Story:Alto/Chapter 8

Blazing sands. Scorching sun. Heat and light, inescapable.

Although his disguise was necessary, the more Delta travelled into this desert the more he understood why Barbarus and Roland wore next to nothing. The cool forest air was something he longed for. The heat always shook his resolve when he ventured out on these journeys. But before it had been his only reason.

Now he looked back and see the Dolls. Humanoid figures, but something far from truly human. Animated beings with inorganic structure. He looked forward and saw their commanders. Barbarus and Roland at the lead, and others sandwiching Delta.

Did someone sense his rattled nerves? Or do they simply not trust him?

Worse yet, Ryo knew what was happening. As did those wolves.

A deep breath, then a heavy sigh. Roland turned back to look at Delta, to stare at that mask. A sigh like that was a poor sign. The Dolls were made to avoid such sighing. This magician lacked will. He lacked strength.

Then again, what could Roland have expected from such a coward? What sort of man attacks his own people? Roland didn’t know the answer to these questions. Roland couldn’t trust someone who’d so willingly give up his home.

But he also couldn’t trust Barbarus right now. He shifted his gaze to the king. A wide grin lay on Barbarus’ face. What was the point of attacking? Would that not hurt their goal? Would that not cause the people to fight back?

Roland didn’t want that fight. That fight would mean nothing to Roland.

Barbarus must contain his excitement. Barbarus must contain his lust. A place had sworn fealty to him. A place had given its land and riches. Barbarus will grant this place a worthy service. This place shall follow him like all others.

This forest is the last place. Once it’s Barbarus’ everything seen from the palace will belong to Barbarus. A glorious day!

That fool Roland doesn’t understand. That fool Roland only sees Roland’s glory. Roland cannot see Barbarus’ glory. Roland’s mind small.

Still, Delta’s strange. Delta’s quiet. Talks small. Barbarus doesn’t trust anyone who talks small. They are always hiding something. Whatever it is, Barbarus will find it.

Among the worried generals, Garland was the first to speak. “Each of us take 20 dolls and storm the forest, correct?”

“Yes.” Barbarus looked back to his army. A wicked grin danced along his lips.

“And we kill the wolf?” Roland asked.

Delta looked over in surprise, but wasn’t sure why. That had always been the plan.

“Yes. Then torch the forest.” Barbarus ordered. This time, Delta knew precisely why he was surprised. Why he was enraged by this question. What possible purpose could such an action have? And why had he only just now mentioned this?

“Why?” Roland asked.

“What?” Barbarus turned to himl; as did Delta and Garland.

“Why torch the forest? What for?” Roland turned from Delta to Barbarus. Their eyes met. Glares exchanged between them. The two let their horses carry them forward.

“Barbarus cannot let them hide!” The king turned to the forest first. “Barbarus will rule all he sees from the palace. If he does not see them, he does not rule them. Burn the forest! Let them be seen!” His answer was more like the roar of a wild cat. As he spoke he grew more excited. More angry.

Roland and Delta were now in sync. They shared the same feeling: disgust. Roland saw no reason for such folly, and Delta’s desire to protect his home raised within him. But with the mad king within sight and an army behind them, each bided their time.

Garland was perfectly calm in spite of all this. It was clear he gazed upon Barbarus, but his features remained a mystery beneath his full helm. Even the grip on his sword hadn’t changed. But Delta could tell that the knight’s mind was racing.

“Magician!” Barbarus barked. “Water!”

Delta looked back to the king. “What water?” He had no intentions of sharing his own, and wondered what had happened to the king’s.

Barbarus looked back to him and growled. “You magician. Make water!”

“I cannot.” Delta’s voice was cooled, but his mind wandered. “My magic only works with what’s around me. If there is no water, then I can’t fetch you any.” His answer was automatic. Practiced. He could speak the words without even knowing. Instead he wondered what happens to those who repeatedly tell this madman “no.”

Today, he would not find out. Barbarus growled and turned back. Garland had rode forward and spoke something to him while Delta pondered the aforementioned thought. Whatever it was, none else could not hear it. To those behind the two it was but a whisper. But it must have been significant to Barbarus.

The tower is what first appeared, visible almost from the palace itself. It was some time before the forest came into view. Even when it did, they had been far off. And only so much can be done to cool tensions. None of the three generals, nor Barbarus, truly got along.

A mad king, a warrior robbed of glory, a knight who acted without soul or heart, and a masked stranger. This was to lead an army in a unified assault. Each had spent more time thinking to themselves than drawing out battle plans and confirming tactics.

When they finally rode close enough to see the forest’s shadow an icy gaze pierced from within. Faint, blue circles were all that could be seen of the creature.

Barbarus gripped his axe and the chain hanging from its handle. The weight, a ball of iron the size of his palm, at the end casually hung down.

Roland drew his blade, only as long as his forearm, but made with thick, polished steel and sharpened to a deadly point.

But Delta held his arm out.

He dismounted his horse and walked up to this hidden beast. As well as the one he knew had not shown itself. Delta was the only one of his allies to be at peace. With his back to the idling army, the mask was removed.

“We told you; we have no interest in helping with your plan.” Spoke one voice.

“You bring forth ruin and expect us to accept it as salvation?” Spoke the other.

Roland dismounted his horse as well, but Garland grabbed his shoulder.

“I have faith in you, faith in the people, yet you have no faith in me?” Delta asked, walking up to them. “Please, stand aside.”

“You take us for fools, Grigori.” The second voice snarled. A black wolf arose from shadows, walking towards him.

“It’d be better if we just ate you and them.” The first revealed itself as a golden wolf, her own expression remaining calm and her voice light. She came around to the side.

“I do not wish to fight.” Delta put his mask back on as he walked back. “However, if you two are going to stand in the way, then I will simply allow them to do so for me.”

The magician backpedaled onto sand, the black wolf stalked after him, and the golden wolf circled around. The army stood firm. The knight released his ally, and lowered his blade. The now freed general gripped his knife and walked up to the traitorous mask.

“Let them come.” The golden wolf spoke.

“We shall put an end to this charade.” The black wolf pounced onto the magician, only to have sand blown into his face. Delta flung a cupped hand towards the wolf, causing sand to blow at it. His other hand flattened and spread its fingers into a fan, slapping the wolf with a gust of air rushing from behind.

“Fusion Art: Ash.” With that, yellow veins came across one side of his robes and brown veins along the other. Together they connected to the triangle on his robe and caused it to glow. The sand became a thick cloud of black, and the army charged in.

“What a disappointment.” Garland looked around as he spoke. His sword returned to resting on his shoulder, his eyes darting back and forth beneath the helmet, and a small troupe of dolls followed behind him. The rest of the army had scattered and the wolves had vanished in the same ash that Delta used to initiate the charge. Everyone had their own way to try and cut through the forest. This strange forest that suffocated him in a way the sun never could.

An hour had passed since Delta had cast his spell. A much longer time than it takes to traverse this forest. It would take an hour and a half tops for him to get from the desert to town normally, but this time he seemed to be making no progress at all despite walking in a straight line. Somehow, all his prowess at navigating these woods had vanished. His muscle memory was the same, and he retained the skills to walk through it untarnished, but he had been rid his sense of navigation.

While the two foreign generals tried to find their way around, the brothers had opted to stick together. If for no other reason than due to their distrust for the other.

“Stupid wolves!” Barbarus smashed the bottom of his axe into a tree to vent frustrations. The chains rattled from the sudden movement, only suppressed by the tight grip on them from his other hand.

“Stop.” Roland stood still, looked around. Silence. Pure, and unnatural. A silence fitting of the shadows cast from the trees. This was a forest of life, yet now they were surrounded by death. A feeling both were familiar with, but one that felt unnatural here. As if this death had a body of its own.

One that shone upon them with eyes of frost, in both color and gaze.

“Why run?” Roland asked, gripping his knife. Holding it in front of him, he readied himself to pierce the hide of the wolf.

“Because I cannot devour you in that desert.” A chained axe flew towards the voice. The black wolf took hold of the axe in his jaws as another, golden wolf came in and brought Barbarus to the ground with her paw.

Roland turned back to help his king. The black wolf spit out the axe and charged at the general.

Roland grabbed onto the golden wolf and jammed his knife into her. Barbarus took the weighted end of the chain and beat the other side of her with it.

The black wolf crunched into the general and ripped him off. Roland had no time to let go, dragging out the knife as he was thrashed about.

The gold wolf howled in pain before lifting her paw and slamming it into the king.

The black wolf whipped its head around, but Roland held on by impaling the wolf with his knife. Each whip of the neck and shoulders would twist and pull the knife around. Both endured pain to try and outlast the other. Yet Roland did not take it passively, gripping onto the wolf’s fur with his free hand and pounding his knee into the wolf’s jaw.

Barbarus threw up his chain and wrapped it around the golden wolf’s neck. A paw in his chest, the chain tight around hers, caused their own battle of stamina. A war of attrition between each other’s lung capacity.

Each of the invaders were paired with something that could end their lives. Ancient protectors of the forest. And their dolls were scattered, nowhere to be found.

The sounds of battle didn’t carry into the forest. Garland and Delta were both left unaware. Both simply tried to make their way through the forest, albeit for different goals. But first, Delta would have to eliminate his share of the dolls.

A simple process. One he had done before.

He held up a hand to stop their advance. He turned to face the silent, obedient army.

They looked so unnatural, he thought. The brown of the trees, the green of the foliage, and the soft creek within earshot. Yet here stood men of crystal. Something clearly forged by man in this house of nature.

His ring and pinky fingers balled up, his thumb touched the padshis index and middle. With a sharp, upward movement earthen spikes raised up and pierced into the dolls. His other hand flew to the side, cupped as if to grab something, and swung across his chest. Water flew in from the nearby stream. The cupped hand rose up and around him, making a circle while his hand slowly closed.

“Fusion Art: Mud.” His robe glowed blue and brown, the former going to his balled up hand and the latter crawling up his still raised arm. Each hand met with a clap. The water and earth flowed into one another, molding around the crystalline aberrations.

His hand moved up towards his face, his fingers snapped. A small flame appeared on his thumb. Delta moved up to each one and carefully doused them in flame. This mud began to harden like clay, entrapping each in stone.

“Adding some statues for your garden?” A muffled, yet echoing voice called out. Its deep, piercing tone was instantly recognizable to Delta.

“I thought the magic of these would have scattered all of us.” Delta looked behind him at the knight. His armor was covered in all the things that nature could have pelted him with. Leaves, twigs, and dirt lay upon him.

“I’ll admit this is much different than the magic I’m used to.” Garland explained as he lowered his sword from his shoulder. “But magic comes in many forms, and some counteract others.” Delta turned around as Garland held up the sword, presenting its tip, aimed straight at the center of the mask. “Tell me, mage. How would your magic get you out of this situation?”

Roland was thrown off of the wolf, slamming his back into a tree. The black wolf stalked up to him as he forced himself onto his feet. The knife remained in its neck, blood dripping onto the woodland ground. Yet its snarl suggested not a hint of pain or agony.

Roland smiled in excitement. He was wrong about this assault. There was something to be gained here after all.

Barbarus punched his own wolf with his axe, causing a yowl of pain from her as she leapt off. He stood to his feet and watched the golden wolf bound off into the forest.

“Don’t run!” He roared, throwing out the chain. It caught her back foot, spiralling around until the weight hooked onto the chain. With a yank he pulled her towards himself.

The black wolf turned around and darted straight to the raging king.

The king turned around and braced himself.

Again he was knocked prone. With one hand he kept a grip on the chain, and with the other he held back the wolf with his axe.

When he looked up, he saw that those icy eyes had been melted. A fire raged inside the wolf that wasn’t present in its partner. One Barbarus recognized, for that brief moment the two had the same eyes. Ones of hatred, of fear, and of desperation.

This moment of clarity was only muted by the wolf’s jaws clamping down on the axe yet again. The metal could withstand its fangs, but was already beginning to warp from the pressure alone. Roland charged the wolf and gripped onto his knife, ripping it out. It growled and bashed its shoulder into the warrior, knocking him down again. The wolf slammed its claws onto Barbarus, grunts coming from beneath it.

He yanked onto the chain to free it, the weight coming back. The golden wolf had freed herself, but Barbarus wasn’t concerned with this. He punched the wolf in the throat, again and again while concentrating on keeping awake from the pressure.

Roland began to get up again as the golden wolf flew past, knocking him down once more. He raised up his arm and had fangs dig into it.

Yet this only grew his excitement, for it was his knife hand that was free.

He dug the knife into the golden wolf. Unlike her midnight companion, she lacked a means to shrug off pain and injury. Blood dropped all over Roland as the knife went into her neck. She howled again and ran off, leaving Roland free to stand again.

But the black wolf noticed.

As Roland stood the black wolf leapt off of Barbarus. The man turned to see fangs and claws decent upon him.

And all that could be heard was a wet, sickening crunch.

Delta stared down the length of the blade. He hadn’t paid it much attention before, but now it was all that he could see. It was long and wide, but slender. Before it looked small compared to the knight that wielded it. But now he could see its full size.

“Only Barbarus could not see that you were a traitor. Tell me, what is it a retainer should do with traitors?” Garland asked. The two stood calmly. Delta’s hands did not move, nor did the blade.

Just as within the eye of a storm, all was still. Tranquil hostility. So peaceful that the birds sang, but so tense that no creature dared approach.

“It is as that wolf said. All charades must come to an end, I suppose.” Delta put his hand into a fist, then pulled back his fingers. His hand, now resembling the paw of an animal, raised up. A pillar of stone rose up, knocking the blade off center.

Middle knuckles jammed into the rock. Pebbles sprayed outwards.

Garland turned with his sword. His hand reached up and grabbed it as the rocks pelted his armor. Dents, but no damage.

The blade was ripped from its current momentum and slashed forward. Delta had already stepped back. He gripped the air behind him and pulled water forward as a whip.

Water enveloped the blade and yanked it downwards. Garland offered no resistance, instead moving with the blade. His shoulder slammed into Delta’s chest, knocking the mage prone. The mage was dazed, and the knight barely injured.

Unspoken words formed on Garlands lips as he lifted up the blade. Hidden faces met each other’s eyes. Another moment of stillness as time seemed to slow for both of them. A silence broken by fire. Delta brought up his hand, snapped his fingers, and blew into it. Flame erupted all along the knight’s body. Its intensity heating the metal red. But the noise coming from within was inhuman.

Garland threw his blade to one side and leapt back. Both hit dry wood, igniting separate ends of the forest.

“Save yourself or save your home, mage. Make your choice.” Garland taunted. His voice now had a metallic droning to it, and inside the helmet something shimmered.

Delta quickly looked to the side. Each hand grasped for water as two whips splashed each of the trees. But as those fires were being smothered he saw more flames in the distance.

A cackle like metal grinding against itself came from within the knight.

His magic wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough.