2 Years Ago

38 Years Before the Fall of Hybra

“Hold, girl,” Balthasar placed his hand on my shoulder, dagger clenched within his other hand as we peered through the clearing. Beyond the line of trees the, ruins of a stone building jutted from the overgrown grass, a simple wall, worn down by time with a rectangular window peering into a structure that was no longer there. Above us, dim sun shafts penetrated the tree canopy, providing a dull, silver light by which to see. Brighter in some spots than others, the stones of the ruin reacted brilliantly, some radiating the muted sunlight in an almost blinding fashion. I tilted my head, my ears taking inventory of the soft wind as it worked its way through the thick wood and the sound of insects chirping off in the distance. 

The trees here were tight around us, inhibiting our movement in an almost uncomfortable manner. I looked to Balthasar, his scarred countenance peered back to me as he raised a finger to his lips and then pointed past the ruin. I peered through a gap in the decaying wall and and bit my lip as I caught sight of brown fur peeking from behind a bush some twenty yards away. It was there, waiting for us, if it even knew that we were here. I looked to Balthasar again, who motioned for me to make my way around the side of the structure. I nodded and made my way, hands out to clear the brush as I crouched low to the ground. It seemed unreal to me that the thing couldn’t even see me. Surely it could; there was no way I was that stealthy. 

I watched Balthasar cross to the other side of the ruin with practiced precision, each footstep executed quickly while carefully contemplated. It came into view; the bear was massive to say the least. Thick, razor sharp claws extended from a paw that was three times the size of my chest and resting just beside a tree mere yards away from the spot where I crouched. Was it asleep? I couldn’t tell. Its massive head lay against the ground, turned away from me; if its eyes were open then they were aimed in Balthasar’s direction, not mine. I could imagine those eyes, yellow and glowing with black vertical slits from top to bottom. I could smell its breath; I could feel that gigantic chest moving up and down, displacing the tall grass around it as it breathed the infernal air of Liminality. Did I feel fear? I couldn’t tell; it was difficult to die in Liminality but everyone knew it wasn’t impossible. A foot-long claw to my chest would probably do the trick or at least come close. As Balthasar crept around, dagger in hand, I thought back on the people I had seen die here in Liminality during the past twelve years. Surprisingly, they had all been taken during the nightly raids, and many of them had gone willingly. I guess that at some point, there’s just no motivation to go on. 

I flicked my eyes up, seeing Balthasar still crouched on the other side of the clearing; he nodded to me and I returned the nod. Slowly, I reached my hand out and concentrated; though my palm was in the air I could suddenly feel the prickling of the grass on my fingertips, the sensation of soil against my palms. I concentrated harder, feeling the composition and texture of the dirt surrounding the bear, and in my mind I visualized it at the base level. It began to change according to my will, and then, dirt solidified, changing into obsidian vines that crept up past the surface of the dirt, criss crossing, braiding, twisting, weaving until they reached the height of the beast. Quietly, I allowed them to rise up, forming a dome over top of the sleeping beast, and as the vines came together, I gave a quick flick of my wrist. Even as I did so, I could hear the boy’s voice at the back of my mind.

“Motions like this are unnecessary” He would have said. “You must simply feel it.”

Feel it. Feel it. Bullshit.

At the flick of my wrist, the vines twirled in the air, wrapping around themselves and pulling tight as they plummeted toward the ground, slamming into the beast’s back as they imprisoned him, inhibiting his movement; he let out a primal roar that shook the ground and pushed me back into the forest. I covered my ears and fell backward, unprepared for the blast of sonic energy that would be emitted from the enormous muzzle. Balthasar was better prepared; he leaped forward, dagger in hand, slamming it into the base of the spine. He must have missed, because the bear immediately began to writhe within the vine prison that I had summoned. I could hear the wood cracking, splinters flying, a rustle of fur and anger as it roared and tore through the vines, standing upright as Balthasar tumbled to the ground, barely managing to land on his feet. The thing towered above me, three stories tall and full of rage as it glared down with its yellow, glowing eyes. A paw the size of a small car flew back and then plummeted toward me, splintering trees as I froze in place, my feet planted to the ground. 

Dammit Balthasar, you were supposed to kill it!

But he hadn’t. I saw him running from the beast, making an arc, and then taking another run as the paw continued its diagonal descent toward me. I broke my panic long enough to manifest another set of black fines to my left; they tore through the ground, forming a partial dome around me; the claw slammed against them, splintering them into a million pieces but giving me the few second’s delay I needed to roll out of the way; my hand scraped against the point of a sharp rock and pain shot through me as the cut opened and closed within seconds. As I rolled, I called up another wall of vines, blocking yet another paw swipe as the world spun around me. Up became down, down became up, my side screamed in pain as I slammed into a tree trying to regain my feet.

“Balthasar!” I screamed at the top of my lungs; it was more of a curse than anything else. I scrambled to my feet just in time to see the thing’s crotch towering over me. “oh look, bear penis.”

I stumbled backward, tripping, and falling down a steep incline. My back hit the dirt first and I felt my head smash against a log embedded in the side of the hill; pain seared and then subsided as I careened downward, flipping, rolling, floating, flying, the world a mish mash of gray sky, brown dirt, the occasional gray rock, and the primal roar of one pissed off bear as it raced toward me. 

Could I die like this? I didn’t know, but even if my wounds healed quickly, decomposing in the stomach of a giant pissed off bear for all eternity couldn’t be good for the psyche. I summoned another set of vines, creating a barrier between myself and the bear as it took another swipe at me; it tore through them like paper. I was getting weaker; my first set of vines had been the strongest but as exhaustion took me, my abilities began to wane. They were considerably better than they were two years ago but I could only do so much in so little time. What could I do? I thought hard as the end of the hill came near. As I slammed into the ground and rolled off the bank of a shallow stream, I waved my bloodied hand and summoned vines; they rose from the ground, but manifested in two different colors; deep obsidian black and dark red, sprouting leaves and branches, many of the growths forming in the shape of tree trunks. The bear slammed against the wall; it shook but didn’t splinter. I heard Balthasar give a primal scream of his own as he went at the thing’s belly with his knife. The bear roared in pain, it’s head poking up over the wall and taking a swipe at me as blood sprayed from its jowls and showered me. 

“Oh screw this!” I screamed as I rose from the creek bed and outstretched my hand. In a single motion, I called forth a twisting braid of vines that shot up from beneath the bear, piercing its stomach as it rose toward the sky. The bear went with it, higher and higher until the vines reached their apex, standing still with one very dead bear impaled near the top of a forty foot braid of vines and leaves. Blood rained from the carcass, covering Balthasar in a hail of innards and bodily fluids as it slipped and slid down the vine, crashing to the ground and sending a tremor though the soil I stood on. I fell backward, into the creek. “Balthasar, what the hell?!”

“Sorry,” He called out from behind the wall of vines. “It was a tough one, wasn’t it?”

Eyes wide, I looked toward the sky at the twisting braid of vines I’d created; two feet in diameter and soaked with blood. If I hadn’t been breathless and soaked, it might have even been funny.

“Holy shitballs,” I said, dusting myself up as I rose from the creek. Physically I was fine, emotionally I was a wreck. If I had any adrenaline in my Liminal body it was coursing through my veins like soda through a gamer. I made my way forward, trekking through the tall grass and avoiding holes as I stepped around the vine wall. I saw the carcass wrapped about the tree, and Balthasar wiping the blood from his knife with a homemade cloth. 

“I will return to the village,” He told me. “We will need several to carry this back. Aye, it should feed us for months.”

“Fine,” I said breathlessly. “I’m going to stay here for a while. Leave me to die, seems to be what you do.”

“Don’t be this way, girl, you know I did my best.”

“Ever consider your best isn’t good enough, old man?”

“Aye, well, at the very least, I’m not as bad a hunter as Micah.”

I snickered, he followed, and then we both burst into laughter at the very thought of Micah trying to hunt. 

“I’d rather not even think about it,” I laughed. “Did you see him try to cook that fish?”

“Aye,” Balthasar laugh. “a fish bursting into flame is a new sight indeed.”

“Well,” I laughed. “The next time we hunt bear, we can bring him along to toss fish at the thing. Imagine, fish grenades!”

Balthasar snorted, I dropped to the ground laughing. 

“Fish grenades!” I shouted to no one in particular. 

“Aye girl, I’ll bring it up to him, if I can ever get him to stop sulking. In the meantime, off I go to fetch some people, and some carts.”

“Yes, yes, you do that,” I laughed, laying back and staring at the sky. “I’m just going to stay here for a bit.”

Balthasar walked away, leaving me to lay on the grass, next to the carcass as I stared at the clouds. I closed my eyes, trying to drift off to sleep when I heard his voice. 

“I will never understand,” The boy said. “Why you insist on using your abilities to kill my creations.”

“We have to eat,” I said lazily, keeping my eyes closed.

“There are fruits, and plants, all of which are adequate. Why bear? Why deer? Why rukon?”

“Have you ever had rukon?” I asked him.

“No,” He admitted. “I myself, do not eat. Nor do I need to.”

“Mmm…” I said. “Give it a try.”

“Perhaps,” The boy said thoughtfully. “You are getting better at this.”

I opened my eyes and raised myself into a sitting position next to the carcass. The scent of copper drifted on the wind, filling my nostrils and giving me a vivid reminder of the events that had just transpired. The boy stood a few yards away, observing the vines that I had summoned from the dirt. 

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m faster at it for sure.”

“You have also managed to fuse two different types of plant together. The vines, and a redgrave tree.”

“I had to,” I shrugged. “The vines weren’t strong enough to stop it.”

“Correct,” The boy nodded. “It is an advanced technique, one that I did not expect you to master.”

“Just mashed the two together,” I shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

“Two separate life forces,” He said. “Fused into one, it is far more complicated than it sounds. However…”

In front of us, the wall of vines disintegrated, and the ‘tree’ I’d created followed shortly after. They turned into dust, the particles taken by the wind until they’d vanished entirely. We were left there with only the dead bear, and us, and the creek.

“Fusing two life forms may seem elementary, but they expire shortly after, regardless of your skill.”

“Aways?”

“Always,” The boy confirmed. “If you have great skill, the fusing can last for much longer, years perhaps, but it will always dissipate, and it will always die.”

“Well, fortunately, I don’t really care how long they live, so long as they can kill bears,” I laughed. “say, I have a question for you.”

“I have nothing but answers,” The boy shrugged as he began to walk. I followed him along the creek-bed, moving off of the grass and onto a strip of slate rock that stretched as far as the eye could see. 

“Why do you bring people here?” 

“I do not,” He said. “People bring themselves here.”

“I didn’t bring myself here,” I argued. “I was struck by lightning.”

“Do people survive that, often in your world?” He looked to me, I raised an eyebrow. 

“Wait, are you saying-”

“I’m saying that you should not take things at face value. Regardless, I did not bring you here.”

“Fine,” I sighed. “Be as cryptic as you want.”

“I will. Have you had enough of trees?”

“That’s an odd question,” I stopped and turned to him. He grinned at me as he turned to the creek bed and observed it. The rushing water suddenly converged, rising into the air and forming into a transparent wall. A moment later, it transformed into a tornado of liquid, swirling faster and faster until finally, he released it, dropping the water back into the creek bed and splashing us both. I looked to him, water dripping from my head. “Neat party trick.”

“Elemental magic is simple here,” He explained to me. “Though it is stronger near areas where the Arctesonite is plentiful.”

“The Arctesonite?”

“The crystals that you have seen, growing from the ground,” He explained. Of course, those. I remembered the fields of crystals, jutting from the ground like stalagmites. Sometimes they were poking from the grass, sometimes they lay on what appeared to be fields of purple glass that stretched for miles, crystals as tall as buildings. 

“I thought it was part of the scenery,” I shrugged. “something you made.”

“I didn’t make everything here,” The boy said. “The Arctesonite is a natural formation. The Mah’Kur thrive on it. If they move too far away, they disintegrate, like those vines. The Arctesonite runs through all of Liminality, but weaker in spots.”

“Do…you have to be near it? And what are the Makker?” 

“Mah’Kur,” He corrected me. “To put it simply, perhaps, they were like us once, but they defied the order, and now they are bound to this place, near sources of Arctesonite.”

“Bound?”

“They do seek to leave, obviously,” He shrugged. “And if they could find a world that hosted Greater Arctesonite, it would be possible.”

“What do you mean, Greater Arctesonite?” 

“Well,” He said, plucking a stone from the round and tossing it into the stream. “The Arctesonite is strong, but if you take it too far from the source, it disintegrates, just like those vines. Greater Arctesonite doesn’t die, no matter where you take it.”

“So what you’re say if the Macaroni had Greater Arctesonite they could leave Liminality.”

“Precisely,” He nodded. “the prospect has been…concerning. They indeed found a world with Greater Arctesonite, plenty of it, and they created a portal to it. Lucky for us, they can’t get too far from the portal.”

“Hold the hell up,” I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you telling me, that a bunch of creepy shadow dudes that are like you are trying to use Liminality to invade other worlds?” 

“Yes,” He shrugged. “But they will fail. They can only use the Golden Pass to reach Hybra, and past that, they cannot survive outside of Liminality.”

“How can you be so casual about this?” I demanded. “You’re talking about…about…angry bitchy shadow people invading worlds! Like…dude!”

“Why are you so upset?” He looked at me, confused. “You do understand that Liminality has been here since the inception of the multiverse itself, and this sort of thing…happens.”

“Happens?!” I practically screamed. “I pissed my bed when I was fourteen. That’s a thing that happened. I lost my virginity to a Playstation controller, that happened. A war for all creation isn’t something that just happens!” 

“Pest control,” He corrected me. “A problem that will be corrected, as it always has been.”

“How often does this happen?!”

“Once in a millennia,” He shrugged. “Perhaps less. Perhaps more. This time, the Mah’Kur, as they have so named themselves. Last time, it was the Elliracio. These things, they happen. The most important thing, is that we are near a decent vein of Arctesonite, so we should practice with water, are you ready?”

So we practiced for what seemed like hours, I managed to make the water move a bit, though I never created a water tornado. It was far more difficult than the vines; water slipped away too quickly, it was always moving. I returned to the village; the bear carcass was gone when I passed and the light was waning. By the time the buildings of our village came into sight, the sky had transitioned from the silvery expanse of day to the blackish-blue star-dotted canvas of night. The sound of waves grew louder as I walked along the cliff’s edge, skipping a bit and trying to forget what the boy had said. The boy, what did I know about him? He had said his name once. He called himself…Mock…Mockreet, that’s what it was. No, that wasn’t his name, he’d just referred to himself as ‘The Mockreet’. Was that a title? A nickname? Who knew. 

I turned and observed the open sea; the moon hung out just over the horizon, or at least what appeared to be a moon. On Earth, the moon was a rock millions of miles away in space; what would the moon be here? The same thing? Did space even exist in Liminality? Was the entire thing just a facade to placate the people who ended up here? 

“What are you looking at?” Mariel’s voice interrupted my staring as she laid her hands on my shoulders and pressed her cheek against mine. I smiled. 

“All of space and time, I guess,” I laughed. She nuzzled my cheek and moved her left hand down to my waist; I leaned into her, turning my head and planting a long kiss on her lips. 

“Where have you been all day?” 

“Hunting a bear with Balthasar,” I said. I hadn’t told her about the Boy. Only Balthasar knew, so far. 

“Yeah, he and the villagers brought it back in pieces. They’re off having a feast now. Where did you go after?”

“For a walk,” I smiled and turned, placing my hands on her waist and swaying slightly. 

“Long walk,” She grinned. “Take me next time?”

“You know it,” I promised. 

We kissed again, for longer this time, our bodies moving in time to the crashing of the waves against the rocky shore below. The moon lit her features as I pulled away; she was beautiful, and thanks to the curse of Liminality, she would stay beautiful for all eternity.

“We should get back,” She told me. “Before the creatures come.”

“They don’t always come,” I argued softly. “Just some nights.”

“But what if it’s tonight? We nearly lost Tarl last night, and the week before that, Brutus simply walked out and let them take him.”

“I know,” I sighed. “but I won’t let them take you.”

“Oh? And what will you do against them?”

“Whatever it is our flimsy cabin does to them,” I shrugged. “They’re so scary, but they can’t even break down a door.” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly, to my horror, she screamed as her body jerked and blood trickled from her mouth, dripping onto her dress. My eyes went wide as her body fell slack and slid from my arms, onto the grass. As she tumbled to the ground, I beheld the form of Micah Lavoric standing there, a stone blade in his grip and a twisted grin on his face.

“You know what we would do with heretics and defilers like you, back in Slose?” He suddenly laughed. 

“Funny,” I rolled my eyes and grinned a little. “Back home they’d just call us lesbos. You know she’ll just heal, right?”

“Not if I cut her head off,” Micah smirked, stepping toward me. I froze, my grin faded. Was he serious? Theoretically, he could do it. She couldn’t heal if her body was split into pieces, could she?

“Wait, Micah,” I shook my head. “You don’t want to do this.”

He stepped toward me, the twisted grin still on his face as I began to shake. He turned the knife over in his hand, waving it dangerously as he approached me. I looked around wildly; the sea to left, the village too far to my right. I could make it there, if I ran, but what about Mariel? What could he do to her in the time he had? 

“I won’t let you do this,” I began to twitch. I could do it, I could kill him with the vines, or at least incapacitate him, permanently. Or could I? What would happen to him once the vines faded? Fortunately, I didn’t have to decide; just before he took a swipe at me, the form of Balthasar emerged from the shadows, grabbing Micah by the shoulders and swinging him hard. I watched in near amusement as Micah’s small form was flung from the cliff’s edge, plummeting through the air toward the sharp rocks at the bottom. His scream faded into the darkness as I looked to Balthasar, who shrugged.

“Are you alright?” He asked me. 

“Been better,” I said, glancing at Mariel who was writhing on the ground as her body healed from what would have been a mortal wound in any other world. “He’ll come back.”

“He won’t,” Balthasar said. “He does, we’ll cut him up, as he planned to do to Mariel. I’ll take pleasure in it.”

I turned to the cliff’s edge again, sighing as I looked out over the water, thinking about Micah, the Boy, and the power that was growing within me. 

“He’ll still be back,” I insisted. “It’s time to teach someone else to do what I do.”

“Her, you mean,” Balthasar gestured to Mariel.

“No, I was thinking you,” I glanced to Balthasar. 

“You think the Boy will go for it, then?”

“I don’t see why not,” I shrugged. “He enjoys teaching people, but…not everyone can learn. He gets frustrated I think. He likes showing people how to manipulate the world, it’s fun for him. He thinks of it as his own personal canvas and…he likes it when people play with him.”

“Play,” Balthasar said, looking out over the water. “Funny way to put it.”

“Let’s help Mariel get back to the village,” I told him as Mariel began to regain conciousness. “then we can worry about Micah.”

Off in the distance, near the tree line, the sounds of growls and snarls began to sound. They were coming.