Page 22 of Phoenix Fated (The Phoenix Guardians #4)
AIROS
T here is no existing scroll or record that describes the devastating sight before us.
We are the first in this age to witness such calamity.
Umbrios's influence has gone beyond whispers in the darkness—his shadow is emerging in every corner of the world, and like an avalanche, it will grow faster and faster until it can no longer be stopped.
We have arrived at a great shift in the fate of Circeana.
The last remnants of this cycle of Aethereos are slipping away, and the path to extend it grows as narrow as a blade's edge.
We exchange a look, and I know we share the same thought—we have to defend the camp. Without speaking, we immediately sprint along the crest of the ridge.
"That means... Azin and Onar?" Jackson shouts to me.
"Given how far the Shimat has spread and how quickly it's moving, there's nothing we could have done. They slowed it down. Without them, it would have already overtaken the encampment."
Knowing this doesn't do much to lessen the impact of their sacrifice. Again, I can read what Jackson is thinking— Is there anything we could've done?
I want to take him in my arms and comfort him, though I know he would deny me. Perhaps that only makes me want him more.
Focus, Airos! Don't allow these thoughts to proceed any further!
It feels as though my defenses are being constantly tested now, over and over, at every weak spot.
What can I rely on to restore my resolve?
Your purpose is to keep him safe. Focus on that.
Yes. That's it. I could live a thousand lives and experience no greater honor than being his Guardian. I just need to keep him safe.
"There's no way through!" Jackson says as we hit the end of the ridge.
Below, the Shimat has already formed an impassable river, blocking the way to the encampment. There's no other choice but to tap into the little phoenix power I've regained and cover the distance by flight.
"Jackson, get on my back."
"Right," he says, and positions himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
I reach inside myself to touch the pool of phoenix energy and draw my other form to the surface, but the moment I do, there is a sudden change in the Shimat. It's like seeing a river halt mid-current. The black mass freezes completely.
"Uhh, I don't like that," Jackson says.
I don't either. It's like it's listening. Like a hunter, drawn by the presence of its prey.
It feels phoenix power.
Just as this thought forms in my mind, the Shimat shifts towards us and rises like a great tidal wave rolling across the desert. Tendrils stretch from its body like black water spouts, and I realize that there is no flying over this creature. It's coming for us, and we have to face it now.
Jackson moves to my side and takes a defiant stance. Together, we slide our feet into the first position of the shaman dance.
The Shimat is like an approaching storm, its size and power growing more apparent the closer it gets. The swell is like a mountain rising high into the sky, and at the very summit there is something that makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. Two figures perched on the wave.
"Oh God, " Jackson groans. "No..."
Looking at the suspended figures, I feel my blood turn to ice.
Azin and Onar hang limp in the Shimat's grasp, the upper halves of their heads encased in black orbs of corrupted water from the crown down to just below their noses.
The dark spheres pulse with a sickly rhythm, like diseased hearts beating against their skulls.
They're not dead. Their bodies twitch and jerk as if invisible strings are pulling at their limbs.
Then I realize with growing horror that the Shimat isn't just controlling them—it's feeding on them.
Drawing out their life force, their memories, their very essence to fuel its corruption.
"It's just like what happened with us and the elemental," says Jackson. "Airos, they're still in there. We can get them back."
I glance at Jackson uncertainly. Could he be right?
The dark Shimat slows its approach and lowers Azin and Onar down until they are level with our ridge, floating close enough that I can make out their faces through the dark water. Their eyes are closed, as though they're deep in sleep.
Then, a thought-like voice rises up in my mind.
Yes.
Jackson's eyes widen as he looks at me. "Did you hear that?"
They can be saved .
"I think the elemental may have done more than just quench our thirst," I say.
"It wants us to use it," Jackson tells me. "It's telling us it can help us."
Azin and Onar's mouths open in perfect unison and they speak in their guttural native tongue, but then something shifts. The words come haltingly, syllables stretched and twisted as the Shimat seems to search through their minds for our language.
"Give... give us... light. "
I feel the hungry intent of the corrupted elemental turn towards Jackson and the baby inside of him. Its sole purpose is to consume and drain the life from everything, and now it has sensed the purest source of power imaginable.
A tendril thrusts from the Shimat straight towards Jackson, and with only a second to spare, I summon my staff from the void and shield him with a wall of Gnosis energy.
It snares the tendril like a spider's web catching a giant hornet, just barely enough to slow it down.
Jackson's arm shoots up instinctively to defend himself, but instead of just blocking, something incredible happens—water erupts from his palm in a shimmering arc, forming a gleaming crystalline blade that slices clean through the attacking tendril.
Jackson stares at his hand, water still dripping from his fingers. "That's new."
The severed appendage crashes onto the sand with a wet thud, spurting black ichor as it writhes about. The water blade bursts into mist and envelops the writhing mass, and the black poison begins to fade, seeping away until only a puddle of clear, clean water remains.
The Shimat's surface trembles as it recoils from the strike, like a giant hand jerking away from a needle prick. It pulls Azin and Onar back as an eerie, toneless scream pours from their mouths.
I don't need to ask Jackson how he controlled the elemental; it rises from my consciousness, ready for my command.
The Shimat attacks again, this time with dozens of tendrils that whip towards us like the arms of a stinging anemone.
The elemental bursts from my palm, coiling around my staff and merging its power with mine as I unleash a storm of augmented Gnosis magic that explodes in the air like aqua lightning.
Ribbons of energy lance out and blast through the tendrils, severing them from the reaching blob.
They rain down in black chunks that hiss and steam as they hit the sand, the elemental's influence draining the corruption from each severed piece.
The Shimat lets out that terrible unified scream through Azin and Onar, and lifts them far out of our reach. Then it surges forward again, its massive form rushing up against the sides of the ridge. It's going to overwhelm us.
"Move!" I shout, grabbing Jackson's arm as we sprint along the narrow crest.
The Shimat flows faster than we can run, its surface bubbling and frothing as it climbs higher, reaching for our heels.
I cast my staff aside, and Jackson and I slam our feet into the sand, taking the first position of the shaman's dance.
With a deep breath we move together, and a rhythm emerges from the ether, its cadence aggressive and raw.
Like a wave crashing against a wall, the Shimat rears back and sprays up into the sky.
Its reaction to the dance is visceral, and I feel the clash of its energy as it fights to break free from our enchantment.
Then, a familiar presence joins the fray.
It's the water elemental, pulsing within us to the beat of our steps, adding its power to our movements.
Each pool of cleansed water from the Shimat glides across the sand towards us, drawn by the elemental's will.
They swirl around our feet, shaking and rippling with our stomps, then flow together into growing masses of pure azure water.
The elemental is building an army of itself.
It wants to fight alongside us and reclaim its greater body.
A dark vibration rolls through my chest like a shout from the god of thunder.
Looking up, I see Azin and Onar atop the black wave, crouched low, their torsos twisted and arms bent in a defiled variation of the dance.
Blobs of corruption drip from the wave onto the sand, and they slither towards us like black slugs.
Jackson and I swirl around each other, our mirrored movements building into a dizzying flurry.
The elemental responds, and it surges forward to meet the Shimat's army.
The impact sends tremors rippling through the desert floor beneath our feet.
The Shimat bubbles and hisses where the glowing clean water touches it, but it fights back with hundreds more tendrils that lash out like whips, trying to snare and drag the pieces of the elemental back inside of it.
Then, Jackson and I dash forward, still moving as one, and we summon our water weaponry and twirl about, slashing and severing tendril after tendril as they arc around us.
The Shimat rears up again, and then it crashes down with the force of a collapsing mountain.
Our borrowed power emerges as a great water shield, blocking the spray of corruption from searing our bodies, and our elemental surges forward to meet the Shimat with equal fury.
Geysers of pure water explode upward, shattering the face of the Shimat into a thousand black droplets that rain down around us.
"Hell yeah!" Jackson shouts, but our moment of victory is brief. Some of the black pools are cleansed by the elemental's touch, but many of them regather and surge forward, doubled in size, and begin to overtake the elemental's forces, corrupting them again.
It's clear that as it stands, we don't have the power to stop the Shimat. The water elemental is too small, and its power inside of us is only temporary. We need to cut to the heart of the Shimat where the corruption is rooted. We need to use our phoenix powers.