Durandiel tapped her staff lightly on empty space, and everything rippled.
The workings vanished, and the Fox struck.
Blood sprayed across many realities.
The Mad King kept his gaze focused on Makiel, and now the Vroshir held his sword in one hand and the Scythe in the other. His voice was a spear penetrating the Way.
“You make quite a show with the heavens to shield you.”
The Judges looked down on the Mad King, and their wills were as one. Together, they slipped into reality.
Iteration 119: Fathom
A moment before, this world had trembled under the power of the Mad King.
A soldier arrived with his purple-veined sword, and Fate returned to its proper course. Makiel, the Hound.
A guardian appeared, steadied behind his shield, and the surviving mortal population shook with relief as they sensed they were protected. Gadrael, the Titan.
A gentleman stepped out, cane tapping at every step, and the shroud of chaos retreated, restoring the definition of order. Telariel, the Spider.
A woman drifted in, gray dress and black hair blowing like smoke, and perhaps she had always been there. Something shifted in the inner machinery of the world, but none in Iteration One-one-nine knew exactly what. Durandiel, the Ghost.
A warrior strode forward, ready for combat with sword blazing as bright as her hair, and all existence shone more brightly. Razael, the Wolf.
A healer descended on light like blue wings, and all over this reality, wounds knitted back together and fortress walls reassembled themselves. Suriel, the Phoenix.
A predator slunk behind the other six, and she tossed the still-bleeding head of a Silverlord behind her as Void portals closed and space stilled all throughout Fathom. Zakariel, the Fox.
For the first time in centuries, the Court of Seven manifested together, and the world was healed.
One by one, they met the burning red eyes of the Mad King. He hovered between them and the central planet of the Iteration, stained bone sword in one hand and dark Scythe in the other. His helmet of yellowed bone kept his face in a shadow impenetrable even to their light, and a mantle of hide ran from his shoulders to match their mantles of white flame.
He took not a step back, and his will was firm. He raised his sword to his face in a salute.
“Your courage does you credit,” the fallen hero said to the entire Abidan Court.
From the darkness between the stars of Fathom, Fiends slithered forward. Blue flashes appeared in the darkness all over as Silverlords pressed against the outside of the world. They couldn’t enter, with the Fox and the Titan both inside, but still they remained on the border. Waiting.
A host of their kind were inside already. Silverlords floated up behind the Mad King, outnumbering the seven Judges many times over.
Makiel looked over them coldly. “Surrender.”
Some Silverlords, those who had served a term in Haven before, shivered. Their wills shook. Even many of the Fiends cringed back like dogs remembering a whip.
But the Mad King did not tremble. “I sought to strike you a blow. Never did I imagine that I could topple the pillars of Heaven,” the Scythe ignited in raging darkness, “with my own hands.”
In a world called Fathom, between the Way and the Void, war erupted.
15
Ziel spoke through gritted teeth. “Why is there a Monarch down here?”
“Same reason we are,” Yerin said grimly.
“I know why. That question was for the heavens.”
Lindon wrenched open the Dawn Sky Palace. “Orthos. Blue.”
Little Blue whistled nervously and clung to Orthos’ back. The turtle glared up at Lindon. “If we can fight against the Titan, we can…”
He hesitated. Lindon checked the performance of his right arm while waiting for Orthos to come to the right conclusion.
“…be safe,” Orthos grumbled. He carried Blue inside.
Before Lindon let the portal close, he looked to Mercy. She was limbering up her shoulders and wheeling her staff around.
She gave him a forced smile. “Don’t worry! He’s weaker, I can feel it! My mother would squish him with one thumb if she were here.”
Lindon turned to Ziel. “How about you? Can you keep up?”
“No,” Ziel said. He hefted his hammer. “But I won’t get in the way.”
That was good enough for Lindon. He let the Dawn Sky Palace close and opened his other key. Not only could he feel the strain this time, but he could feel the invisible mechanisms of authority inside the key stretching and warping.
If he did this too many more times, he was going to break it.
Yerin had reached into her own key and withdrawn her Heart’s Gem. She rolled the ruby of congealed blood onto the floor, where it began exuding billowing clouds of blood aura.