The armor sealed around my face.
Stone plates slid over my jaw, my cheeks, my forehead. The last piece- a helmet of grey rock with lava veins crawling across the crown- settled into place with a soft thunk. Darkness for half a heartbeat. Then the world exploded into light.
Not sunlight. Not torchlight.
'Mana.'
I saw it everywhere. Flowing through the air like invisible rivers, pooling in the corners of the chamber, swirling around the Guilders like cloaks of smoke. The silver-haired woman had a dense knot of it in her chest- bright blue, pulsing with each heartbeat. Perfect Hair had less, but it was sharper, more focused, coiled around his sword arm like a serpent.
The walls of the cave glowed with ancient, dormant mana- thick and slow, like honey that had been sitting for centuries. The pedestal beneath me was a geyser of it, pumping up from deep underground, feeding into the armor like blood into a heart.
'Is this how Forfor sees the world?' I thought. 'Is this what magic looks like?'
No wonder he was always counting. The numbers must have been everywhere.
The Guilders stared at me. Their faces were pale in the orange glow. The man with the lightning sword had frozen mid-charge, his blade crackling uselessly.
"What is that thing?" someone whispered.
"Ancient artifact," another answered. "Has to be."
Perfect Hair's smile had finally disappeared. His eyes darted from the armor to my face- or where my face used to be- and back again. "Kill him," he said. "Before it fully bonds."
The lightning sword came at my chest.
I didn't move. I didn't need to.
The armor moved for me.
My right arm- no, its right arm- rose. Stone gauntlet open. Lava flowing between the fingers. The lightning sword struck my palm and stopped. Not blocked. Stopped, like it had hit a wall of solid rock. The electricity arced across my fingers, harmless, absorbed into the lava like water into sand.
The Guilder stared at his sword. Then at me. Then back at his sword.
"That's not possible," he said.
The armor squeezed.
The sword shattered. Shards of glowing metal flew in every direction. One embedded itself in the Guilder's shoulder. He screamed and fell backward, clutching the wound.
The armor spoke.
Not in my head this time. Out loud. From the helmet, from the chestplate, from every stone plate at once. A voice like grinding boulders and flowing magma. Everyone in the chamber heard it.
"IS THIS THE BEST THE SKY-BEASTS SEND AGAINST ME? A BOY WITH A SPARK?"
Perfect Hair took a step back. "Sky-beasts? What are you-"
"I HAVE FOUGHT DRAGONS THAT BLOTTED OUT THE SUN. I HAVE BROKEN THE TEETH OF WYVERNS THAT CRUSHED MOUNTAINS. AND NOW YOU SEND... THIS." The armor flexed my fingers. "INSULTING. TRULY INSULTING."
'I didn't send anyone,' I thought. 'I'm just the guy who got cornered.'
The armor ignored me.
"VERY WELL. I SHALL INDULGE YOU. COME, LITTLE SPARKS. SHOW ME WHAT PASSES FOR COURAGE IN THIS SOFT AGE."
The silver-haired woman raised her staff. "Focus fire! It's just one suit of armor!"
The Guilders hesitated. Then training took over. Three of them raised hands glowing with magic. Two more drew bows with arrows that hummed. Perfect Hair stepped back, his sword blazing.
The armor laughed. A deep, rumbling sound that shook dust from the ceiling.
"THEY PREPARE TO BOMBARD ME. HOW SWEET. HOW NAIVE."
'Can we focus?' I thought. 'They're about to kill us- me- whatever.'
"US? THERE IS NO "US." YOU ARE THE PASSENGER. I AM THE DRIVER. NOW BE QUIET WHILE I WORK."
The first volley came. Fireball. Ice lance. Lightning bolt. Three arrows of solid light. All of them aimed at my chest.
The armor raised my left hand. Lava burst from the palm, forming a shield- round, rippling, hotter than anything I'd ever felt. The fireball splashed against it and evaporated. The ice lance turned to steam. The lightning bolt grounded itself into the floor. The light arrows dissolved mid-flight.
"What the fuck," someone said.
"A DECENT WARM-UP. NOW WATCH."
The armor dropped the lava shield. My right hand opened. And from the palm, a blade began to form.
Not a sword I held. A sword made of me. Lava poured from the stone gauntlet, shaping itself into a long, curved blade- single-edged, slightly tapered, with veins of brighter orange running down the center. The hilt was solid rock, molded perfectly to my grip. The blade dripped molten stone onto the cave floor, where it sizzled and smoked.
"I CALL THIS ONE "SKY-RIPPER." FOR OBVIOUS REASONS."
'You just named it now,' I thought.
"OF COURSE I NAMED IT NOW. THE OLD ONE WAS LOST THREE CENTURIES AGO. I AM ALLOWED TO GRIEVE."
The Guilders didn't wait for the conversation to end. The silver-haired woman slammed her staff into the ground. Chains of light- the same ones that had bound Pit- erupted toward me.
The armor flicked Sky-Ripper.
The blade passed through the chains like they were made of smoke. No resistance. No flash. Just a clean, silent cut. The light shattered into fragments that rained down like dying fireflies.
"LIGHT CHAINS. HOW QUAINT. THE SKY-BEASTS USED THOSE TO TETHER THEIR FLYING FORTRESSES. I BROKE THEM WITH MY BARE FLESHY HANDS."
'You have stone hands,' I thought.
"METAPHORICALLY."
Perfect Hair finally moved. He lunged- not at my chest, but at my legs. Smart. Go for the joints. His sword blazed gold, trailing light like a comet's tail.
The armor stepped aside. Not fast. Just... precisely. Perfect Hair's sword passed through empty air. He stumbled, off balance.
The armor didn't strike. It just watched.
"YOUR FORM IS SLOPPY. YOUR FOOTWORK IS LAZY. AND YOUR SWORD RELIES TOO MUCH ON ITS ENCHANTMENT. DID NO ONE TEACH YOU PROPERLY?"
"I was trained by the Luminous Guild's finest," Perfect Hair spat, recovering his stance.
"THEN THE FINEST HAVE BECOME MEDIOCRE. A SHAME. THE GUILDS OF OLD WOULD WEEP."
The silver-haired woman tried again. This time, she didn't bother with chains. She raised her staff high, and a sphere of pure white light formed above her head- dense, humming, growing larger by the second.
"AH. A MANA NUKE. NOW THAT IS MORE LIKE IT."
'A WHAT?!' I thought. 'She's going to blow up the cave!'
"RELAX. I HAVE DEALT WITH THESE BEFORE. WATCH."
The armor raised Sky-Ripper. The lava blade pulsed brighter. Then the armor pushed.
A wave of heat erupted from the sword- not fire, not magic, just pressure. The silver-haired woman's sphere destabilized. The light flickered, wobbled, then collapsed inward. She screamed as her own spell backfired, throwing her across the chamber. She hit the wall and slid down, unconscious.
"MANA NUKE. MORE LIKE MANA PUKE. AMATEUR HOUR."
'Did you just make a pun?'
"I HAVE BEEN TRAPPED IN A CAVE FOR CENTURIES. I AM ALLOWED TO BE RUSTY."
The remaining Guilders- four of them, plus Perfect Hair- formed a defensive circle. Their weapons were raised, but their hands were shaking. The heat in the chamber was becoming unbearable. I could see sweat dripping off their faces, sizzling as it hit the floor. Two of the weaker ones- the grunt with the spear and a girl who couldn't be older than Tinky- had to reinforce themselves with visible mana cloaks just to stay conscious. The air shimmered around them like a desert mirage.
"Retreat," Perfect Hair said through gritted teeth. "We need to regroup."
"RETREAT? BUT WE HAVE ONLY JUST BEGUN."
"Fall back! Now!"
The Guilders didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled toward the tunnel, dragging their wounded, not looking back. Perfect Hair was the last to go. He paused at the tunnel entrance, his eyes fixed on me- on the armor- with an expression I couldn't read. Fear? Awe? Envy?
"Is that some ancient legendary artifact?" he murmured. "Lucky bastard."
Then he was gone.
The chamber fell silent.
The armor stood still for a long moment. Then it- I? -cracked its back. Stone plates ground against each other. Lava veins pulsed.
"AH. THAT FEELS BETTER. CENTURIES OF STANDING ON THAT PEDESTAL. MY JOINTS WERE STIFF."
'You're a suit of armor,' I thought. 'You don't have joints.'
"I HAVE JOINTS IN THE METAPHORICAL SENSE."
'That's not a thing.'
"IT IS NOW. ALSO, YOU ARE THINKING VERY LOUDLY. I CAN HEAR EVERYTHING."
I tried to quiet my mind. It didn't work.
'Who- what- are you?'
The armor turned my head. I saw the tunnel- the mana flows shifting as the Guilders fled. I saw the cave walls, ancient and thick with dormant power. I saw the pedestal, now empty, still pulsing with the mana that had fed the armor for so long.
"I AM THE HERO OF THE SKY-WARS. THE DRAGON-SLAYER. THE BANE OF THE WINGED ONES. I HAVE WORN THIS ARMOR FOR SO LONG THAT I HAVE BECOME IT. OR IT HAS BECOME ME. THE DISTINCTION IS... MURKY."
'You're... a person? Trapped in the armor?'
"I AM THE ARMOR. THE ARMOR IS ME. WE ARE ONE. AND YOU, LITTLE COWARD, ARE NOW MY... COMPANION. YES. THAT IS THE WORD."
'I didn't agree to this.'
"YOU TOUCHED ME. THAT WAS AGREEMENT ENOUGH."
I wanted to argue. But the armor was already moving. My legs- its legs- carried me toward the tunnel. The lava sword dripped molten stone as we walked, leaving smoking holes in the cave floor.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING?"
'I don't know. You're the one walking.'
"I MEANT METAPHORICALLY. WHERE DO YOU WISH TO GO? WHAT IS YOUR QUEST?"
'I don't have a quest. I just want to survive.'
"A POOR AMBITION. BUT A STARTING POINT. VERY WELL. I SHALL HELP YOU SURVIVE. AND PERHAPS, ALONG THE WAY, YOU WILL BECOME WORTHY OF MY LEGACY."
'Worthy? I'm a bandit.'
"I ONCE FOUGHT ALONGSIDE THIEVES AND CUTTHROATS. THE SKY-BEASTS DID NOT DISCRIMINATE. NEITHER DID I."
We reached the tunnel entrance. The grey light of the forest was blinding after the orange glow of the chamber. The armor didn't hesitate. It stepped out into the open.
The forest looked different now.
I could see the mana in everything. The trees had slow, deep currents flowing through their trunks- old mana, patient mana. The soil had a thin layer of it, like morning dew. The sky- the sky- was crisscrossed with invisible rivers of power, flowing from horizon to horizon, connecting everything.
'Is this what Forfor sees?' I thought, again. 'Is this why he's always counting?'
"NO. YOUR COMPANION- THE ONE IN THE RAGS- HE SEES NUMBERS. PROBABILITIES. FRACTURES IN THE FABRIC. YOU SEE FLOW. IT IS A DIFFERENT GIFT. ONE I HAVE NOT ENCOUNTERED IN... A LONG TIME."
'I don't want a gift. I just want to find my crew.'
"THEN WE SHALL FIND THEM. BUT FIRST..."
The armor turned my head toward the trees. The Guilders had regrouped about fifty yards away, behind a ridge of fallen logs. I could see their mana signatures- eight of them, maybe nine. Perfect Hair's was the sharpest. The silver-haired woman's was dim but steady. The others were scattered, wounded, afraid.
"...WE SHOULD DEAL WITH THEM."
'I thought they retreated.'
"THEY RETREATED TO REGROUP. NOW THEY ARE PLANNING A SECOND ATTACK. WATCH."
The armor raised my hand. A small sphere of lava formed above my palm- no bigger than a marble. It pulsed gently.
"I SHALL SEND THEM A MESSAGE."
'What kind of message?'
"A LOUD ONE."
The sphere shot into the air. It rose higher and higher, a tiny orange dot against the grey sky. Then it exploded.
The blast was not loud. It was everything. A wave of heat and pressure and light erupted from the center of the explosion, expanding outward in a perfect circle. Trees bent. Leaves turned to ash mid-air. The ground shook.
The Guilders' mana signatures flickered. Some went dark entirely- unconscious, maybe. Others dimmed to almost nothing. Perfect Hair's sharp light wavered but held.
When the blast faded, a crater stood where the ridge of logs had been. The trees around it were scorched black. The air smelled of cooked earth.
"THAT SHOULD DISCOURAGE THEM."
'You could have killed them!'
"I COULD HAVE. I DID NOT. THE BLAST WAS PURE HEAT. IT DISORIENTS. IT DOES NOT KILL UNLESS I WISH IT TO."
'How do I know you're telling the truth?'
"YOU DO NOT. BUT YOU ARE STILL HERE. AND SO ARE THEY."
The armor was right. The Guilders' mana signatures were still there- weak, scattered, but alive. I watched them retreat properly this time, dragging each other into the deeper forest, their lights fading into the distance.
The armor lowered my hand. The lava sword dissolved back into my palm, absorbed into the stone.
"THAT WAS SATISFYING. IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG SINCE I HAVE FELT THE RUSH OF COMBAT."
'That wasn't combat. That was bullying.'
"YES. AND IT WAS WONDERFUL."
I tried to move my arm. Nothing happened. The armor was still in control.
'Can you... let me move?'
"YOU CAN MOVE WHEN I SAY YOU CAN MOVE."
'That's not fair.'
"FAIRNESS IS FOR CHILDREN AND SKY-BEASTS. I AM NEITHER."
I focused. Tried to lift my other arm. Nothing. Tried to turn my head. Nothing. The armor was a cage of stone and lava, and I was the prisoner.
'Please.'
A pause. The armor's voice softened- or as much as a grinding boulder could soften.
"...VERY WELL. BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU SAID "PLEASE." MOST OF MY PREVIOUS WEARERS WERE LESS POLITE."
The tension in my limbs released. I could move again. I lifted my stone-covered hand and looked at it- grey rock, orange veins, lava flowing between the fingers.
'This is insane.'
"YES. BUT IT IS ALSO HAPPENING. NOW, WHAT IS OUR NEXT MOVE?"
'I need to find my crew. The others. They might be hurt. Or captured.'
"THE ONES YOU LEFT BEHIND."
The words stung.
'I didn't leave them. I ran. There's a difference.'
"IS THERE?"
I didn't have an answer. The armor was right. I had run. I always ran. Tinky was still out there. Pit was still chained. Jinx, Mole, the twins- all of them scattered or captured or worse.
And I had run.
"YOU ARE THINKING LOUDLY AGAIN."
'I know.'
"YOU FEEL GUILT. THAT IS GOOD. GUILT MEANS YOU HAVE A CONSCIENCE. MANY OF MY PREVIOUS WEARERS LACKED THAT."
'What happened to them?'
"THEY DIED. MOSTLY. THE ONES WHO LIVED BECAME KINGS OR MONSTERS. SOMETIMES BOTH."
'And the ones who felt guilt?'
The armor was quiet for a moment.
"THEY DIED TOO. BUT THEY DIED BETTER."
I stood in the scorched clearing, surrounded by ash and silence. The forest was recovering- mana flows already seeping back into the damaged soil, the burned trees already sending out tiny shoots of new growth. The world healed fast when magic was involved.
'I should go back to camp,' I thought. 'See if anyone else made it.'
"THEN GO."
'But... what if they don't recognize me? What if they see the armor and attack?'
"THEN I WILL DEFEND US."
'I don't want to fight my own crew.'
"THEN TELL THEM NOT TO ATTACK."
'It's not that simple.'
"IT IS EXACTLY THAT SIMPLE. WORDS ARE WORDS. IF THEY ATTACK AFTER YOU SPEAK, THAT IS THEIR CHOICE, NOT YOURS."
The armor made it sound easy. But nothing was easy. Not anymore.
I thought about Tinky. How he'd looked at me as I ran- not with anger, not with betrayal. Just... confusion. Like he couldn't understand why I was leaving.
I thought about Pit. Chained to the ground. Not moving. Not speaking. Just lying there, waiting.
I thought about Forfor. Gone. Disappeared. Like he always did.
And I thought about the Guilders. Their perfect armor. Their easy smiles. The way they'd laughed as they hunted me.
'What if the armor changes me?' I thought. 'What if I become like them?'
"YOU WILL NOT BECOME LIKE THEM. YOU ARE TOO AFRAID FOR THAT."
'Is that supposed to be comforting?'
"IT IS THE TRUTH. FEAR IS NOT WEAKNESS. FEAR IS A TOOL. IT KEEPS YOU ALIVE. IT KEEPS YOU HUMAN. THE DAY YOU STOP BEING AFRAID IS THE DAY YOU BECOME A MONSTER."
I stared at my stone hands. The lava pulsed gently, in time with my heartbeat.
'Okay,' I thought. 'Let's go back to camp.'
"FINALLY. A DECISION."
The armor began to walk. My legs moved with it- not fighting, just... following. One step at a time. Back through the forest. Back toward the broken cart. Back toward whatever was left of my crew.
"I SHOULD WARN YOU," the armor said as we walked, "I TEND TO TALK. A LOT. ESPECIALLY DURING BATTLES. IT ANNOYS MOST PEOPLE."
'I noticed.'
"GOOD. THEN YOU ARE PREPARED."
'I'm not prepared for any of this.'
"NO ONE EVER IS. THAT IS THE POINT."
The forest parted around us. The mana flows shifted, responding to the armor's presence. The animals- the few that hadn't fled- watched us pass with wide, silent eyes.
I was wearing a suit of ancient armor that thought it was a hero. I had just fought off a squad of Guilders with a lava sword. And I was walking back to a camp full of bandits who probably thought I was dead.
'This is insane,' I thought again.
"YES. BUT IT IS ALSO HAPPENING."
The armor's voice was almost cheerful.
"NOW. TELL ME MORE ABOUT THIS "GREATER GOOD" YOUR CREW KEEPS MENTIONING. I HAVE OPINIONS."
'Of course you do.'
"MANY OPINIONS. MOST OF THEM LOUD."
I sighed. Or tried to. The helmet didn't move.
'This is going to be a long walk.'
"THE BEST WALKS ALWAYS ARE."
The forest thinned. The smell of smoke grew stronger. Not from the fireball- something else. Something older.
And ahead, through the trees, I saw the glow of a campfire.
My campfire.
Someone had made it back.
'Tinky,' I thought. 'Please be Tinky.'
"WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE?"
'I don't know. Anyone. No one.'
"HOPE IS A DANGEROUS THING."
'I know.'
"GOOD. THEN YOU ARE PREPARED FOR DISAPPOINTMENT."
'You keep saying that.'
"BECAUSE IT KEEPS BEING TRUE."
I stepped out of the trees and into the clearing.