The earth was quaking, its intensity built up with every passing moment.
The ice shook, the tentacles were breaking through, one lash at a time.
Yet what burst wasn't Plamus' prison, but the ground only a short distance from the remaining survivors.
Their eyes bolted to the location.
A single green bud sprouted from the hole.
It was blossoming, four sections opened, revealing red petals, and at its centre emerged a flower-woman.
"The… locals?" Winny felt like she was losing her grasp of what was real.
"What are they…" she mumbled, then swerved her head to Frey.
She had already forgotten, so much happened in the meantime, but Frey had overseen the locals once before.
The flower-woman was cradling something in her arms, a person, a husk of shrivelled flesh.
It wasn't the infected girl, that one was nowhere to be seen.
That likely meant this flower-woman was a different one… telling them apart was impossible.
Frey rose from the ground and walked towards her.
Vines crawled around the bag of skin and bones, then carefully lowered them to Frey.
Frey looked at the body, then back up to the flower-woman, "We need her! Surely you can spare one!"
He glanced over to Daren, Vivienne, and Kassan, then winced as he turned back, "A final one! Really!"
The flower-woman underwent no change in expressions.
Frey frowned, his brows wrinkled, "Look at him!" he pointed towards Plamus' frozen prison.
"What do you think will happen once he gets out of there and is done with us?!"
"Do you think he'll stop when that's happened?!"
"Maybe you can stop him! But how much-… how much are you prepared to sacrifice to get you there?!" Frey screamed his lungs out.
"Just one… one drop is all we need… I am sure of it. Please." he pleaded.
Winny watched them quietly, Frey's conversation with himself, it was so cryptic.
Wasn't he in charge?
Why would he need to bargain this hard?
After some moments, the vines laid the husk onto the ground, then the flower-woman began to act.
Her index finger was outstretched, pointing to the ground next to the body.
Another bud was growing out of thin air, much smaller than the one below herself.
At the centre, a tube-like pistil was elongating, the yellow petals at its base looked small in comparison.
When the flower was done sprouting, a singular orange droplet worked its way out of the opening and trickled straight down onto the hollow cadaver.
The others watched in complete silence.
Some of them had seen a similar scene just a short while ago, the underground lake, the heart, could this be the same thing as then?
The droplet splattered as it made contact, it sunk into the body, leaving behind no trace.
Then without any delay, worked its magic…
The skin and hair became reinvigorated, gaining a healthy colour.
Flesh was bubbling underneath, returning to their proportions before their deflation, and filling out the charred clothes that clung to it.
Fingers and eyelids started to twitch.
The human husk was regaining its normal state… Reyna was coming alive.
"…Revival?!" the rank three mage's eyes were about to pop out of their sockets.
"What are you doing Frey?! How is another rank three mage going to help?!" Winny called out.
Frey turned around, but he only mumbled about, "Fire, wind, earth, water."
"Fire, wind, earth, water?" Winny repeated.
She looked at Agnes, 'Weren't those her words? What about them?'
Reyna was coming to; her arms were shaking as she attempted to lift herself.
A hand appeared in her vision.
She flinched back, she had yet to understand what was going on, the sudden change in her surroundings, her feeble bodily strength…
Her eyes darted around, "And… Plamus?"
Frey gestured broadly in the direction of the ice block, before extending his hand again.
Reyna locked eyes with him… it was weird… she couldn't see any malice… no greed, nor scheming.
When was the last time someone extended a hand to her, without devious intentions?
Metaphorically speaking or not.
She exhaled and reached for the hand of the boy she had tried to kill, allowing herself to get pulled up from her pitiful state on the ground.
Reyna looked herself up and down, there were no wounds, no cuts, no blemishes.
She was practically glowing in good health.
No amount of skincare could compare.
"…Did you save me?" she couldn't bring herself to look at Frey, her voice sounded defeated, "…why?"
Frey spoke bluntly, "Because we need your help. You can still make fire, right?"
"Make fire? Yeah… but I don't see us winning against Plamus, I mean, I tried, like, really tried! You know?" Reyna spoke.
"I want him dead, trust me, the same amount, or maybe more than all of you, but that's not going to happen…" she continued.
"That's good enough." Frey countered.
"Good enough?" Reyna's voice was filled with ridicule, no chance of hiding that.
Frey rushed up to Agnes, while the flower-woman, and the rejuvenating bud returned to the earth.
"Agnes!" he called out to her, shaking her shoulder, "Agnes we have it! Fire, wind, earth and water, just like you said! What now?"
But no matter how hard he shook her, she didn't respond.
The ice cracked, a loud ringing, like a bell, reminded them that time continued moving, that Plamus was going to free himself at any moment.
"What's the plan Frey?! What do we do?!" Winny rushed him for an answer.
An answer he didn't have.
Frey went quiet, his brain was working overtime.
But how could he come up with a solution to a problem he didn't understand?
Tentacles were banging against the final icy layer; the rest had already been worn down.
Frey bit his thumb's nail, surely there was something left that they could do!
"Frey!" Winny spoke.
One of the tentacles smacked against the wall, and managed to pierce the cage, opening a hole just wide enough for itself to reach through!
It waived through the air but was too far from anyone to inflict any harm.
The purple streaks that spread through the darkness all changed their direction, they moved towards the opening, the path of least resistance.
"FREY!" Winny shouted, as tentacle after tentacle burst through the corrupted ice.
They were prying apart the bars of their cage, widening the gap with every attack.
"Cast!" Frey shouted.
Sweat was running down Winny's back, "What?"
"CAST! ANYTHING!" he screamed, and without skipping a beat, gathered earth particles in masses.
The air shuddered; Reyna's body lit up from all the runic patterns becoming active, her complexion grew worse again as particles oozed out of them.
But neither of the two could turn them into spells before Agnes' staff swooped them up, and two of the four coloured lines on the wooden artefact started to glow.
Frey gulped… how would they defend themselves?
The tentacles struck and burrowed into the ground, harvesting all that was available.
Life drained at an observable pace, the green remains dwindled.
The earth turned black.
A presence was closing in around Agnes, eclipsing her entire world, seeping in through cracks like fog.
The frozen elements were reacting, her corrupted ice attempted to keep them suppressed, contained, but it was becoming harder.
The sun high up in the sky was regaining its splendour, shining like a newborn star, while the earth was flourishing, shaping her world uncontrollably.
The world was quaking from its movements.
Her hands were raised, swinging back and forth, trying to subdue the madness within, but everything was growing beyond her control.
The ice was melting, burning away, a sudden flash flood was threatening to drown out the world.
Slits appeared all over Agnes' body, cracks, that widened at the same rate as Plamus' prison.
Frey watched on horrified.
Why would her skin break like the surface of a porcelain vase?!
Frey's mouth opened and closed; he couldn't breathe.
Winny tried to cast, but all her efforts were nullified, as her spells disappeared upon passing Agnes' staff.
Panic stricken, she turned to Daren.
If Agnes and Frey were to be believed, they still missed air and water!
But Daren was incapacitated, his eyes closed.
And Vivienne was being treated, her state was the worst among the bunch.
Her holding on like this was already a miracle and a half!
The rank three mage threw himself to the ground, his palms hitting the dirt, pink barrier after pink barrier were layered upon each other, covering Plamus' cage.
They tried to compress him, his appendages, but they were attached to the ground like roots, nourishing their host.
It was impossible to guess how far they had spread already.
His spell steered clear from Agnes' staff, forcing him to expend far more resources than was necessary.
Tentacles burst under the pressure, but simply reformed, to attack the layered spell!
There was hardly anything left to do aside from buying time and hoping.
Then perhaps… maybe, just maybe…!
Blood dripped down the corners of his mouth, more and more, until he was spewing like a fountain.
Yet he was holding on.
Each layer that broke was replaced by another, but their hue became less vibrant as this went on.
Vivienne's hand trembled, her vision was blurry, her heartbeat faint.
But even now, she wanted to fight back.
Wind gathered around them, she failed to control it, the particles appeared, and dispersed, before another attempt followed.
When they came close enough, they were absorbed into the wooden staff, revealing a third coloured line.
Yet Vivienne didn't stop, she kept gathering particles, repeatedly.
Her vision was impaired, she didn't know that something was holding her back from forming spells, she was running purely on instinct.
Within Agnes' world the winds picked up, air started to spiral, they formed into terrifying hurricanes!
Darkest clouds assembled overhead, battling for their place against the brilliant sun!
Agnes' facial expressions contorted fiercely.
Frey watched her muscles tense up, something was happening to her, but he couldn't grasp what!
"Agnes! Water! We are missing water! We have everything else! You can fill it yourself, can't you?!" he was afraid to touch her, the cracks on her skin acted as a massive deterrent.
Ice shattered, louder than ever before!
Purple and black mist escaped its prison and soared into the lightless sky; tentacles filled the air.
Plamus' hunched back straightened, his imposing aura swept through the small crowd of humans.
Thousands of eyes blinked uncaringly.
He pushed his hand against the crown of flesh that was growing from his head, it was faintly shimmering, in its grotesque splendour.
His feet lifted off the ground, he was levitating forward, breaking the almost translucent barriers that aimed to contain him.
Fainting was the last thing the rank three mage could afford right now, still, he felt himself breaking in ways he had never considered before…
Weakness was seeping through to his marrow; his mind was giving out.
One last paper-thin defence separated Plamus from the humans, and with a flick of his fingers, it, and the rank three mage collapsed.
The dark appendages were hanging in from overhead, getting closer to Agnes.
The cracks on her widened, her breathing worsened.
Frey felt the walls closing in around them, he took a deep breath and resorted to the only thing he had left… "BACK OFF!!!"
His voice distorted, the sound was amplified, stillness coursed through the swamp.
Winny was sweating pearls, a feeling, an intense desire to obey, washed over her.
It washed over everyone.
Baron Beckett clutched the injured Vivienne, his feet pressed against the ground, pushing him farther away without much thought.
The tentacles halted their advances.
They froze, briefly, they were shaken but not defeated.
Silently they surrounded Agnes and Frey, blocking any way of escape.
Frey was huffing, he felt drained… was his injury acting up?
But the flower-woman had sprinkled him with a droplet of that remedy!
He reached for his shoulder, but it seemed fine, more than fine, actually.
Agnes was set on fire, the wind was trying to tear her apart, and it felt like mountains were placed upon her back to crush her.
The elements she suppressed all this time were retaliating to the injustice they had been enduring, and all her attempts to refreeze them ended in swift defeat.
However, unbothered by the elements, the fog that was creeping along the edges of her world was converging, growing into the shape of a singular, hideous creature.
A tentacle coiled around Frey's neck and whisked him off the ground, "S-sto-" he wanted to resist but couldn't even finish speaking as the chokehold was getting tighter!
He clawed at it, but any tissue he managed to carve out simply regrew in its place.
Plamus lowered himself back to the ground, his eyes inspected Agnes, and simultaneously, her staff.
Tentacles burst forth from the earth to entangle the remaining humans.
Those that had the energy left to struggle, fought for their life, only their battle was unwinnable.
The rest were captured without any resistance.
Winny's eyes were rolling back into her head; every bit of strength was waning from her body.
Every thought, every feeling… vanished.
Plamus' wrinkly fingers curled and extended, his hand moved towards the staff, he was drawn to it, and as he touched the glowing wood, his head jolted back.
Wriggling waves crawled from one end of his body to the other, bulging out from under his skin.
The unknown particles all around spasmed.
But he didn't let go.
Agnes' skin broke like a crystalline surface, and pieces fell off her, revealing a deep darkness, an endless void.
Within her mind, the three elements were rampaging, destroying the borders of her inner world, and anything left within.
Chaos had ensued and began consuming her whole.
Agnes knelt; her body trembled from all the pressure she was under; she tried her hardest to break through, but the fire, the wind, and the earth were unrelenting…
And above it all, there was that figure… relishing in her suffering!
She couldn't even see what was going on outside, the moment she diverted her attention would spell her end.
A dreadful quiet ruled the swamp, or at least what was left of it.
The few remaining whimpers of the expedition were fading into the endless night of the plane.
Until soft thuds broke the silence.
A graceless stride, blood dripping from every surface, a gaping wound covered his chest and abdomen, giving him the figure of a crescent moon.
Organs trailed behind him, and were dragged along the ground, with no more flesh to hold them in place.
His skin was terribly pale, his arms no more than stumps.
Splintered bones decorated the former ribcage.
The exposed, discoloured heart was pierced similarly, a white shard stretching through the vital structure.
And yet, it was beating.
Marquis Gomon's mouth lay open, breathing in air that almost escaped his throat the moment it entered.
Only half of his lung was still intact.
He had survived Plamus' attack, but he was the farthest thing from alive.
The scene before him was a rigid one.
Nothing was moving, except for himself.
A chunk of space, where the passage of time seemed to halt.
The tentacles didn't react to his approach, they were stunned, just like their host.
Gomon's shoulders rotated, lifting his shadow limbs.
His vision was worsening with every moment, blind spots were growing, one after the other.
Water particles gathered in heaps, like little droplets of rain, that fused over time.
The resulting spiral made its way towards Plamus, but abruptly changed its course, as it neared the artefact in Agnes' hand.
The spell flowed into the wood, and got lost within, but Marquis Gomon could hardly see.
He relied on his senses, and his senses told him, that Plamus was still standing.
So, he continued, gathering more particles, and supplying them.
Another coloured line was drenching the staff blue…
One vortex after the other formed on the vast ocean that spanned Agnes' inner world, causing masses of land to vanish within them.
Air spiralled; it was being strengthened as increasing amounts of water vapour were pulled in.
A nautical storm was unleashed upon the world, carving a path wherever it was drawn.
Fire, wind, earth, water; four natural disasters struck at once.
Agnes' vision spun, the toll on her was getting too much, her world was crumbling, the sky came crashing down, piece by piece.
She could feel her mind's eye growing distant, everything was becoming fuzzy, and faint, as though she was being pushed out of her own world!
On the outside, her hand was gripping the staff tightly, the lines representing the four elements coursed into her, seeping into her very being.
But no regular mortal was built to contain all this power, as it was progressively destroying her.
On the inside, Agnes was being pushed, farther, and farther, into an abyss-like darkness, the scenery of her inner world grew distant.
Within her hand a shape materialized, the artefact she was gripping formed, in all its glory, but to her, it was just a means to slow her descend.
She plunged the base of the staff into the ground and instantly felt a change… like a pillar of sanity she could cling on to.
But despite her best efforts, the tugging hadn't ceased, her legs were still sliding backwards, as was the staff.
Every step she pushed forward, set her back by two.
A limitless void expanded behind, what would happen to her should she let go?
She gulped, and shuddered, then exhaled, she couldn't allow herself to get unnerved…
But what was she even left with?
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Her ice-magic had ceased to show itself, and there was nothing else to channel her hope into.
The freezing embrace of nothingness was creeping up on her, and though she usually didn't mind the cold, this time, it was unbearable.
She felt vulnerable, helpless, weak… just like when… when she…
Her breath got stuck in her throat, her body shook.
One finger slipped after the other.
She was barely hanging on by the tips of her nails, that scraped the wood, as she was losing ground.
A tear ran down her cheek, as her hands let go of the staff.
The light was drifting away; her lips twisted into a bitter smile.
"…Goodbye Frey…"
She took a final breath while closing her eyes, "Goodbye, Cykrus…"
The chasm went on forever, until there was nothing left around.
Agnes' senses grew numb.
Her body decayed, from the feet up, she turned to dust and scattered into the unknown.
Her legs, her torso, her shoulders and neck, her head.
Gone.
Only her outstretched hand, that was reaching for the oh so distant light remained and was turning brittle.
The fingers curled, the hand closed.
Salvation was out of reach.
It was turning translucent and shapeless, when something filled the space in her palm.
A speck of light.
A tiny mote.
A ray of life.
The light grew to resemble a hand, and grasped Agnes'.
Her hand returned in kind.
That hand regrew into an arm, a shoulder…
The horrible silence of the void was filled with a heartbeat.
Slow and loud.
"Fight it! Agnes!" a whisper, a voice, an order.
Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-dum!
The pace picked up, Agnes' form returned in full.
In her eyes there burned a look of resolve that melted even the icy embrace of nothingness that clung to her.
She raised her foot, and as she set it down, the tugging had become miniscule.
The radiant beacon in her hand was helping, pulling her up, as she was dragging herself out of this never-ending dark!
One step at a time, to defeat the thoughts and feelings that had dragged her down here.
One step at a time, to escape the wretched ending that creature had sent her hurling towards.
From the peak of a massive cliff, the light of day became visible.
Her path led her right back to the staff she had planted.
Agnes' hand gripped it, then passed right through, the wood gave way, and burst into many particles, that swarmed her wrist to adorn it like an accessory.
She continued moving, scaling the steep incline.
Space wasn't following any rules in this place, warping, twisting and turning however it pleased.
There was no feeling of relief upon reaching the top, no form of pride from this achievement.
The source of unease was lying ahead, hidden behind a curtain, a formless wall, that only allowed shreds of light through the tiniest of gaps.
Agnes pressed her fingers into the gaps, digging deep, while pushing through the resistance that wanted to prevent her from returning.
Her teeth clenched, her fingers pried apart the fabric that clung to itself like an organism, tearing it open.
Tissue tried to reattach itself, to counteract her attempts, but the particles around her wrist turned restless from sensing the other side.
The pitch-black curtain was ripping all over, sound came pouring out.
The gaps no longer regenerated, the path opened.
Agnes' inner-world was a marvel to behold… the four elemental disasters… had stopped.
Stopped acting up.
The vortices, the hurricanes, the quaking of the earth, and the burning sun, they were all perfectly still.
A sight Agnes had seen before, created before…
Fear.
They were afraid.
Within the centre of the four was a silhouette, its legs crossed, its back turned towards Agnes.
Meditation? Assimilation?
Whatever it was doing, the four powered-up elements were terrified beyond action.
Agnes continued walking, the particles on her wrist orbited in a tight radius, but sped up, the closer she got to him.
Her feet were met with invisible steps, each one leading her further up, until the dastardly figure became impossible to mistake.
Plamus.
Plamus the human.
A form that should no longer exist, was right before her.
Her hand reached for him, like an instinct, there was something there, something she yearned for.
She stood before his exposed back, and there it was, that something.
She couldn't see anything, but she was certain it was there.
Her fingers stretched, then coiled around something malleable.
Fire, Wind, Earth, Water, the four elements returned to action, seeing their chance, they leaped at Agnes!
Her world was bending inwards, the borders became the centre, and the centre became everything.
All the natural disasters shrunk in scale and orbited around her, like the particles around her wrist, causing the object to reveal itself…
Protruding from Plamus' back… the ceremonial dagger.
Agnes was entranced, her world felt narrow, yet boundless.
Barren, yet plentiful.
She clasped the handle of the dagger tightly and pulled.
Rotten flesh from the wound clung to it desperately.
But even with all his might, he couldn't stop her.
The artefact came loose, and with it removed, Plamus keeled over, his body cramped, his face convulsed!
His shape became unstable, his lips moved, but made no noise, still, their message was clear, "How. Dare. You?"
Agnes' world kept collapsing in on itself, the four elements had no more room to expand to and clashed fiercely with one another.
But Agnes was unaffected, she stood in the middle, the eye of the storm, absorbed in the engravings of the dagger.
Plamus' body was fading, his attempts of rising to his feet were fruitless, the source of his power had been removed.
Her world was folding, forcing the elements ever closer, like a singularity, where everything was becoming one!
The particles that orbited her wrist travelled upwards to surround the dagger artefact, which emitted a low hum.
And just like that, the four disasters were calming down…
All of them turned docile and overlapped.
Harmonized with each other.
Agnes' eyes widened, a soft glow filled them, as the dagger broke into pieces, and mixed with the four.
Space shrunk, the pieces spun around themselves and slowly interlocked.
A dark red symbol formed, a rune.
It was mesmerizing, changing at all times-
When the inner-world suddenly expanded again!
An empty canvas remained, spanning far and wide.
The only thing in it, was herself, and the unknown rune.
Chaos was ruled in.
Order… returned.
Yet her world was left broken beyond compare.
On the outside, Plamus recoiled.
He tumbled backwards, the crown atop his head, though it was connected by flesh, seemed to slide off him.
The tentacles shivered, one by one, they let go of the half-drained humans.
Plamus held his head, his face, incapable of expressions, was displaying sheer agony, all his eyes were blinking hurriedly.
The proportions of his body were altering drastically, his arm grew twice as large, before deflating again.
Flesh bubbled underneath, then burst, and though such a wound would have closed in mere moments, this time it stayed.
The edges of the weird particles in the air became sharp, then went up in black flames.
Plamus fell to the ground, his appendages coiled around him in desperation.
Marquis Gomon stood nearby, he could feel it, Plamus' aura was growing faint.
…Victory.
But something else appeared next to him.
It was a blur, an illusory figure, brown and large… some sort of beast?
A giant hand pushed him, then the sound of flesh getting impaled spread through the vicinity.
Plamus' tentacles had launched a final offensive, digging into the target before him as payback!
But Marquis Gomon took the fall, Agnes remained unscathed.