Four Horsemen Book 5 - Old Histories: Chapter 12

Petor descended the stone stairs, boots crunching on shattered vault door fragments. The air grew heavier with each step, thick with the acrid scent of old air and melted stone.

The vault stretched out before them, row upon row of stone chests filling the massive chamber. Golden letters adorned each chest, names of the fallen glowing with stored power. But down the central aisle, broken chests lined the path, their contents violated. Wisps of ethereal mist rose from the shattered remains, the last traces of souls too weak to resist their fate. Their fading cries sent chills down Petor's spine - final echoes of warriors reduced to mere whispers.

"Bastard," Mya snarled. She sprinted down the aisle, the Drowned Captain's Requiem snapping to her shoulder. Thunder cracked through the vault as she fired. Petor followed her line of sight, down the racks to an open space where Kalvor kneeled, praying, around him lines carved into the stone, glowing with power.

Mya shots splashed harmlessly against a barrier surrounding him and his ritual.

Petor and the others exited the racks into the central domed chamber, the ceiling dictating fair judgement for one's deeds being given peace or pain in payment.

The horsemen emerged from the racks into a vast domed chamber. Desari's bow sang, elemental arrows streaking through the air. Beside her, Valter conjured waves of searing heat that distorted the air. Petor added his own power, arcane energy exploding against the barrier while  he also threw out galeseed flowers that quickly grew and unleashed their deadly projectiles.

But the barrier held firm against their assault. At the chamber's heart, Kalvor's massive frame stood bathed in otherworldly light. Arcane symbols carved into the floor pulsed the ritual complete.

"Take these souls my lord Akem, make them your own so that they might now your peace!" Kalvor yelled.

The wind grew agitated, drawn to the ritual, an unnatural pull gripped onto Petor's soul. 

Tendrils of light reached out like hungry fingers, latching onto more soul chests. 

The golden names flickered and then went dark—the chest cracking and turning to dust. 

Petor staggered as the first wave of screams hit him. The souls' agony pierced through his mind like white-hot needles.

The vortex expanded, drawing more souls inward. Their voices merged into a deafening chorus that threatened to drive him to his knees.

Kalvor's massive frame stood silhouetted against the swirling maelstrom, arms spread wide in twisted reverence. "Look upon their salvation. Witness the divine power you've denied them for so long."

The vortex expanded upward with terrifying force, blasting through the dome. Morning sunlight poured through the breach, casting harsh shadows across the scene of desecration below.

The air crackled with holy energy as more souls were torn from their resting places. Petor's stomach churned at the wrongness of it all. This wasn't natural death - this was violation on a cosmic scale.

"He's summoned his god here, to break the wards and consume the souls, we need to break the connection and redirect the ritual to bring those souls back to us!" Mya's voice cut through the cacophony. She yanked a metal plate from her bracer, replacing it with practiced efficiency.

"Akem will give justice to your foul brood!" Kalvor's bellow echoed off the vault walls, distorted by the swirling energies.

Through the haze of pain and power, Petor watched as Mya pulled out a small pouch. She pressed its contents against her bracer. The pouch and its contents ignited the ritual plate glowing with power.

"Desari, Valter, you take on Kalvor, pin him down. Petor, I'm going to need power, just like back in Sorelli-disrupt the flow of the god's power, leech the fuck out of him."

Petor grimaced, remembering that feeling of power coursing through him—terrible and sweet.

"Got it," Petor nodded.

"Alright." Mya slammed her hand into the barrier.

The ritual circle on Mya's arm glowed dark energy spread like cracks through glass, eating away at the protective field. Kalvor's eyes widened as his sanctuary began to fail.

"No! What are you doing? Do you not see the folly of your ways!" Kalvor shook his hammer and shield.

The barrier shattered, Desari's arrows cut through where they had been. Kalvor bellowed, his shield smashing them away as he sprinted at Mya.

"Fuck off." Mya dropped a cannon beside herself. Kalvor's snarl turned into one of shock as Mya fired, the boom echoed through the vault as the cannon kicked back violently. Its shot left a path of light as it hit Kalvor.

Kalvor managed to get his shield up, but the force still sent him flying through one of the soul chest racks. The rack's stone cracked as his armored form carved a path of destruction. The soul chests tumbled around him, burning from being in close contact with him.

"Now!" Mya's command cut through the chaos.

Petor sprinted alongside her toward the swirling vortex of divine energy. Behind them, Desari's bow sang a deadly song. Arrows of elemental energies streaked through the air, forcing Kalvor to stay behind his shield as he got to his feet. Valter and his armors animated armors converged on the champion's position.

Kalvor threw off the remains of the rack and ran back towards the ritual, to be stalled by Valter and his armors working in tandem.

"Get out of my way!"

The ritual site pulsed with raw power as Petor approached.

Each step heavier than the last as divine energy pressed against him like a physical wall. With a grunt of effort, he drove the spearhead deep into the vortex.

Raw power slammed through him. His muscles locked, teeth clenching as divine energy coursed up the spear and into his body. It burned like liquid fire in his veins, holy essence fighting against his attempt to contain it. Every instinct screamed at him to let go, to break contact before it tore him apart from the inside.

"You're not keeping them." The words came out as barely more than a whisper through clenched teeth. "Not these souls. Not today."

He spread the power to the other horsemen and drank deep. He could feel the confusion, the annoyance—the rage of Kalvor's god as he drank from their power, their pull on the souls slowing to a standstill.

The strain was immense. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fought to maintain control. But slowly, steadily, the blazing runes beneath his feet began to dim.

Petor watched through pain-hazed eyes as Desari nocked multiple arrows simultaneously, each shaft humming with different elemental energies. Her fingers released in one fluid motion, sending the arrows screaming through the air. They left trails of light in their wake - some blazing orange with contained infernos, others crackling with lightning or trailing crystalline frost.

Kalvor roared a challenge, his massive war hammer becoming a blur as he swung it in wide defensive arcs. The weapon's head shattered several arrows, sending fragments of elemental energy spraying in all directions. But even his supernatural speed couldn't intercept them all. Three arrows found their mark - one of fire that exploded against his shoulder, another of ice that froze his leg armor solid, and a third crackling with lightning that sent sparks cascading across his chest plate. The divine energy radiating from his armor flickered where the arrows struck, protecting him.

Valter's blade cut a ribbon of light across Kalvor's side as his enchantments dispersed the attack's foce.

Kalvor's hammer came down in a devastating overhead strike, meeting Valter's raised shield.

The impact sent a visible shockwave rippling through the air. The stone floor beneath them cratered and split, chunks of rock exploding upward from the point of contact.

Desari's aimed for knee joints, shoulder plates, anywhere Kalvor's armor showed even the slightest weakness. He worked to alter his position, though Valter and his armors pinned him in—Kalvor's frustration growing.

Mya  moved to another set of runes on the ground and altered them, her face a mask of concentration.

Valter stood as an immovable wall against Kalvor's onslaught. His thermal blade met the champion's war hammer in explosions of competing energy that made Petor's teeth rattle. The ground beneath their feet cracked and splintered with each thunderous impact.

Even with the power spreading through them from Petor they were lagging—tired from the hours of fighting.

"Die, heretic!" Kalvor's hammer crashed down where Valter had been a heartbeat before. The strike pulverized three rows of soul chests, their precious contents drawn screaming into the writhing vortex overhead. Ancient stone shattered like glass, precious names carved over centuries obliterated in an instant.

Valter's counterattack forced Kalvor back, but the champion's wild swing went wide, carving through a support pillar. Chunks of ceiling rained down as the vault's structural integrity began to fail. Deep fissures spread across the floor in jagged patterns, pulsing with the same sickly light as the ritual circle.

Petor called on his plants, they raced up the columns, reinforcing them.

"Ella," Mya called out, her voice carrying power. "I offer the power of Akem and take back the souls of those that one day would come into your judgement."

The vortex above reversed direction, soul fire climbed upward through. The massive column of energy inverted, reversing its flow. Where before it had drawn souls up, now it rained them back down.

Souls cascaded through the vault like burning rain, each finding its way to an soul chest. New names blazed to life on the stone surfaces, golden script etching itself into existence. The air filled with ethereal laughter as the spirits returned to their rest.

Through the spear, Petor felt the god's rage transform into something else entirely. Panic. Uncertainty. The divine being thrashed against the connection, trying to break free, but Petor held firm. A laugh bubbled up from his chest despite the strain.

"Not so mighty now, are you?" Petor whispered, drinking deeper from the connection. The god's power flowed through him like a river diverted from its course, feeding into Mya's ritual instead of consuming the souls it had meant to devour. 

The feeling was intoxicating - like holding a leviathan on a fishing line, feeling it thrash and struggle as its strength was slowly sapped away. The more the god fought, the more power Petor was able to draw, redirecting it to fuel the return of the souls and to the other horsemen.

Time was lost to Petor's senses as he heard Kalvor fighting on.

A bellow of rage snapped his attention to Kalvor. The champion's armor blazed with holy light, his massive frame seeming to grow as divine power poured into him. Kalvor broke away from Valter's armors, taking severe injuries for doing so. Desari's arrows glanced off his shoulder plates as he charged forward.

"For Akem!"

Petor tried to redirect power to defend himself, but he couldn't break his connection to the ritual without losing their advantage. The champion crossed the distance in a single bound.

Through the haze of divine energy, Petor watched as Mya smoothly brought the Drowned Captain's Requiem to her shoulder. The rifle cracked, the ethereal bullet striking Kalvor in the knee. His enchanted barrier didn't flare anymore—his armor was scarred and marked with battle. He crashed to the ground, grunting against the pain.

Kalvor struggled to rise, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. Before he could regain his footing, Mya's second shot punched through his throat. His war hammer slipped from nerveless fingers, clattering against the stone floor as the holy light in his eyes began to dim.

A choking noise coming from him as he dropped to one knee. Blood dripped steadily from beneath his helmet, each labored breath bringing fresh rivulets.

"You think... this changes anything?" The words came out wet and broken, bubbling around the wound in his throat. "Akem's will cannot be denied..."

Mya stepped forward, her boots clicking against stone. Her cutlass rasped free of its scabbard, the blade gleaming with captured soul-fire.

"You will all die today." Kalvor started laughing—a terrible and broken thing.

"Tell Ella I said hello."

Fear etched itself on Kalvor's features.

Mya swung her cutlass as Kalvor tried to counterattack, Kalvor's head separated cleanly from his shoulders, his body collapsing into the floor.

Petor watched Mya lower her cutlass, her shoulders dropping as tension bled from her frame. The weight of combat hung heavy in the air, mixing with stone dust and the metallic tang of blood.

"Well that's over," Valter said, his voice rough with exhaustion. "For now."

"Still got my spear in this god vortex," Petor grunted through clenched teeth. His arms trembled from maintaining the connection. "Though it feels like Akem's weakening."

The sensation hit without warning - Akem's presence diminishing, divine power trickling away like water down a drain. Petor gasped as the connection snapped, he stumbled backward. His lungs burned as he dragged in ragged breaths.

Sunlight pierced the gloom as the oppressive darkness dissipated. His vines and roots creaked, holding together the fractured ceiling. All around lay evidence of their battle - shattered stone chests, cracked floors, and the quiet hum of reclaimed souls settling back into their resting places.

Eessence flooded Petor's body, raw creation and destruction burning through his veins. The power threatened to tear him apart even as it knitted him back together. He dropped to a knee, releasing his spear that clattered on the ground. 

More blue mixed into his green core.

Mya and Desari's cultivation surged—going up another stage, with their green cores now mixed with blue.

As the rush of essence calmed, Petor found his voice. "I think..." he paused, barely believing the words himself. "I think we might have killed our first god."

Silence fell in the chamber. Sunlight streamed through the hole in the domed ceiling above, morning beams cutting through settling dust to illuminate their handiwork. The soul chests hummed quietly, their energy stabilizing in the aftermath of the failed ritual.

Petor watched Mya stand, her boots crunching on shattered stone. Debris scattered beneath each step as she surveyed the carnage around them. Broken soul chests littered the ground, their contents now safely returned but their vessels destroyed. The vault's walls bore deep scars from the battle, and his vines strained to hold the damaged structure together.

"This wasn't the real fight," Mya said, her voice low but steady. She knelt beside Kalvor's corpse, studying the fallen champion's armor. Her fingers traced the intricate divine runes etched into the metal. "This was just a raid."

The words settled heavily in Petor's chest. His muscles still burned from channeling the divine energy, and exhaustion pulled at his limbs. He leaned on his spear, feeling the residual power thrumming through it.

He stood up, the others doing the same. Mya stored Kalvor's body and pocketed his storage devices.

Mya rose, turning to face them. Blood and grime streaked her armor, and her eyes held a hardness that made Petor's spine straighten. She looked at each of them in turn - Desari with her bow still at the ready, Valter amid his battle-scarred constructs, and finally Petor himself.

"The gods sent one of their own to test us—and we killed him," she said, her expression grim but resolute. "They won't take that lightly."

The silence was punctuated by the distant cannon-fire. Sunlight continued to stream through the damaged ceiling, catching motes of dust that drifted through the air.