Wielder

Chapter 14 - Out of Hiding

If Alie had known that a million screeching Evil were going to pour out of the shadow at the end of the street like a collapsed dam, she never would have followed the eerie whistle of magic's absence. Truthfully, she would have ignored the sound completely, except that the Ultimate had tugged her toward it. She had investigated out of obligation to her duty as its Wielder. 

   Now she regretted it. 

   The magic of the blade hummed as she swept it back and forth, struggling to keep back the relentless force of the Evil throng. They pooled around her feet and scratched against her cheeks. They perished instantly under the touch of the Ultimate, but that meant little against their numbers. 

   Her imagination held shields in place around the main section of the street, forcing the blobs to stream out of the little hole directly in front of her. The rest of them pressed up against her shield, their masses rising higher and higher. 

   Her muscles ached as she struggled to swing. What she lacked was speed. But with her breath burning in her throat and all her concentration focused on her task, she didn't have much left to give. 

   Michael had pulled out his pistol. He fired round after round into the upper reaches of the Evil, trying to keep them under control enough that they wouldn't spill over the top of the shield. 

   Behind her, the merchants cried out in alarm and fear. They abandoned the last of their packing, racing to the shelter of the nearest building. Someone called out for additional help. 

   She didn't have a chance to turn around to see if help was on its way. The Evil were relentless. Striking one down gave another an opening to latch onto her ankle. Killing that one gave two others the opportunity to grab onto her vest. Her clothes helped protect her, but she could still feel the weight of the Evil trying to drag her down. 

   Growling in frustration, she reached out to the magic of the Ultimate. Though she could feel its promptings, spurning her onward, it had not yet overtaken her as it had in the Unknown World. She could really use that extra help now. 

   The magic responded by snaking golden streams of light around her hand and up her arm. It did not control her; rather, it guided her. Where before she smashed down on each Evil like a game of whack-a-mole, it turned her energy to more subtle movements. A flick of her wrist could just as easily – and just as forcefully – destroy a blob. It took her a few moments to understand its guidance. But, once she did, she became a blinding force. 

   The Ultimate hummed as it swept through the air, slashing and smashing with skilled precision. Her weary arms thanked her as she focused her motions on milder movements, letting the weight of the blade do the brunt of the work. Evil perished around her. Soon the stream of them became a manageable force, to the point that it felt almost like a game to smash them to bits. 

   She laughed. She couldn't help it. The triumph of her success brought such joy bubbling up her throat that she felt giddy. She was fighting a countless army of death incarnate. And she was winning.

   Well, she was winning only as long as she could control the majority of the force behind her wall of magic. She stole a quick glance to it, checking for any cracks or weaknesses. 

   The Evil were about to spill over the top. 

   Okay, that was a problem. With a wave of her hand, she plugged up the hole the blobs had been streaming through, and sent a cover of magic across the roofline of the adjacent buildings to trap the Evil. 

   Michael's pistol sent wave after wave of plasma energy into the Evil masses. "This isn't working," he said breathlessly. "We need something more destructive."