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Monday, July 11, 2011

The Abyss Gazes Also (Fanfic)

The Abyss Gazes Also 

Or: A Summoner Has Disconnected

 One of the purple team's Summoners had a nosebleed or something during the initial summoning, that was the only possible explanation for the hold up.

 The three Champions were confined to the rune-inscribed 'fountain' platform, held in place by glowing white light while they waited for the match to begin. No amount of urging from their Summoners could force them out of place, even an inch. Even if they succeeded, that was against the rules; they'd lose by default.

 All six of them were, understandably, rather bored.

 She wondered idly what was running through Twitch and Alistar's minds - She generally didn't look that deep into Nocturne's, because She rather valued Her sanity. They worked well together, but He hated Her as He did all Summoners, and His mind was a treacherous, warped thing that had only become more horrible over His many eons of existence.

 "I remember you," His words came anyway, blood on black velvet, piercing the still quiet of the minutes before the match.

 She felt Her own physical eyes close, then open again. The statement had come as a bit of a surprise. "I would hope you did ...?" Honestly, she'd wondered - outside of a match, how well did the Champions remember the events that transpired within? She had trouble distinguishing which actions She performed and which the Champion did - She of course usually provided the will, intent, and a good deal of the magic, while the Champion generally provided the force and skill, but ....

 "From before all this," He sent the sensation of disembodied hands dragging his bladed arms down, forcing Him to kneel despite His obvious lack of legs, before the image shifted. "You had such vivid nightmares as a child," He murmured.

 She stilled, feeling the blood drain from Her skin. The world was dark for a moment. Intellectually, She knew this was still one of His abilities. Nocturne disrupted the enemy Summoners' link, cutting them off from each other, from their wards, from their minions, leaving them alone with their Champions - She'd commanded Him to use the ability enough times to know its effects. That didn't make the whispered, "All alone ..." any less chilling, however, especially as there was nowhere to run, no way.

 This shouldn't be possible. There were restrictions, there were rules, the match hadn't even begun. But it was a direct link between Summoner and Summoned. They meshed together completely, two halves of a whole, their minds completely open to one another. It was the only way the spell could work.

 Green tile, she remembered dully, staring up at the metal grating in the ceiling. The walls had been green tile. Six people, six ordinary people, seated on hard benches, chatting with each other while they waited for the experiment to begin, and none of them could sense what was wrong but her, with her tiny pinch of magic. None of them could see the white smoke billowing out of the grate, none of them could hear the hiss of air passing through a too-small opening.

 Neiomi Kohen half-hugged herself, shaking, a low moan dragged unwillingly from her own throat. There was a whispered laugh in the back of her mind, but she couldn't discern where it came from, nor why it was important.

The blonde woman was the first to start screaming. She was older than Neiomi by a few years, and Neiomi knew from their earlier conversation that she'd had three children. The test subjects were to be paid a modest sum of money for participating in this experimental "treatment," and the blonde had needed every clipped copper penny she could get to make ends meet. The whites of her eyes turned red as blood vessels popped, her skin bubbling up from underneath, melting. She clawed at her own face with fingers that had lost their flesh, becoming mere bone. They popped apart, sticking into the gooey mess where her cheeks had been.

Neiomi had done her very best to not inhale the smoke, flattening herself against the wall and covering her mouth and nose with her hands. She had a minute or two to watch the changes as they were wrought on the other test subjects before the fire began consuming her own flesh.

It was magic, seeping in through her pores, filling every inch of her small frame. She knew how to heal, and so, as the magic began to kill her body piece by piece, she took it in, warping it from its initial purpose, growing new muscle in place of the old, new skin to cover that. It was an agony her young mind had never known, could never have imagined, but she remained focused - the alternative was death.

When they finally came to review the results of their tampering, only a handful of minutes later, she was the only person left who was even remotely human - the rest were sticky, reddish puddles smeared across the walls and floor. Even their bones had liquefied.

She saw a man with a gas mask standing over her, and heard a faint, "This one's alive!"

And then ... and then ....

A gray-robed Summoner stood over her fallen form, waving something that smelled absolutely foul under her nose. "Your match is about to begin," he said quietly. "You lost the link with your Champion - are you well enough to cast?"

"... what?" Summoner, Champion? She hadn't - it all came rushing back, with the force of an angry battering ram, pulsing at the back of her skull.

The Summoner shook his head, gently pulling her off the ground since she didn't have the presence of mind to do that for herself. He checked the back of her head with his hand, and the pain flared white-hot.

"I'm all right, I'm all right - " She felt a new tingle of magic - the man was doing some sort of spell.

His kindly, gray-green eyes pierced her, and she fell silent. "I'm getting a healer to look over you. No casting until we know how bad it is - your friends will have to make do." He glanced at the other two Summoners, who were too deep in their respective links to know exactly what had happened.

"But ...."

The older, more powerful Summoner raised an eyebrow, showing her the blood on his hand. "No 'buts.' You hit your head ... apparently."

Any possible protest died in her throat.

She imagined she could hear Nocturne's soft laughter tingling at the back of her mind.

That, too, was impossible.

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