Okay. So, funny thing. The scepter or staff or whatever does a lot more than being a good mace.


    Xander stood, both hands grasping the shaft, and lifted it into the air, slamming it down. Instead of making a barrier or magic wall or whatever, the orb glimmered and released multiple shockwaves of energy in quick succession that knocked nearby things back with massive force. It even did damage if you were wearing anything with a rough texture. That attack could collapse buildings if he was close enough.


    Again, he stood, but this time, instead of slamming it down, he lifted it even higher and stretched it upward. That was apparently a ‘call for help’ card that let him summon a knight for protection that stayed until it died. Sadly for him, he couldn’t have more than two active at a time.


    These bodyguards weren’t actual people, though. They were just armor with a semi-transparent, spectral-looking body inside of it that lacked a face. Like a mannequin.


    Not to mention, it emitted light at all times and had a really wide radius. It looked to be ten feet in all directions. Really helped him during that fight. The entity or whatever he fought against blended really well with the darkness, so without it, he might not have survived.


    That was all he’d found out. Swinging it around, slamming it into the ground, or throwing it had no effect except for being able to double as a mace in self-defense situations.


    However, as for the house they commandeered, it wasn’t in good condition. They’d accidentally made a hole in the wall and the floor. Plus shattering multiple pictures. The papers were, somehow, unharmed, and so they placed them back on the table in a neat stack. They were of a family, happy. Most of the pictures were taken in one place, somewhere that looked like an orchard.


    Xander looked around. These people had already evacuated. Most everything they had was gone. Only thing left was big furniture too big to carry, like the TV, and couches, recliners, alongside other padded, heavy things.


    The moon shone as it continued the large arc across the sky. The clock said four-fifteen. All he wanted to do was sleep. But the situation around him was too delicate to leave uncontrolled.


    ”What now?” He asked. Avery shrugged. The other girl was sleeping with her head on the table, silent. The night was also silent. It lacked any creaking of tree branches or bugs calling out, no cars flying by and no rumbling of leaves. It was odd. Then again, the whole night had been odd, and he wasn’t a stranger to odd by now.


    Nobody answered his question. He sighed and made way over to the kitchen, going through mostly empty cabinets and finding tons of spices but almost nothing else. On the other side, he found a bag of Goldfish and one of those giant containers for Hawaiian Punch both sitting out on the counter. Neither had been opened and both containers showed no signs of tampering, so after he searched a little longer and locating another unopened bag of Goldfish (flavor blasted this time), he returned to them.


    Unsurprisingly, both had fallen asleep. Xander decided to wait out his hunger and went ahead with securing most of the entrances, minus a few windows, by putting broken / stolen boards lodged in place or just locking them, if they had a lock. All of the blinds were shut, and the curtains were pulled, negating all light-sources aside from the scepter, which he promptly sat in the center of the table, hidden beneath a magazine to as to somewhat dim the room.


    Even with all those preparations, Xander felt uncomfortable with sleeping. It has already been proven anything could go wrong at any time. Whenever he reminded himself of the guards, though, he just called two and let them patrol outside while he did finally get some well-deserved rest.


    …


    He awoke to the sound of silence and feeling of immense fear, and the physical feeling of being drenched in sweat. It wasn’t great. The stranger’s couch did not make for a good sleeping arrangement, and what made that worse was the fact they left their mattresses behind. All that time, on a couch, the other two in recliners, when they actually had beds. Wow.


    But, hey, can’t complain about the fact he did actually sleep. Even though he only slept for two hours. It was the best two hours he’d had in a long time, in fact, but waking up felt like hell. Especially considering his current state. So many spots were sore. So many. Even more spots that felt as if they were caught aflame in the shower last night.


    His left arm, which caught that appendage yesterday, didn’t want to move. His right eye, as you already know, is no longer in commission. His gut hurt really bad, mainly because of the giant bruise there. Some of his body was burnt from the stinger’s acid that had nicked him.


    The bandages, overnight, had been somewhat come off and revealed a pale pink color around most of the slashes. The one on his arm was also slightly bruised, so he figured that he’d be refraining from using it for a bit.


    He grabbed the half-removed athletic tape and began to place more paper towels on it, until he thought about it and checked around the bathroom again. Any medkits could be helpful. Or something along those lines.


    While he considered it, though, he thought about it getting infected. The odds were already low as long as he kept it out of the cold.


    The other two had yet to wake up as Xander unwrapped his bicep from the black athletic tape. He put a stolen hoodie on, opening the door and feeling the cool air flow in. Not near as bad as yesterday night.


    <i>What do I do now?</i>


    He thought about that question for a good second. It had a variety of good answers. Go find out what’s happening and stop it. Make a stronghold against these things. Gather a group and survive together. All of the answers seemed very ambitious, to say the least, but he felt like bringing anybody along with him would end up badly. Especially normal people. But, even if there were more people like him, what would <i>they </i>be doing? Probably not what he was. Power corrupts absolutely, after all, and especially when given to the right, or technically, wrong people.


    But what about himself? Did that rule apply to him, despite the fact he knew it well?


    Was he really any better than the norm?


    <i>Wait. Is there any way I can get stronger? Or am I stuck here?</i>


    He pondered over that for a second, too. It wouldn’t make sense being like this. Some of these things, according to the government and photos taken in highly populated areas, were way stronger than a few knights and some shockwaves. He might could hit it, but it would be essentially negated. There’s no way he could stay at this level. Not if he really wanted to be of some use in the future.


    If he did attempt to get stronger, he assumed it could be in some physical form. Maybe dead entities left behind some energy to absorb? No, that doesn’t make sense.


    Then maybe it does come in the form of practice, study and training. He’d initially found that conclusion to be stupid, considering this power he had and it’s (possible) origin, which he assumed was from God, but seeing as how God made building muscle and intelligence the same way, it suddenly wasn’t nearly as stupid as before.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    And now, back onto the topic of the girls. He had a few options, none of which he particularly liked. Leave them here, alone. Tell them he was leaving. Stay, stay for a little while and <i>then </i>leave. Each had its benefits. All of them had cons that outweighed those benefits. Pick your poison.


    He felt like waiting until they woke up, telling them he was leaving, and then going.


    The reason he wanted to leave was because he left like he had an obligation. One, to stay alive, and two, to help other people stay alive, and bringing some semi-useful people along the way seemed like more of a waste than a bonus. It slowed him down, firstly, and secondly, that’s just adding two more innocent people to a dangerous situation, if he enters one. But he did feel like he somewhat owed them.


    …


    It wasn’t a heartfelt goodbye. Just a good-luck old friend type of goodbye that had no emotion to it. Turns out Avery was his older brother’s ex-girlfriend. They were dating for a good few years and they eventually became like siblings, but after her and his brother broke up, they stopped seeing each other at gatherings and events and just stopped texting each other at all.


    Anyway. Aside from that, they dropped him off at a gas station, gave themselves a full tank with that ex-gas station cashier experience and left. That whole altercation felt abrupt, like a bump in the road. Surprised all of them, but after, they forgot about it and left.


    As for his debt, they got to take his parent’s gun. It was a shotgun, twelve gauge, and they also took a couple of shells. He didn’t like that at all, but it was what they wanted, and they did help him recover. Even if for one day.


    He was left with a backpack that had a giant pack of water bottles and tons of gas station food. The backpack he’d stolen from that house. It was a big one, a hiking backpack, and when he obtained it, it was empty. While that was annoying, it left him enough room for all of those waters and bags of chips, granola and protein bars, multiple lighters, beef jerky, and tons of other things to keep him satiated. The bag weighed a ton, though, so one of his bodyguards were drafted to carry it.


    “Sir. If I may ask, where is your destination?” One asked, walking alongside him with a halberd hoisted on its back. Xander just shrugged as they continued down the road, waiting on a sign to tell him where in the world he was going.


    ”I guess we don’t really have a destination. I just want to know how to get stronger, and once we do that, we can start to figure out what’s really going on.”


    ”I see… I myself do not know, but I believe that you will find what you seek.” He said obediently, one hand holding the solar-chargeable power bank and his phone beneath it. Xander nodded to him. The other bodyguard occasionally grunted with effort in a distorted voice while walking. The straps of the bag had to be adjusted for it to carry the bag properly because of the armor. Xander suggested removing it, but the knight explained that the armor is linked to the body within in. Removing a piece of the armor will remove the body part it protected. Can’t say it made sense, but he understood.


    Xander cleared his mind of that and looked onto the road. There was a long way ahead to go. How far? He didn’t know. All he had a was a feeling. A feeling that he hoped would lead him where he was needed.


    …


    An hour later, as they got nearer and nearer to wherever their destination was, the terrain subtly and slowly became colder and colder. The distance ahead of them was clouded over, and a dark fog set in. It wasn’t that bad, but it was difficult to see any more than fifty feet ahead.


    Xander noticed this and pulled to a stop after noticing white specks in the fog, descending slowly.


    <i>Is that ash?</i>


    It continued descending. As he exhaled, the white plume made him realize just how cold it really was- it was snowing. The buildup was already evident in the pits to either side of the road, and it wasn’t fog- it was just snowing that hard. And there was a figure in the distance. Approaching them.


    Xander’s joints suddenly felt still. The cold had gotten to him faster than he’d even noticed it was there. All of his muscles were stiff, and gripping the scepter, he wasn’t sure if he could deal with another fight at all, let alone in this weather. Even with help.


    “Get ready to dive on the ground if I try to use Shockwave, alright?” He asked. Both of the knight nodded and looked forward. The figure was approaching slowly, but now that they were visible, it was made obvious they weren’t a ‘figure’.


    His mind boomed, almost making him flinch, with the words ‘BLIZZARD INCARNATE’. Why? He had no idea. But, as the snow was falling harder and harder, he had a feeling the next few minutes of this trip weren’t going to go as smoothly as the last had.


    As it approached, he looked at each knight, nodded, and watched them both hit the ground as he lifted the scepter. It shone with a gleam, releasing a bright white light that reflected from the snowflakes, and suddenly went dark as the scepter hit the ground at maximum force.


    Xander’s grip around the shaft tightened as the center of the orb shone, pushing a pulse toward the outside of it and releasing it, knocking back every single snowflake in the area so far and so fast that the whole place was cleared of it in one wave of energy. The person approaching held up one hand, their coat flowing in the wind, and their whole form was revealed to him. He had pale skin and no shirt beneath the long, leather overcoat. He had pants on beneath it, and bandages covered his entire face.


    As the shockwave made contact with them, the bandages began to rip. His hand went straight to his face as they were ripped off by the wind, so as not to reveal something.


    He put one foot back, balancing him against the shockwaves. As his knee hit the ground, however, his face suddenly lit up- not metaphorically. It was like he’d become a star, the gleam blinding Xander. He squinted and barely managed to see that it wasn’t his face, but something on it. He caught a glimpse of it when his light dimmed.


    A third eye, placed vertically on his forehead. Ice grew on his fingertips, extending up his arm to make some sort of armor, in combination with little glowing circles, in some semblance of a fungus.


    Xander squinted further, trying to make out what he was doing. His hands were covering his eye.


    The last shockwave went out, speeding toward him. As it did, he dropped to both of his knees, let his arms out as if they were wings, and screamed.


    A beam, pale blue, cut straight through the shockwave and made some sort of purple ice on anything it hit or was nearby. His face moved, pain evident on his features and movements.


    Xander dropped to the floor, the immense power exuding from it combined with its erratic movements making for a destructive combination.


    Trees were shot from their trunk and connected by the ice, the beam turning and contorting like a giant snake, destroying everything in its path.


    The ice buildup made the atmosphere purple, the snow’s color changing. It had cut through the shockwave and completely dispersed its energy like a hot knife through butter, almost effortlessly. It was quickly made clear he had no control of it, so Xander stood, staying low, and made his knights come with him.


    ”Restrain his head. Make it face straight forward.” He said, crouching and moving while avoiding the blue beam of pure cold. The energy behind it had made trenches of ice in the ground, severed trees reconnected and frozen, completely still as if in a block of resin.


    One of his knights moved forward, getting closer and grabbing his arm. The person whipped around, cutting the armor and spectral body within it into two pieces. As his head whipped back around, it beheaded the poor knight, whose body hit the snowy ground with a thud.


    Xander got up, sprinting toward him. He used his scepter to guard from the beam, even though he wasn’t sure it would even hit him, or work if it did.


    It whipped around once again, throwing up snow into the air, making cold smokescreens to block Xander and the other knight’s approach.


    Xander ducked beneath it, moving slowly until it went up into the sky and into the other direction. He got up, running for him. Each step felt like an hour, every movement attracting the beam. But he sprinted, until he could grasp the young man’s long-haired head.


    It was white, almost purple-ish, tainted by the fungus-like dots along his body, ice crawling along his torso, making a chest plate.


    With both hands around the his head, Xander gripped. He felt the shaking, the pounding on the inside of it, of something wanting out.


    Not just something. More things. So many things, trapped within his head, making this beam perforate the cold.


    Tears fell from his eyes, and through the beam’s overpowering sound, he asked for help again, in a soft voice, tired of the pain. Xander felt it, a bit of his pain, for one instant. As he held him, he felt it, the pain in his mind.


    It was so cold.


    He didn’t know what to do but hold him still. Quell the voices. Insert his own. But how?


    The palms of Xander’s hands, cold from the energy exuding from the man’s temples, suddenly froze in the purple ice, encrusted with the cold.


    The knight rushed over, using the halberd to knock the ice off. But it wouldn’t budge. It was too strong.


    Xander pushed against them with all his might, making a fist, grabbing the ice within his prison of it.


    His scepter appeared with in right hand, shattering the ice around the man’s head. Its materialization had suddenly cut off the beam, a giant amalgamation of the purple ice in front of them. Deep within it, there was a blue light, pulsating.


    The formation of the man’s armor had finished. His helmet slowly formed, and once it finished, he stood up. In the center of each plate of his armor, there was a circle of the fungi, a bioluminescent white glowing circle, hollow on the inside.


    Xander backed up. His hands were bleeding, bits of ice still attached. He looked at the man as he got up and turned around.


    He was crying. Tears with shards of ice in them fell from his two eyes, while his third stared dead at Xander and was filled with rage.