little bit longer without frying Vetala's brain in her sleep.

Nyx flared her nostrils and forcefully exhaled through her nose. Well, she wasn't strong enough to actually fight yet, but... she could work on decreasing energy use while maintaining her electricity balls, and look for her classmates at the same time.

Nyx took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and searched for the familiar warmth that she called upon every time she used her power. She'd always imagined it as a lake filled with glowing, golden liquid, similar to mercury.

Come on, she thought. I need to remember my lessons. Damn it, why didn't I pay more attention? Wait... she trailed off, remembering.

Miss Wintersmith had always on her about not overusing her power.

"Nyx," she had said, exasperated. "Nyx, you're too impatient. Let the energy trickle out. Right now, you're letting it all flow out at once, and some day, that's going to drain you, maybe to the point where you don't have enough to support you anymore."

Nyx had just scoffed, then, but... that must have been what happened. She let that lake drain way too fast, and she passed out because she was close to emptying it. Apparently, the body needed some of that energy to keep going.

What she needed was a dam. Something that she could control, let her power flow out like a creek, as opposed to a river.

Nyx took a deep breath, held out her hand, and imagined the golden energy trickling down her arm and collecting in her palm. She cracked open an eye, glancing at her hand, and almost whooped in excitement. There, hovering slightly above her hand, was a ball of electricity. And, even better, it wasn't sapping her strength at such a rapid rate.

Nyx forged ahead with a new spring in her step.

Wait, she thought, narrowing her eyes. Who's that? A faint shadow of a person, standing by the wall.

"Hey!" she shouted, the ball of electricity dissipating with a crackle. "Hey, who's there?" Nyx shot forward in a flat out sprint, almost falling over herself in her rush to see another person. She hoped to whatever god watched over them all that it was a classmate.

At one point, she did trip over herself, falling to the ground mid-stride, but somehow, Nyx managed to transform the stumble into a clumsy roll back to her feet.

Come on, she thought. Come on, listen to me! Whoever you are, listen to me! she tacked on, an afterthought.

"Listen to me!" she yelled. When the figure still didn't turn, Nyx paused. The chances of this being an enemy, a trap were increasing with every step she took. The person standing there could be a soldier just waiting for her to get close enough to whisk away. Nyx's desperate gaze hardened, and she skidded to a stop, gathering static electricity in her hands, molding it into a sphere. If this doesn't get their attention, nothing will, she thought grimly.

And with that, she hurled the ball with all of her strength.

 

Andreas

To be honest, he was starting to get a bit frustrated. All that running away, watching other people act, and when he was finally prepared to find out what he was made of, he'd been whisked away. But, he thought with a sigh, the most useful thing I can do for everyone is stick to the plan and be where they expect me to be. He moved quickly and quietly. The Wall was pretty close now, but he couldn't see his classmates.

"Hey!" she shouted, the ball of electricity dissipating with a crackle. "Hey, who's there?"
Andreas skidded to a halt. That was Nyx, right? Great, someone he knew. Yes, It WAS Nyx, the one person in class he tended to argue with. But did that matter right now? He started towards her. Maybe this would be one of those shared, traumatic adventures that bring people together. Cue the theme song.

"Listen to me!" she yelled.
Typical, impatient Nyx. He could see her now, closer than he'd expected. He was just about to shout out 'Can't you back off for once? I'm coming, already!' As it happened, he got as far as "Ca- " when he cut himself short. Nyx wasn't talking to him at all. She was talking to the soldier. The one badly concealed behind a tree, finger on the trigger, trembling with apprehension. A poor show from a soldier, it had to be said.
Well, this is it. Time for a criminal record. Time to cause damage to another human being.
He hastily blocked his discomfort, and moved to act.

And with that, she hurled the ball with all of her strength.

The ball left Nyx's hand, and the soldier began to turn his gun. It all happened in surreal slow-motion. His vision narrowed to the soldier's right hand. In that everlasting instant, he was aware of the man's flesh, delicate and squishy, wrapped around the stronger mass of bone. Behind it all was the impenetrable solid of the gun's metal, and the spike of the trigger with the index finger wrapped snake-like around it. He churned the mix of muscles and tendons and ligaments about, grinding them into the sort of paste they put in the cafeteria sausages. The connecting tissues failed, and the man's fingers dangled at unlikely angles.

The everlasting instant ended, the ball of electricity still mid-air.

 

Joe fell when Drake left to get the others. Their legs just went out from under them and they hit the ground in an awkward heap. They lay there with their face in the grass for several seconds, just breathing heavily and feeling a bug crawl across their cheek. Whatever reservoirs of energy had been carrying them this far were officially exhausted. Their arm hurt. Their neck felt like it was bleeding again. They were still being hunted. But they were almost at the OK now, right? And the others would be there soon. They could afford a minute of terror and exhaustion.

But as the moments ticked by with the crack of bullets in the distance and still no sign of Ms. Wintersmith, the panic began to rise again. She'd managed to follow them, right? She'd got out before the soldiers found her, right? So where was she?

Joe sat up unsteadily, mind racing. They needed to get back. Never should've got out of there so soon, shouldn't have left her. How could they just leave her behind and assume things would work out? Ms. Wintersmith had always seemed so powerful, knowledgeable. ...But that wasn't really why. The truth was, Joe had always thought of her as their teacher, an authority figure, and an adult who could protect them. But she was just a person, like anybody else. And they'd left her behind.

Could Drake- No, it looked like he wasn't coming back. Joe hoped that was by choice, and not because he'd caught a stray bullet. They were too far away from the cave. Desperately they felt out for the presence of their clone, in case it was close enough to help...? But it was gone, scattered into mist by angry soldiers.

So they sat there, banging plan after useless plan against each other, and feeling more and more afraid. Then they heard someone yelling.

Joe staggered to their feet, slid and fell. They reached the space between the forest and the wall and froze when they saw the scene. Nyx, Andreas, and a soldier. Probably left to scout the wall in case they made it this far. Joe had no idea what to do, but the other students were already moving. Nyx's lightning was nearing its mark when Andreas ground the man's hand into putty. Joe didn't see the moment the lightning stuck. The sight of flesh churned like clay was the final straw, and at last they found themselves vomiting what little they'd eaten that day into the bushes. Just when they thought they'd finished, the smell of burned skin and hair reached their nostrils and they found themselves heaving again.

As if they weren't already the weird, fragile kid in class. Way to promote your image, buddy.

...It was a dumb thing to worry about, considering the situation they were in.

The soldier lay unmoving, smoke rising from a giant singed patch on his uniform. Was he dead? Joe didn't want to know. They didn't check. Instead they found themselves pulling the heavy gun out of his mangled hands. A bit of flesh that might once have been a finger came away with it, caught on the trigger. It fell onto the ground with a soft thud. Joe tried not to look at it.

They didn't know what they were doing anymore. They didn't understand any of this. Were any of the others still alive? Would any of them be by the end of the day? There were too many enemies, and they were nowhere near strong enough to stop it. It was like living in a nightmare.

They got the feeling that Nyx and Andreas might be staring - or maybe that was just in their head. Then again, they were holding a machine gun. Or something. Joe barely knew what a gun was before today.

"The others..." their voice came out slow and heavy. They weren't totally sure what they were even saying. "I don't think...I think they need help. I'm going to... if I make a lot of noise, maybe it'll draw some soldiers away from them." They examined the thing in their hands. It looked ready to fire, probably. That soldier had looked scared enough to want them dead. Joe looked up the others, too tired for the eye contact to scare them. "I think the others are in trouble. I...don't know what else to do."

 

Nyx

When she threw the ball, she hadn't expect it to actually hit its mark. She generally had awful aim.

She also didn't expect Andreas to be there, too. Then again, if she had been paying more attention, she probably would have noticed him. But hey, she had a short attention span. Speaking of attention spans...

Nyx shook her head and focused back on the scene in front of her. A soldier, a very likely dead soldier was lying there... and Nyx had done it.

For all her bravado and brash overconfidence, Nyx knew that she was impulsive, occasionally aggressive, and often (always) acted and spoke without thinking. But she never expected a dead soldier to come out of a split-second decision like that. And suddenly, it was hitting her that... she had killed a man. She didn't need to check for a pulse, knowing that that amount of electricity hitting a man in the chest would have stopped his heart.

And suddenly, Joe was there, trembling all over with a glassy look in their eyes, and a queasy shade of green colored their cheeks.

"Oh, god, no, don't," she whispered, mainly to herself, idly wandering closer. She knew that slightly green tinge well enough. But, her silent plea remained unheard, and Joe stumbled over to the bushes, where the faint sound of retching was heard.

That was what made it all real, and wave after wave of guilt hit her, not only for the dead man, but for making poor Joe so disgusted with her actions that they had to throw up in the bushes.

Poor Joe. They were always so quiet in class, and from what she saw.

Joe stood up a little taller with shaky knees, and wiped their mouth with their sleeve. They glanced back down at the dead soldier, and gently pried the gun from his hands, looking a little queasy again when a piece of mushy flesh was ripped off with it. The once-finger fell off and hit the ground with a barely audible thunk.

"The others..." they said, trailing off. "I don't think... I think they need help. I'm going to..." They gulped once, before continuing. "If I make a lot of noise, maybe it'll draw some soldiers away from them. Joe glanced at the gun in their hands with barely concealed disgust and fear. They looked up a little bit, but didn't meet her eyes, or Andreas's. "I think the others are in trouble. I... don't know what else to do."

"Wait," Nyx said, holding a hand up. "There is something else we can do. As much as I hate to admit it, because Andreas is a dick..." she paused, and glanced at him. He looked vaguely offended. "...We do seem to make a pretty good team. Thanks," she said, more softly. "He could've shot me... and that would be unfortunate."

Nyx took a deep breath, in and out. "Anyway. We took care of this guy, but... the army surely didn't just send one man out here to guard the wall. I'm sure the others are wandering around here too, and they probably have no clue about the men stationed here. If we can find the soldiers that are hiding, and take them out..." Nyx looked up for some form of confirmation, instead seeing Joe start to turn green again. Nyx's eyes widened, realizing what she said. She quickly rectified the statement. "No, no, not kill them! No. No, I can't do that again. I mean... knock them out, or injure them just enough so that they can't shoot or capture anyone else."

Nyx paused, and leaned down, checking the corpse for any more weapons. Her hand shook slightly.

Yes! she thought, finally, finding a knife sheath. She unbuckled it and offered it to Joe with a shaky smile. "How about I take the gun? I'm great at making noise, and being a distraction. You can be the stealth person, you can turn invisible, right?"

 

Vetala let her hand drop from Ms Wintersmith's mouth when Samara was done speaking. "Whatever," she grumbled in response, not quite meeting Samara's eyes. Was it possible that the vampire was afraid of a teenager?

"Thank you, Samara," Ms Wintersmith told her student with a quick smile. Then she yanked down the arm that was iced to Vetala, causing her to cry out in pain and nearly fall over. "And that's for covering my mouth!" she snapped.

"Die, witches!" The hateful scream was heard through the thinning ice; it belonged to the soldier manning the machine gun in the low-flying helicopter. They only had a handful of seconds before the ice wall was completely destroyed.

"What do we do?" Alex asked frantically, his eyes darting from Samara to Drake.

"Maybe I can whip up a blizzard?" Ms Wintersmith suggested, and she immediately started waving her hand in a circle. Cold blue light spiraled from her fingers to the ground and snowflakes materialized and started whirling around in a tiny cyclone. But it was glaringly obvious that it would take her too long to conjure a blizzard; the barrier would shatter long before then.

That's when a section of the ice wall broke off and bullets flew over their heads.

"Save me, you stupid sorcerers!" Vetala shrieked, ducking low.

 

Samara​

When the ice wall shattered, Samara immediately stepped into the breach. “I’ll draw their fire… literally,” she said, gesturing for the others to stay away from her. The bullets seemed to curve through the air, as if drawn toward her. They hit her armor and, rather than ricocheting off, seemed to lose all force and harmlessly fall to the ground, as if their energy had been drained.

Cracks began to appear in her crystal shell, but Samara channeled the kinetic energy absorbed from the bullets and used it to heal the armor. It was a neverending cycle of damage and repair, but keeping it up took concentration and focus. She could just store up that energy and use it to counterattack by launching herself at the helicopter like a wrecking ball… but that would cause untold carnage: a crashed chopper, a bunch of dead soldiers, and draw all kinds of unwanted attention.

“We need that blizzard, ma’am. Blind them with a whiteout, so you and Vetala can escape,” Samara said, her voice sounding very strained. She couldn’t keep this up forever. “Drake can teleport me to you, once you’re away from the helicopter’s line of sight. We will walk the rest of the way together”

 

Drake
"Wait what?" he said.
He was nust there to bring in the cavalry, or, well, tank girl. Not stay last in a cave that's being fired at by a machine gun. He gulped, and positioned himself firmly behind Samara.

Look at yourself he thought. Here you are, brave Drake, hiding behind a girl. Well, a bulletproof girl, but still.

No, no. He needed to do something. Even if it meant getting himself killed.

Wait what? He didn't mean that last part at all. Unfortunately, by then, he already teleported, and instead of the cave, he found himself in the helicopter's interior.

The noise was even more unbearable inside. How in the world could these people stand it. Fortunately, it also meant the soldiers didn't hear him. Before they noticed him, Drake decided to act.

He grabbed one lever. "What's this do?" he asked, then pulled.

 

Trisana

Everything seemed to be falling apart. They were at the Wall, but they had abandoned Ms Wintersmith and Alex. Then, they were ambushed by a random soldier and Nyx killed him with a lightning-ball. "Geez, we could've just wacked him upside the head," Trisana had grumbled under her breath. And now Drake had taken Samara back to the cave...and left her behind.

"Why wouldn't he bring me?!" Trisana cried, stomping angrily. "I'm smart! I'm pretty! I'm Bae! And I asked him on a date to a theme park! Why did he take Samara instead?!" Trisana did not totally understand why she was so furious. Was it because she liked Drake more than just a crush? But whatever the cause, Trisana was pissed off, and she decided that Samara was going to pay.

"Samara, ha!" Trisana scoffed. "More like See-ya-tommorrah!" She laughed harshly at her stupid little joke and then kicked up some rocks. After a moment of feeling sorry for herself, she thought about Ms Wintersmith and that weird shy boy, Alex. How they were probably in a really stick situation right about now and could use all the help they could get. "Fine, I'll go help," Trisana growled. "But if Samara gets in my way I'll...I'll..." Trisana thought of Samara's formidable height and strength, and realized that she probably wouldn't be able to shove her. "Well, I'll bite her nose!" she finished defiantly.

She was a few yards away from the cave when she saw the helicopter from behind. I could easily sneak up on them. She started creeping forward. If only they would just keep looking away from me...that's right, dumb soldiers...don't turn around. Trisana was just five steps behind them when Drake appeared inside the helicopter. She watched in shock as Drake said something (she couldn't hear him over the helicopter noise, but she guessed that it was a witty joke), and then he leaned down to pull a lever. "Oh, shit!" Trisana cussed. She had to get in there to help. Without hesitation, she dashed forward and leaped into the helicopter, colliding with one of the soldiers.

"Get off my maaaan!!!" she screamed like a banshee.

 

Poor Nyx. She was doing her best to stay stoic, but the shake in her voice told Joe she was just as shaken by the soldier's fate. Even so, her hand was steady as she offered them the knife. "How about I take the gun? I'm great at making noise, and being a distraction. You can be the stealth person, you can turn invisible, right?"

Joe nodded slowly, considering. They hated the thing in their hands. Handing it over was so tempting, letting it be someone else's responsibility. But that meant giving it to someone who couldn't hide from the soldiers who'd be shooting back.

At last, they shook their head. "It better be me- if they can't see where the shots are coming from, maybe- they might panic more. And I can, uh, phase through their bullets?" They didn't mention the fact that their phasing didn't work on forces like temperature. Bullets were pretty hot, as far as they knew. If they did get shot, the bullet itself might not leave a mark, but the heat it carried would probably burn a track through their body. Would that be enough to kill them? Could you even treat an internal burn? Why were they thinking about this!?

They took a breath. "You're right, about more soldiers. You guys could- Please, I mean- We need to find the entryway! To the kingdom. If you can get to the, where they accept entrance papers- Maybe if you make enough noise. Tell them there's Vetala, and- magic users under attack!" It was a long shot, but maybe...maybe the kingdom would at least open up long enough to take in Nyx and Andreas. Maybe at least the two of them would make it.

"I-I'm sorry!"

Not entirely sure why they said that, Joe flickered once more into invisibility and ran off back towards the sounds of gunfire. They waited until they were a good distance away before pointing the gun into the sky and pulling the trigger. It was like an explosion in their arms. The sound staggered them, and the heavy machine jerked wildly against their shoulder. Fighting off panic, they barely managed to stop its fire. A line of bullets blasted the trunk of a previously sturdy oak a short ways ahead. For a stomach-churning moment Joe saw it as a person with outstretched arms, before recognising it for the tree it was. But what about next time?

Shouts of alarm from nearby. Was this daft excuse for a plan working? They had to keep moving, draw the soldiers in as many different directions as possible.

They began to run again. Every so often they'd stop, fire into the air, then change directions. Then they heard voices almost directly ahead of them. Was it the others? Their heart raced. It was impossible to tell over the surrounding chaos. It could just as easily be the army hunting them down.

Still invisible, heart pounding, but hands well clear of the trigger, they stepped through the trees.

 

Andreas

Andreas felt a strange twinge of pride as Joe came and took the machine gun from the soldier's hands. Joe was becoming more active by the minute. Pride? Why pride? It didn't have anything to do with him, did it? And then he saw the squishy finger flopping to the floor. He stifled a moment of horror and disgust. He must have ground the man's hand harder than he thought.

He turned his mind away from it by listening to Joe talking. They were planning more distraction. Fair enough, but Andreas felt the need for something a little more decisive.

"As much as I hate to admit it, because Andreas is a dick... "

He felt vaguely offended. I mean, coming from Nyx it wasn't out of the ordinary. He was just thinking of some snide comeback, when...


"...We do seem to make a pretty good team. Thanks," she said, more softly. "He could've shot me... and that would be unfortunate."

...which caught him a bit off-guard. He actually felt disappointment for a split second. He secretly enjoyed a bit of a verbal tussle. I'm still a child, he thought, and then his humanity kicked in and he smiled gently.
"You're welcome," he said. He'd done something. He'd protected one of his classmates. A surge of relief passed him. Then Nyx began talking about taking out soldiers, and it sounded good. Whatever it took to get them out of this mess. Invisible Joe with knife in hand, it started to sound good... then Joe ran off with the gun to make more distractions. Again, fair enough. He admired their compassion. Joe's gunfire trailed off into the distance.

"Right then! Nyx ol' buddy ol' pal," he said with a wry smile, "shall we take out some soldiers? Injure, I mean." He promised himself he'd try not to grind up bones this time, only flesh. That was healable, right? Without waiting for (or paying much attention to) the answer, he moved off into the trees, keeping parallel to the Wall. He'd gotten not very far at all when he looked straight into the eyes of a soldier trying to conceal himself in the undergrowth. He saw fear. They looked at each other, neither making a move.

"Looks like we caught you before you were finished hiding."

The soldier nodded his head. The look on his face gave a simple message:
'Let's pretend we never saw each other.'

Andreas was happy with that. Slowly, he began to walk past him. They stared at each other. This time, he targeted the mass of muscle and tendon in the man's forearm. Those were the muscles and tendons that controlled the fingers, right? It would be easier to grind them up and leave the bone alone. Andreas lifted a hand, ready to act. The soldier reacted by raising his gun a little. This made Andreas twitchy, and caused him to raise his hand a little more. Then the soldier lost his nerve and flicked the barrel of the gun in his direction. Andreas ground away, but at the same moment the gun fired.

A thud in the chest.
Cold.

 

Nyx

"They've got balls," Nyx muttered, shaking her head in grudging admiration. Joe was surprisingly courageous, for someone who almost never spoke in class. Sure, the look on their face before they ran off was absolutely terrified, but to be honest, so was Nyx. The only reason she appeared so calm on the outside was because that particular mask was one she perfected. And even so, she knew that the mask was cracking. But she couldn't really bring herself to care.

"Right then!" Nyx jumped a little at Andreas's carefully controlled cheerful tone. "Nyx ol' buddy ol' pal, shall we take out some soldiers? Injure, I mean," he tacked on. His grin was almost catlike in appearance, straight white teeth flashing against the dark sky.

"Alright," she whispered, letting the mask drop for a split second. When she turned to look back at Andreas, he was gone. Nyx rolled her eyes. Of course he would run off. Nyx studied the scene around her, looking for any hint that would tell her what direction Andreas had disappeared in.

There. The bush to her right was still quivering, as if someone had forced their way through. Nyx pushed her way past, walking a little bit. It wasn't too long before she found the Hispanic teen warily facing off against another soldier. He had his hand raised only slightly, yet the way his thick eyebrows crashed suspiciously on his dark brown eyes made him seem vaguely threatening.

A silent conversation seemed to take place in that instant, a maybe-truce if left alone.

It took half a second for everything to go wrong. Andreas moved a little too threateningly, obviously intending to disarm the soldier in front of him. (Subtlety had never been one of his strong points, but to be fair, it wasn't one of Nyx's either.)

The soldier aimed haphazardly and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out in the night, louder and more lonely by far than the crows, or the machine gun fire in the distance. Andreas looked stunned for a moment, before his eyes glazed over with pain and he collapsed.

In the same moment, the soldier screamed, so high-pitched and inhumane that Nyx had to wince.

The sound that slipped past her lips wasn't that different. She stumbled forward, collapsing beside Andreas with an almost-sob. One of the only things she liked about him (or so she told herself, he wasn't actually an awful person) were their frequent wars of wit. Well, he wasn't bad looking either, but. That wasn't the point.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she rasped out, barely able to move her dry lips. Nyx screwed her eyes tightly shut, counting to five and forcing herself to calm down. If Andreas was going to make it out of this alive, (Like Will? her mind helpfully supplied. "Fuck off," she told it crossly.) she had to keep a cool head. Taking a deep breath, Nyx firmly slid on a mask of solemn indifference. She studied the boy, searching for blood.

I can't see a thing, she thought, and summoned a ball of electricity. While flickering and constantly changing, it still gave off enough light to see. Nyx removed her hand from the air, making sure the sphere would stay afloat without dissipating, and when it did, she gave a small sigh of relief.

Sorry, she thought in advance, pulling out the serrated knife she had tried to pass on to Joe. She cut away his loose-fitting tee, wincing when her hand slipped on still-wet blood. Once he was bare-chested, Nyx moved the ball of electricity closer to his face, trying to see where exactly the bullet had hit.

Nyx almost fell over backwards in relief when she saw the entry wound in his right shoulder, as opposed to his heart, or collarbone, or lungs.

And it's not spraying blood, so not an artery? she thought, quickly regaining her balance. Thank you, Sherlock. Or whatever show taught me that there's an artery in the shoulder. Still need bandages, though. Nyx glanced around, looking for something other than her sweaty tee or his sweaty tee to tie up his shoulder with.

A high, keening sound came from her right. Nyx whipped her head around. She had forgotten about the soldier. Weren't soldiers supposed to have medical supplies? They were, weren't they?

Nyx purposefully stood, fixing the soldier with her fiercest glare. The young man caught her eyes and curled tighter into his little ball, still holding his ruined arm protectively to his chest and sobbing in pain.

"Tell me where your bandages are," she growled, kneeling and leaning forward so that their faces were almost touching. He shook his head, his face so white that if it were snowing, Nyx was sure he would blend in. Nyx's eyes narrowed into slits. She stood abruptly, kicking him as hard as she could in the knees, knowing it would injure his already mangled arm. He screamed again, eyes glazed with pain, and suddenly relaxed, his ruined arm falling to the ground. Nyx glared. "Oh, no you don't." She picked up his icy canteen and threw the water into his face. He gasped, jolting completely awake again.

"Tell me," she started, voice icy. "Where your fucking bandages are, or I won't hesitate to remove your arm. You just hurt my friend real bad, so I swear to whatever higher being is out there, you're going to fucking help." She tried not to think about the implications of that. Was Andreas a friend? Well, if not, to an unsuspecting soldier, a pissed off friend was a lot scarier than a pissed off rival.

He spoke for the first time, absolutely terrified, his voice a timid squeak. "I'm no medic, I only have a few! They're in that pocket!" He patted a little pouch on his leg with his good arm. Nyx tore it off, and pulled out a small roll of bandages, hopefully sterile.

With a yell, she kicked him again, as hard as she could, in the arm, and returned to Andreas's side. The scream the young soldier emitted was long and drawn out, and ended suddenly. Nyx ignored it.

She knew that she could have just knocked him out and searched him, and somewhere she knew that she was being unnecessarily cruel, but she didn't care. Some people would get mad, but take the higher path. But Nyx got furious, and got revenge. And after that last kick, she felt better, if only a little bit.

Nyx set the bandages on the ground, heart still pounding in her ears. But she took another deep breath, and concentrated. She could duplicate the bandages, and hopefully have enough to wrap Andreas's shoulder.

"Duplicate," Nyx whispered. This spell was harder for her, and required her to actually speak aloud for it to work. Something tugged her energy away, if only slightly, and when she opened her eyes, two rolls of bandages sat in front of her. But she'd need a lot more.

Oh, well, Nyx thought, and picked up the almost-empty canteen, washing the bullet wound out as well as she could.

"Please be okay," she murmured absently, as she began to wrap his shoulder. Around his chest, over his arm. Around his chest, over his arm.

Please be okay. I can't take another death.

 

Samara's tactic worked perfectly. The soldier manning the machine gun looked confused and frustrated. He tried to pull up the gun and aim for her head, but the bullets kept curving and hitting her armor instead.

The lever that Drake pulled caused the helicopter to start to swing around in circle. Trisana jumped inside at the perfect moment and tackled the soldier on the machine gun out the other side of the helicopter, the soldier hitting his head on a rock and blacking out.

The helicopter continued to spin wildly as Ms Wintersmith walked out the cave, Vetala in tow. Their teacher was still making graceful circle-motions with her hand and her cyclone had grown to shoulder height. Suddenly she snapped her fingers and the cyclone rushed out into the open air, spreading out and gathering force, slamming right into the helicopter. Drake flew out the other side and landed in the bushes. The soldiers inside barely had enough time to scream before the blizzard carried the helicopter away, covering the clearing and the treetops in a glittering blanket of snowflakes.

"Took you long enough," Vetala grumbled.

"The Army is almost upon us," Alex announced just as a tank exploded out of the woods. Countless soldiers poured out of the trees behind the tank, raising their guns to fire.

"Run!" Ms Wintersmith shouted to her students, and they all did just that. They made a mad dash to the Wall, ducking and weaving, bullets flying everywhere. Finally, they made it to the Gate. Ms Wintersmith needn't have worried over having official papers, because the Gate was hanging open for anyone to pass through. "Inside, inside!" Ms Wintersmith cried, ushering her students forward. The soldiers came charging out of the treeline behind them just as Ms Wintersmith raised her hand and shouted, "Ventoso!" A huge swell of icy wind lifted them and carried them through the Gate, depositing them gently on the other side. Once they were through, Vetala slammed shut the Gate and lowered a huge wooden bar that would usually take a dozen men to move, but she did it with just one hand.

"There," the vampire muttered. "Stupid soldiers."

A magical change was coming over all of them: their modern clothes were slowly turning into medieval garb. Ms Wintersmith's black dress with a white collar turned into a long sapphire gown, a dark grey cloak falling from her shoulders. Her intricate braids also came undone and thick white hair fell to her waist. She immediately looked younger, but her eyes were dull from exhaustion and slick perspiration covered her forehead. Alex's black hoodie turned into a midnight cloak that seemed to fit him naturally. He stared down at his new garb in quiet contemplation and then nodded. "This will do," Alex said out loud.

Directly in front of them was a wide-open field covered in tall grass, spotted with vivid wildflowers. Half a mile across there was the beginnings of another woods, and beyond that they could make out the shape of mountains on the horizon. There was a loud, booming roar and the shadow of a dragon passed over the yellow sun, flying swiftly to the south.

They were in the Old Kingdom.

 

Drake
The helicopter swerved to one side and Drake almost lost his balance. Then he heard a scream from behind him, and saw Tristine taking out the man with the machine gun. Wait a minute, didn't he just take her to the wall? He hadn't enough time to dwell on that question though, because at thatmoment he was thrown out of the helicopter and into a bush.

It took him a moment to regain his senses, and he got up heavily.
"Why do I even bother taking you guys?" he said to himself. But as he grumbled, a freaking tank appeared, and Ms Wintersmith screamed at them to run. Well, here was something Drake would definately not do.

He teleported Alex and Tristine to the wall (he couldn't find Samara, and, frankly, couldn't be bothered to search really hard), and waited for Ms Wintersmith there. Once she arrived, he followed her to the gate and entered right after.

The first thing he noticed was some kind of barrier at the edge of his mind, something which seemed to split the OK from the rest of the world. He had no idea how he knew, but he was sure that now he would not be able to teleport out of the kingdom, only inside it. Shame really.

The second thing was that his clothes changed. Instead of the jeans he now wore a pair of strange puffy pants and tights, in bright colours. His top was equally colourful, and equally old fashioned, with some kind of strange round collar that seemed to stick out. And he suddenly had a hat. A hat with a feather, he realised, as he took it off and examined it. These clothes were uncomfortable, and quite ridiculous to boot. Why couldn't he geta cool black cloak like Alex did?

Luckily, soon he saw something which managed to distract him.

"Holy shit," he said. "Was that a dragon?"

 

"Yes, it was," Ms Wintersmith told Drake with a tired smile. "There are only three dragons left in the world. The Pink Dragon, the Green Dragon, and the Red Dragon. I wonder which one that was?" She ended her question with a hacking cough that caused her to bend over double. Vetala scowled down at her in disgust. "Humans," Vetala grumbled, shaking her head. "They can't even run a mile without getting all worn out."

"You were once human, too," Ms Wintersmith fired back, gasping to catch her breath.

"That was a long, long time ago," Vetala replied dryly, "and I do not wish to discuss it."

"Good, because I don't care to hear it. You're a murderer, the bane of humankind--"

"You flatter me," the vampire interrupted with a coy smile.

"--and now that we're in the OK, we're one step closer to destroying you."

Vetala glared at the old sorceress, gritting her teeth, but for once she couldn't think of a comeback.

Meanwhile, Alex walked over to Samara and asked, "Are you okay? Your armor took a beating back there."

 

Samara

The moment Miss Wintersmith gave the order, Samara began to run. With her defensive magic still in effect, she was able to draw the enemy fire away from Vetala and her teacher. Drake vanished again, presumably to help someone. Strange, if this had happened yesterday, she would assume he had run away to save his own skin. Now, after everything she’d seen, she knew better. Everyone has a hero in them. A villain, too, but that’s a story for another day.

Samara wove through the trees, using them as cover. The bullets arced toward her, but most were intercepted by the forest’s sturdy old oak trees. She spotted Andreas and Nyx and wondered why they had fallen behind the others. Injuries, Samara thought. It seemed like the simplest explanation.

Without wasting a moment, she veered toward them. She had taken enough hits that her armor was nearly at full charge. It was practically glowing white. If this doesn’t work, I’m going to look really stupid, Samara thought as she built up speed and charged at the biggest tree she could find.

She slammed into it so hard, her armor shattered on impact, but the attack had the desired effect. Its massive roots were torn from the ground, kicking up a cloud of earth and rocks as the tree toppled. It fell with a thunderous crash, forming a barrier between the fleeing students and the approaching army. The tank would probably make short work of it, but at least it would slow the soldiers down.

Samara shook her head, trying to fight off the headache that had been creeping up on her over the last few minutes. She quickly caught up with Nyx and Andreas and threw his arm over her shoulder to help support him as they joined the others and passed through the Wall.

Through. The. Wall. Not just any wall, The Wall.

The levity of what they’d just done didn’t fully register until the shadow of a dragon passed overhead. Samara looked skyward, shielding her eyes from the sun. While she stood there, in a daze, her attire began to change. The sleeves of her hoodie began to change color and elongate, forming flowing sleeves. Her jeans became a flowing gown made of dark red scales, slit high up the sides, revealing low-heeled boots and a little more leg than she was comfortable showing. The collar was adorned with the feathers of some ancient bird. The neckline began to dive down in a sharp vee and, just when she feared it might not stop, a corset-like adornment wrapped around her abdomen.

The end result was a dark red battlemage’s robe, in the style of those who defended the Old Kingdom’s gates eons ago. They didn’t need armor; magic was their armor. She recognized it from her parent’s old books. Samara felt a mixture of pride and embarrassment while wearing this. It was like being caught wearing your Superman underwear. She didn’t snap out of it until she heard Alex’s voice.

"Are you okay? Your armor took a beating back there," he asked.

“My what?” she said, trying to hide the fact that she was blushing. “Oh, right… yeah… I suppose it did.” Insert nervous laugh here. “That is what armor is for, yes?” Dumb response, but it was the best she could do. She stared at her hands and flexed her fingers, then formed a fist. “I feel… strange. What is this? Where did our clothes go?”

 

Trisana

They were in the Old Kingdom. The OK. The Big Apple. No, wait, that was New York, but this was even better! The moment Trisana caught her breath, she ran forward and pranced through the tall grass, arms outstretched and wavy red-brown hair streaming behind her. "This is the liiife!" she cried, laughing with abandon. She continued to prance for a bit and only stopped when she stubbed her toe on a rock. "Ouchies! I mean, um, this is amaaazinnng! Nothing to see here!" Trisana tried to play off her klutzy moment by giving her classmates a huge smile, but the pain was written all over her face. Maybe I should start wearing shoes instead of flimsy sandals, she thought ruefully.

It wasn't until Trisana looked down to examine her foot did she notice that her entire outfit had changed. She was now wearing a white leather dress that laced up in the front and ended just above her knees. Her sandals were gone, replaced by delicate silver anklets that twinkled in the dreamy sunlight. A billowy white cloak was also clasped at her neck, flaring out like giant dove wings when a playful wind sprang up. "Wow, wow, wow!" she exclaimed. "I'm Cinderella, bitches! Hahaha!" Trisana started prancing once more, this time shooting rainbows into the air like party streamers. She was truly having the best time of her life.

 

Joe had sagged with relief upon finding it was their teacher and the other students, and not a platoon of soldiers, waiting beyond the trees. Ice and snow had bleached the clearing. It was beautiful, and strangely peaceful for a moment. Then the tank came roaring through the woods and they were all running as fast as they could towards the wall. The gun in Joe's hands, all but forgotten in their panic, banged against their leg awkwardly as they ran. They tossed aside its bulk and didn't look back.

Then they were through. They were inside the walls of the Old Kingdom. They had made it.

Completely exhausted, they dropped to their knees and flicked back into visibility. With the gate barred shut, the sounds of the commotion outside had gone eerily silent. It really was like an entirely different world. The air was clean and cold, and smelled like grass. ...And some kind of manure. They clutched at the (hopefully clean-ish) ground and breathed deeply. It was okay. Somehow, they had made it.

It took them a minute to realise their clothes were even changing. Their hoodie expanded into a soft grey cloak with a dappled pattern like the shadows of leaves. They watched leather gloves extend and wrap over their hands, fine enough not to constrict movement. Under the cloak, what was once a t-shirt and ill-fitting jeans had become a tunic and pants of some padded material they didn't recognize. Their sneakers were soft leather boots. It was suspiciously similar to the outfit they had given their elven thief character in that one RPG. It was...unexpected, but they had to admit it was a lot nicer than the hand-me-downs they'd entered with. About the only thing they were sorry about was the blue streak in their hair, which had gone a dull silver. Well, they'd live.

Sitting up slowly, they finally took a moment to look around. Had everyone made it in? It looked like they had, but why was Andreas-?

"F- F*ck! He got shot!?" Wow. Thank you, Captain Obvious. They sat there, completely frozen. They had absolutely no idea what to do.

 

Drake

"Wow, wow, wow!" she exclaimed. "I'm Cinderella, bitches! Hahaha!"

"Great for you," Drake said, trying to keep the venom out of his voice. It was Tristine, after all. "Meanwhile I look like Shakespeare's gay cousin." And he suddenly noticed Joe standing right next to him. "Which of course there's no problem with that... Which.. You are... Not? Not that I was implying that you're gay, umm you're queer, not the same, not that there's a problem with being gay..." Oh just shut the f*ck he told himself, feeling colour rise to his cheeks. God this was no way to getting on Tristine's good books. Or anyone for that matter.
"So," he said. "Pink dragon huh? What's that about?"

 

Alex shrugged at Samara's question. "I guess this place has really strong magic," he said, looking around at his schoolmates' wardrobe changes. "Modern things don't belong here, so the magic changes it to something that suits this world."

"Andreas?" Ms Wintersmith asked. She had just noticed the state of Andreas and she rushed forward, dragging a grumpy Vetala behind her. "Let him die," Vetala grumbled. "Only the strong survive."

And just at that moment, a short figure emerged from the woods and started walking towards them at a stride. The stranger wore a dark brown cloak and, when the wind blew it open, they could see that it had a sharp silver hook where the right hand should be. The hook was more of a sickle, like a curved blade.

"We've got company," Vetala said, tugging Ms Wintersmith's arm to make her look.

"Students, get behind me," Ms Wintersmith ordered the moment she saw the approaching threat. "Trisana, get over her right this moment." Then she held out her hand and a glowing blue ball started to form in her open palm, but the ball flickered and went out a moment later. Ms Wintersmith gasped and slumped forward, breathing hard. "I...I can do this," she panted. "I just need to focus." She held out her hand again and the ball reappeared, wobbling uncertainly.

"I can't believe this," Vetala hissed. "We're about to get attacked, and you're running low on magic. Some teacher you are."

"Shut-up, bloodsucker," Alex snapped.

Vetala did not say a word. She just smiled down at Alex and her green eyes flashed. Alex quickly looked away. "That's what I thought," the vampire purred with a sly smile.

 

Samara

Even before Miss Wintersmith's spell fizzled out, Samara had already ignored the woman's orders and stepped forward. Getting behind anyone, even her teacher, just wasn't in her nature. If she was going to wear the robes of a defender of the Old Kingdom, she had to play the part as well.

"Defensis Finalis!" she proclaimed the incantation as if demanding the universe lend her its strength. There was a flash of white light as her crystal armor appeared, but it looked different now, larger and thicker than it had been before. Wind whipped up the grass around her as the crystals formed around her body and then gently settled once the summoning was complete. The armor made her over seven feet tall and she looked big enough to tackle a rhino or wrestle a grisly bear.

She looked strong, like she was ready for anything... but the throbbing in her skull said otherwise. Don't pass out... don't pass out... Samara stared down at the little man with the hook for a hand and stood her ground and tried to look unbreakable, even though she could hear her pulse pounding in her ears.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Samara said while struggling to keep her gaze steady and fearsome, even though there were two of him and everything blurred.

 

Andreas

It was like one of those dead sleeps you go into when you're utterly exhausted. No gentle come down and a nice hot bath, just a collapse and a surrendering to oblivion. In his last conscious moments he was aware of a tingling up the side of his neck that spread across that half of his face. Somewhere between pins and needles and having your head dunked in ice. Then, after the nothing, he was somewhere else. He struggled for a moment with a decision - go back to sleep, or get up? He was lying stiffly, outdoors, on the grass. He had a hangover, and had been camping? No, that wasn't right. Maybe he'd gone on one of those really long walks into the wilderness. Peace, birdsong and voices. Voices of his classmates. Then it all came -

"OW!!" he yelped, a pain shooting through his shoulder. He squinted against the sunlight and sat slowly up. What a headache! A couple of heads had turned his way, but there was something distracting them. A short fellow in medieval getup was... wait, everyone was in medieval getup! How had they had time to dress up before going into the Old Kingdom?

The gravity of that realization fell on him. They were in the Old Kingdom. No sooner had that hit him, than he saw that he, too, was in different clothes. A dark brown leather skirt draped itself over his knees, thin strips of steel running down its length. Thick, sturdy soles clashed with soft and flexible uppers on his just-above-the-ankle boots. On his torso, a dark brown and thin tunic was decorated with intricate swirls of silver. A deep, forest green faded into existence around its borders. And over it all, a bandage made of plain cloth cradled his wounded arm against his chest. Oddly, the bandage was clean. Was he not bleeding? More importantly, why had they all decided to undress him in his sleep? What the hell was this? It was a question he decided to withhold until the situation at hand (whatever that was) started to make some sort of sense.

 

Trisana

"Trisana, get over here right this moment."

Trisana was still running around the field when she heard Ms Wintersmith. She started to giggle because their teacher sounded just like her mother; she was always telling Trisana to stop dancing in public or stop jumping in water fountains. But Trisana's giggle died on her lips when she saw the short, menacing figure coming towards them.

"Oh, crap!" Trisana turned and ran back towards the rest of their group. "Crap, crap, crap!" She ducked and swerved as she ran, thinking "serpentine" to herself. Game of Thrones was her favorite show and she did not want to get shot in the back like that one kid.

As an extra precaution, she threw a rainbow over her shoulder at the hook-handed stranger, hoping that would at least distract him. "Rainbow, go!" she shouted, even though it wasn't neccessary.

 

Drake

"So are we just gonna assume every vampire, soldier or creepy guy with a hook is out there to kill us?" Drake asked. He prepared his teleportation spell, in any case.

 

The short figure stopped in his tracks when Samara grew taller and her armor transformed. "Like the knights of old," it said in a husky male voice. Before he could answer her questions, Trisana started yelling and running away and his hood turned in her direction. When she threw a rainbow at him, he calmly raised his hook and the multicolored arch split down the middle before dissipating.

Ms Wintersmith made a sound of surprise. "There's only one person I know with a magic hook," she said, taking a hesitant step forward. "Mortimer? Could it be?"

"Ilianora? I was just coming to get you!" The stranger pulled back his hood to reveal a deeply lined, sun-browned face with a pitch-black beard. He waddled forward (now that he was closer, they could see that he walked with a limp), and Ms Wintersmith ran into his arms. "Hey, a little warning next time!" Vetala cried out as she was draged along.

"Why is this foul creature attached to you, Nora?" Mortimer asked, frowning.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Vetala growled darkly.

"We're going to destroy her," Ms Wintersmith explained, ignoring the vampire. "My students detained her on the other side of the Wall. I don't know how she got through, or why the Gate was standing wide open..."

"Darkness is rising," Mortimer interrupted in a grave tone. "Dark creatures all across the Old Kingdom are growing stronger and bolder. That's why I was coming for you, I'm getting the old gang back together: you, Scathach, and Fenn. We need to find Darkness Incarnate and banish it...before all is lost."

Ms Wintersmith exhaled. "Wow. I didn't think Darkness would return in my lifetime. I had hoped it was banished for good the last time it emerged." She turned to her students and cleared her throat. "Class, this is Mortimer Hookhand, my old friend. We were in a magical crimefighting group called the Lightbringers when we were younger, before we disbanded."

"Why did you disband?" Alex asked bluntly.

Ms Wintersmith and Mortimer glanced at each other and looked quickly away, color rising to their faces. "For reasons," Mortimer grumbled, picking imaginary lint off of his sleeve.

"What he said," Ms Wintersmith muttered, her cheeks burning.