Chapter Fifty-Seven – Storm – Part Two

The threads of fate weave in mysterious ways, especially around those who have been blessed.

- Seventh Passage of the First Testament of Goddess Jaledi of the Mosei -

There are nine of us left, not a soul amongst us speaks though. All of our eyes are on the horizon, on the impending doom that comes for our weary spirits. We've been on this world for weeks, and the ones with Fisban know less than us, so for them, they must feel like fate truly despises them. A point that I can't really disagree with as the swells of the ocean waves become higher.

"Take down the sail," Fisban says, breaking the silence, "We can't afford to lose it."

Most of our clothes, save our underwear, is tied into the sail, mixed with the clothes of those that Fisban dispatched. We do as she asks.

The waves are rising higher, and the storm is approaching faster.

"Check knots!" Fisban yells.

Something we've been doing daily. The wind begins to howl within a few more minutes. The ocean waves are starting to cross into squares with the wind, I remember our nautical navigation instructor telling us that was a bad sign. Fear rides our shoulders as we brace for what is to come.

***

The crashing waves and screams from Verantha pull my mind to focus. The mast of our raft groans as the wind swallows my thoughts. We aren't even in the worst of it yet.

"Tie off!" Fisban yells, lashing herself to the raft.

We had managed to lower the sail before the storm struck us, but it cracks in the gale of wind that strikes, having come undone from the ties. Warm salt water dipped air slaps against us with the waves, so much so that everything is awash in it. The water is caked in foam and despair. Plants from the reef less than a thousand meters off press to the surface. Tangles of slippery life slide across the logs of the raft.

"Hold it steady!" Fisban yells, her shades long gone, taken by the churn that rises around us.

"We're all going to die!" Verantha yells, "We're…"

Warm salt water crashes against her. It's the cleanest she's been in weeks I'd wager.

"Fuck… fuck… fuck…" Barlow says, holding the makeshift rope that has come undone. He desperately tries to tie it off with Tran and Gilroy, all while holding onto the raft.

It's a shitshow of biblical proportions. I can barely see around me, and the storm is only getting worse.

[ 1 x Wither Charge Gained ]

From who? Memories slam into my mind like a cruel mistress, it's from one of Fisban's remaining team, they drowned under the raft, clawing to get free, the rope they tied was too long. Another groan from the makeshift mast diverts my attention… it's swaying. The waters are becoming more steep with each swell. As we crest the top of one and slide into the next, I finally understand why Fisban made it so large. Were we on just a thin raft, we would have toppled long ago. Yet with the increased size, comes greater pressure of movement, more weight applied to the strings of makeshift ropes that are failing.

Thunder booms after lightning cracks.

"Help!" Verantha cries, struggling to stand, the waves smashing over her, forcing her to choke on the water, the knot on her rope is fraying. I try to grab at her, but her fingers keep slipping, the waves of water crushing over her and her bulging eyes. Panic is strewn across her face, and terror is written in her eyes.

"Please…. Help…"

The cord around her waist slips undone under the pressure of the next wave that crashes, pulling her into the churn. Without her… we're fucked, even if we survive this storm somehow.

My hand reaches out… Abyss explodes from it in long vines that hunt for her in the water. It's strange with time slowed as part of my consciousness travels down the vines, searching for her in the depths of the churn. Like the mana threads from healing skill, almost like the trance from it as well. I am lost in the waters as I spread, branching like roots in the salty ocean. Sound becomes softer as I search for her. Perhaps it is the mana that ebbs from her, or the subtle vibrations of thrashing limbs amongst the rashness of the waves, but I find her. The vines close around her, pulling her from the depths and dragging her into my arm.

Her eyes are wide as she coughs up water. Parts of the raft are breaking away, smacking and slamming. People are barely hanging on, the cords we crafted were never intended for such punishments, even the triple-braided ones we used for the craft are failing everywhere I look. We're going to die if I do nothing. I can barely keep a grip on Verantha.

The next wave crashes. Pulling Barlow, and Tran. My hand extends outward, and the vines grip them, pulling them close, wrapping the four of us in a bundle. The draw of mana is greater when I control Abyss compared to when it does what it wants.

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"Shit… Shit… Shit…" Gilroy bellows, pawing at the slippery logs.

My own bracing snaps under the pressure of all of us, Abyss automatically wraps itself around a log beneath me, sensing my demise. Nearly dislocating my shoulder at the abrupt pull. The next wave does tear my shoulder from the socket though, I feel the vines wrapping and coiling, twisting and turning to wrap me and the others like a root system.

It hurts, but I won't release it, I can't. If I tell Abyss to stop, we're all dead.

Fisban slips next, her cord attached to a log that is no longer part of the raft. A single vine erupts from the tangle. Wrapping around her ankle and pulling her, she screams in pain as the cord around her waist goes taut, her knot tied better than the rest of ours. My blood runs cold as I feel through the connection of the vine, her back breaking under the strain of the log pulling her. If Abyss hadn't anchored to the remaining raft, my entire shoulder would have come clean off. Another log pulls from the craft, crushing her between two before it slides away.

The strain on my mana is becoming higher. I feel a tremor in the vine connected to Fisban as she manages to cut free from the cord, I pull her swiftly into our bundle. Fisban's legs flop uselessly in the howling wind, and blood streams from her mouth. I have everyone I think. But I'm barely hanging on… I feel my mana drying up, it's harder to control Abyss without moving my fingers, the arm that holds Abyss is dislocated at all the joints, it's all mental commands now. My mental grip on the vines is slipping away. Just as my mana reaches near empty, I get a popup.

[ Mana Insufficient… Converting Alternate Fuel Source ]

My spine tingles as it begins to exchange Wither Charges, but I barely feel it against the savage waves that nearly drown us with each crash. We're going to die here, we're going to… no… not like this. Through the gales of wind, I see something in the distance, a small island or a rock formation, I don't know. Pulling a vine from the tangle of Abyss with my free hand… okay… I can do this. Become the vine.

Time slows as I ebb into the lengthening tendril of Abyss. Faster… faster… move faster. The vine stretches further and further, and I feel more Wither Charges leaving my body. I grab and pull at the reef beneath the surface, straining against it with the will of my mind. The reef breaks again and again until I find purchase in a larger section, heaving us one meter at a time. I can't take the raft with us… it's too heavy, the Charges are burning too fast. I command Abyss to release the raft, and it jerks free.

There are screams all around me, people fighting to stay above the water, and I pull… with everything I am, I pull.

[ 1 x Wither Charge Gained ]

Another of Fisban's people… gone, sunken to the bottom of the tangle, face grated off against the reef as we pulled across it... until the top of their skull was caved in.

Keep going… don't stop… you cannot stop.

My legs scrape against the reef as we draw closer. The winds are less abrasive here, we're near the eye of the storm, I can see as much looking upwards. Land… with rocks jutting up all over it, in the distance I see it, we're almost there.

Pull… extend… pull… do not stop.

The vines release as the last charge depletes. Leaving me almost bare of mana and energy.

"Come on!" Barlow yells, grabbing Gilroy who's unconscious… shit.

We manage to make it to shore, Tran and Jericho dragging Fisban behind them. My arm throbs, my legs are bleeding from the reef, and the bottom of my feet sting with the grit of sand against sundered flesh.

Gilroy isn't breathing, his lips are blue. I can't do chest compressions without my other arm, not as well as Barlow.

"CPR!" I yell at Barlow.

He nods, blinking back the panic. He starts, ribs cracking as he pushes to the proper depth… thank fuck he paid attention during my combat lifesaver classes.

"Please," I breathe, looking down at Gilroy, "Don't become another memory."

After the next set of rescue breaths, Gilroy's abdomen tightens and water spews from his mouth as Barlow puts him on his side.

"Thank god," Barlow says, his hands are shaking.

Our work isn't done yet. I turn to Fisban, crawling through the gritty sand toward her, my knees burning as small jagged shells cut into me. I don't have enough mana for Triage, but I can tell almost instantly that her back is broken in several places. It looks like her kidneys were pulverized by the tension and the logs crushing her, she has a rib inside her left lung, and blood is probably pooling in it. She's going to die, there's so much hemorrhaging. The only reason she's still alive is probably because she's a high level.

"Verantha, heal her!" I yell, spinning to face her.

Our Cleric isn't hearing me though, she's panicked, eyes bulging as she screams to the heavens for her goddess still, as though her mind is still beneath the waves. Fisban's eyes are flitting back and forth, she's losing consciousness. Fuck, everything is so fucked.

"Heal her!" Tran yells, using his free hand to slap Verantha right in the face.

She blinks, the panic settling for but a brief moment. Tran slaps her again, and again, each strike seems to bring sanity back into her eyes, replacing it with anger.

He moves to strike again, "Enough!" she screams.

She moves toward Fisban whose eyes are closed now, her heart barely beating.

"Are we sure that we want to let this murderous psychopath live?" Verantha asks, a cringe from her brow tells me her Goddess doesn't like her suggestion.

Tran looks her dead in the eyes, "A cleric that doesn't heal… sounds like a burden."

She gulps, blinking quickly.

"Goddess of Light, hear my prayer, thy humble follower beseeches thy Divine Blessing. Holy magic, blessing of Goddess Amaetha."

Bones crack and shuffle back into place, and blood pulls back to where it should be. Clerics really are overpowered compared to healers. I shake the thought. Fisban doesn't open her eyes though. That's not uncommon, especially after life-threatening injuries. Hell, Dorliac injected me with adrenaline to wake me up after Verantha stopped me from walking through death's door. I don't have that luxury with Fisban though, that's fine though, we're safe from the storm. We can figure out the rest later.

My arm hangs uselessly at my side, Tran gives a low growl and motions at it to Verantha.

"Chill out," Barlow says, shaking his head at Tran.

***

We managed to find a cave a little further up the land, underneath the large stone formation that I had seen in the distance before. We've taken refuge here while the storm continues.

Verantha healed my shoulder and the remaining injuries in the group, gouged skin from the reef, rope burns, and fractured bones mostly. She even refreshed my blessing before slumping against the cave wall, not sure if it was frayed nerves catching up with her, or some kind of mana cost. I still don't know how Cleric mana consumption works. Yet another question. At this point though, Verantha has seen Abyss, which means her future is uncertain when Fisban wakes up. I'm sure Jericho will be fine though, he's become Fisban's unofficial right-hand man since we got here. He's also the only survivor from her group. My face winces away the memories of the ones I failed to save.

The storm still howls outside, but it's not as bad near the eye of it. Looking at the map, we're still really far off from the objective. It's strange though, I can see the storm on the map, and the epicenter doesn't appear to be moving at all. Is something creating it? Or maybe, someone…

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