The House of Grey- Volume 6 (16 page)

Gibson lurched back. “The Natural Man is already starting to take over, Monson Grey. If you do not pull back soon he will consume and destroy you.”

Monson scripted an earth-moving spell that caused the ground
to shake itself into gravel, sand, and loose dirt
. Gibson attempted to pivot but lost his footing. He tilted off balance ever so slightly and created a small opening for Monson, who stepped forward, his thrusting blade going in for a decisive blow. But Gibson was one step ahead, already finishing the final runes of a scripted spell. Monson rolled to his left, twirling his blade in a desperate attempt to block the spell. Gibson’s spell did not hit him, nor was it meant to.
t
he fire spell streamed past Monson’s head, heading directly for
–

“Casey! Artorius! Duck!”

Monson’s two best friends looked up just in time to be on the receiving end of a nasty combat spell. Monson could feel his anger starting to take over.
h
e knew that there was no chance of survival.

“NO!” he screamed.
h
e was prepared; he was going to call upon all of it.
a
ll of whatever it was that was in him.
h
e was going to stop it; he would
will
this spell to stop.

Something moved into his line of sight or maybe it was in his mind’s eye.
h
e did not know, but for a fraction of a moment the only thing visible was long, tousled black hair and wild silver eyes.

Monson came back to
himself
right as the spell connected.
h
is two friends were going to be killed right in front of him.

The fire exploded, colliding with something in midair and creating a heavy curtain of that same unnatural steam Monson had experienced earlier in the locker room with Damion. When the mist cleared, Casey and Artorius stood tall—shell-shocked but seemingly unharmed. Monson took one look at them and knew immediately that an ice spell had had blocked the fire spell.

He put his wonder aside as more gunfire peppered the air. This time Monson was able to ascertain the source of the noise. To his amazement, he saw Kylie Coremack and Taris Green standing at the front of a large group of Legionnaires, each girl holding a giant, shiny hand cannon. Many of the Legionnaires
were sporting wounds in the form of lost limbs or giant holes in their bodies. They did not seem to mind, however, as they were far more interested in the weaponry they were now pointing in Gibson’s direction.

Taris barked out a rough command. “Ready…fire!”

Elemental phenomena of every kind flashed, all aimed directly at Gibson. Fire, earth, wind, water and lighting cruised towards their target while Gibson struggled to script a spell. Darkness formed on his hands; it was a blackness similar to the Midday Darkness
but
at the same time
, Monson
felt
it was
more primal.

The palm-centered darkness quickly grew to the size of watermelons and he threw them to the ground.
t
he blackness shifted, vibrating violently until shapes formed from the balls of blackness. The silhouettes hastily took a human form, only to be blasted into rocky pieces a second later. Taris and Kylie again took aim and were just about to fire when Gibson called out.

“Serin, hear thy master’s call. Come and take shape.” Gibson spread his arms out wide as he called out one final word. “Obey!”

Red Kei rippled out from Gibson in a concussive wave of intense energy.
t
he push of power was so great, it knocked most of the onlookers off their feet. The roaring of the fight
pounded in
their ears affecting their equilibrium and caus
ed
Monson and his friends to very slowly rise to their feet. Many of the rock soldiers remained on the ground.

While relieved that none of his friends was harmed, Monson instantly saw the desperate nature of their situation.

The person he had known as Aaron Gibson was gone. In his place stood a nightmare, complete with blotchy gray skin, ruby red eyes, and liquid black hair
.
H
is cloth
e
s were tattered and rip
p
ed
. T
he whole freakish package
was
wrapped in a Kei shroud that pulsated scarlet. The
Kei
shroud and devastation of the
transformation
clung
to the creature except for a shimmering golden bracelet that appeared completely untouched. Gibson jerked forward; he was there and then he was gone. When Monson again tracked him down, Casey and Artorius had been tossed aside and freshly form
ed
red and black Kei replications were wreaking havoc upon Kylie and Taris.

Monson scripted a spell, forcing as much energy as possible into its construct. Flame-woven rope stretched from his hand as he flung it, lassoing Gibson and jerking back hard. The flaming rope caused Gibson’s sword to fly upwards and away. Monson readied his own sword, anticipating Gibson’s call to the blade and the mad dash to fall upon him. Gibson did not move, however, but rather looked over his shoulder and addressed Monson.

“Your ability with the low-level combat spells is impressive. Fire, earth and wind. Three out of the five elements, all with an unusually high Grip Rate. You are either very in control of your emotions and mental state, or your power level exceeds even my expectations.”

Monson tightened his grip on the flame rope, jabbing down slightly so Gibson felt the pull. “I like the new look.
g
ray skin and red eyes.
y
ou’ll start a new fashion trend for Halloween.”

Gibson held up a hand, displaying his gray palm, and swept away the flame rope that held him bound. “Camor and Zamile’s curse, Monson Grey.
m
y state is the price of getting to know one’s inner demons.
t
he price of progress, one might say. Camor and Zamile were particularly disgusted with the natural state of morals and they displayed that disdain with overwhelming forthrightness, hence
my
appearance.
b
ut worry not; my second form is that much more beautiful.”

A crash and a roar prevented Monson from answering.
B
rian Gatt’s fire-covered bird was flying tipsily around the beast, the monster taking huge swipes at it. Anyone watching the progression of the air battle could see that something was wrong. Brian Gatt’s Kei shroud was almost completely diminished and he was performing few countermeasures against the attacks from the Midday Darkness. What was happening?

“It is only a matter of time until he falls.
i
nner Circle or not, no lone Magi is a match for the Aram No Abidi.” Gibson turned his rubies on Monson. “He will fall, Monson Grey, just like everyone else who is foolish enough to stand before me. So what will you do?”

Monson gritted his teeth as he spoke. “You sound awfully cocky.
i
f Brian and Mr. Gatt can’t beat that thing, what makes you think you can?” 

Gibson laughed the sound harsh and unforgiving. “The Aram No Abidi is a weapon, Monson Grey.
a
weapon of combined effort of the Arcanel and Daymonian races in the time before the Religion Wars, when this world knew more than one master and his beloved was alive and vibrant yet a thorn in his side. Like all other weapons, they have controls available for those who are compatible.”

Gibson’s arm rose perpendicular to his frame. The golden bracelet on his arm shimmered all the more brilliantly.
I have to
stop him
,
t
hought Monson
.
i
t might be the only thing that can get us out of this.

As if the bracelet itself had been listening to the conversation, the gold heated up, growing white hot. The bracelet expanded from its original shape, spinning on its axis and increasing its diameter the more it spun. Monson saw the
monster’s
movements become jerky, as if some invisible force was attacking it. Its thrashing became more violent but then stopped abruptly.
G
ibson interlocked his fingers and stretched them out, showing Monson his palms and cracking his knuckles. Overhead, the Heart of the Midday Darkness mimicked him perfectly. Two epiphanies knocked Monson so hard upside the head, the concept became almost physical. The first was that the bracelet on Gibson's arm could control the Midday Darkness.
t
he second and much more frightening was…Gibson was controlling the Midday Darkness. They were screwed, totally screwed.

The grin on Gibson’s face told Monson that he knew what Monson had just pieced together, and that Monson was well aware of the predicament he and his friends were facing.

“Specialty Spell: Thousand Points of Pressure.”

Monson heard the spell from high above his head but was unable to react.
m
ore crashing and a yelp of pain clearly indicated that Brian Gatt’s spell had found its mark on the Midday Darkness. The beast, still floating high above, staggered as if intoxicated before falling backwards away from Brian Gatt. Across its face was a hole as big as a medicine ball. The wound was dripping black tar.
T
he beast stared out with a different expression, one that was almost…human.

There was hope; Monson could feel it.
B
rian Gatt had hurt the Midday Darkness.
n
ow if Monson could just take out Gibson, who for some reason was  on the ground. What had happened to him? Had the master manipulator tripped? As Gibson slowly rose, Monson caught a glimpse of a large, gaping wound on the side of his face. Monson broke into a grin as he formulated a plan.

“Brian—Mr. Gatt,” called out Monson, doing his best to again magically magnify his voice. “Attack that thing with all you’ve got!”

Gibson called out sounding bored
,
“I do not know what your plan is, Monson Grey, but it is—”

Monson attack
ed
and in doing so threw Gibson off balance. Without hesitation, Monson pressed him, their red and golden blades dancing spectacularly. Monson was recklessly pushing, sacrificing defense for offensive power and forcing the silver-powered Kei to amplify his attacks. Gibson was able to counter, but his moves were slow and jerky.
M
onson was able to inflict several small wounds without receiving any himself.

“This is pointless, boy,” said Gibson as blood-red Kei filled and healed his wounds. “You know you do not have the ability to defeat me and you also know that you are too important for me to kill you. So why is it that you keep up this farce? Let me take the girl and I will be on my
–”

“Who said anything about me defeating you?”

“What are you going on about? If not you, then who?”

Monson smiled again and pointed up with one finger. Brian Gatt came sweeping down, golden blade and golden body lighting up the entirety of the area. The cut of the blade stretched out several yards, lacerating the Heart of the Midday Darkness across its tarry body. Both the beast and Gibson let out a roar as life fluid from both fell to the ground.

Monson attacked again, letting loose a series of violent hacks and slashes, many of which Gibson was barely able to block.
u
p above, the Midday Darkness continued his mimicry.
e
ach time Monson or Brian Gatt landed a blow, both of their respective opponents felt the cut. The once-smug Gibson, now clearly sweating, began to grow desperate as he realized the direness of his situation.

In one fateful crash between him and Monson, the stress of his injuries and his inability to move freely finally caught up to him; both boy and gray-skinned monster anticipated the outcome. Monson disarmed him with a heavy spin of body followed by blade. Gibson’s golden blade followed the momentum of Monson’s sword until it was pulled completely out of his hand, flying in the air and landing a good distance away. Monson leveled his blade at Gibson, wanting to strike, but hesitated.

“Well played, Monson Grey.
y
ou are smarter than you seem. Very clever of you to coordinate your attacks to take advantage of the Controller’s symmetry.
t
hough regrettable, I really cannot complain too much.
t
he Controller is the one item that keeps the beast under control.
w
ithout it, the Aram No Abidi is a mindless machine. If let loose on this planet it would destroy the bulk of its population within a few days.
a
pity, really.
t
hat would be a sight to see…. All in good time, I suppose, once my master returns.”

Monson’s anger reached its boiling point.
h
e struck Gibson cleanly across the face with the butt of his sword. Gibson went flying, landing close to a stirring Cyann. Her movement caused Monson to
breathe
a sigh of relief, though Gibson was too close to her. Luckily, Damion’s River’s Serenity was
also
close enough to her that if she needed to, she could protect herself
–
assuming she had the strength to pick it up. Monson turned his attention back to Gibson, who was spitting blood.