That proved ineffective, as it simply jumped to that hand and began coating that arm as well.
She started screaming, still trying to yank it off to no avail.
“Oh for…” Merlin scoffed. “Would you relax? It’s merely fitting itself to you.”
Elan didn’t listen to him as the material reached her torso and began to cover her leather vest, dissolving the material away almost instantly. Her eyes widened and she redoubled her efforts to try and scrape it off. “It’s eating my clothing!”
“Just the organic matter,” Merlin replied. “If you wanted to keep it, you should have removed it first.”
“You didn’t say anything about any of that!?”
The specter just shrugged. “I can hardly think of everything, now, can I?”
By this point the material had covered her torso, and while Elan started to get the idea that it wasn’t hurting her but wouldn’t be coming off, she was still trying to pull it away from her throat as it began climbing up to her face.
“Stop this crazy thing!” she screamed as it flowed over her face, and the world went black.
Merlin watched her for a moment, then rolled his eyes to the ceiling and reached out to touch her now covered forehead.
The light returned to Elan as she could suddenly see again, though her vision was now filled with words and numbers, lines and colors she didn’t understand. She blinked, taking a few breaths to be certain that she could do so properly, and finally started to relax enough to glare at Merlin rather than scream in panic.
“That was not funny!” She glowered.
“Am I laughing?” Merlin asked, his tone flat. “The armor you now wear once cost more than a rich man’s home. Billions would have envied you the chance to simply put it on, so please cease the hysterics and let us get on with this. You’ll also need what’s left in the compartment.”
Not willing to trust him again, Elan peered in while carefully keeping her distance.
“What is it?” she asked, looking at the single remaining object.
“Your weapon.”
It didn’t look like any weapon she’d ever seen. It was perhaps like the hilt of a blade, but oddly curved. She supposed that it might fit her grip well, but at most it would be a rather short club, in her estimation.
“I’ll find my sword when I get back,” she said, stepping away from it.
“I’ll not send you back anywhere if you’re not equipped to have a chance of surviving the experience,” Merlin snapped. “Pick up the damned sidearm, you stubborn child!”
Elan glared at the spectral man, who just glared right back.
“I can do this all century,” he said after a few seconds, “but I believe you have somewhere you want to be. Choose.”
She glared for a few seconds more before breaking her gaze away reluctantly and, though she would never admit it, with a rather childlike pout, picked up the odd handle and let it slide into her grip. As she’d guessed, it fit like it was formed to her hand. She was just a little surprised; it had seemed a bit large resting there, but in her hand felt perfect. She just wished it were a decent blade.
Elan yelped and almost dropped the weapon as it changed in her hand, a long, thin blade…assembling itself in a rapid motion. She swallowed, testing the feel and balance of it. It weighed almost nothing at all. She had to strain to feel it at all.
“I…you said there were no swords here,” she said, shooting an accusing look at Merlin.
“There are not. That is a sidearm,” he told her. “It has as much in common with a sword as you do with an insect. Now, you are equipped as best I can manage in the limited time we have. Are you determined to return?”
“People are dying…or worse,” she said grimly.
“Very well, then we will return to the Gate,” Merlin said. “With me, again.”
Elan fell into step behind the specter, still testing the balance of the weapon in her hand. “This isn’t iron or steel.”
“No, it is not.”
“Demons are weak to iron. Will this work on them?” she asked.
“The ones you call demons have multiple weaknesses,” Merlin responded. “Some more so than others. Many are only marginally affected by iron, if at all. Silver works on many, in some cases fire or ultraviolet light. They are not a single species, and thus have many different characteristics.”
“I didn’t understand half of that,” Elan grumbled. “I just need to know if the sword will work.”
“The sidearm,” Merlin stressed, “is composed of carbon, a material just as lethal to the majority of demons as iron. Yes, it will work. Iron grounds out their access to subatomic energy fields, which negates the energetic defenses they employ. Carbon, however, directly disrupts their cellular structure. Only when delivered by a weapon, however, which makes no logical sense whatsoever…but like most things with the demons, logic seems optional. ‘Why’ is something no one ever worked out, I’m afraid.”
“As long as it works,” Elan said, still annoyed with the other being.
Merlin rolled his eyes, an affectation he was beginning to realize he may as well get used to using. Sending a child out to combat, no matter whether it was the child’s choice or not, was not strictly against his code, but that was only because no one had ever believed it necessary to be. The very idea was so abhorrent as to be ridiculous, a parody of reality in the years before the invasion. In those centuries of fighting, however, Merlin had seen…and done…far worse.
“What are all these numbers and lines in my eyes?” Elan complained as they walked. “They’re distracting.”
She yelped when Merlin gestured at her and all the distractions vanished.
“Those were merely an augmentation of your reality. I have disabled them for the moment,” he told her. “We will bring them back as you get used to the operation of the systems. For now, you are correct, they would merely be a distraction.”
“You can do…things to me while I’m wearing this?” Elan asked, worried.
“The armor has a full communication suite, so yes, I can connect and make changes,” Merlin answered simply. “Once you are fully trained in its use, you will be able to set lock-out codes to secure it, but for now…I believe the phrase is, live with it.”
She shot him another glare. “You’re a jerk, you know that, right?”
“And you, my dear, are a brat,” Merlin said with a peaceful equanimity that just annoyed her even more. “Here we are. This will take you back to the transport Gate. I am not able to project there. However, I will be able to speak with you and advise you. Good luck.”
Elan looked at the small room she remembered from earlier with a degree of trepidation as she reached up to touch her face.
“Isn’t there a way we can walk there?” she asked, hesitant to step into the room. “I don’t think I want to go through that…not with this on my face.”
“Why…?” Merlin blinked, then his expression cleared. “It was not the transport that caused you to vomit. That was caused by your concussion. I have treated the immediate symptoms, so you may transport with no ill effect. Besides, the armor would simply convert any expelled material to fuel, so you need not worry about the effects of vomiting while wearing it. It would not be pleasant, of course, but that is merely part of the process, sadly.”
She still looked at the room, clearly hesitant.
“Child, if you’re that afraid of a transport, you are clearly not prepared for the task you have set yourself.”
Elan glowered at Merlin again, then defiantly stomped into the room.