Rune Seeker

Hiral and the others sprinted ahead before they could get embroiled with more Shapers, but slowed when they got within fifty feet of Fitch. Condensed ropes of solar energy weaved through the air around him, and he turned to face the group head-on. The cloak still covered him from the shoulders down, and loose sleeves wrapped his arms, while the raised hood seemed filled with unnatural darkness, masking his identity. In his right hand, the Spear of Clouds sparked with electricity—like power incarnate, waiting to be unleashed.

And… it sparked with something else. Something prickling at the back of Hiral’s senses, like he should…

“Fitch, is that you?” Seeyela asked, stepping ahead of the others. The pouring rain pattered off her Armor of the Ghost-Web Matriarch, but there was no mistaking her voice.

The hooded head tilted slightly to the side as Seeyela spoke, and Fitch lowered the butt of the spear to rest on the ground. “I almost didn’t recognize you in that outfit.”

There was no mistaking that voice either, and Fitch reached up to lower his hood. Like Picoli, tentacles stretched up the back of his neck, over his skull, and down onto his forehead. Solar energy pulsed within to match the weaving ropes of power that seemed to extend from Fitch’s back.

(Infested) Fitch—Unknown Rank

Nothing about the tag above Fitch’s head was a surprise to Hiral, though just the feeling of the man’s energy alone made a shiver run down Hiral’s spine. No way he’s C-Rank. He’s at least B.

For his part, Fitch stood casually with the spear in one hand beside him, while his long cloak covered the rest of his body. If he was surprised or nervous about seeing them there, he didn’t show it.

“Fitch, how are you alive?” Seeyela said. “We thought you died down on the surface in that Lizardman city. I’m… I’m sorry we didn’t look for you…”

“Don’t be,” Fitch said. “I’m better this way. So much better.”

“But, how? Lonil…”

Fitch’s brow tightened as the rain ran down his face, and he lowered his head. “I’m sorry about Lonil and Balyo. Lonil shouldn’t have followed me out like that. He interrupted my offer, tried to stop it. If he hadn’t—if you’d all just stayed put until after the bonding finished—I could’ve protected you. Made sure you all got the same offer I did.

“Because he attacked—and because you ran—my new friends reacted before I had a chance to speak on your behalf. But that’s all different now. You’re here. I made an agreement for you, to keep you safe. Others too. You just have to let them in, like I did, and you’ll be safe from what’s to come. And strong. So strong.”

“Agreement? What kind of agreement?” Seeyela asked, suspicion clear in her voice.

“You’re worried about Favela, aren’t you? Don’t be. She’ll get the same offer because she’s important to you. I made sure of it.”

“What are you planning on doing to my daughter?” Seeyela’s tone changed to one of hard anger in an instant.

“Just giving her a chance to survive. Why are you so angry? You should be thanking me. She’ll have a chance to truly see the world instead of being trapped on those tiny islands. Trapped by the whims of the petty Islanders who just use and control the Growers. I’ll give you both freedom and power like you never even dreamed of.”

“And, what? All we have to do is let an Enemy inside us? Let it take over our bodies? And how much of us remains?”

“Enemy?” Fitch spat the word. “They aren’t our enemies. If anything, they’re our saviors. And, if you agree to the bonding, you’ll still be you… just more. So much more. And you…” Fitch cut off and tilted his head to the side, as if he was listening to something Hiral couldn’t hear. “She can’t? You’re sure? Ah, that’s unfortunate.”

“What’s unfortunate?” Seeyela asked.

“You can’t be bonded,” Fitch replied, bowing his head slightly in apology. “You’ve defiled your body.”

He must mean the glyph of fertility. It really is some kind of ward of protection against Enemy infestation.

“I’ll take care of Favela, though. Don’t worry. I owe you at least that. And you too, of course, Seena. As well as your families. And hundreds of other Growers. We’ll be the new kings and queens of this world. No longer confined to the islands, we’ll be free.”

“Hundreds?” Seena asked.

“Yes! Our new allies are very generous, aren’t they? All we have to do is break that crystal, and they’ll uphold their end of the agreement.” Fitch pointed over his shoulder at the crystal atop the Fallen’s tower.

“And what happens to the other Growers?” Seena asked. “To all the Makers? To Seeyela?” The flaming sheath on her body spat and flared as the rain hit it. Or maybe it had something to do with the undertone of anger in her voice.

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“Those that survive and submit will be allowed to serve,” Fitch said easily. “Those who fight”—his voice hardened—“have no place in our new world.”

“You’d kill them?” Seeyela asked. “Your own people?”

“Our people will survive! They’ll be stronger for it. Sure, there will be less of us, but we’ll live hundreds of years longer. We’ll rebuild, better than ever. Wherever we want. Don’t you see? This is our way forward.”

Fitch lifted both arms out to his sides as if he wanted the two sisters to embrace him. As he raised his arms, his cloak fell back to reveal the expected tentacles crossing his chest and running down his legs. Only his right arm had the extra sleeve to conceal the living PIM, and the whole thing glowed with power and… wrongness.

“Fitch, why are you doing this?” Seeyela said as she shook her head.

“Why am I doing what? Why am I freeing us from the oppression of the Islanders? Why am I taking revenge for how they always looked down on us? Why am I giving our people a chance at true power and freedom? Which of those questions would you like me to answer?”

“Is that what you really think you’re doing?” Seena asked.

“All that and more,” Fitch said calmly. “You’re smart. Always have been, both of you. That’s why you were our party leaders. Why we all trusted you… until you let him in.” Fitch turned a scowl in Hiral’s direction. A second of hate, and he focused back on the sisters, his expression softening. “I can forgive that, though, if you make the right choice now. Help me finish what I’ve started.”

“And if we don’t?” Seena asked.

“Why would you resist me?” Fitch asked. “After all the Islanders have done to our people over the years? After what they did to my sister? How—”

“Did you look for her?” Hiral interrupted. “When you came up to Fallen Reach, did you try to find her? Or learn about what happened to her?”

“What did you say, Islander?” Fitch sneered, turning his attention back on Hiral. Behind the man, the ropes of solar energy grew more solid until they were clear tentacles writhing in the falling rain.

“Simple question,” Hiral said, fingers tightening around his RHCs. “If you were really so worried about your sister, you would’ve tried to find out what happened to her. Did you?”

“Your people killed her!” Fitch snarled. “Murdered her.”

“You have proof?” Hiral shot right back. “Where’s your evidence?”

“I don’t need evidence! I know! And that’s not even your only crime. Your people captured us on the surface. Tortured and beat us when we wouldn’t answer their questions. They were going to kill us!”

“And you’re helping those same people right now,” Hiral pointed out.

Fitch’s teeth clenched as his knuckles whitened around the Spear of Clouds. “Your opinion doesn’t matter,” he said a second later, the tension leaving his face, though his hand didn’t loosen. He turned back to Seeyela and Seena. “Only you two matter. Make your choice. Make the right choice.”

Seena and Seeyela looked at each other, then back at Fitch.

“He’s right, you know,” Seeyela said.

“I half-expected Seena to side with the Islander, but not you, Seeyela,” Fitch said.

“This isn’t about siding with Hiral. This is about you, Fitch. And… this”—she pointed at the man with one of her daggers—“isn’t you.”

“Of course it’s me. It’s me finally getting what I want!”

“No, it’s not. The Fitch I knew wouldn’t be up here talking about killing hundreds of thousands of his own people. He’d be searching for what happened to his little sister. He’d be turning over every stone, looking in every window, in the hopes of finding even just a hint of her.”

“I told you! I don’t need to search; I already know!” He patted the air as if in apology, then quietly said, “I know.”

“But you don’t. That’s the thing inside you speaking. Twisting what you think you want to get you to do what it wants. Breaking open this tower. Killing all these people. It’s not what the Fitch I know would do.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Maybe you don’t know yourself anymore.”

“Enough,” Fitch said. “This isn’t going anywhere. Make your choice. Help me, or…”

The two sisters shared another look. Seeyela’s fingers tightened around her Fangs, while Seena’s two tomes floated into the air beside her.

Fitch sighed, his breath steaming in the rain.

“We…” Seeyela started.

“You can’t,” he interrupted sadly, as if he knew what she was going to say.

“We can’t what?” Seena asked.

“Stop me. You’re not nearly strong enough. I’m so far above you now, you can’t even begin to understand.”

“We may not be as weak as you think,” Seena said, the flames across her body intensifying.

“A few flashy toys from the dungeon aren’t enough to bridge the gap. You can’t possibly be stronger than D-Rank by now. With this”—he tapped one of the tentacles on his chest—“I’m High-B-Rank. You have no chance.”

He thinks we’re D-Rank? Even with that… if he’s High-B, that makes him stronger than the Shapers we fought.

“Please, don’t make me kill you,” Fitch said, though there was no pleading in his voice.

“I was just going to say the same thing,” Seeyela said, green auras blooming around her Fangs of the Lady.

“This is your fault,” Fitch said, glancing in Hiral’s direction.

Then, with his left hand, he reached to his waist and drew his sword from his belt. The same sword he’d gotten way back in their first dungeon—though something about it had changed. The bramble crosspiece’s thorned vines had been replaced with squirming tentacles.

Obviously a theme with him now.

One weapon in each hand—sword in his left, and the Spear of Clouds in his right—Fitch spread his feet and readied himself for a fight. “Come. I’ll make it as quick as I can.”