Garden of Madness - Chapter 3
Leviathan
“They say Hallowed are immune to the touch of Madness, but with each passing day, I am not so sure.”
The first rule for fighting a Leviathan is simple: Don’t.
The second rule is simple in theory, but nearly impossible in practice: Run.
Out on the open ocean, caught between Leviathan-infested water and the rocky cliffs that would smash their ship to pieces, their options were limited. Still, taking their chances with the cliffs was preferable.
Captain Emil snapped at the crew to get to their stations. “Get below deck, oars out! Row like your mother is dangling from the cliffs! Puncture the hull if you must, but get us out of the deep!
“The rest of you, toss everything overboard. Throw all the food behind us, leave a chum trail for the beast and see if it bites.” He was walking calmly up and down the deck, ordering his crew around while casting furtive glances out over his shoulder. The Leviathan churned the water as it set a direct line to intercept them. It would be a race to the entrance of Aliotas.
“What can we do?” Dram asked, standing beside an equally helpless Aevar.
“Alasce,” Emil answered. “As much of it as you have.”
“Dust and Echoes,” Aevar whispered. He was utterly still, a statue at the edge of the ship.
Dram turned and rushed below deck, focusing on what he could do rather than the enormity of what he could not. He rummaged through all their clothes, frantically looking for their store of Alasce while cursing their messy habits. Perhaps Senna had a point after all about the merit of everything having its place and staying there. Thinking of her lit a fire within him. Determination flared as he grasped the jar of Alasce. You don’t see her again unless you survive, he reminded himself while sprinting back up to the deck. The ship lurched with the increased speed and effort from the crew, rushing oars turning them nearly headlong toward the cliffs and the jagged rocks below.
They weren’t going to make it.
The Leviathan was too fast. Their heading into the narrow pass had been almost completely cut off. The crew was frantically pushing toward the cliffs, but it was clear they were hesitant to run aground unless absolutely necessary.
“I pray you know how to use that,” Emil chided as Dram presented the jar of Alasce.
“One way to find out.” Aevar was staring at the Leviathan as it altered its course to intercept them. “Dram, any thoughts?”
“Distance and distract. This isn’t a fight we can win; it’s a race. But we don’t have to play fair.” Emil and Aevar nodded as Dram explained the rest of his idea. The crew’s panic mounted as the Leviathan closed in on them.
“Right then,” Emil said. “Let’s see what kind of Hallowed you are.”
Aevar and Dram shared a glance, drawing strength and courage from one another. Then, Dram opened the jar.
***
Alasce was the faded remnants of the Spores of Madness. Akin but different. To Hallowed, Alasce was a conduit. It was the same power that broke minds and stripped souls, now waiting to revive the powers of the Gods.
Potential coursed through him as the Alasce touched the air. Looking over, he found the same look in Aevar’s eyes—the slight dilation, the easy tension of his posture. Gone was the fear they had been harboring moments before, burned out by the sudden endowment of power.
Though his own Blessing was not from Tritum, Dram could feel the pull Aevar placed on the water below them, the surge of energy moving from the Gods, through the Alasce, into Aevar, and out, finally, to the sea.
The Leviathan’s heading veered from the shallows, until it swam parallel to their own course. Aevar strained, breaking out in an acute sweat as the Alasce—originally stark white and nearly glowing—slowly turned dun. The gray bled down like water filtering through sand. The remnants of power gone with an echo, the Alasce gone back to dust.
The beast was thrashing against some invisible barrier, causing Aevar to wince with each beat. But he held it! Dram was so awed that he nearly forgot the next part of the plan.
“Let go!” Emil shouted.
Aevar did so immediately, the strain apparent about his shoulders.
Emil yelled at the crew to halt their rowing as the Leviathan threw itself once more to the side and found little resistance. The massive serpent was too long to make such a sharp turn. It passed them by, raising its head from the water as it turned slowly toward the cliffs. It was a beautiful thing, though terrible to behold. Yellow fins erupted from its head and down its back like the waves of the sea itself. The scales were turquoise, glittering in the light.
Captain Emil had the ship turn toward the Leviathan’s wake as the head of the creature rushed by them. He did not want the waves to catch them sideways and risk capsizing. Dram stared at the creature, admiring its beauty even as it let out a heart-wrenching wail.
Then he saw its eye, piercing black and full of anger.
Dram was up.
Breathing in, he reached out to the Alasce. It was like gripping the handle of a sword and making sure it felt balanced before a strike—he waited just a moment. Chaos raged all around, death on all sides—only he existed in the calm. His roots were deep, his feet assured.
The deck of the ship dimmed as Dram focused a band of sunlight into a searing ray, aiming it directly into the beast’s eye. Scales rippled as the Leviathan thrashed, their ship now pointed in the wrong direction: back out to open ocean. At least they were clear of the Leviathan.
Only, it hadn’t passed them entirely. It was far too long.
“Tail!”
Dram felt the tug of the Alasce back toward Aevar as his friend screamed. The tail broke the surface, the massive serpent writhing in the water in a way even the best of Dram’s plans couldn’t have accounted for. Flexed out like the wings of some great bird, the tail was larger than the ship, made of the same yellow fins that lined its spine. The crew rushed to change course and Aevar did his best to create a wall of water to shield them from the tail’s eventual fall.
And fall it did, the tip of it slamming onto the deck. Aevar’s wave quenched its fury by a degree and the ship held. As the ensuing wave threatened to tip them, Aevar rolled the water below, veering the prow back toward the pass. Dram had only a moment to be utterly impressed at Aevar’s abilities before it was his turn again.
“Row!”
Emil directed his crew toward the entrance to Aliotas, the harbor now almost visible as the sentry-like cliffs that stood guard over the sea parted ever so slightly. Dram stood at the back of the ship with Aevar, who was paler than normal and heaving in exhaustion. With a glance at the Alasce that was just over halfway gone, Dram breathed in once again.
The Leviathan had turned and now barreled toward them, faster than before. The oarsmen rowed for all they were worth.
Heat prickled Dram’s skin. Strings of light coalesced—they were his to command. He had blinded the creature’s right eye, so he focused on the left.
If asked to explain the exact dynamics of what he did he couldn’t have stammered more than a few words. The specifics were a matter for the scholars.
After all, sight is just the perception of light, and anything that is perceived can be altered.
Dram altered perception. He imagined the scene from the Leviathan’s perspective, the oars and the hull leading it toward its next meal. He willed that very meal away, toward the cliffs.
He wondered if others could see it. That ghostly ship that sailed off away from them as they progressed toward the Capital. Regardless, they kept rowing. The Leviathan steered itself after that ghostly ship. Dram carried it out as far as he could before the strain reached its crescendo and his concentration began to falter. Just before he let the image fall, he gave the ghost ship one final push into the shallows. His own vision began to blur; his head swam as he watched the Leviathan break the surface. Rows of jagged teeth parted as it dove headfirst into the dissipating image of that ship he had conjured.
It was the sound more than the sight that made him jump. It was thunder rolling over the ocean and up the cliffs of home. It was the crack and roar of boulders dropping from such great heights before breaking the glassy surface of the sea below.
The impact shook the world. Or was that the lingering effect of the Alasce strain? Beside him, Aevar mirrored his own fatigue. Still, they managed to aim smiles at one another.
“Well done,” Dram rasped, his throat unbelievably dry.
“Likewise.” Aevar limped over and closed the jar of Alasce that was almost completely gray now. He set it on the deck before steadying himself on Dram. They looked back to where the Leviathan slowly coiled in on itself in pain, screeching and writhing as the water around it darkened with inky ichor. They both swayed as the crew kept their furious pace toward the entrance to the Capital harbor. Now that the fear of the moment had passed, Dram could appreciate what he had just witnessed from his brother. Aevar had always been confident, but Dram was struck with a pang of something too close to jealousy. Aevar had held the beast off entirely. Dram’s own powers seemed to pale in comparison.
“Come on.” Aevar led them to the front of the ship, hanging onto the railing as they went. The crew still shouted, their oars slapping the water as they raced away from the tumult that had been created and ever closer to safety. Suddenly the water did not seem like such a bad place to be. The rays of the sun held Dram within a pool of heat he could not escape, skin prickling, chest rising with mounting panic. The world threatened to darken as he lost himself within his own thoughts. But before it could disappear completely, the feeling was washed away.
“Impressive,” Emil said, keeping his eyes trained on their course and sending signals by hand to his first mate. “Perhaps the Gods were right to Bless you both.”
Aevar bristled, but Dram spoke up. “We’ve arrived.” He nodded to their heading where the cliffs began to part, revealing a hint of the gleaming white beyond—the heart of the Empire.
“How much Alasce remains?” Emil asked.
“Not much.” Dram brought the jar up into view where a thin line of gleaming powder sat below the mass of dust, now dun and useless.
“What does it matter?” Aevar asked. “We killed—”
***
Weightless. That was all Dram could think. He sailed through the open air, for a moment knowing the freedom of birds.
Then came the gradual grip of gravity. His arc through the air flattened, reaching an apex between the cliffs on either side, between the sky and sea. He sailed and he spun, his brain a step behind his eyes.
Wood. Chipped and splintered. Flung through the air alongside him.
People. The crew was scattered just like the hull of the ship, thrown in every direction, faces all shades of shock. At least those ones were alive. Not all were so lucky.
Blood. There was so much of it, crimson life spattered across the entire scene while down below, the blue of the water was tinged with deep purple.
Dram’s brain caught up. The Leviathan. They had not killed it. Indeed, they had only enraged it beyond all reason. In the midday sunlight, the rocks lurked in the dark blue water below. It was far too shallow for the Leviathan to swim in. It didn’t care.
Dram’s stomach dropped as he picked up speed, angling straight for the water while the pristine city loomed uncaring in the distance. Beside him was the jar of Alasce, crushed open, the white powder mixed in with the dun dust. He caught a glimpse of Emil, eyes wide, falling to the water beside him. Then there was Aevar, straining against some unseen force.
There was a sudden wrenching in Dram’s gut.
A wall of water roared from behind them. It approached with the Leviathan’s own ire, but there was nothing he could do. Dram crashed through the surface.
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