章 246: Chapter 244: A Soldier's Duty
Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!
Tessia Eralith
I descended into the Second Phase of my Elderwood Guardian Will on instinct as I faced off against the three noxious auras. My hair brightened to a verdant green, and vines erupted from the cobblestones in waves of silver blossoms. Beside me, Grandpa fell into the Integrate Stage of his Shadow Panther Will as well, his features gradually overcome with darkness. Dark motes of energy misted off his form as he became naught but shadow.
"Tessia," he said in a gravelly voice that carried a predator's undertone, his feline eyes locked on the Retainers, "you need to run. Now."
I didn't even wait a second to respond. "No," I hissed back, my hands clenching around my swordstaff. "There are three of them, Grandpa, and only one of you! I won't let you fight alone!"
Grandpa opened his mouth to say something else, but then the sickly one with green mana blades snorted. "Bivran, you have another mission. Mawar and I can handle these cretins."
The shorter Vritra-blooded mage–who had emerged from a tree not moments before–snarled. "Fine, brother. But you'll give me the spoils after. These trees resist my magic and I can't stand being in them too long."
My eyes widened as Bivran melted back into the tree. With my enhanced senses with Willow's insight, I could feel the path he was taking as he traveled supernaturally through the Elshire Oak, his path veering away from us and into the heart of Zestier. Like a buzzing fly that darted from branch to branch.
"You can't just run!" I snapped, putting a foot forward as I engaged my magic, prepared to tear Bivran from his hiding place. The Retainers had appeared in the middle of the most populated city in Elenoir, and if we let them near our people–
A bullet of black wind slammed into the ground in front of me as Mawar casually cast a dozen spells. I snarled as vines grew around me, the serpents of green batting each projectile away and resisting the decaying wind as best they could. Silver flowers blossomed, spewing mist that combatted the fell air as it sought to degrade my lungs.
Grandpa disappeared in a shadowy blur, less than an afterimage left behind as he sped toward Bilal. The Retainer cackled as he leveraged his dual-green mana blades, inviting the former king of Elenoir to try.
They became a flurry of blades and wind-enhanced claws as they bounced around the trees, the crash of their mana echoing across the forest. People screamed and ran as scythes of cutting wind and pustules of acidic rot ate at houses and homes.
I gritted my teeth, my eyes focusing into pinpricks as I spotted the leisurely Retainer high in the trees. She matched me with an expression that could've been apathetic.
I need to kill this one! I thought. And then I'll go after the other!
Vines as thick as trees erupted from the ground around me as I embraced my Will, and then I was lurching through the air. The verdant tendrils of blossoming life hauled me through the trees of Elshire at record speed as I approached the intruding Retainer.
The shadowy Retainer, however, didn't seem perturbed at my approach. She backed away slowly, balancing perfectly on the tree branch as tendrils of shadow emerged from beneath her dress. Each was black as pitch and disturbingly close to my very own vine-shroud spells.
Mawar's face furrowed into an expression of concentration as she glided away from me, sending out more tendrils of shadow and wind as I tried to close the gap. They twirled and danced with the hulking mass of my vines, the shadowy tentacles more than able to keep me at bay. My blossom-covered vines withered and decayed wherever they touched the shadows, but for every vine broken, another surged to take its place.
I alighted on the branch Mawar had just been on, before surging after her once more. The mists seemed to carry me along as I chased my foe, urging me to remove this trespasser in the elven domain. I jumped through the air, arcing to meet the Retainer as her tendrils of shadow tried to pull her toward another bough.
I conjured half a dozen vines around me like a celestial shell as I closed the gap with the wispy Retainer, the wind rushing past me as my magic dulled air resistance. My eyes flashed as I swung my swordstaff, intending to gore her through the chest. Instead, the silver of my mana-coated weapon skated off armor of solid shadow, more whips of darkness leaking from the cuts in Mawar's dress. Those cloying tendrils of darkness surged and snapped, trying to gore me and tear at my flesh.
But I was ready. Blossom-covered vines surged from my chest as well, lassoing around the Retainer's whips and holding them fast. Like an overly complicated knot, both of our conjured constructs tightened like shoestrings as they pulled fast.
I could feel her whips trying to eat away at the life-giving structure of my vines, but I wouldn't let them. With a flex of my will, the mist that always blanketed Elshire drifted closer, suffusing my vines as they decayed and bolstered them against the effect.
Mawar's scarlet eyes widened slightly as she was suddenly caught. Behind her, conjured whips of dark mana tried to pull her toward the boughs of the trees far above. On another end, her summoned constructs were locked in a deadly knot of conflict with mine. If she relinquished even an ounce of control on either end, I would find an opportunity to strike.
I drove my swordstaff into the bough of a nearby branch, using it to anchor myself before I could fall. Gritting my teeth, I heaved on the mana in my core, demanding it to flow across my channels. "You are a fool, Retainer," I bit out as I began to strain, pulling on her tendrils as more and more mist surged around us. "You challenge an elf in Elshire! The very air you breathe clouds your senses!"
My arms strained as sweat beaded on my brow, but then I heard it. An echoing crack of splintering wood. One, then two. And finally, the branch Mawar had been trying to use to escape gave way.
It exploded in a shower of wooden shrapnel as Mawar slingshotted toward me. In barely an instant, I ripped my swordstaff from the wood, bolstering it against my side like a lance. The unnaturally pale Retainer was primed to impale herself like a fruit upon the end as she rebounded with the force of our conjoined tendrils.
But then the Retainer did something that I hadn't expected. Even as I fell–and Mawar hurtled–she managed to adjust herself slightly as she approached, her tendrils snapping and moving in a strange way.
Her deep red eyes flashed as my swordstaff scored a cut along her side, drawing dark blood that splattered across our intertwined constructs, before she smashed into me shoulder-first with the force of an iron hyrax. My vines tried to redirect to protect me, but they were busy in their interweave with Mawar's. The breath was driven from my lungs as I wheezed in pain, feeling the blow travel through my body.
We fell in tandem to the city streets below. I blinked, trying to get my bearings. Willow crooned in my core.
"That might have worked once upon a time," Mawar's soft voice said into the air, "but I fought someone once who taught me about terrain advantage."
And suddenly, she was barely a breath away. Mawar's hands reached out, our tendrils and vines battling and snapping and surging around us like angry Darvish sand-octopi. But despite it all, the Vritra-blooded woman had somehow managed to get in close.
"I know everything the mists do for you, Princess Eralith," she whispered softly. "And I won't let them work. I've always found myself fighting at a disadvantage. It's nothing new, really."
I felt panic swell as the ground rushed to meet us, but the Retainer–who was still trying to grapple with me–had a carefully cool face that showed the barest inflection of concentration as my back approached.
If I hit the ground, I'll take all the damage, I thought quickly, the wind shifting my hair into an inverted curtain of bright green as I fell. It weaved and darted past my face just like the automatic defenses of my vines. I need to change this!
I called on the mana in my core, directing it to the atmosphere around us. The mists eddied and swirled as they washed over us both, and the Retainer startled in confusion as they surged across her face, blocking her vision and robbing her of every sense imaginable.
At the same time, a large vine–easily bigger than a house–thrust from the ground like the world's greatest natural spear. Flowers the size of my entire body bloomed along it, breathing eddies of illusory fog. The elves along the streets screamed in fear as they were thrown from their feet and pelted with bits of rubble, but I couldn't afford to shift my attention.
The titanic limb of living forest wrapped around us both, slowly constricting as it curled in on itself like the slow vise of an anaconda. Down and down and down we went, the pressure increasing more and more as my mana core squeezed.
I exhaled, allowing myself to be drawn in and through the vine. I flowed like the wind as I pushed past the burning in my arms, before I emerged near the base of the vine.
I rolled as I emerged from the sea of green, thicker around than most Elshire oaks. I exhaled as I snapped to my feet, taking in the state of the battlefield with a soldier's trained precision. If I focused my hearing, I could hear the echoing clashes of Grandpa's fight with the other Retainer. The wicked pulse of their power was tangible even from where I stood, shadow panther and basilisk blood vying for supremacy.
But my focus was drawn away from the far-distant battle as the sounds of boots on cobbles, cries of terror, and shouts for order as I noted a few soldiers darting about as they ran to try and assist wherever they could. Their mana flared as they tried to both tend to citizens wounded by the crossfire and approach me in scores to help me in battle.
"Assist our people!" I snapped at them, focusing on a leading elven captain. Albold Chaffer, I thought. "Get them away and to safety! You can't afford to intervene!"
Mawar was still trapped within the grip of the vine. With the mist assaulting her senses and the vine pressing against her, she shouldn't be able to–
My eyes widened in surprise as I sensed a change in the Retainer's mana. It deepened and darkened for an instant, even as the vine continued to try and squeeze the life from her lungs.
"Brace!" I yelled, conjuring a wall of stalwart vines in front of me. They thrust through the cobblestones like angry swords, raising a protective wall between the Retainer and the soldiers behind me. "Brace for impact!"
The house-sized vine constraining the Retainer shuddered–then exploded. Shrapnel blew outward in an omnidirectional wave as it carried the broken remnants of my spell like a hundred miniature arrows.
I braced against my conjured wall of vines, feeling and hearing as each spear of decimated plant matter embedded itself into my living barrier. I gritted my teeth as the shockwave traveled over me, but the soldiers and civilians behind me were spared the worst.
When it was done, I lowered my wall hesitantly, my sweat-slick hands gripping my swordstaff like a lifeline. I could feel the strain of using my Beast Will for so long, but it wasn't nearly as strenuous as it was before. I steadied my breathing as I shifted back into stance, aware of the elves behind me as they evacuated into the mists.
I focused on the center of the decimated street, knowing my foe waited there.
Mawar had changed. Her pale, bone-white skin was now an ebony so deep it seemed to drink in the light. Her eyes had shifted to a feline, amber gleam that promised me vengeance. And her aura–it swelled and redoubled as it pulsed outward, pushing the mists themselves away. I could feel Willow's anger as the decaying shadow-winds radiating from Mawar's body ate away at the protective fog.
Paint paint paint, Willow seethed as the mists eroded around Mawar, gone gone gone!
The Vritra rolled her shoulders, a snarl growing on her face as she looked down at her arm. It was clearly dislocated, the thin shoulder wrenched cleanly from its socket. A dribble of blood spilled down the edge of her mouth.
The Retainer grabbed her arm, then grunted as she shoved it back into the socket with an audible crack. When she glared back at me, I could finally see the kindling embers of rage and anger in her eyes. "You're better than you should be, Princess," she snapped, her aura surging. "I guess we'll have to do this the hard way."
I exhaled, then moved back into my fighting stance. I leveled my swordstaff at the Retainer, feeling confident in my abilities to handle her, even with this new form of hers. "You'll see there's a lot you pathetic Alacryans don't know about me, Mawar Vritra," I shot back. "Underestimating me will lead to your death."
Behind me, the civilians finally managed to clear their ways from the street.
Perfect, I thought, ready to surge back into the fight.
But then I felt something blurring towards me, the mists conveying quiet companionship as a blade of crescent green surged through the low light.
Acting on barely a hint of instinct and the long training I'd done with Lord Aldir, I weaved to the side, watching with wide eyes as the second Retainer–Bilal–seemed to phase into existence with absurd speed. His blade of bright, caustic green mana severed half a dozen strands of my hair as I haphazardly avoided his surprise attack, his beady eyes gleaming as his dark hair clung to his head.
I pivoted, desperately trying to right my balance as something else surged toward my sternum. Bilal was covered in a dozen cuts and weeping wounds, but still, he forged on as he tried to drive a syringe toward my chest. A needle glinted, filled with a familiar dark liquid.
And then Grandpa was there, a wisp of shadow as his claws scraped against Bilal's arm. The Retainer hissed in pain as he was forced to retract the syringe, backpedaling away from the once-King of Elenoir. But Grandpa was faster.
With the force of a hurricane wind, he shifted his stance, driving his fist into Bilal's unprotected stomach. The Retainer's eyes bulged out of his wiry little head as the air was driven from his lungs. I thought I could hear something crack.
Then, with the flowing grace of long practice, Grandpa pirouetted around a haphazard swipe of Bilal's mana blade, before he struck the Retainer solidly in the sternum.
Bilal's scarecrow-like body shot away as wind erupted from Virion's blow, sending him smashing into the ruins of a nearby house. Dust flew as stone crumbled.
But despite his victory in the short scuffle, Grandpa was covered in nearly as many cuts as the Retainer, and he heaved for breath just as his foe. Slow rivulets of blood traced down his hardened physique. Little bits of acid and rot littered his shadow-clad form, and I could tell from the narrowing of his eyes that he was feeling the strain of using his Beast Will for so long.
"Tessia," Grandpa said sharply, his breath short, "you need to track the other Alacryan! They've got another target, little one! You need to go now! We have this handled!"
Mawar's eyes narrowed as she glared at us, but she didn't make a move, rightly worried about trying to test both Grandpa and me at once. But I couldn't leave my Grandpa to fight this battle alone.
But then something in the atmosphere changed. I noticed it first, my ears twitching as the mist sensed their sister's call. I perked up, my eyes going wide as I felt the incoming effects. Grandpa didn't react, though I had no doubt he knew what was coming as well.
Mawar barely had time to react as Aya's wind-clad form phased into existence, before slamming into her. I heard a howl of pain and anger as the two blurred through the misty streets, furrows of wind–both fell and whole–trailing in their wake as the assassin made her mark.
Thank you, Aya! I thought, reining my mana in as I focused on where Grandpa had thrown the other Retainer. Bilal was pulling himself from the rubble now, and he looked angrier than I'd ever seen him. The syringe of dark liquid churned in his grip, making phantom pains radiate from my mana core. My eyes widened as I recognized the putrid toxin.
That's what Spellsong ripped from my core, I thought, taking a step back involuntarily as my vines churned in agitation. The same corruption! And he was trying to stab me with it!
"Go, Tessia!" Grandpa said, sweat and blood mixing as they coursed along his skin. "Go now! The teleportation gate! That's where they're headed!"
My eyes widened as his words registered with me. If Bivran was heading to the teleportation gate, then–
"But I can't leave you, Grandpa!" I said, grasping his shoulders. "Please! You don't know if you'll win! I can see it in your eyes! You don't have to fight him alone! Together, we can beat him easily, then we can go!" I tried, feeling panic swell as my heart raced.
"You have your orders, soldier!" Grandpa shouted, his mana straining as he placed himself between me and Bilal. "See to the enemy in our home! Do your duty! This is the battlefield, Head Tessia Eralith! There is no place for sentiment!"
The words rang like a reverberating bell across my body, causing my throat to constrict as my heart clenched painfully. My eyes darted to the syringe in Bilal's hands, to Grandpa, and then toward the teleportation gates as I struggled to make a decision.
But Grandpa, no… Commander Virion was right. The battlefield was no place for sentiment. I was a soldier, and that meant I sacrificed what I wanted for the sake of my continent.
I felt my emotions even out as I finally found direction. I snapped a quick salute to my Commander as he faced off against the existential threat to all of Zestier. "Understood, Commander," I said sharply.
And then I was moving, the mists carrying me toward my goal. Behind me, I could hear Bilal's enraged voice as he tried to pursue, but Grandpa's angry howls and wind-enforced strikes kept him at bay.
I would trust him. I had to trust him.
Because Grandpa was right. Bivran had been running toward the teleportation gates, and any tampering with them could spell doom to the entirety of Elshire.
The mists carried me as the resounding clashes of both battles echoed around me, each creak of metal and barrage of spellfire making the streets tremble and crack.
It didn't take long for me to spot the teleportation gate. And what I saw made my heart quake with fear.
A squadron of elven soldiers lay decimated, all in various states of broken heaps. Caustic mana sizzled and popped through the air as a sole fighter put up a desperate last stand against Bivran.
My eyes widened as I spotted who the struggling warrior was–but then dipped into something even more horrified as I spotted one of the broken bodies laying in the street.
Albold Chaffer was the only mage left standing, despite his many wounds. His gray eyes burned with terrified determination as he stood tall against the loping predator that was Bivran. "You know, I would have expected more from one of the monarchs of this country," he mocked, clearly enjoying how Albold shuddered, "but it seems that even I–"
I yelled in fury as I phased onto the teleportation gate's platform in a windswept blur, vines writhing angrily as I emerged in front of Bivran. He didn't even notice my approach, too focused on toying with his prey. Too entranced by the bloodshed.
The Vritra didn't even have the time to blink in surprise before my vines wrapped around his throat. His smile–which he'd been directing at a specific woman on the ground–cut off as the blood flow to his brain began to slow. He choked and wheezed as I held him in a grip, his acid trying and failing to decay my vines.
"You fucking monster," I hissed, seeing only red. Then my swordstaff gored him through the chest, tearing a bloody streak through his core and eviscerating his spine. I watched the light go from his eyes–filled with more disbelief than pain–before I hurled his body to the ground.
For good measure, I conjured half a dozen vines as thick as my torso, allowing them to slam into the corpse over and over and over and over again. My breathing hitched as I whirled on my feet, feeling tears prick at the edges of my vision as I darted toward one of the bodies laid out before the teleportation gates.
"Mom," I said nervously, my hands shaking as I inspected her poison-ridden form. "You'll be okay. We'll get you to the emitters."
Her eyes were closed, her face clenched in a mask of pain as she shuddered, clearly unconscious. When I laid my hands on her chest, I could feel the Vritra-tinged mana eating its way through her mana veins, seeking her core and leaving horrid poison in its wake.
Clearly, my mother had put herself between the wretched Vritra and our teleportation gates, risking life and limb for our people. Tears threatened to fall from my eyes as I made note of her wounds, before looking over the rest of the broken soldiers around me.
"Captain Chaffer," I said, my voice wavering as I pulled myself to my feet, "you need to organize a defense around the teleportation gates. The Alacryans want to create a route straight into our forest, and we don't know what sort of devices they might have."
What did I need to do next? I was the Princess of Elenoir. It was my duty to lead. To take charge when… when nobody else could.
I forced my jaw to stop trembling as I wrapped my arms beneath my mother's, holding her in a simple princess carry. Her head lolled sickeningly, her skin deathly pale rather than the healthy, milky tone I was used to. Green writhed beneath her muscles, standing out starkly against the alabaster of her flesh.
My vines stopped beating the corpse of Bivran into bloody mush. I stood on shaky feet, holding my mother close as I forced my thoughts into something more deliberate. Willow sent encouragement over our bond, trying her best to help me focus. Help me be a Princess.
"Guard this gate with your life, soldier," I said. "I will be taking Councilwoman Merial to the Emitters Guild, along with all I can carry. Any order you give henceforth bears the weight of the Eralith House."
Albold nodded slowly, his choppy blonde hair matted to his head by sweat. "As you command, Princess Tessia," his tone of utmost respect. Entirely unlike the simpering soldiers who tried to treat me like a glass sculpture. Like something that would break at the slightest nudge.
Maybe there was a time when that would have filled me with pride and joy. I was being taken seriously! When I levied a command, people listened. Listened as they did to Dad. Like they did to Grandpa. Like they did to Arthur.
But as I wrapped as many dying bodies as I could with my vines, doing my best to be gentle even as the toxic decay ate its way through their mana channels and veins, I realized I found no satisfaction in the sensation. Not right now, when so much was at stake. When any second could spell death for those I cared for.
I bounded down the streets, quietly determined even as the clashes of power continued to radiate through Zestier. I knew the paths through the elven capital by heart–no, by soul. As I ran through the battle-torn streets, I called out to any I could, ordering civilians to take cover and for soldiers to amass at certain points. Reinforce Albold. Guard the choke points of the city. Ensure that nobody infiltrated key locations. As I ran, I allowed Willow to drift back toward my core. I didn't need her power right now, but nonetheless, she poured soothing water across my mind as I continued to act.
Everything was a blur as I moved through the city, absently commanding a few water mages to put out fires that had started from the collapse of a few buildings. I forgot how to think. How to feel. How to even be as I continued my unerring line toward the Emitter's Guild.
And when I reached them, it was to a massive crowd of panicked people, all pressing for their loved ones to be healed or seen by the overwhelmed mages within. Yet as I arrived at the front, I hesitated. Could I command these people to step aside for me? For my mother and her–
"Make way for the Princess!" someone called, sparing me the need. "She has wounded! I repeat, make way!"
And as the crowd saw the limp form of my mother in their arms, they parted. Like a rock thrust into a river, every elf who saw the broken body of their former queen made way. Women put their hands to their mouths in shock and fear, while the men gritted their teeth and stared on in horror at the form in my hands.
I set the soldiers I'd carried with my vines down around me, feeling only half aware as I started trudging toward the clinic. My feet were heavy and my mind was clouded with a fog not of Elshire as I kept my Beast Will close to the surface of my skin.
I blinked as a man approached–a human I didn't recognize. His glasses were haphazard on his crooked nose, and his expression was one of barely-contained anxiety as he looked over the former queen of Elenoir.
"I can try," he said quickly, "try to help her. I'll do my best, Lady Eralith, but–"
I whirled as I sensed a beacon of dark mana approaching. The people around me all fell to their hands and knees as the pressure overwhelmed them. I called Willow to the forefront of my mind once more as I put myself between the dark power and the people, feeling the beat of my heart increase as I clutched my mother desperately in my hands.
Mawar alighted atop a building not too distant from us. She was covered from head to toe in bloody cuts, and her dark skin seemed to absorb the equally-dark blood back into herself. Her amber eyes narrowed as they took in my form, the body in my hands, and then the healers around me.
My shoulders stiffened. With every second that passed, my mother dipped further and further into the abyss. I could feel as her core began to clench, her beautiful skin willowing away. I needed to get her to safety, but with the Retainer–
Mawar cocked her head. "Your mother?" she asked, her almost meek voice echoing.
I gnashed my teeth, refusing to respond. Where the hell was Aya? She couldn't be dead. I would have felt that, I was certain. My eyes shot to the Healers Guild not far behind me. If I dropped Mom off there, would I–
"Give her to the healers, Princess Eralith," Mawar said, her breathing strained. "She is uninvolved in our fight."
Her intent receded somewhat, allowing the healers and civilians around me to breathe as they cried out in renewed terror. Like startled skitters or terrified frostflies, they surged back, becoming more and more a mob as they struggled to get away from the Retainer, who stood like a dark scarecrow atop the distant building.
I swallowed. This could be a trap. Some kind of lure to get me to lower my defenses. But I couldn't afford to risk it.
I turned sharply, staring at the healer behind me. I didn't give him a chance to protest as I gently–but still forcefully–deposited my mother's body into his arms. He took a few steps back, seeming overwhelmed by the weight.
I swiveled on my heel, staring back up at the Retainer, watching her for any movement as the healer ran with my mother's body back toward his clinic. There was none.
I thought I saw something in her eyes as she watched my mother be taken into the clinic. Some sort of longing. Or maybe a distant memory.
I withdrew my swordstaff from my dimension ring, flourishing it as I prepared to fight once more. My mana channels ached from my previous battles and my constant trek through Zestier's streets, but–
Then something smashed into the building by my side, less than a blur of darkness. My eyes widened in surprise as I felt Grandpa's mana signature within the cloud of dust, but–
The dust cleared.
Grandpa laid broken in a pile of rubble, his Shadow Panther Beast Will receding as his mana lurched. As the shadows of his power were overcome by an even deeper darkness. Because at the center of his chest, there was a syringe–emptied of dark liquid–driven directly into his core.
And I knew what that meant. I could feel as it attacked and tore away at my Grandpa's system, so much worse than my mother. I–
I watched, only half-seeing, as the man who had all but raised me coughed a spittle of dark blood. My swordstaff slipped from my hands as I rushed to him, feeling as if I was in a dream, all thoughts of Mawar forgotten.
"No, Grandpa," I blubbered as I stumbled to where he lay beaten in the rubble. All across his aged skin, little cuts showed where Bilal's acid swords had reaped their due. "Grandpa, you're alright. You're going to get back up."
I knelt by the rocks, my trembling fingers clasping Grandpa's shoulders. My eyes darted to the syringe embedded in his core, to his face, then back frantically. He didn't even seem to notice, the corruption worming its way through him causing his body to tremble and his eyes to quiver.
The outside world fell away as his eyes fell on me, and they seemed to focus. His arms shuddered as they tried to grasp my own. He whispered a few words, nearly too low to be heard.
"Run, Tessia," he croaked, delirious from this attack. "Run."
"Utter fucking wretch," a caustic voice said from behind me. "We only had two of those vials. Mawar, you're going to give me your syringe now. We got the wrong target."
"You got the wrong target," Mawar's voice quietly countered. "This misstep is your fault."
Tears fell from my eyes as Grandpa's arm went limp, his body giving out. As his very body turned against him, the corruption ravaging his insides.
Bilal scoffed, something wet and pained. "It doesn't matter. He was still one of the targets. Kill the old bastard, stab the young bitch. Shouldn't be a problem if we stab him and kill her instead."
And just like that, my sorrow and fear was overwhelmed with fury. I turned slowly, my tear-stricken eyes blurring my vision.
But I could still see Bilal. Could still see the mess of wrongly-bent limbs and sweat-slicked dark hair. He was bleeding from a hundred wounds, and he looked like he was barely able to stand.
But when he saw my eyes, he laughed. "Look, Mawar. She's crying. Like you did when–"
I blurred forward, my swordstaff forgotten. Mawar appeared to be the only one thinking with any sort of sense, because she tried to intercept me. She blurred in from the side, a score of her tendrils tearing a bloody gash across my stomach as I charged unerringly toward the Retainer who had infected my Grandpa.
I didn't care. My vines surged, stained in my own blood, as they batted Mawar away. My ribs creaked as blood streamed across my chest, but I couldn't feel the pain. Bilal's eyes widened as he haphazardly tried to summon more green mana blades, but I closed the distance too fast.
I yelled in bestial rage as vines erupted around us, my Second Phase burning hot in my skin and my high-silver core aching from abuse. My vines smashed aside Bilal's green blade, shattering them into tiny motes of caustic mana.
I closed the distance, swiping my hands as I summoned blades of wind to try and tear the Retainer apart. They blurred with the humming force of a whirlwind as I ignored my wounds.
Except when they struck the disoriented Retainer's body, tendrils of familiar shadow peeled out from under his thin robes, protecting him against the blasts of cutting air. They shattered into infuriatingly small gales that did little more than spread the bastard's blood further into his robes.
Bilal, who seemed frozen in utter fear in the moment I'd reached him, quickly regained his composure as a sneer overtook his horrified expression. As I closed the distance, he conjured a blade of bright green mana, preparing to drive it through my core. "Finally doing your job as Shield, Mawar? It's about time!" he hissed.
My eyes darkened with burning fury as I saw the blade approaching. I was too close to avoid it; too driven by my anger and fury. But I would see Bilal's core torn from his chest.
I shifted to the side, allowing the caustic mana blade to drive up and through my shoulder. I felt as it emerged from the other side, my eyes wild and pained as I finally got in close.
"You crazy bitch," Bilal hissed with wide eyes as I finally neared my target. "Are you willing to die just to–"
My hand–coated in mist and wind and a smattering of vines–thrust into his chest. He tried to pull away, but my other arm cinched tight around his where he'd impaled me. My fingers dug through his spindly flesh, finally finding what they were searching for.
My fingers cinched around his core, even as the tendrils of black shadow battered and smashed at my arms. My skin broke and withered. My bones trembled and cracked. But I wouldn't allow this to stop me.
I stared into Bilal's horrified eyes, feeling blood dribble down my chin. Then I clenched my fist.
His core cracked, then shattered. I tore my hand from his chest in a spray of dark blood, the fatal wound weeping dark-stained crimson. He fell to the cobbles in a wet flop, unable to even make a sound.
I immediately felt my knees tremble as blood streamed from the wounds across my body, my reckless charge demanding its toll. I coughed, the liquid in my lungs rattling about.
I turned woozily on my feet, glaring at Mawar. I knew my wounds were bad. They might even be fatal if I didn't seek attention soon. But the other Retainer was here, too. I needed to deal with them.
Willow's power breathed softly, sadly across my mind as I forcefully kept control over my mana. The gash across my side wept a steady stream, and the wound in my shoulder ached fiercely.
There was something complicated in Mawar's eyes as she watched me slowly bleed out, but she didn't attack just yet, even as I forced myself into stance. Aya, where are you?
"I was supposed to leave you alive, Tessia Eralith," Mawar said slowly. "But if you wish to die, I cannot stop you."
I snarled, feeling my heart clench as I spotted Grandpa as he lay unconscious in the rubble. He would die too, I knew, if he didn't get attention soon. I needed him… needed him if I wanted to keep going.
Mawar conjured a torrent of dark wind around herself, prepared to finish this confrontation. Her eyes glinted with manifested amber as her power swelled, her breathing strained.
But then I felt it. A warm, burning-yet-not touch that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It thrummed across my body, but not. More like a touch on my mind? I blinked in surprise, recognizing it. It wanted me… wanted me to listen?
It was like my connection with Willow, but also something entirely separate. More ethereal and indistinct. I couldn't even tell why I thought it was a fire. Why I thought it was warm. It just was. Or as close to warm as I could think.
But what good would listening do right now? My foe stood across from me, ready to tear apart everything I'd ever known. I needed to stay focused. I needed to tear out Mawar's core, too. So that Grandpa could get help from the emitters behind her.
I blinked tears from my eyes at the insistent fire as it pressed against the confines of my skull. Nagging, like an insistent itch. More and more and more I felt it poking and prodding, demanding to be let in.
And I could almost sense its intention. Its desire. Why it–he–was being such an annoying pest.
"Fine!" I yelled aloud, feeling my ire rise. "Fine, I don't care!" I hissed. "Just give me what I need to break my enemies!"
Mawar's eyes widened in surprise as I accepted the touch of the demon whispering into my ear–and the change was instant.
My heart clenched slightly as I exhaled in surprise. Light the color of a waxing dawn flared across my wounds, making me gasp in surprise. A familiar sensation of a resonant hearth thrummed across my entire body as the gash over my shoulder closed, mending as if it were never there. The broken fingers and decayed flesh around my hands sealed over. And in a wash of orange-purple light, it was as if I'd never thrown myself into the thresher in the first place.
Even despite the crisis that still faced me, I found myself staring down at my body in quiet awe. My heartbeat was strong in my chest as it pulsed in rhythm with that strange hearthfire. Willow crooned in awe.
But the first to speak was not me. It was Mawar. "Spellsong...?" she said, backing away with a tremble in her lips. "He healed you. But he isn't here."
My emerald gaze snapped back to the Retainer, whose body was still littered with half a hundred cuts. While I'd been healed, she experienced no such succor. Her blood stained the cobbles, and she seemed to realize it.
Then she did something I never expected. She slowly raised her hands, allowing her mana to dissipate as her shadow whips disappeared. Her aura sifted away, her dark skin shifting back to its normally pale color as she abandoned her form.
I could feel Aya's mana signature as she raced from some far corner of the city–how she'd been taken there, I did not know. I gritted my teeth, feeling the exhaustion across my body even as I stared at the Retainer.
Was this some sort of trick? Some sort of trap to lure me in?
But the Retainer hadn't struck me when I'd given my mother to the healer.
"I surrender," the short-haired Retainer said softly, averting her eyes, causing mine to widen in turn. "And tell Spellsong–when you see him next–that our debt is settled."
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