A Lullaby For Gods

CHAPTER TWENTY: TEENAGERS SCARE THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME

JANUARY 27, 2014

NEW YORK CITY

In Cronus’ defense, he did assess the situation as best as he could, and came to the conclusion that not only did Eridan look like he was only held together by spite and unhingedness, he also looked a little too attached to the girl who stood on top the end of the world.

While the boy aimed the rifle at his face, he’d kept Jaeger behind him, refusing to let her step forward and get any closer to Cronus. And when he and the M human were eventually let into the hotel, Eridan made sure to put himself between her and their visitors, wary and tense. Considering that the boy understandably didn’t regard his dancestor in a positive light, it was going to be an uphill battle trying to convince him to…well, let Cronus kill her.

So, he’d chosen the tried and tested method of ‘just put people out of commission while you meddled’ that the Heir of Doom and their team were fond of. They’d done it plenty of times to several of their wards, after all, and most of it had worked so far. Besides, how difficult could it be? Cronus could tell angels to die with barely any sliver of magic in his voice, how hard would it be putting a kid to sleep?

From how he had to dodge several spears of holy light being shot in his direction while he ran down the street as fast as he could – exceedingly difficult.

“Shit!” he muttered, stepping out of the way just as a spear grazed the sleeve of his jacket, tearing it open and leaving the scent of burnt leather. Unfortunately, doing so made one of his feet hit a piece of rubble on the road, tripping him sideways. The whistle of something hurtling his way at breakneck speed forced him to roll, just in time for another spear to hit the ground right where he’d been before.

The weapon boiled and sizzled the asphalt it was embedded into, before slowly fizzling away.

He was still on the ground, and there were still spears raining down on him from the sky. Without enough time to dodge, Cronus instead got up and, at full force, commanded, “MISS!”

The spears wildly swerved out of the way, crashing into the nearby buildings and sidewalks, causing the earth to rumble and shake upon impact. One of the buildings behind Cronus groaned, and he turned just in time to watch a chunk of its wall crumble and fall onto the street.

Cronus coughed, his throat painfully dry. He hadn’t had reason to use magic at full force before; his body wasn’t used to the kickback of it. Being a bard, it was a given that his version of poisoning wasn’t going to be as bad as Eridan’s, but he was already starting to feel light-headed.

Speaking of Eridan, the weapons he’d made in the sky had thankfully already run out, having destroyed a whole city block in their rampage. The boy himself was marching down the road through the fire and the smoke his destruction had wreaked, the stench of burning flesh wafting off him in horrid waves. In the meager light the fires around them provided, half of his face was visibly coated with violet blood, steadily dripping from the self-inflicted wound on his forehead.

Eridan slung the rifle he had off his back, clicking the safety off and aiming it towards Cronus. The Hope insignia lit up in front of it, expanding until its diameter was taller than the boy.

“Enchant,” Eridan said, looking through the crosshairs. “Demolish.”

He fired. Cronus dove out of the way of the bullet. It hit the sidewalk behind him – and promptly exploded.

The force of the explosion threw him forward, sending him crashing onto the road. He could feel the flare of magic as Eridan shot another bullet, and, still in the process of scrambling up, Cronus once again commanded, “MISS!”

The shot went wide again, this time swerving into the building to his right and blowing the top half of it completely off. Cronus raised his arms to protect himself from the resulting spray of debris.

Scrambling backwards, he hazarded a glance towards Eridan. The boy was standing in the middle of the road with his gun raised and aimed, most of the skin of his arms now burnt and flaking. Blood steadily dripped from his ruined hands, clumps of burnt flesh falling to the ground in alarming frequency. Somehow, the boy was still holding his weapon upright.

Cronus took in a deep breath, preparing to shout another command to get Eridan to stand down, but he ended up coughing, his throat now itchy and dry.

“Keep going,” Eridan said. Cronus lifted his gaze towards him, his eyes watering while he kept coughing; his dancestor’s grin widened with malice, the look in his eyes feral. “Liquify your own lungs, Cronus.”

“No fucking thanks,” Cronus croaked out, diving for the side again as another bullet fired and sent a chunk of the street sky-high.

Cronus was strong, but with his body limiting his own magic use, he wasn’t winning this fight. Not when Eridan was so dead set on killing him even at the cost of his own health.

Gritting his teeth, Cronus watched the rifle, his knees bent and legs ready to evade. As Eridan pulled the trigger, he ran for the side, sprinting into the nearby alley and disappearing from the main street. He took the turn and continued running down the cramped street, legs burning as he ran as fast he could.

He had no idea where he was going, but he just needed to get away, outlast Eridan until he passed out from his wounds and fatigue.

His hair started to float as the air flooded with magic, taking form too fast to create any pressure. At the sudden spike of power, Cronus looked up at the dark sky to see the Hope insignia expanding there, bordered by a plain circle.

“Oh, come on!” Cronus hissed as a whole armory’s worth of spears formed in the sky again, immediately ducking behind the side of the building to his right as the spears rained down on the area. He crouched down and lifted both arms to cover his head again, eyes screwed shut as he waited for the attack to finish.

What the fuck. This was just unfair at this point. Nobody should have that much power, especially not a snotty little brat like Eridan who was currently teetering on the edge of madness right now. How the fuck wasn’t he dead from magical poisoning?

Cronus waited for the ground to stop shaking, body tense as he felt the magic in the air slowly ebb, before dampening. Cautiously, he cracked one eye open, looking down one end of the alleyway, and then down the other. To his right, there was the main road, which now looked more like pile of formless gravel littered with chunks of walls from surrounding buildings and a few burning furniture.

He stayed in the alleyway. No new magic circles cropped up, no magic spiked in the air. No Eridan walked down the street either, in search of him. As silently as he could, he neared the mouth of the alley and leaned to the side, trying to get a glimpse of where Eridan was.

The boy was much closer than he’d thought, standing a few feet away in the middle of the road with rifle in hand. One of his eyes had gone milky white, while his other eye was madly roaming around, trying to spot him. His burns had crawled up to his biceps, while spots of blood were starting to show on his midriff.

His remaining good eye spotted Cronus hiding behind the building. Immediately, his rifle swiveled, aimed, and fired. The bullet, normal and unenchanted, ricocheted off the concrete as Cronus pulled himself backwards.

The kid was running out of magic. His body was giving out too.

He also wasn’t running towards the alley where Cronus was despite the fact that he’d seen him. The kid was still standing, still holding up, but it was likely that he barely had enough strength to keep himself going and couldn’t even walk.

Cronus was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he felt magic flare above him again. This time, the magic circle’s border wasn’t plain, instead engraved with Trollian runes arranged in a ring around its Hope insignia, which was expanding at an alarming rate.

The letters read in its circle read: THE GREAT DRAGON.

“FUCK!” Cronus sprinted out the alley and into the road before a massive, malformed, winged creature suddenly shot itself out of the magic circle and completely flattened the building Cronus was hiding behind. No bullets fired at Cronus as he came within Eridan’s range this time, and a quick glance to his right revealed that the boy was on his hands and knees, his gun fallen to the ground. His whole body was shaking, his flesh practically melting off of him now, but his make-spell was lifting itself up, flapping its great white-gold wings as it stood and turned it multiple heads towards Cronus.

“Stop it, Eridan, you’re killing yourself!”

Cronus rushed for the boy’s body, picking him up from the street and bolting away from the dragon as it roared golden fire at the spot he was a second ago. A rattling cough escaped Eridan’s mouth as he was dragged off, his blood soaking Cronus’ clothes while bits and pieces of his skin and muscles continued to peel off his body.

Thankfully, the dragon behind them flickered and fizzled out of existence – but Eridan wasn’t letting Cronus have any moment of relief as the boy slapped a flayed, burnt hand onto his chest, the blood making his shirt stick to his exposed, melting muscles and bones.

“Deflect!” Cronus yelled, just as a blast of Hope energy erupted from Eridan’s hand, blowing the whole limb off as Cronus’ own command made the blast bounce off him. Unfortunately for him, the force of it still hit him, blowing them both away from each other – Cronus was thrown back, crashing into a house, while Eridan splattered onto the road, bits and pieces of him scattering all over the asphalt.

But magic still poured in the air. The boy couldn’t move, but he was still awake, and he was still summoning whatever power he could.

“Signorina!” Cronus yelled – or tried to, as his voice broke off in a cough, while he snatched the Full Moon of Derse out from thin air. “I need help!”

I am not a protector, the Full Moon said.

“I need to find help,” Cronus corrected. “I need something – anything – ”

Eridan was dying. That wasn’t in the plan. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He had no idea what Little-Heir and the Heir of Doom’s future plans were for Eridan, and he wasn’t eager to let one possible mistake of his ricochet all over the timeline, so he needed to make sure there were as little casualties as possible. His target was Anshu Jaeger, not Eridan Ampora.

The engraving on the Full Moon caught his attention, reflecting in the fires around him. MAY THE LOST FIND THEIR WAY HOME.

“I need help to find me,” Cronus whispered. In front of him, Hope energy was gathering into a large, condensed ball. He’d read about this type of attack before; it was a Roar. Cronus held onto the coin tighter. “Signorina, I need help – ”

The attack fired.

#

THE LAND OF SNOW AND STARS

Dualscar turned as he heard Kankri Vantas startle behind him. Other than house chores, there wasn’t much to do in the Land of Snow and Stars, and since everyone here, save for Nightwalker, was used to constantly moving around, they’d agreed to continue practicing their magic and having sparring sessions outside, as long as they kept close to the house.

They’d chosen a large patch of land in the backyard as their ring, taking turns in shoveling the snow away every day, and made their own schedule of who was going up against who.

Today, it was Sabera and Nightwalker’s turn to throw the kids around a little, so the Handmaid was currently resting in the house, while Dualscar was watching from the sidelines alongside those who had already taken their turn in the ring.

“You okay, kid?” Dualscar asked, looking Kankri up and down for any serious injury, though the boy seemed to be fine.

Kankri nodded, his eyes narrowing though his gaze was unfocused, before suddenly, and with clarity, his head snapped up and he looked at Dualscar.

“What – ow.” Dualscar screwed his eyes shut as sudden light shone in his eyes, like a beam of sunlight suddenly hit him. As he raised a hand and slowly opened his eyes, he found himself standing right under a moonbeam. Above him, the sky was still filled with clouds, save for one tiny spot where the light had broken through to shine down directly onto him.

He looked up, squinting. “What the fuck?”

“Do you feel it?” Kankri asked, his tone a little disbelieving.

“Feel what?”

“The – something’s calling for you,” he said. “It feels like – it’s someone connected to you…”

He trailed off, as slowly, the part of the ground that was illuminated by the moonbeam expanded to include him; another patch in the clouds parted to let through a small ray of light, this time shining down on the sparring ring, right at where Nightwalker was standing, having frozen in surprise at what was going on.

Understanding suddenly dawned on Kankri’s expression; Dualscar, however, just frowned in confusion.

“Mr. Nightwalker!” Kankri turned to the sparring field. “He needs your teleportation abilities!”

“What?” Dualscar asked. Nightwalker just jogged over.

“Something’s calling for him, it’s really far away – ” The boy turned and pointed towards the shining full moon. “ – but it’s straining on the connection and it needs his help.”

“Can you let me see it?” Nightwalker asked as he came to a stop beside Dualscar. Kankri nodded and put a hand on his forearm, the young man’s eyes flickering into a deep red. “Ah. I see.”

“See what?” Dualscar asked.

“I think it’s your dancestor, or at least someone related to you genetically,” Kankri said, turning back to Dualscar. “They’re using some form of magic to call for you.”

“They might be in trouble,” Nightwalker said, lifting two fingers towards Dualscar’s forehead – the troll ducked away to dodge, and the knight frowned. “You are needed, Orphaner.”

“How the fuck do we know it’s safe for me to go there?” he asked, “This is a little sudden, isn’t it?”

“Do you remember what I said about the moons of Derse?” Nightwalker asked. Cronus nodded. “The Heir of Doom had access to the Full Moon.”

The knight turned and then pointed up to the sky, to the shining full moon casting its light upon all three of them.

Dualscar’s eyes widened. The Heir of Doom?

He turned back to Nightwalker, the manica on his arm glowing warmly as he summoned power from it. “Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?”

#

HOTEL PANDEMONIUM

“Do you think we should go look for them?” the adult human – M, Jaeger had heard his name was – asked, peeking through the curtains drawn across the living room windows. Outside, the streets were as dark as ever, and though multiple earthquakes had shaken the ground, there were no angels in sight.

“I don’t think it’s ghosts or angels,” Jaeger said, coming up beside him to similarly peek out. “It feels more like…”

It feels like two different kinds of magic flaring in and out of existence. One of them was more familiar and more corrosive than the other, while the other felt like the visitor Ampora had earlier, destructive but more contained, a little less acidic and lethal than Eridan’s. They flared in turns, with Eridan’s overwhelming his guest’s more to the point where it almost felt like it was smothering it.

Were they fighting, then? Unless there was some other threat than Jaeger couldn’t feel, then they must have been fighting each other. If they were and got too out of hand, they could accidentally take out the hotel and everyone else with it.

The curtains began to blow around them, though the windows were closed. M’s green eyes narrowed as he stared at the gaps in the windows, and then outside, to see if there was any indication of a breeze strong enough to blow the curtains back.

Then, impossibly, a light began to shine from the sky. Both of them pressed close to the window, alarmed, and the bright light sudden angled itself and focused on –

Jaeger. The light was cool and silvery, the same way moonlight would shine down on clear evenings, only there was no moon outside tonight. Or, at least, there shouldn’t be. M pulled the window open and stuck his head out, gasping as he found the source of the moonbeam.

“Holy shit.”

Jaeger followed his lead and leaned out; looking upwards, she saw that in one of the cracks in the sky, the image of a full moon peered out, and was shining down directly at her. The rest of the rifts above them were empty, allowing for the moon’s light to come through clear in the darkness.

The moonbeam on her began to split, hurriedly moving its spotlight from the streets she could see to beyond the buildings in the area. After a minute, it steadied, fixing its light on a specific point far in the horizon.

It was far too much of a coincidence for a full moon to shine down on her when the rest of the sky was filled with nothing. And for it to choose her specifically when she was standing next to someone else, and then split off and shine onto a fixed point like it was trying to show her something…

The Full Moon of Derse. He’d wondered where his darling little sibling had given it away. They still had it, then, and had loaned it out to one of their assets, one of whom was currently in trouble.

Was it the younger Ampora or the older, newer one? The older one, Jaeger couldn’t care less about, but he needed Eridan; her own powers weren’t enough to cleanse this world with the speed he demanded. She needed a lot more firepower, and a mentally-breaking Prince to do it.

“I gotta go,” Jaeger said, hauling herself out of the window and jumping off.

M made a noise of alarm behind her, arms reaching out in an attempt to pull her back, but he missed, and she dropped, before suddenly hovering in mid-air and shooting off towards the sky. She was still a sprite, after all, no matter the perversion of her biological make-up.

Free from having to navigate through the twists and turns of the road below her, she flew straight towards the moonbeam, frowning as she saw multiple puddles of violet blood as she went past. Her own reflection stared up at her in those few moments, the corpse that made up her old body peering up at her, eyes wide with concern. She clicked her tongue. Of course Anshu, the cadaver that’d been thrown into the kernel, was awake again, worried about her friend.

Whatever. It wasn’t like she was strong enough to fully wrestle control of the meatsuit.

Jaeger angled her flight downwards as she reached the wrecked part of the city the moonbeam was shining down on. Illuminated by its light was a body, lying on its side, in a puddle of violet blood. There was a ball of condensing energy in front of it, summoned into place by one mangled, nearly-formless hand.

The Roar fired.

#

Cronus felt something yank him by his middle, diving out of the way while throwing up a massive golden barrier at the same time. He wheezed as the air was knocked out of his lungs, eyes widened as he realized he’d dodged that attack, somehow, and wasn’t dead.

Then, the rest of what’d just happened caught up with him. Someone was holding onto him, carrying him like luggage by their side, and that person was currently standing up to their full height. Cronus looked down and saw boots, still with some snow clinging onto its soles, though the flakes were already melting. A dark coat swished by his side, and he looked up, as best as he could.

The person holding onto him was a troll. An adult troll – long curving horns standing tall atop his head, with fins on either side of his face that flicked down with annoyance. Magic poured off of him in waves, starkly different from the way Eridan’s magic had felt as it filled the space around them. This one’s magic was warm, invigorating, electric – like some tangible version of excitability and joy.

“Nereus?” Cronus breathed, eyes widening. There could be no one else, right? It was an adult troll, whose magic felt incredibly different from a destruction-type. Granted, he’d never actually met another Hope player outside of Eridan hours ago, but still, who else was there who fit the description of his sudden savior?

“Ner – what?” The troll leaned forward and looked down, and Cronus froze as the adult’s eyes widened. “What the fuck!”

That was his own face staring down at him. Older, sharper, with two fuck-off huge scars across his face, but that was him. What the fuck.

“Who the fuck are you?!” the older troll asked.

“Who that fuck are you?!” Cronus shot back. “Some fucking bodysnatcher?” His eyes narrowed. “The Heir of Blood?!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Cronus let out a pained grunt as he was suddenly dropped onto the ground. He immediately rolled away and pushed himself off the ground, eyeing the other troll warily as he stood. The adult troll, similarly, was giving him a once over and looking at him shiftily.

Cronus swallowed his saliva in an effort to quench his parched throat and demanded, “What’s your name?”

The man stiffened as he felt the magic in his words. The golden arm band on his arm sparked, briefly – and the flare of the warm magic Cronus felt earlier had the boy immediately looking towards it. That was what gave off the positive-feeling magic.

“What the hell,” the older troll muttered. “That works just like my powers – ” His eyes narrowed and – jegus fuck, he looked exactly like Cronus when he was annoyed. “That’s it, you little shit, what’s your – ”

Before the adult could finish his sentence, a sudden explosion threw both of them backward. The only reason Cronus didn’t crack his head open on the road again was because white-gold magic wrapped around him and prevented him from crashing against anything.

As he was set down, he saw something glow in the smoke beside him – it quickly whipped out and cleared the smoke away at the resulting air pressure, revealing itself to be the manica the adult troll was wearing. The man had formed a barrier around himself, which quickly dissipated as the glow on his arm guard died down.

Eridan’s magic flared. Cronus turned across the street in horror to find his dancestor with his gun up again, his clothes soaked in blood, but his body fully intact. His eyes were fine again, and the arm that he’d blown off had reformed.

Jaeger was beside him, one hand on his shoulder, her magic just fading from healing him.

Eridan lowered his gun, glaring at the manica the adult troll was wearing. He clicked his tongue, muttering something that sounded like, “So that’s how it’s going to be,” before meeting Jaeger’s eyes and nodding.

“Who the fuck are those two?” the adult troll asked.

Cronus turned back to him, confused. “…you don’t know them?”

“Not by face,” the adult said.

“Yeah, well, we better start running – that one’s a Prince of Hope.” Cronus began moving backwards.

The troll turned to look at him, surprised. “That’s Eridan Ampora?’

“Wait, you do know him?”

Another flare of magic had them eyeing Eridan warily, but this time, the boy was setting down his rifle. Behind him, Jaeger held both of her arms out, her soothing, calming magic filling the air, taking the edge off of Eridan’s corrosive magic.

Eridan began to chant: “Come forth, child of Heaven’s might.”

“Oh, fuck no.” The adult troll turned tail and ran, grabbing Cronus by the back of the shirt and dragging him with him.

Underneath their feet and above the city, two magic circles with the Hope insignia lit up into being, quickly expanding to make sure to keep both of them within its range. Cronus waited for it to stop, to suddenly shrink as Eridan hit his limit, but it just kept going – in fact, its expansion speed was doubling, easily outrunning both of them as it proceeded to engulf this side of the city.

“Scorch the earth with your holy light.”

Cronus turned back towards Eridan; he was standing above one magic circle, and behind him, hovering in the air with her hands on his shoulders, was Anshu Jaeger.

“Is – is she doing that?” Cronus asked, and only realized he’d said it out loud when the adult answered:

“She’s a Sylph, you idiot, she heals!”

Panic seized him as realization dawned on Cronus. If she could heal Eridan faster than his body could break, there was virtually no kickback. Eridan could push his magic as far as it could go.

“Bridge the gap between saints and men.”

The adult stopped running, dropping Cronus and throwing his arms up. Instantly, five barriers sprung into existence around them, the manica flaring as they were put up. He gritted his teeth, muttering, “Enchant: Fortify.”

“Let them know – ”

Cronus turned to the man. “Is it going to hold up?”

The adult didn’t answer.

But he moved his hands, another magic circle forming above them –

“ – Divine Judgement.”