“So why are you guys even here?” The question was directed at nobody in particular, but he could see that the group as a whole deferred to two people, the blonde woman and the scarred man. They were both figures of notable strength, but what got Jim interested in them was the way the group seemed to be split about how they should act towards them. “From what I know, from the guy whose family made the thing, was that this well was made to grant the wishes of a woman with a deceased lover. And to be frank, that Gawayen guy doesn’t seem like he could love anyone,” he paused, as if thinking about the best way to set off the various parties around him, “Perhaps apart from himself.”
Almost immediately the group as a whole cried out in anger. They raised their weapons and faced him as if they intended to tear him to pieces. Quentin glanced at him in tense confusion before grabbing Fen by the hand, “What are you doing?” he whispered, before turning to face the crowd of burgeoning murderers before them.
“I’m creating Order through chaos,” Jim replied quietly.
“The Grand Lancelot is beyond reproach, heretic,” the scarred man declared, “as is lady Yveth. But you, you associate with the Doom of Avalon. You associate with that which causes our end, and that is unforgivable. There is only one remedy for this and as the arbiter of lady Yveth, I declare you must die.”
Jim tutted. The swirling emotions he could see amongst the crowd did not make a pretty picture, but there was one thing he noticed. It was a simple action, involuntary, and invisible to anyone who was not looking for it, but he noticed it. To him it stuck out like a black line against a plain canvas, impossible to miss, because it was so out of place. The blonde woman, whom he had assumed was one of the figures in charge of the group that swarmed before them winced ever so slightly every time the scarred man mentioned the name of the other woman, Yveth. At first he thought it was an accident, a minor oddity, but when it happened again moments later, the only cause that Jim could pinpoint was the name of the woman who had gone into the heart of the Well with Law. There was bad blood there, fear that had been instilled in a way that was Pavlovian. It was something he could use.
He rubbed his pointer ring surreptitiously and sent a message through to Quentin, Fen and Ruko before striding towards the group that were intending to end all of them. With each step the density of mana around Jim rose and collected uniformly around his head before transforming into a simple golden crown.
“When my crown appears, attack. Quentin, go for scarface. Fen, Ruko, keep the man and woman behind him entertained, I’ll deal with the blonde and the crowd; I’ve got a fun idea that should benefit us.”
“Of course you’re going after the pretty one,” Quentin replied as he strode forward, keeping in time with his companion. Like Jim, with each step forward Quentin's strength shot up. He was a blade unsheathed, and that blade only increased in deadliness as golden tattoos began wrapping themselves around his body. Line after line spread across the exposed skin of his arms, neck and face, decorating him in tribalistic patterns that only served to increase his intimidating aura by several folds.
Behind the two men Fen and Ruko held each other by the hand. With a swift movement, the young boy deposited a hundred puppets on the ground while the girl raised her hand and pointed at the two kimbramancers behind the scarred figure of Dayel. She took a deep breath as a diadem appeared on her head in time with Jim's and cried out "Charge!"
As the young girl spoke, the battlefield exploded with action. There were flashes of purple light and Jim grinned as he watched the Avalonian force consume itself; half the force leapt forwards to combat him, while the other followed, to combat their companions. A soft purple glow surrounded them as several of them sank their bone weapons into their nearest Avalonian companions. The wounded cried out in shock, and the possessed held no quarter, instead screaming about Tower spies that had invaded. Seeing their companions collapse inwards, both Ayna and Dayel charged at Jim, but Quentin leapt at Dayel, knocking him away from Jim and the children.
As Dayel flew through the sky, Ruko urged the puppets to split into three groups: The first split and attacked the woman, Mari, like a wave; the second swarmed the man, Tomas, and pinned him down; the third sat back, and replaced any damaged puppet as and when necessary. Ruko let go of Fen’s hand as she guided the groups of puppets with the tips of her fingers. Each puppet struck out in unison with another one or two puppets, never letting the kimbramancers have a moment to breathe. Inevitably some of the puppets became damaged as they fought, but Ruko just pulled those back and let Fen nourish them and repair them to keep the fighting force at full strength.
As his three companions fought, Jim focused on Ayna. He could feel her thoughts as she attacked him. It was like she was screaming with her mind, telegraphing every single action and allowing him to block or dodge every single strike with ease, however he had lofiter aims. Every so often he was struck by her as he tried to drill into her mind. If he could enter then he would take control of this entire arena, but Ayna was tough to break, even before including the inherent resistance to mana that kimbramancers all had. His will was battering against her mind like a battering ram even as her fists struck him, and bone blades pierced his flesh. It was a battle of attrition on two fronts, the only question was about who would survive.
Stumbling backwards after a particularly tough strike, Jim coughed up a glob of blood before wiping it on his arm with a smile, "I can feel your fear, Ayna. It screams at me."
Ayna stopped for a moment before growling "I'm not afraid of you, little man."
"I didn't say it's me you're afraid of, but darling, that dread screams at me like a beacon. It's a fear built so deep into you that you might not even realise it's there." He grinned. He had his in. It was common knowledge amongst the occupants of the Tower that one should never let a Caesar start talking, however Ayna did not know that. The more words he spoke, the wider her barrier opened.
"You know nothing, little man. I fear nothing," she replied through gritted teeth, "Even the Doom of Avalon holds no sway upon my emotions. There is no fear."
"See that second point there I believe. The doom that you Avalonians always seem to chat about doesn't scare you, but she does."
Ayna leapt forwards as he started speaking, but as he finished his sentence she winced, allowing him to dip under the strike. As she tumbled past him he felt a bone blade shoot into his gut. He winced and swore as he pulled out the bone blade and sealed the wound with mana. "Stop talking," she growled, before sending another blade of bone at Jim and slashing his shoulder.
"I'm just telling you the truth Ayna," Jim replied, the smile never leaving his face as he slowly walked towards her.
"Stop. Talking."
"Oh and just so you know, I'm not a little man," he said with a wink.
"SHUT UP!" she screamed as she swung her hands in front of her, tearing the air apart. As Ayna fumed a bone claw the size of a building shot out of the rend in space, slamming into Jim and crushing him against the nearest wall. She growled and turned to face the ongoing melee around her, her blue-violet eyes drooping with lethargy, while the bone piercings that littered her ears and face shattered into dust.
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