Seeking the Veil, Part 2

On Edge

A white bison tossed its head, froth flecking its lips as it trampled near the ravine, side smoking, flesh glowing with fire. Rock crumbled and the beast that was more gray than white tumbled into open air and was gone.

Power fled from Gunter's eyes, his hand dropping from his chest. Hestea spun around, the Band was scattered far and long, the ravine yawning wide and hungry beside. Wind blew up, brushing at Hestea's cheeks, and he swallowed as he stepped back. "Gunter! We have to find the—"

Hestea froze, grabbed his hammer instead and lunged to the side as a Saeordin soldier, ran at them. A dagger flipped through the air, catching Gunter in the ribs.

The magus stumbled back toward the ravine, his mouth dropping open in shock.

Hestea reached out, but Gunter's balance was gone. One trembling hand touched the hilt, then he staggered, too close to the edge. Open air blew at his back, he shifted forward, but one boot slid back. He lurched, trying to find purchase, pebbles breaking off, tumbling behind. He scrambled, then Gunter dropped to his hands as one foot, then the next slipped off the edge. He fell, hands grasping at rock and grass and dirt.

"Hold on!" Hestea leapt forward, forgetting the Saeordin at his back as he dove to the ground, reaching out. Gunter's head disappeared and only his hands were left, grasping and clinging and finding nothing. More rock disintegrated, crumbling and the hands slid away.

Hestea skid on the ground, teeth clenched, arm outstretched as he hit the lip. Gunter's eyes were wide, his arms flailing, mouth strangely relaxed. An amulet of bright copper in the cloudy light slipped free from his collar, floating in the air. Hestea's palm slapped the chain as his hand closed on Gunter's arm, chain and flesh held tight. Pulling his neck up, Hestea braced as the force of Gunter's fall struck him like a wall of bricks; ripping at his arm, striking him on the chest, shattering more rock, and then he went still.

"Hah!" Hestea shouted and Gunter stared at him, suspended, boots planted on a rock wall that descended far below. "I got you!"

But Gunter did not smile, fear covered his face and his eyes twitched, looking above Hestea and then back at the amulet.

"What?" Then Hestea felt the shadow, knew the Saeordin was there with them and a chill ran through. His hammer was held tight in one hand, pushing against the cliff's edge, but he was in no position to swing it. "Blast him!"

"I can't!"

Sweat formed and Gunter slid, his own hand twisting and grasping Hestea's forearm in turn. "What do you mean, you can't!" Hestea shifted on the ground, twisting his neck and kicking at the Saeordin.

"It doesn't work that way!"

Then it all came together. The apathy before the battle, the frustration after. Like a runner suddenly stumbling as he walked, his legs no longer working the way he had always supposed they should. "You have a bloody handicap!"

"Yes!" Shouted Gunter in reply, his eyes burning with rage and humiliation but only with the slightest glow of Quan light. The color of his irises offended Hestea as his back stood bare and exposed. A crutch, an inability to draw Quan without some external device, it was an insult few spoke at the Academy. It was an insult some had died over. Crutch: a word that had brought magi to blows. Gunter could not draw Quan direct, could not wield the power of the ether — not without some bauble or trinket. And the weakness that he had never trained out of, had never mastered...

This weakness had left him vulnerable and weak.

Hestea strained, trying to pull the magus up with one hand, but then he had to roll to the side, a Saeordin blade striking the ground. He rolled back, kicking the black soldier. "This is your crutch! Isn't it?" Hestea shook his hand holding Gunter's arm and the chain of the medallion pinned to Gunter's flesh.

"Yes!"

"Then use it!" 

"It doesn't work that way!"

Gunter's arm slipped an inch and Hestea heard the soldier's boots. Hestea gripped Gunter's arm hard, twisted, brought his hammer around in a wild arc, the Saeordin blade ringing as it was deflected. Hestea's shoulder screamed at the angle, Gunter dangling behind him, the back of Hestea's head over the yawning space of the ravine. "It's your focus, right! That's what it is?"

"Yes!"

"Then focus already!"

Hestea released his hammer, grabbed some dirt and pebbles and flung them through the air. The enemy grabbed at his eyes.

Hestea rolled back, stared Gunter in the face, his arm burning. "Can you climb?" Then he found a rock with his other hand, twisted back, lobbing it into the Saeordin's head with a satisfying thump.

"I can't!"

Hestea grunted. "Lot of good you turned out to be!"

"Shut up and hand me the medallion."

"Right. Just hand it, you say."

Then the Saeordin moved in, Hestea shuffled his legs over, grabbing his hammer, but he was too slow. Fire sliced down his leg and Hestea howled. Gunter slid another inch. Hestea squeezed his hammer, tears in his eyes as he swung it, cracking it along the soldier's arm and lashed out with a foot. The soldier went stumbling and his blade clattered to the ground.

"I'm going to switch hands. Grab the amulet!"

"What!"

"I said grab the amulet!"

Hestea dropped his hammer to the side, the soldier scrambling to his feet as he reached for his fallen sword. Hestea leaned back over, snatching the magi's right hand, clasping it even as he released the other. The amulet chain dropped free, Gunter's hand tight on the talisman. Hestea twisted his right arm behind him, snagging the hammer, swinging it with a roar at the Saeordin lunging near. Blade and hammer clanged, sparks flew and a chip of metal flew free. Hestea smacked the rock of the edge, hammer striking the ground. He released it as the magus' eyes flared bright, settling the chain over his head.

"Do it!" Then Hestea grabbed the magus with both hands, feeling his own feet slide, chest slipping further into the abyss, rock and dirt tumbling away. Hestea bunched his shoulders, neck cording as he yelled, yanking with all his might. The magus flew up, as if in flight and Hestea twisted, heaving, hauling him over the edge with a grunt. Hestea tried to brace himself against the roll with his leg, but the wound made him flinch, momentum carried him in a circle, loose dirt like a slide, then his left leg found open air. Hestea's hammer rolled with him, toppling over the edge. Hestea grasped at rocks, fingers tearing at dirt, grass ripping free as his right foot followed, then his leg. He twisted, trying to grab something, but his waist was past, the rough edge biting into his stomach. Hestea pulled and scraped, slapping the ground, feet running at the wall.

Light exploded above as the enemy was struck with something loud and blinding. Hestea glanced to the side, his hammer turning as it fell. Ulyn. The magus turned back, fright on his face.

A breath of wind whipped at Hestea, as if seeking to pull him up, then fading away. The hammer fell past, the rocky ledge crumbled, dirt falling and Hestea lost his hold.

"Noooo!"

Wind rushed by, the magus became small, the sky massive and then: suddenly - everything - stopped.

And the sky went black.