The Astralaceaes

Chapter 43: Fight and Flight

Haledon's heart raced, and his breath quickened as he watched the approaching beasts.

Instinct took over as he muttered in Druidic and slammed his hands to the ground, sending a mossy wave toward the Mecharrion. The rock appeared to crumble as the stone became a thick mat that raced toward the spindly legs of the beasts. Both Mecharrion screeched as the moss climbed their limbs and began to cover their bodies.

In the chaos, Haledon and Gazeas rushed away from the giants. They observed as the moss finally overwhelmed the bodies and trapped them in a dense, unmoving mat.

"Did that...work?" Haledon muttered to himself as he looked at Gazeas.

Opening her mouth to speak, Gazeas was interrupted by a shrill Mecharrion cry that pierced Haledon's ears. The sound caused both him and Gazeas to take another retreating step as they stared at the Mecharrion in horror. The moss quickly withered, and a noxious gas sprayed toward the two Druids.

"Haledon!" Gazeas yelled, tackling him to the floor.

The cloud overwhelmed Haledon and Gazeas, and they both began to cough. As the cloud bypassed Haledon's SOIL, it burned his skin in a painfully familiar sensation. Like with the Mechanite, the vapour was digging deeper into his body. Around the Druids, vines began to coil to conceal them as the cloud's painful burn disappeared. A numbness overtook Haledon's body, and he found himself paralyzed.

Attempting to open his mouth to speak, Haledon's lips remained frozen. Trying to move his head, he discovered he was trapped where he was planted. And beyond Gazeas' helmet, Haledon could see with his locked gaze the approaching figures of the two Mecharrion.

Now no longer exposed to biocide, roots and vines raced to cover the weakened SOILs in a protective burl. Roots lashed over the growing mound, quickly blotting out the dim light of the Hilum. The last thing Haledon saw before the thick vines concealed his vision was one of the long arms of the beast slowly melting into the form of a forked Mecharrion gun.

Tensing his body, Haledon prepared for an impact that never came. Frozen in place for what felt like an eternity, he listened to Mecharrion screeches met by an equally spine-chilling but familiar cry.

A thunderous crack echoed through the room as the Mecharrion discharged its gun. But the shot failed to impact the burl, and Haledon felt his body relax.

"Gah," He huffed and coughed, catching his breath with an exaggerated gulp. "Gazeas."

Gazeas laughed softly to herself. Her laughs became intermixed with sobs.

"Are you okay?"

"It worked." She cried. "Phytotransformation works against Mecharrion—"

A second thunderous crack echoed, and Haledon felt a heavy force hit him from the front as he and Gazeas were shot through their burl. Hitting the wall, his head cracked against the thick vines, and his world flashed white.

Dazed, the confused Haledon looked down at Gazeas's limp body in his lap and the melon-sized scorch mark against the back of her SOIL.

"Gaz? Gazeas!" He cried out, grabbing her body and looking up for his Guild. "Witch-Hazel!"

Across the room, he watched the two Mecharrion attempting to regain their footing as a pair of tar-soaked wendigos hacked away at their silver bodies.

"Haledon," He heard the voice of Witch-Hazel whisper into his mind. "Back to the wall."

Haledon obeyed. Sliding himself back against the Hilum foliage, he clutched Gazeas's SOIL. Unable to turn away, he anxiously watched the fight between the Mecharrion and Wendigos. The Wendigos cut into the metal with heavy swings, leaving putrid scars and ripping metallic fluid onto the stone dais. Shrill, metallic cries echoed with each swipe as the putrid tar soaked into the Mecharrion, painting permanent scars across the surface.