Infinity Blade 01- Awakening

where her armor joined.
    The sword in his hand began to glow softly. He could almost hear it humming.
    Saydhi backed away. She stared at that sword; he could see her eyes behind the mask. “Is it true?” she whispered. There was a tremor to her voice.
    Siris attacked, driven by the Dark Thoughts. She raised her polearm in one hand and—ring recharged—turned her other palm at him, letting out a burst of fire.
    He should have prepared for it. He knew she had a ring, like the ones he’d used. He had simply grown accustomed to his foes not having that advantage, and his mind was not clear.
    The fire took him in the chest. His armor instantly became an oven, his skin searing, then charring. It crusted against the metal intended to protect him. Siris screamed, dropping to his knees, smelling the acrid smell of his own burning flesh.
    She chuckled, lowering her hand. “I wonder whom to test the sword on. Raidriar himself, perhaps? He thinks he can saunter in here whenever—”
    Siris stopped listening. He activated his ring.
    The healing came in a rush of energy and new skin, in the sensation of sudden motion . His heartbeat, like a thundering river. His breathing, in and out, fast as a drumbeat. His hair grew, his fingernails curled in his gauntlets, and the pain vanished. As she stepped to him, he stood—
    —and in a fluid motion, he rammed the Infinity Blade up into her chest, right under the breastplate.
    She gasped. “No . . . but you can’t . . .”
    He ripped the blade free and stepped back, the sword glowing with a pulsing flash that matched the one coming from Saydhi’s own body. It built, like a concentrated bonfire, then burst out of her in an explosion of light.
    She collapsed.
    Siris fell to his knees, gasping for breath in the quiet, open-walled building. A few leaves blew past, carrying a chill wind that blew through his faceplate. His armor still felt hot enough to burn him, though not as badly as it had before.
    I’ve killed another, he thought. Had her answer about the Worker been truth, or was that a lie?
    He stumbled to his feet, then checked on the fallen Deathless, just to be certain. That strike hadn’t been part of the forms; it had been brutal, guttural, and desperate. It had also been effective. No signs of life. Underneath her mask, she was quite pretty. He shook his head, then rose.
    He didn’t want to remain too long, in case other Deathless—or guards—came. For now he seemed alone, so he checked her throne, hoping for another mirror that could answer his questions.
    He didn’t find one. Behind the throne, however, he did see something that he hadn’t noticed before. A small stone obelisk, with a familiar shape carved into its front.
    He froze. There had been one similar to this in the dungeon of the God King’s castle. Placing the Infinity Blade into it, like a key, had opened a pathway to the dungeons. That had made sense—the God King possessed the only Infinity Blade, so using it as a key had been rational, to an extent.
    But this obelisk also had the imprint of the Infinity Blade on it, and it was in Saydhi’s gardens.
    Suddenly, nothing made sense. What was it really? Did all of the Deathless have these obelisks—and if so, could they open them? He raised a gauntleted hand to his helm.
    What is happening? he thought. I’ve been lied to at some point along the way. But when?
    He hesitated, then stepped forward, slipping the Infinity Blade into the ‘keyhole’ of the obelisk. It fit perfectly. What would it open? What secrets would he—
    The obelisk dropped sharply into the ground.
    Reacting quickly, Siris snapped his three fingers together to summon the blade back. Nothing happened.
    “Yes,” a voice said speculatively, “I thought you might fall for that.”
    Siris spun. The God King stood behind him. The creature wore new armor, shaped somewhat like he’d worn before, almost organic in feel. Siris recognized him, even with the change. The voice . . . he knew that voice.
    Oh, hell.
    “You opened the pathway to my dungeons,” the God King said. “I know you killed the prisoners there. Not to mention Archarin, which is a pity. He was a useful servant.” The God King strolled past—Siris could see where he’d come from, a doorway that had risen up from the grass beside the building.
    Desperate, Siris snapped his fingers together again.
    “That will not work,” the God King noted. “You don’t think we’d create a means of teleportation