The Mother of Monsters

The plan turned out to be fairly simple. Something Teyva felt she should have realized earlier, given the tools they had at their disposal.

Azrael pointed up. “You see how your Mockeries can climb the walls without any troubles? They can most definitely stick to the ceiling— and drop on the heads of the humans.”

Teyva wasn't convinced. “My new friends here might be able to do that… but then what? They get a jump-scare, sure, but I'm not sure they'll run away for dear life just like that.”

Teyva turned back to the Mockery on her hand and pointed. “Sit.” The Mockery sat, and Teyva's heart melted. There hadn’t exactly been instructions for them when they were created, but she could feel a sort of connection to them. She thought about having several mockeries hang from her arm like little cute bats.

She wouldn’t exactly call her connection telepathy, though it felt close enough to what she imagined telepathy would feel like. She had felt the Mockeries in her mind. When she realized what was going on, the very idea had sent her brain into overdrive. It reminded her of RTSes, where she could command units to move and attack, but this was so much more. She was almost too distracted to listen to Azrael’s explanation.

“Your little friends won’t make them flee, but their ambush will throw the humans off-balance. Most importantly, it’ll help distract their caster,” Azrael frowned a little when Teyva's Mockeries lined up and hung from her arm like grapes on a vine. “Are you listening?”

Teyva gave her a strange look, it was somewhere between a grin and a confused smile; “Yeah, I heard you. Caster,” She honestly couldn’t believe half of what she was hearing. If she weren’t just now playing with a small squad of living, flesh-eating coins, she would have laughed at Azrael trying to convince her that they were about to be in a swordfight with a group of militiamen accompanied by some kind of wielder of magic.

“I suppose I have to get used to this sooner than later,” Teyva muttered, then paused. Her nonchalant reaction to the situation she was in worried her a little bit. Had all those deaths done more damage than she realized?

“Their caster is a user of the natural magic of some kind. That’s how they followed me here— a tracking spell, no doubt,” She said, glancing up when the sound of shouting grew louder— and definitely closer.

Teyva fell still. The voices were clearer now and they did not sound friendly at all. She stopped her playing and set the Mockeries on the ground, leaning against the sarcophagus behind her and taking a low, deep breath. Little breathing techniques had helped keep her calm in taxing situations, but this was a bit beyond stressing about a job interview or a semester final.

She turned to look squarely at Azrael; “Do we have to kill them?” She asked.

“I am trying not to— but the situation is dire. We are cornered and outnumbered. I wish I could have convinced them peaceably, but they never had any intention of letting me leave alive. You complicate things. As I said before; they don’t have any love for those not of Katal. Your death would be a pleasant surprise in their eyes. Something to share at their local tavern, no doubt,” Azrael said grimly, reaching for her sword and giving it a visual once over.

“Suppose it’s a little late in saying that I’ve never killed anyone before?”

“But you destroyed the Tomb Guardian?”

“That thing wasn’t exactly alive in the same way we’re talking about a group of people.”

“Point taken.” Azrael sighed and got to her feet, maintaining a crouch, “I can’t make you join me in this, but I would appreciate the help. I’m not sure I can both protect you and leave these men alive. This will likely become… a diplomatic incident. I did bring these men into your cave, so it is my responsibility to deal with it. If you want to sit it out, I understand.”

Teyva winced. That wasn’t exactly the response she was hoping to hear. A diplomatic incident? How the heck was she supposed to turn that down? Easily, she supposed. It wasn’t like she had any concern about dying. Her hand slipped to the sarcophagus that lay on its side behind her. Or… maybe she should be a little concerned? Now that the sarcophagus had been knocked over and the tutorial had ended; was her ability to respawn also compromised? She hadn't given it much thought until just now. The prompt had said some sort of protections had ended, but it didn't say that she couldn't respawn anymore. It was all so ambiguous.

She looked back up at Azrael, who had moved to peek around one side of their hiding place, searching for signs of the approaching men. One way or another, Azrael was more than just her ticket to safety. She was also a source of information in a situation where Teyva was running almost completely blind. She wasn’t going to survive long on her field rations either. She needed to find civilization, and a way to survive. Azrael had mentioned a king that she worked for. That meant a city. It had to. At the very least, a castle. Both possibilities meant food.

Teyva sighed; she had no choice. She gave the order to her Mockeries to begin climbing the wall and make their way to the ceiling.

“Thank you,” Azrael said, having turned to see the creatures moving up the walls.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Azrael opened her mouth to say something but she was Interrupted by more shouting.

“Hey, there’s a big room down here! And light! That she-demon messenger might be down here!” sound of boots against marble carried down the distant passage. The hunters had found the tomb.

Teyva pressed her back hard against the surface of the sarcophagus. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears again. She’d experienced pain before, terrible pain, but for some reason, being killed by an unfeeling monster made sense to her. It was horrible, but at least it was natural— monsters killed people. These hunters were ordinary men, as far as Azrael described them. Coming in and killing Teyva just because she existed… felt insane. Nonsensical. She took a deep breath and tried to push out the intrusive thoughts, focusing on getting out alive. She couldn’t risk dying at this point. She didn’t know if she’d come back this time. There was also the death penalty to consider; would she lose her newfound aspects and powers if she died just after gaining them?

The sound of boots carried into the room, the echo now audible as the ringing of chainmail and squeak of leather against stone drew Teyva out of her thoughts. Azrael had tensed, her legs taut like a coiled snake. She couldn’t see Azrael's eyes but Teyva imagined they were hard; mentally prepared for what was to come.

“Not much else left in this cave to look through,” A man with a nasal voice said, he sounded out of breath.

“Keep your eyes open. She’s in here,” another voice said, this one a man with a bit of culture to his tone, “The tracking spell is giving a strong reading.”

“You hear that, demon girl?” Another man shouted into the room, “You got nowhere else to run!”

Demon girl? Teyva glanced over at Azrael who was scowling at the black stone between her and the men. The woman gripped her sword tightly, taking a breath before speaking in a loud voice; “I will tell you one more time. I am a messenger of peace from the Azar people and King Thrake. I am under orders not to kill your kind, human! Allow me to deliver my message and I will be out of your lands within a day.”

Teyva’s heart thundered in her chest. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved that Azrael was trying one more time to avoid a fight or if she was infuriated that their cover had been blown.

A sharp laugh came from the other side of the stone; “And I’ll tell you again, girl, we don’t want peace from no demons! The only good demon is a dead one, as far as I’m concerned. So why don’t you come out and we’ll put an end to this chase, yeah? You had a good run.”

Azrael raised a hand, gesturing to Teyva.

“Almost…” She whispered, her eyes narrowed.

More footsteps. It was hard to tell with the acoustics but there had to be at least five or six people in the main part of the chamber at this point. Teyva tried to feel for the connection she had to the Mockeries. She could intuit where they were in relation to where she was but she couldn’t get a good idea of how close they were to their targets. All she could do at this point was rely on the creatures to do their jobs. Teyva closed her eyes and took another deep breath; one more before the madness ensued.

“Fan out,” Came a hard voice.

“Now!” Azrael hissed.

Teyva scrunched up her face and gave the order to attack.

For a moment, there was no sound, just the silence of the tomb. Then one man let out a grunt of surprise and another gasped. Finally, there was a scream of pain. More shouting broke out just as Azrael muttered something that Teyva couldn’t quite hear under her breath. A flash of light and warmth erupted from beneath her feet and she hurled herself over the podium, spinning in the air with the grace of an Olympic gymnast. Teyva called out her knife and clung to it for dear life; not daring to look around the corner while Azrael did her work.

“The hell are these things?”

“There she is!”

“Get it off of me!”

There was a shout, and a low hiss of steel carving through the air. What followed was a man’s scream and the thump of a body hitting the ground. Teyva felt sickness rise in her chest as the shouting continued; bile tickling the back of her throat.