{Update: Ch 4 added} Acanthus: Soverign of thorns. Ch 1-4(Constructive criticism and ideas for improvement much appreciated.)
 

(Content warning: Vividly described scene of painful impalement.)

Acanthus:
Sovereign of thorns
Chapter one:
A new wielder

Briar sighed as he stared out the bus window into the dreary Sunday morning. Not only was he being dragged to a museum on the weekend, but it was six AM and raining steadily. Turning away from the foggy window he found himself glaring mutinously at Mrs. Percival, the event coordinator. She was sitting a few seats from the front of the bus, and was deep in conversation with one of the volunteer chaperones, so she didn’t notice the red rimmed glare of pure contempt boring into the back of her head. A small chuckle escaped Briar’s lips as he wondered if the force of his stare alone could light her grey hair on fire. She always seemed to be doing things like this, scheduling mandatory field trips to excessively boring places seemed to give her some sort of sick pleasure, especially if she was able to put one on a weekend. Briar looked back out the window with an angry sigh and tried to bundle his grey hoodie tighter around his body, wishing he had thought to dress warmer that morning. Not only was it raining, but it was cold. With each exhale Briar made, the glass would fog up slightly and then clear again, only to repeat the process. But what else could be expected of early November, it was the first biting chill of late fall, a taste of the long winter months to come. The bus came to a jarring halt outside of a looming building accented with marble pillars. Briar stood and stretched, waiting for the queue of students ahead of him to exit the bus. Unfortunately, as Briar stepped forward to join the line of exiting students, someone violently slammed into his shoulder. Briar turned, his anger flaring and was greeted by the leering face of Alex Thomas.

“Oops, I didn’t see you there.”

Alex’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and he let out a malicious laugh as he pushed past Briar. Briar let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his sore shoulder as he joined the throng of students.

Alex had seemed to instinctively hate Briar from the second he laid eyes on him. Briar’s family had moved to the town of Bridestowe fairly recently and he was new to the school. So of course he was basically invisible, except apparently to Alex Thomas. Maybe people were kind of like magnets, and Alex was Briar’s exact polar opposite. Briar shook his head and stepped off the bus into the damp and chilly air. It smelled like wet concrete and wet dirt outside of the Museum, which in Briar’s opinion was actually a very nice smell, kind of refreshing and natural. As Mrs. Percival did a headcount and ushered everyone inside, Briar tried to maintain a safe distance from Alex. Seeing a chance at escape, Briar broke away from the flock and made a detour down a different area of the museum while everyone else was marveling at a replica of a T-Rex skeleton. All the while he defended his actions in his head, going through an imagined debate with a faceless teacher. He didn’t necessarily have to stay with the class; it wasn’t expressly stated in the rules. And as long as he was back outside when the bus was scheduled to leave he would be fine, No one would even notice he was gone. Briar scoffed at his morbidly unintentional joke, it seemed being invisible sometimes had advantages. Briar shoved his hands into his pockets and read the plaque introducing the exhibit he was in.

“Medieval artifacts exhibit:
The armor and weapons gathered here come from many times and places, some are even from the time of King Arthur! Enjoy!

All items in the exhibit have been authenticated by the Jeffersonian using carbon dating and or other approved methods of age verification.

Please refrain from touching anything in the exhibit. Thank you!”

Briar blinked, that was a sickeningly happy sign. Why did places like museums always think people enjoyed being talked to like a kindergartener? Dismissing the thought with a flick of his hair, Briar turned and began walking through the exhibit, glancing around apathetically. The first room in the exhibit consisted of wax mannequins dressed in moldering armor, posed as if they were frozen in the middle of an epic battle. This room held very little interest for him, and short of artistic vandalism there wasn’t anything fun to do, so he moved on quickly. The next room was far more interesting, for it held many examples of medieval torture devices, and was actually arranged to resemble a torture chamber. Two lines of red velvet rope supported in intervals by brass stands, akin to what you see in old movie theaters, separated viewers from the devices. Behind the rope, an iron maiden stood menacingly with its rusted door hanging slightly open. Briar leaned out and stretched his arm over the rope trying to poke one of the spikes protruding from the inside, but they were just barely out of his reach. Briar sighed and examined some of the other, less interesting pieces, but eventually became bored with the torture chamber and moved to the next section of the exhibit. This room was genuinely intriguing; he seemed to have moved out of the “Medieval” section and into the “Mythical” section. Artifacts, talismans, and armor were spread out around the room. Some were replicas, and some claimed to be the real thing. Most stood in open air against the wall, a thin chain the only thing separating them from onlookers, and others were encased in glass display cases, scattered throughout the floor like the stumps of a blocky forest. Each artifact had a plaque detailing the myth surrounding it. Briar glanced around and noticed a glass case to his left held a replica of the spear of Longinus. As he stared into the case he noticed his reflection staring back at him, and he hastily combed his fingers through his hair, which had begun to puff up from the moisture. Briar had always had very strange hair; it was pure white, completely devoid of pigment. This had baffled doctors throughout his life, as his father possessed black hair and his mother brown. His hair also grew very strangely; everything but his bangs grew very slowly, keeping it perpetually short, and after it got to a certain length it stubbornly refused to grow any more. And Briar accepted this; some people just couldn’t have long hair. The only inconsistency was his bangs, which grew in two thick tendrils on either side of his face, tapering to a point around his shoulders. Another strange attribute of his hairstyle presented itself in a cowlick right between his bangs. The cowlick consisted of two tendrils of hair, about as thick and long as his pinky finger, which stood up almost completely vertical. No amount of brushing, styling, or gel could persuade his hair to look any different; his parents had learned this ages ago and grudgingly given up hope. Briar’s hair color and odd hairstyle often made him an object of interest for the first few days of any school year, but people soon lost interest and allowed him to fade back into the background. As Briar glanced up from the case, a particularly wicked piece of decorative armor caught his attention. It appeared to be a very impractical and potentially painful chest plate for a suit of armor. Given its size it didn’t look like it could possibly cover your entire chest, and it was excessively sharp in the places it would cover. The metal shone a strange dark green in the light, and a red jewel was set into a spiky hexagon in the center. Briar arched an eyebrow, wondering how any sane person could possibly wear this in a real battle. He glanced down at the plaque under it, wondering if he’d find the answer there.

The Mantle (chest plate) of Acanthus.

This relatively obscure piece of armor was apparently used by Acanthus the Merciless in approximately 605AD. Acanthus was a bloodthirsty warrior who was rumored to be invincible on the battlefield, little is known as to exactly why this is, as no one ever survived a battle with him.

Acanthus died at the age of 37 (relatively old at that time.) of an unknown cause. At his funeral, this mantle apparently forced its way out of his chest, much to the shock and awe of the few friends and family that attended. To this day no one knows the secret of his prowess in battle, but this mantle may have something to do with it, surrounded by mystery as it is.

Did Acanthus have this piece of armor inside of his body as a last means of defense? Was he experimenting with mystical surgeries to augment his strength? Was it perhaps ceremonial masochism in service to a god or demon?

These are only a few questions that may never be answered.

Date forged:

Unknown

Origin:

Unknown

Briar’s jaw literally dropped.

“It was inside him!? That is frickin creepy.”

Briar took a last quizzical look at the mantle before turning to move on. He stopped suddenly in mid-step and looked back, directly at the jewel. Did that mantle just wink at me? Briar leaned closer, looking directly into the red jewel. Now that he thought about it, it did kind of look like an eye. There was this black slit, probably a defect in the crystal, which looked kind of like a cat’s pupil. It must have been a trick of the light, of course. I’m just spooked because I’m all alone and that story was really disturbing. Briar turned and started to leave again, but turned back. For some reason he was strangely drawn to the creepy piece of armor. He kind of wanted to touch it, and it was just sitting there on a stand, out in the open air. Briar gripped the velvet rope separating him from the Mantle, his palm starting to sweat. He looked back and forth down the corridor, making sure it was completely deserted, then quickly hopped over the rope and approached the stand the mantle was sitting on. He began reaching out a tentative finger to poke it, and jumped almost a foot in the air when a violent peal of thunder shook the building. The lights overhead flickered for a few seconds before going out all together. Briar heard a distant scream of fright and many muffled voices and shuffling from the main building. Briar reached out again, thankful for this opportunity, and stroked the metal with his finger. The metal was strangely warm to the touch, and almost seemed to be pulsing. But I’m probably just feeling my own pulse beat against it… His heart was certainly beating pretty fast. Briar looked around again, feeling sweat starting to collect on his brow. He reached out and lifted the mantle carefully off of its stand, and found it to be surprisingly light, it didn’t even seem like it was made of metal. Flipping it around, Briar gazed at the other side. The inside, surprisingly, had two rows of spikes, kind of like teeth. Ok, there was no way anyone could wear this thing comfortably. And then Briar remembered.

“Oh yeah… it wasn’t on him, it was inside him…”

Briar chuckled nervously and started to put the mantle back on its stand when the decorative chains hanging off each side of the mantle suddenly moved of their own accord. Briar watched, in what seemed like slow motion, as the chains detached from the bottom ring that was holding them, and then swung in a gentle arc over his shoulders. Briar had scarcely begun to react when he felt a blinding pain under each of his shoulder blades. A piercing scream escaped his lips as he struggled to keep the mantle off of him, even as the chains strained to pull it closer to him. The decorative sharp outcroppings that resembled bat wings suddenly stretched and stabbed into him, and Briar could feel them attaching themselves to each of his collar bones respectively. Briar screamed again, louder this time, and vaguely heard a door open in the distance, accompanied by urgent but muffled shouting. The mantle became positively frenzied in its attempts to attach itself to him, and Briar just didn’t have the strength to keep it at bay. When Briar’s arms gave out a second later, the mantle slammed into his chest. The slam was accompanied by the sound of his shirt ripping and followed by a sickening squelch as it forced itself inside him. Briar dropped to the floor and began writhing, half blinded and unable to think clearly for the pain that was screaming in every nerve in his body. Even over the pain, Briar could feel the mantle moving inside of him, changing and attaching to his ribcage. Briar cried out one last time as his vision started to go black, and he was vaguely aware of people all around him and hands touching him just as he passed out.

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Briar blinked his eyes opened and was greeted by an almost blinding whiteness. Letting out a groan, he rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out where he was. Something rustled near him, accompanied by a startled and relieved gasp. Then he was suddenly being hugged from all sides. As his vision returned he realized that he was in a white hospital room lying on an equally white bed. The sun was shining through the window making the entire room rather hard to look at. His parents were clinging to him and letting out a garbled mess of “Thank you god”s, “I love you”s, and explanations. Briar waved his hand, telling them to be quiet.

“How did I get here?”

Briar’s mother, a thin woman with shoulder length wavy brown hair and kind hazel eyes began explaining.

“Apparently you got caught in the middle of a robbery!”

Her voice came out rather shrill and she had to clear her throat before continuing,

“The museum told us that a valuable artifact called the Marble of Acathla or something got stolen, and you must have accidentally stumbled in on the robbery as it was being committed!”

Tears began to well up in her eyes.

“Oh god Briar, the doctors say you’re lucky to be alive. That bastard stabbed you! Can you believe that! I hope- I- I hope they-! I hope he-!”

Briar couldn’t help but smile at his mother’s complete indignation that he had been stabbed, and apparently Briar’s father felt the same way, for he couldn’t hold back a smile that lit up his blue eyes as he spoke to her.

“Ok honey, we get the idea.”

Briar’s mom stopped in the middle of a violent gesture, apparently still trying to think of the worst thing that could possibly happen to the man who stabbed her son. At the sound of her husband’s voice, Briar’s mom went slightly pink and smoothed out her flowery blouse before taking a seat next to briar’s bed. From the look of it, they had stayed here all night with briar. The clothes they were wearing had that distinct wrinkly “slept in” look. Briar glanced over at his father who was running his hand through his short black hair, a smile still on his face, but he abruptly turned to Briar, his smile replaced by a stern line.

“Briar, you should have known not to go off alone like that. What were you thinking?”

Briar opened his mouth to explain, when it all came flooding back.
In one fluid motion he gasped and violently pulled open his hospital gown, a sharp ripping noise filled the room, but he didn’t care. He ran his hands over his smooth chest with mounting confusion. There wasn’t a mark, except for a strange black tattoo in the middle of his chest. Briar reached around and felt under each of his shoulder blades, and found no injury there either. The motion of his turn had made him wince unexpectedly though, causing him to notice that his midsection was bandaged. Briar tentatively lifted the gauze and inspected the source of his pain. It was a small gash about an inch and a half long just above his navel. He though back to what had happened, That must be a remnant of where the tip of the mantle stabbed into my stomach, but why were the rest of the wounds healed? Then it clicked. This was a setup! The mantle is sentient! It purposefully didn’t heal this one little gash so it would look like I was the victim of a robbery. Not only could it think, but it was smart! Briar turned to his dad and opened his mouth with the full intent of telling him what had actually happened, and then he reconsidered. They would send him to an insane asylum in a second if he told them that he had actually been the victim of a parasitic, sentient, magical piece of armor. Briar’s dad was looking increasingly perplexed at Briar’s strange behavior, and Briar realized that he should say something. So he cleared his throat,

“Um… did they catch him? The… man that did this?”

Briar’s dad looked relieved and was obviously going to attribute Briar’s strange behavior to post traumatic shock or something.

“No, the police have no leads either, so the case might go cold if this keeps up.”

Briar’s mother snorted.

“And they call it the ‘justice’ system.”

Then she glanced at Briar’s chest and her eyes widened in shock.

“Briar! When exactly where you going to tell us you got a tattoo! That is permanent young man! How dare you not ask permission first! If I wasn’t so glad you were even alive I’d be grounding you for the rest of your natural life!”

(Content warning: Vividly described scenes of Violence and gore, including zombies.)


Half a year passed without incidence. On rare occasions Briar could feel the mantle inside of him, but usually it was as if it had become a part of him; indistinguishable from any of his other organs. And apparently it really was undetectable, for he had been to the doctor twice in the time since it had bonded to him and neither time had the doctor suspected or found anything out of the ordinary. Briar rubbed his chest unconsciously as he thought about this. He was sitting at the kitchen table, staring into the dregs of his breakfast cereal. His parents were sitting in the living room watching the news in tense silence. Some sort of epidemic had occurred and they were quarantining large sections of Britain in response. London had been the first place to go, quickly followed by surrey and the Sussex counties. Fortunately all of these places were a good distance from Devon, so Briar wasn’t worried yet. He did find it a little odd that the news broadcasts were being so tight lipped as to the actual nature of the virus. Many people were very frustrated about this, and the news stations were being inundated with angry letters from people wanting to know how to protect themselves. Briar sighed and tried to tune out the sound of the newscaster’s voice. There was nothing he could do right now and needless worrying wouldn’t help anything. Briar reached out and stroked the petals of a white rose he had recently clipped from the garden. It was almost a day old now and was starting to look slightly wilted as it leaned against the clear glass vase it was placed in. At his touch, the rose seemed to regain some of its vitality. The pure white petals seemed to grow softer and less wilted and it seemed to stand up straighter. Briar smiled, the mantle seemed to have given him a strong, deep connection to plants of any kind. If it grew in sun and water, it flourished at his slightest touch. Especially roses, Briar seemed to have a very strong connection to roses in particular.

Briar nearly fell out of his chair, violently ripped from his train of thought, as someone suddenly began banging on their front door. Briar watched as his father answered the door and realized it had been their next door neighbor Angus Fletcher. Angus looked severely distressed and had the air of a man coming apart at the seams. A sheen of sweat clung to his skin like morning dew as he stared with crazed eyes at Briar’s father.

“Get out of here! Now! It’s happening! Tom, get your family out of here before they quarantine this whole area!”

Briar’s father seemed to need a few seconds to process this information, but then he fired a string of questions back at Angus in quick succession.

“The virus? It’s here? How long do we have!? When did it get here? What is it? Is it airborne? How do we protect ourselves?”

Angus seemed to have been overloaded in his stressed state and couldn’t answer all the questions.

“It’s bad Tom, real bad. People are going crazy, tearing each other apart. No time to pack, we have to leave now before…”

A blaring alarm akin to an air raid siren cut Angus’s sentence short. He looked around, his mouth hanging slack and then looked back at Briar’s father with a frenzied and slightly apologetic expression. He then bolted without another word, disappearing into the slowly deepening darkness. Briar sat frozen with shock at what he had just heard. His mother was in a similar position on the couch in the next room. Briar’s father suddenly spun around and screamed over the sirens.

“Grab only what you need and only what you can carry! We have to leave NOW!”

Briar shook out of his stupor and ran full tilt up to his room on the second floor. After he flung the door open he stood still for a moment in the middle of his room, staring at all of the precious things he had assembled over his short life. Out of all of it he would have to decide what was most important to him. Briar glanced for less than a moment at his various electronics. Videogame systems and such would be obsolete if he had no electricity. So Briar grabbed a backpack and shoved his laptop and IPod into the front compartment making sure he had a good supply of batteries. He then grabbed various books and a few changes of clothes. With his backpack nearly bursting, he ran back downstairs. His mom was just emerging from the kitchen with a box of food and her own bulging backpack slung over her shoulder. Her eyes were slightly red and her face was wet with slowly flowing tears. Briar’s father flung the door open and motioned everyone outside frantically. As Briar and his mother ran to the car, his father locked the door hastily. Screams could be heard faintly in the direction of the city center. Briar was suddenly very thankful that they lived on the outskirts of the city. Briar and his mother made it to the car and got in, slamming their doors and locking them, waiting impatiently for Briar’s father. He arrived seconds later and slammed his door closed as well, shoving the keys into the ignition as he checked the rear view mirror. As Briar’s father was putting the car in reverse something slammed against the glass directly beside Briar’s mother. She let out a piercing shriek and scooted to the other side of the backseat. Briar craned his neck from the front seat and caught a glimpse of a woman pressing her face against the glass. Her face was covered in blood and a portion of it seemed to be missing. Briar’s mother screamed louder still as his father slammed on the gas. Briar watched in shocked silence as the woman slid along the side of the moving car, leaving a dark red streak across the glass of the windows, she was finally knocked to the ground by the side mirror. As Briar’s father hastily shifted the car into drive, Briar watched as the woman struggled to get up off the cement of their driveway. She turned to face them just as Briar’s father hit the gas, and Briar got a second’s glimpse of the most horrifying thing he had ever seen. The side mirror seemed to have knocked her lower jaw clean off, leaving her with a gaping red hole slowly seeping thick congealed blood. Her tongue waggled lazily around her throat as she shambled toward the car. And then she was gone and the car was speeding down the road. Briar covered his face with his hands, but that image seemed to have been burned into his eyelids. He instead turned his attention to what was going on outside of the car. Evening was steadily turning to night, but there was still enough light to see what was happening as they sped away from the city.

About ten minutes after they had left, briar saw a man repeatedly shooting a head and torso that was slowly dragging itself toward him. It finally ceased its struggle when one of the shots connected with its skull. Briar brought his knees up to his chest and curled up in the front seat, unable to watch anymore. He let the comforting blackness of sleep envelop him and hoped that it would all be back to normal when he woke again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Briar was awoken by the sounds of metal being bent and ripped, coupled by the sound of glass shattering. He was suddenly upside down and his whole body was screaming in pain. Briar groaned and blinked his eyes open. He was lying on his back on the ceiling of the car with his legs against the seat above him. This confused him for a second before he realized the car had flipped over. Briar tried to push himself up into a better position, but he couldn’t feel his right arm. Briar groaned and shifted himself with his left hand so that he could see his parents. His father was hanging, suspended by his seatbelt. The driver side door was completely bent inward. His father was obviously dead, and the blood flowing from his many wounds was collecting in a steadily growing puddle below him. Briar blinked back tears and turned away from his father to check on his mother. She seemed ok, and was similarly on the ceiling of the car. She groaned and began to stir and Briar tried to turn around so he was no longer upside down. Suddenly there was a commotion and Briar’s mother was screaming again. Briar turned his neck, feeling it distinctly pop, to find out what was wrong. His mother was struggling against a great many hands that had suddenly reached through the driver’s side window that were trying to pull her out. Briar tried frantically to grab her hand with his left arm. She reached out desperately but was pulled away just as she was about to reach him. Briar got a last glimpse of her terror stricken face as she was pulled fully through the window.

“Briaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar!”

Her desperate scream became fainter and fainter a briar struggled in the car, until he could hear her no more. Briar finally succeeded in turning himself around, and he pushed himself out his own broken window with his feet, using his father’s chair as leverage. As he slid across the car’s ceiling the broken shards of glass sliced open his back like a cheese grater. Briar gasped in pain, but was finally free of the car. He pulled himself up beside the car with his left arm, his right hanging loosely at his side, and took a quick glimpse around the area to figure out what had happened. His parent’s car was wedged partially into an alley next to an intersection. A black van was sitting slightly askew in the middle of the road, its front bumper completely destroyed. The black van must have hit his parent’s car at high speed from the side, killing his father instantly and flinging the car sideways, causing it to roll into the alley. The only trace of his mother was a faint red streak on the pavement, leading to a park on the other side of the street. A great many figures were moving through the dark in there, making their way towards Briar. Briar quickly pulled his backpack from the partially open trunk before he turned and began running down the dark and seemingly deserted alley, hoping to find somewhere to hide. He suddenly slammed into a chain link fence that seemed to materialize out of the gloom without warning, knocking him to the ground. Briar pushed himself back up with his left arm and wiped the sweat from his brow, panting from the sudden physical exertion. He pushed himself back to his feet with all his strength and examined the fence. There was no way he was going to scale a fence this high with a dislocated shoulder. Briar turned back the way he had come with the intention of running back, but the entrance was already blocked by many dark shuffling figures. Briar pressed himself against the chain link fence, the metal hurting his bleeding back. As the figures got closer he pushed himself into the corner between the wall and the fence and tried to make himself as small as possible, lifting his left arm like a shield in front of him. The arm was grabbed violently and he felt a searing pain in the flesh near his elbow, the pain of teeth sinking into his flesh. Briar screamed and tried to fight back, but the grip was too strong, it was no use. He hadn’t felt pain like this since… As if called upon by his very thought briar felt the mantle shift violently within him. A warm sensation filled his entire body, starting in his chest and flowing out to his finger and toes. Suddenly he wasn’t hurting anymore. His wounds seemed to have suddenly healed, leaving his skin smooth and unbroken again, and the man holding his arm was thrown backward by a sudden surge of energy that flashed through Briar’s body.

Briar suddenly felt his pupils opening farther than they ever had before. It was like he was opening his eyes for the very first time. Though it was pitch black, daylight might as well have been streaming down around him. He could clearly see the distorted faces of every one of the creatures huddled around him. Briar stood up to his full height, waves of energy still flowing through his body, making him feel as though he could do anything. Every trace of fear was gone from him, the only thing left was an insane glee coupled with a strange hunger, almost like lust. What was it… what was it that he wanted. But the mantle wasn’t finished quite yet, now it was doing something else, briar could feel it moving around inside him, changing. What was it doing?

Suddenly the mantle seemed to burst out from its hiding place within Briar’s chest, yet it remained connected to him. It flowed over his body like a sheet of warm water, absorbing fabric and replacing it with flesh. Briar lifted his newly healed right arm and watched, realizing that it wasn’t flesh at all. It was forest green armor. Actually Briar wasn’t sure what it was. It was as hard as metal, yet it bent with his movements like fabric, and he could feel it. It wasn’t disconnected like pieces of fabric and armor usually are, it was a part of him. A piece of this green armor-fabric flowed up from around his neck and covered his nose and mouth, purifying and filtering the air he breathed in. Briar looked down and took stock of how he had changed, as he moved he first noticed that his white hair had turned a pale green, then he noticed that he was no longer wearing any of the clothes he had had on seconds ago. The tattoo in the center of his chest had now turned into a gilded black jewel. This jewel was the source of the armor-fabric; all of it was connected to the jewel. Most of his right arm was encased in the armor, and his fingers were inside razor sharp metal claws, this armor flowed around his back and finished in three spear-like blades coming off of his left shoulder. His left arm on the other hand was bare, save for a small armored glove around his hand and wrist. Instead of pants he was now wearing a highly immodest metallic piece of armor resembling an athletic cup, and knee high steel toed boots, made of the same armor fabric as everything else. There was a very large amount of his skin exposed and unprotected, but Briar wasn’t worried, he could do anything. He had claws, and he had armor…
Wait.
The thought stirred something within him.
Then suddenly it clicked and the itching hunger-like feeling in his chest spiked.
Realization flooded him. He knew what he wanted.
What else are weapons and armor used for?
He wanted… to FIGHT!

The creatures had been kept at bay by the regular bursts of energy emanating from Briar during his change, and they were taken completely off guard when he suddenly attacked. He lengthened the claws on his right arm, knowing how instinctively, and began slicing though the slightly decayed bodies like they were butter. Thick congealed blood splattered the walls of the narrow alley as Briar gracefully hacked through the walking corpses laughing with maniacal glee. He was clear of the alley in seconds, leaving a trail of severed limbs and twitching bodies in his wake. Briar vaulted over his parent’s wreaked car and slid to a stop in the middle of the intersection. Stumbling figures were making their way towards him from all four directions. Briar chuckled, licking his pointed canines under the faceguard. At his slightest thought the three spear-like barbs on briar’s left shoulder suddenly shot out, extending and impaling creature after creature, like some sort of macabre perversion of a squid’s tentacles. Briar retracted the three whips, dropping the bodies they were threaded through. Inadvertently this caused a lot of noise. Bodies shattered windows and set off car alarms as they were sent sailing through the air. Briar blinked and glanced around, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly they were coming from all sides. A black mass of running and stumbling bodies, claws outstretched toward their prey. Briar tensed and jumped backward toward the park and was immensely surprised when he jumped much higher than he was tall. He made a gentle backward arc toward the grassy clearing in the middle of the park; leaning back he did a flip at the apex of his flight and then landed in a crouch, his right hand stabilizing him on the ground. The park was surrounded on all sides by the stumbling creatures, but Briar was still not concerned, for he felt something new, something the asphalt and concrete of the road had been concealing from him. He could feel the ground, the life, and the plants.

Everything is connected.

Briar let out a fierce battle cry as he sent a wave of energy into the ground. Immediately a ring of thick brambles shot forth from the ground. They wound themselves around and often inside of briar’s attackers, killing and immobilizing them all, and concealing Briar in a ring of thorny protection befitting his name. Briar panted, a smile alighting on his lips behind the faceguard. Then his arm crumpled beneath him. Briar’s energy was exhausted, and he felt the protective armor receding, leaving behind his original clothes. Briar chuckled; at least he wouldn’t be passed out naked in the middle of the park. Just as his vision went dark he saw a flash of blonde hair and a devious smile.

“So I’ve finally found you, my Dark King.”

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A boy with flowing white hair sat comfortably in an equally white marble chair resembling a throne. His face was incredibly handsome, accentuated by his thin features and white robe. He looked to be in his late teens and seemed to be dosing, his head rested in his right hand, on the arm of the chair. Suddenly a beeping echoed in the room causing his eyes to flutter open. They were a bright amethyst and shone vibrantly in the all white surroundings.

“Yes?”

The white table sitting in front of his chair flickered and displayed a holographic chessboard, complete with chess pieces. The boy was seated behind the white pieces, but he was staring directly at the black pieces, whose king was flashing. The boy smiled widely, apparently very pleased with this.

“So the Black king has awoken at long last? I was beginning to wonder if he would ever show up.”

The boy pulled a white king chess piece from his sleeve and began spinning it idly between two fingers, his slightly disturbing grin still alight on his lips.

“Then now the games can really begin!”

His chilling laugh reverberated off the walls of his white room, sending back equally chilling echoes.

Chapter three:
Gabriel

Briar groaned and opened his eyes, and almost immediately shut them again. Bright sunlight streamed through a window beside him, flowing over the bed he was laying on. Briar rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the blurriness of sleep, and also to give his eyes some time to adjust to the light. When he was finally able to take a look around the room, he noticed a girl was sitting in a chair opposite his bed. She looked to be about his age and her long blonde hair was tied up in two flowing pigtails, one on each side of her head. Briar cleared his throat to signal that he was awake and couldn’t suppress a smile when she gave a startled jerk. Continuing to look around, Briar concluded he was either in a small one-room apartment or a dorm room. He turned back to the girl, one eyebrow raised.

“Care to explain?”

The girl laughed and nodded.

“Sorry for kidnapping you like that, but it seemed like the best thing to do at the time. I’m sorry, your parents… I couldn’t do anything for them.”

Her words pierced him like a sword and tears sprang to his eyes suddenly. Being confronted by these strange surroundings had pushed the events of last night to the back of his mind for a moment.

“I was able to grab this as well before I brought you here.”

The girl lifted Briar’s black backpack and then set it back down beside the chair. Then she flushed and turned away quickly as tears streamed down his face, sparkling in the sunlight. Briar wiped the tears away and cleared his throat again; there would be time to mourn later. Right now he needed explanations, but what to ask first.

“So what happened. What are those… things?”

The girl tilted her head to the side slightly, her blonde hair touching her shoulder on one side.

“Zombies.”

Briar was a little taken aback.

“Zombies? Really?”

The girl smirked.

“Well what did you think they were?”

Briar opened his mouth, and then closed it, thinking twice. Actually, he hadn’t really thought about what they were.

“Well then why isn’t the news all over this?!”

The girl smiled again, but lifted an eyebrow as if to say she had expected him to be smarter than this.

“The news is being a lot less tight lipped about it now that the virus is over eighty percent of the continent. But they still favor the term ‘reanimated corpses.’ It’s like the word ‘zombie’ is a taboo.”

Briar looked around again and opened his mouth to ask where he was, but the girl cut him off, knowing what he was going to ask ahead of time.

“You’re in a dorm room on the grounds of a small college in Cornwall.” She looked around self consciously and blushed a little. “I’m not sure what town… I’ve been living here with a group of survivors for about a week. It’s built rather old style with really tall walls and a gate… it’s kind of like a castle, Very safe. You’ll see when you go outside.”

Briar nodded, satisfied with her explanation, and then gave her a searching look.

“Here’s a tough one. Who are you, and how did you find me? And how did you get me to Cornwall? We had only driven a few miles out of Devon…”

The girl smiled sheepishly and rubbed her neck.

“My name’s Sarah and this is how I knew where to find you.”

Sarah lifted her shirt and revealed a tattoo just above her navel; it was strikingly similar to the one on Briar’s chest. Briar gasped and looked from the tattoo to her gold eyes and back a few times, unable to form the multitude of questions he wanted to ask into words. Sarah smiled kindly, understanding what he was feeling, and let her shirt drop before answering his unspoken questions.

“I kind of felt you activate. And I just knew you were in trouble, so I rushed to help you.” She grinned wider. “There’s so much to explain, and so very little time.”

Briar could only sit with his mouth hanging slightly open, dumbfounded into silence by this new revelation, so Sarah continued.

“This will be a little hard to explain, so here goes. The artifact that bonded with you is very old and very powerful, but it is not alone, it’s part of a set.” Sarah paused to make sure Briar was still listening, and continued only after he nodded at her. “Think of it in terms of chess pieces. The artifact that bonded with you, what is it called?”

Swallowing to wet his dry throat, briar replied.

“It was called ‘The mantle of Acanthus.’”

Nodding, Sarah continued with her explanation,

“Well, the mantle of Acanthus can be thought of as the black king chess piece. While my artifact Abeille, can be thought of as the black queen.”

Briar raised an eyebrow at the implications of her statement, causing Sarah to laugh.

“No, no, nothing like that. The artifacts are ranked by power. King being the most powerful, queen being second most powerful, bishops third most powerful, and so on. You’ll meet the others later.”

Briar lightly massaged his right temple with his fingers, for it had started aching dully.

“If we’re the black pieces then does that mean…”

Sarah’s face darkened.

“Yes, the white king is the man responsible for this virus, his name is Gabriel.”

Briar let his mouth drop open again.

“This is all just so unbelievable… and what happened to me last night!? I can barely remember… it’s all in a haze. But I remember blood, and claws, and a lust for battle I never thought could possibly come from within me.”

Sarah leaned back and crossed her arms.

“That was your ‘enhanced form’. When your life is in danger your artifact will activate, giving you the power to protect yourself. The suit boosts your physical strength, speed, agility, and your six senses.”

Briar arched an eyebrow again.

“Six senses?”

Nodding, Sarah continued to explain.

“Along with sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch, there is a sixth harder to define sense. It is more of a mental ability. It means you will be able to sense when another artifact activates near you and also when another black piece is in danger.” Sarah paused, picking her words carefully. “You are still untrained, so when your suit activates you will be unable to quench the lust for battle that emanates from within it. These artifacts are essentially weapons and love nothing more that being locked in battle. Also, you are newly activated and have not passed the periculum yet, so your suit can only draw on a fraction of its true power.”

Briar sighed, yet another term unknown to me. I feel like a child again, needing to ask what a word means every few minutes.

“Periculum?”

Sarah’s cheeks reddened at his frustrated tone, realizing she should have explained.

“Periculum means ‘danger’ in Latin. What I’m referring to is a sort of test every wielder is put through by their artifact. Sometimes it is a test of bravery, sometimes cunning, other times compassion. But whatever the test entails, if you should fail you will die. Failure means the artifact has deemed you an unworthy wielder and can no longer use you as a host. But should you pass, you will gain unimaginable power.”

Pushing the covers to the side, Briar swung his legs off the bed and stretched.

“Thank you for answering my questions Sarah, but I don’t think I can handle much more information right now. Would you happen to know where I can get something to eat?”

Sarah stood and motioned toward the door.

“I’ll take you to the cafeteria if you like. You’ll be able to meet some of the other Black pieces there.”

Briar stood as well and began following her out the door, when she suddenly stopped and turned.

“Oh, I forgot to ask your name…”

“Briar.”

Sarah smiled in a peculiar way.

“How very… fitting.”

Briar’s eyes widened as he recalled what had happened just prior to his collapse the night before, he opened his mouth to ask her to explain what had happened, but she had already turned and was walking steadily down the hallway. Deciding he would have to ask her later, Briar closed his mouth with a sigh before hurrying to catch up with her.

Sarah had not been kidding. The campus was built almost exactly like a castle, complete with a tower and arrow slits on all the roofs of the outer buildings. The only things missing were torches suspended on brackets on the walls, and probably a moat, but Briar had not seen the outside of the building yet so he was unsure whether or not there was one. A twelve foot stone wall topped with wrought iron spikes surrounded the entire estate, most likely to keep people from sneaking on to campus. The campus itself was very large, about six acres long and four acres across, and about half of that space was filled with the massive main building. Newer wood buildings like the cafeteria had been added in the extra space against the walls. Briar shivered, crossing his arms in front of him to conserve heat. Despite the sun shining cheerily down on them, the morning was very chilly. Breath came out as mist and frost clung to the grass, causing their footsteps to make odd crunching noises that echoed eerily in the dead silence.

Briar and Sarah jogged the last few feet to the door of the cafeteria, the promise of warmth quickening their steps. Letting out a contented sigh as the warmth hit his face, Briar allowed Sarah to steer him toward a group of people sitting at one of the many tables. People sat in ones and twos sparsely throughout the room, but the largest group was the one they were headed towards. Six people were seated around the rectangular wood table. Four men were staring silently from behind the table at briar and Sarah as they entered, and two girls were seated on their left side. They were nearly identical, so Briar deduced that they were probably sisters. Sarah reached the table before him and seated herself across from the four men; she then turned and motioned for Briar to sit next to her. When he was seated comfortably she motioned to those assembled at the table.

“Briar, meet the black army.” She then started introducing them individually. First she pointed to the two girls. “Mary and Susan bear the Bishop-class artifacts.”

Both sisters looked rather ragged. Their clothes were ripped in places and they both bore haunted and exhausted looks on their faces. Briar looked closer at the twins, studying them. Mary had long honey colored hair and a stern face. He could tell she was fiercely protective of her sister by the way she was sitting with her arm around Susan. Susan had equally long black hair and seemed shyer than her sister, for she wouldn’t meet Briar’s gaze, opting to stare at the wood grain instead.

Sarah then turned to the men.

“This is Dante, he bears a knight class artifact.”

Dante sat with his thick tanned arms crossed. He was a large man, but he was built solid rather than flabby, giving him a rather intimidating appearance. Briar shifted uneasily as Dante gazed at him from beneath his short dark hair, then Dante gave a small nod of acceptance and Briar’s anxiety subsided.

Sarah motioned to the man next to Dante.

“This is Alexi, He bears the second knight class artifact.”

Alexi was completely opposite of Dante. Where Dante was dark and tanned Alexi was bright and fair skinned, almost alabaster skinned. Alexi’s wavy blonde hair flowed over his shoulders and back. Alexi had very thin almost dainty features, but his bright blue eyes belied the strength hiding behind this façade. Alexi stared at Briar with an eyebrow raised, unabashed skepticism etched in every line on his face.

“Who is zis child? ‘ow can ‘e be ze one to bear ze king class artefact? He…”

Whatever Alexi was going to say was stopped dead in his throat as a simultaneous shiver rippled through the group, Briar gasped in shock as he felt an unexplainable feeling inside him. He could feel it… feel something… powerful nearby. Briar licked his lips, his breath coming out in pants of desire as he began to stand. Sarah jumped out of her chair and locked her arms around briar’s body as Dante lunged over the table. Without warning Briar felt his skin shift and change, and the familiar sense of invincibility flooded his body like waves of pleasure. Sarah was forced to release her grip and jump back in fright as the three whip blades flowed out over his left shoulder. Briar smiled under his faceguard at Alexi’s dumbstruck expression, then turned and sprinted out the door. Once he was outside, briar turned and oriented himself towards the powerful force he felt, it was coming from outside of the front gate. Briar crouched low tensing his muscles and feeling the energy build in his legs, then he released it with all his might. The resulting jump sent him flying with such force that he overshot the twelve foot wall by about six feet. Briar let out an exhilarated laugh as he sailed though the air, watching the ground rush up to meet his feet. He landed with a tremendous crash that lightly cracked the asphalt under his feet. Briar took a deep breath, the chilly morning air no longer affecting him, even though he was wearing less clothing than before. Briar’s body was burning with energy and lust for battle. Dark shuffling figures started making their way towards him, but Briar paid them no mind, they were as insignificant as insects to him right now. Briar readjusted so he was facing towards the enemy and started sprinting. Though he was sprinting faster than any human could have dreamed, his muscles gave no protest; on the contrary, he could barely feel it. Briar gave a whoop of laughter and made a another massive jump, landing on the roof of a two story building, right in front of the person causing the feeling. The boy in front of him looked so completely un-extraordinary, that Briar thought he might have been mistaken for a moment. The boy wore a long white robe that covered everything but his face and neck, the robe also had a hood, but the boy had decided to leave it down, allowing his long white hair to flow freely down his back. Briar was surprised by the hair, the same white as his own normally was, but was most shocked by the vibrant amethyst eye that was staring at him with a rather bored expression. His long hair covered his right eye, giving briar the impression of the boy peering out at him from behind a curtain.

Briar tilted his head to the side, unable to understand the incredible force coming from the boy. In answer he grinned widely and spread his arms in a welcoming gesture,

“Hello! I’m so very glad you decided to join me on this glorious and slightly chilly morning. I just thought it would be polite to introduce myself before all the fighting starts.”

The boy bowed, his long hair sweeping over his shoulders and almost brushing the ground.

“My name is Gabriel. It’s a pleasure to meet you Black King.”

(Content warning: Intense violent battle scenes, blood, and suggestive dialogue. in addition to hinted yaoi)


Briar gasped, the strange energy emanating from the boy finally making sense. This was the enigmatic leader of the white chess pieces, Gabriel, bearer of the white king artifact.

Gabriel looked Briar up and down, his violet eyes almost hungry. A smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth as he spoke. “That is quite the outfit you’ve got there. If you’re trying to distract me I can tell you it is most definitely working.” A strange wind, full of power began to rise around Gabriel, sending his long white hair whipping around his face, and rustling his white cloak. “But enough talk, I can feel the lust for battle emanating from you, and I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting with meaningless prattle.”

Gabriel spread his arms wide and immediately released his artifact. In response, a sharp three pronged crown pushed itself up through his hair, and his hair itself began to flow around his body like water, growing many times longer than it had already been. The hair began to solidify into strands as thick as briar’s arm; these strands then began to wind themselves around Gabriel’s waist, weaving into an armored skirt. This skirt completely covered Gabriel’s legs and flowed over the ground around his feet. Briar wondered for a second how quickly Gabriel could possibly move in this impractical piece of armor, but his half formed question was dispelled spectacularly a second later as the remaining strands of Gabriel’s hair flowed together and formed a pair of pure white bladed wings. Each wing had five blade ‘feathers’, three prominent between two vestigial. Gabriel spread these terrifying wings to their full span, giving him more of a resemblance to a spider than any bird Briar had ever seen. Armored shoulder pads and woven bracers had also grown out of his now pearly white skin to protect his arms and shoulders, accompanied by a spidery black tattoo that flowed from the center of his chest, spreading six thorny tendrils out to his face arms and waist. Gabriel smiled at Briar; his violet eyes were even more startling now, as the whites of his eyes had turned completely black, and his pupils were catlike slits.

Still in awe of Gabriel’s transformation, Briar was taken completely off guard when Gabriel attacked. One moment he stood, completely still, his wings outspread, and the next second he was gone. Briar jumped backward on instinct and barely avoided four barbed whips that embedded themselves in the roof where he had stood moments before. Briar gasped in shock, they were the exact same weapons he himself attacked with. Following the whips with his eyes as they retracted, Briar was astonished to see that the entire bottom of Gabriel’s skirt was comprised of the barbed whips. Even more astonishing was the fact that Gabriel was floating in midair about nine feet off the ground with no visible means of support. Briar licked his lips, relishing the unbelievable power of his opponent. Pushing off the roof with all his might, Briar sent himself flying directly at Gabriel, his clawed right arm outstretched toward Gabriel’s chest. Gabriel stretched out his wings and then brought them together in a tremendous motion. Briar’s body was hit by a wall of air as hard as stone, sending him flying back toward the roof. Twisting in the air, Briar just barely managed to get his feet underneath his body, breaking the potentially bone shattering fall with his feet and bracing himself with his right arm. His claws left five deep gashes in the stone roof and sent bits of rubble skittering off in all directions. Briar let out a frustrated yell and sent his three barbed whips lancing through the air toward Gabriel from three different directions. Two of the whips he blocked with a nonchalant wave of his wing and the last he caught in his right hand.

“Oh my, we seem to have very similar powers, you and I. But ‘similar’ is all they are, nowhere near ‘equal’.”

A dull crunch perforated the air as Gabriel savagely crushed the blade of the whip in his hand. Briar cried out in pain, it felt like one of his own fingers was being broken. Placing the palm of his right hand flat on the roof, Briar reached out with his mind for that energy he had felt the night before, that vast serene power. A loud bang rang out in the building below them and a few seconds later a section of the roof cracked and then heaved upward, releasing a tangle of thorny vines like some sort of green alien forcing its way up out of the earth.

Gabriel’s face went blank with shock as he was suddenly and inexplicably surrounded by writhing vines, and Briar’s whip-spear retracted with a snap as Gabriel accidentally released it in his surprise. With a sound like a forest in a storm, the vines surrounded Gabriel in a green leafy cocoon that began to slowly squeeze its occupant. Briar smirked and was about to let out a triumphant laugh when an explosive ripping noise rent the air. Pieces of leaf and vine littered the roof like body parts and shrapnel after a grenade explosion as Gabriel stretched out his wings, finely mincing the vines that had been holding him. While calmly brushing bits of plant off of his arms, Gabriel stared down at Briar with a cold menace that was more terrifying than any look of rage could have been. Those startling amethyst eyes cut into Briar like knives, making him feel naked and defenseless.

Small cuts covered Gabriel’s chest arms and face, every bit of skin that wasn’t protected. Lifting his arm toward his face, Gabriel quietly inspected the slowly bleeding cuts like someone inspects a piece of dirt on their glasses. Without making another movement, or any kind of outward sign of aggression, Gabriel suddenly sent a score of the barbed whips hanging from his skirt in a deadly arc toward the spot where Briar was crouched.
Caught off guard, Briar was barely able to dodge the first one and came away with a long cut on his cheek where the blade had grazed him. Briar zigzagged across the roof, dodging the rest of the lethal spears as they sought to impale him.

For the second time, Briar launched himself up off the roof, flying between the waving tendrils connecting Gabriel’s skirt to the spear heads. He had jumped from a much closer this time, stopping Gabriel from using the wind attack for a second time. Briar stretched his claws out, longing to feel them sink deep into Gabriel’s chest, but it was not to be. Gabriel folded his wings in front of himself, apparently not needing to flap them to keep himself aloft, and Briar’s outstretched claws slammed into the barrier created by them, deflecting his arm off to the side. Sighing in frustration, Briar noticed his claws hadn’t even left a scratch on Gabriel’s wings.

A second too late, the realization that the glancing blow had left him completely open to attack hit Briar. A gap opened in Gabriel’s feathers and his alabaster right arm whipped out, catching Briar around the neck. The cuts had already healed, leaving Gabriel’s arm smooth and perfect as white marble below Briar’s eyes. Gabriel unfurled his wings again, revealing a satisfied grin on his handsome face. The two topmost vestigial feathers on Gabriel’s wings were much too short to be used in combat, but they were perfect for close range attacks. Gabriel made this abundantly clear as he stabbed them through Briar’s shoulders, immobilizing his arms. Briar tried to struggle, feeling hot blood flow down his chest and back, but there was nothing he could do. Suddenly the cold trickling sensation of his armor retracting washed over him and he cried out as the full pain of his injuries hit him. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his body had dampened the pain substantially. Luckily, the biting cold washed over him anew, numbing the pain slightly.

Gabriel gave Briar a look of mock disappointment, “Now this just wont do, not at all…. Untested, untrained…. you are completely at my mercy. You need to become much more powerful before you have the smallest chance of defeating ME in battle.” Gabriel smiled, a hungry look in his eyes again. “And I suppose I’m entitled to collect a small trophy of my victory, wouldn’t you agree?” Reaching out his unburdened left hand, Gabriel began cutting open the front of Briar’s shirt with one curved nail. But Dante’s enraged voice cut through the silence like a knife, interrupting him.

“PUT. HIM. DOWN.”

Gabriel blinked and withdrew his hand, turning his attention to the man who had spoken. For a split second a look of rage and frustration crossed Gabriel’s face, but it was gone so quickly, replaced by a wide haughty grin, that Briar was unsure if he had actually seen it.

“Why, hello Dante.” Gabriel’s eyes roamed the roof behind Briar for a moment before he spoke again. “Ah, I see you’ve brought the whole gang.”

Sarah’s voice rang out, even more enraged than Dante’s had been. “Have you inexplicably gone deaf? He said put Briar down. NOW.”

Gabriel sighed, and then laughed maliciously. “Oh fine then, if you insist, but in the spirit of being contrary...”

Bringing back his arm as far as it would go; Gabriel flung Briar skyward with every ounce of his tremendous strength. Briar had a few seconds view of the ground moving away from him at a sickening speed before he passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Briar groggily blinked his eyes open and found himself, yet again, lying in a white bed covered in bandages. Sarah was gazing somberly out the second story window but rearranged her face into a cheerful smile when she heard him moving.

“Good morning sleepyhead!” Sarah began walking around the room, nervously straightening and cleaning things. She accidentally fluffed his pillow twice in quick succession without realizing it. “It’s still a little too early for you to be up and moving, but you’ve made a rapid recovery and there’s very little chance of any lasting damage. You should be able to move your arms properly in the next day or so.”

Briar experimentally lifted his right arm and felt a stab of pain in his shoulder. He quickly dropped his arm, but his shoulder now had a dull ache that hadn’t been there before. Briar looked back at Sarah and noticed her cleaning the table next to his bed, the cushion of the chair next to it had a deep indentation, as if someone had been sitting there for a long time recently and it hadn’t had the chance to fluff back up again. The table also bore hints that someone had inhabited that spot for a length of time, possibly days. Hints such as scraps of paper, books, and dirty dishes. Signs which were being hastily cleared away by Sarah. Briar contemplated this for a moment, “Were you looking after me, while I was asleep?” Briar stopped for a second, thinking. “By the way, how long was I out?”

Sarah stopped her cleaning and let out a giggle. “No, it wasn’t me, though I have been checking on you regularly.” Sarah motioned to the door, indicating that someone had left before Briar had woken up. “Dante was at your bedside for nearly the entire time you were out, two full days, but I wouldn’t have expected any lesser amount of time considering the severity of the injuries you sustained.”

Briar realized his mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it before incredulously saying, “Dante?”
Briar though back to his meeting with Dante, the crossed arms and intense eyes, and the subtle nod of acceptance he had given Briar. Blushing slightly, Briar cleared his throat. “Wow, he doesn’t seem like the type… to look after someone like that.”

Sarah nodded, “Yeah, he’s a funny one, but he’s not the only one that was worried about you… what happened really shook a lot of us.” Sarah stopped, the worry showing in her eyes, Briar suddenly realized that this was why she had been nervously cleaning. To hide how anxious she was. “You’re our only hope of stopping Gabriel. If something were to happen… if you were to…” Sarah broke off and stared out the window again, unable to look Briar in the eye.

Briar opened his mouth and started to reply, but let out his breath and stared down at the covers for a while instead. After a minute or two of silence Briar looked back at Sarah and she turned to listen to his response. “I let you guys down, didn’t I?”

Sarah smiled sadly, nodding absently. “Yeah, but you can’t be expected to always succeed when you’ve just started out like this. You’re still getting used to your power, and you aren’t even at full strength yet…”

Briar jerked his head up, realizing something. “Wait… what if… what if that was my ‘periculum’, my test. And what if I…” Briar stopped and swallowed to wet his throat, which suddenly felt like sandpaper. “What if I failed?”

After a few seconds Sarah finally finished with her cleaning, she pushed the chair back into the desk and leaned against it, her face pained. “You’ve just voiced one of our greatest fears. If that’s the case…” Sarah looked up at him her eyes wide and painted with fear and sadness. “If that’s the case, we have no way of winning this war.”

Briar watched as Sarah silently walked from the room, unable to think of anything to say to her. After a long time sitting in silence, Briar carefully reached down into his backpack, looking for his laptop. Luckily someone had thought to put it close to the bed where he would be able to reach it. Briar set the slim silver machine on his lap and opened it, then patiently waited as it booted up. When the screen finally flashed and displayed his desktop, Briar clicked the little Internet Explorer Icon and waited for his homepage to load. After about a minute the computer displayed a white screen with a block of text in the top left corner.

“Internet Explorer cannot display the webpage.” A grayish rectangular button below the text said “Diagnose connection problems?”

Briar shut down his laptop and closed it with a sigh; it had been stupid to think a castle would have Wi-Fi. But it was a college, so there had been at least a chance. Briar slid the laptop back into his backpack with half formed plans of looking for a computer lab later. In this kind of catastrophe, would the internet even still be there?

Even on the second floor of the stone building Briar was starting to be able to dimly feel the life around him. Like a cool green light shining distantly all around him. Briar absently rubbed his chest. ‘The mantle of Acanthus’ didn’t seem to fit the beautiful and deadly force that inhabited his body. The name just didn’t fit…

“That’s because it isn’t my name.”

Briar sat bolt upright and immediately realized his folly, he waited a few seconds for the blinding wave of pain that would accompany the motion, and was pleasantly surprised when it didn’t come. Briar opened his eyes, which had been closed tight in anticipation of intense pain, and took in his surroundings. He was no longer lying in bed, but was now sitting on a bed of soft, lush, grass in the middle of a sunlit clearing. The long blades swayed in the light breeze, their ends tickling the exposed skin of his arms and legs. Briar looked around quickly and located the woman who had spoken. She was seated comfortably on a mossy log a few feet away, her legs crossed in front of her. She wore a simple green dress, seeming to be woven out of numerous leaves, and her long brown hair had morning glories braided through it. Briar swallowed, unsure of what to do.

“Um… w-what did you say?”
The woman smiled and leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm, her green eyes seemed playful, but also had a depth that could be terrifying with in a different mood.

“I said ‘the mantle of Acanthus’ is not my real name. It’s just something the humans named me, I mean, Acanthus wasn’t even my first wielder. You can call me Flora for now. My true name is something I only share to those worthy of wielding me. Do you think you are worthy?”

Briar was a little taken aback; I think the personification of my artifact is talking to me. Is this normal?

Flora chuckled.
“You are, and it is. You are in my world, and can hide nothing from me here. My questions would be meaningless if you could provide false answers.”

Briar shivered a little anxious.
“Questions?”

“Yes, this is what you humans call a ‘periculum’, this is your test.”

Briar blinked,
“But I thought…”

“You thought ‘danger’ meant that you were to be tested in battle, right? Wrong. How could you be tested in battle with minimal strength against far greater opponents? The test is not about the fight, it’s about the bond.”

“Then why is it called ‘danger’?”

Flora gave him a sardonic grin.
“If you fail this little interview I will forcibly push myself out of your chest, killing you in the process. Is that enough danger for you?”

Briar gulped and nodded, then shifted into a cross legged position.
“So what is my test?”

Flora smiled,
“Call out my name.”

“Flora?”

“Oh good, you were listening, but no. Call out my true name. If you can say my name without me having to tell it to you, then you are truly worthy.”

Briar’s mouth dropped open.
“I’m just supposed to guess? That’s impossible!”

“If you are able to say my name it will not be a guess, I have already given you everything you need to realize it, the question is whether you are clever enough to do so.”

With that, Flora leaned back into a more comfortable position and said no more, a slight smile alight on her lips. Briar sighed and looked around him. The clearing was quite large, almost a meadow, and it was ringed by trees. From the look and feel of the place, he was deep within a vast forest. Many different colored wildflowers grew sporadically throughout the meadow so that a splash of purple, white, or yellow broke the otherwise even yellow-green background. This was nature at its most pure, unobstructed, undisturbed, and unbroken by encroaching life. Briar thought about the basis of his power and about flora herself, the name and even the way she looked.

“Nature?”

Flora laughed.
“Oh, so close, but how could a word like nature be a name, fraught with multiple meanings as it is. No my name is older, purer. Try again.”

Briar thought about it, so nature was close… older… purer… What had Sarah sad her artifact was called? It took him a few seconds to recall. Adielle… perculum. Then it came to him. The word filled him, the power in it like cloves on his tongue.

“Natura.”

A smile spread across Flora’s lips.
“We have a winner. Go out there and make me proud kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

Briar woke in the same old room, a pleasant tingly feeling filling his body. He stretched his arms cautiously and felt no pain; all of his wounds had been healed.

“Hey, thanks.”

A playful feeling from around his chest seemed to say you’re welcome.