The hallway they were on had a sense of finality to it, and not just because it was long, though that did play a factor. It stretched one like all the rest, but without the twists and turns he'd familiarised himself with. To add to it, there were no forks or breakaways along their path. It ran straight ahead to eternity, it seemed. When he turned around to see how far they'd gone, the glow of the room behind them had begun shifting form from an obvious doorway to a blob, to a dim star in the night.

And he was looking back often. Gellron was following behind them now, having been given no opportunity yet to get in front of them. Surprisingly, he was enjoying this change in their marching order less than he'd imagined he would.

When he wasn't keeping an eye on the Demon murderer with a sword at their backs, he was looking at the walls.

Since the hallway was long and uninterrupted, it meant the carvings across it were equally so. The stone was different, grainier and of what he decided was a lower quality. What that meant was beyond him, but it did let him come to at least one conclusion. This hallway was the youngest part of the ruins they'd come across.

"Does that mean we're near the end of it?"

'It means we're near the end of something. Whether that means an exit for us is beyond me. We haven't gone any further up."

"Which makes an exit unlikely, unless we pop out in another cave or a crevice in the ground."

"Let's not make any conclusions until we have all the facts. And the fact of the matter is that, unless we've been ensorceled, this hallway isn't ending anytime soon."

Either the end had yet to come into sight, or it was unlit and blended in with the shadows, because he couldn't see anything. Just an endless hallway, stretching on into nothing. Thankfully, no more traps had been activated, and as far as he knew, there were none here.

Now that I think about it, I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.

No traps were obviously a positive outcome, but it also meant there was nothing to distract him from the never-ending nature of their situation. That, and the lack of traps, made that familiar, rancid feeling of wrong at the edge of his senses all the more concerning. It wasn't a trap laid by the… Zhao Torag. And he had a feeling he knew what it was now, or at least, who it was.

Are you going to show yourself again?

No response, but a faint feeling came to him. Laughter. It made his skin crawl just to think of it. A monster, a being of Absolute Darkness like that, should not exist, could not exist. The Dark God had gone too far, making something like that.

Not a God. "But I'm somewhat close." It was chilling that something could have that sort of power, to break through and show him memories he hadn't known existed, however brief they were.

Prince Lathiwein. Captain Aleckus. He swore, the moment he was out of here, he would find a library and look up those names. They were the only link he had between his past and now. And more than that?

I want to know what they were like. Friends? Brothers-in-arms? Allies? I want to know.

But it hadn't come from the Light. That memory had been brought to him in defiance of it, in a manner that went against everything he stood for, everything it stood for. Guilt warred with relief, which spawned more guilt. He refocused his attention on the walls again to distract himself.

He saw the Firstborn, as he had dubbed them, with their Human bodies and snake heads, followed by the Secondborn, who were the opposite in that sense. He saw similar depictions of the 'events' that he had witnessed in the hall of statues. The Secondborn being born from eggs, then reproducing, graphically, to form the Thirdborn, who were so numerous and varied in their appearances that it was easier to tell who they weren't than who they were.

Watching over them, trailing across the bottom or top sides of the wall or displayed in great, fanciful diagrams were their overlords, the giant snakes that were there at the beginning, and seemingly at the end. The arbiters and architects of their cities, of their magic, and presumably their nation or nations.

"They look like Hydras."

"Pardon?" He broke his concentration to glance towards her.

"Those snakes, the big ones, I mean, they look like Hydras. Or rather, what I expected Hydras to look like when you cut them up into individual pieces."

"I…"

She frowned and looked a him. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Not at all. Could you please elaborate?"

"Hydras are giant, multi-headed monsters that look like snakes, but I always assumed they were reptilian or even draconic."

"You have seen them before?"

She shuddered, "Are you insane? Absolutely not. They're not exactly common, adventurers and treasure hunters who are unlucky run into them inhabiting ancient ruins hundreds or even thousands of years old. I'd call them a myth if the stories weren't corroborated and the descriptions written so viscerally… real." She noticed the pointed look he was giving her and waved a hand. "There's no chance one is wandering around here. We would have definitely noticed or at least heard it already, and besides, there's nothing living down here. No food to be eaten."

"Right. If you're sure… what makes these snakes remind you of them? Just because of their size?"

"Well, it's not just that. Imagine those snakes," she pointed, "but if you took eight or nine of them and fused them into one giant ball. Like a rat king, but magical, I guess. There's a certain resemblance."

"Oh, well, you should have started with that. I know what a rat king is." He pictured those disgusting, rather sad and pitiful 'beings,' rats fused together by their tails, even forming giant balls sometimes. He shivered.

"Have I ever mentioned how weird the stuff you do know is? The life cycles and habitations of snakes, what a rat king is- it's hardly consistent."

"I haven't exactly been picking and choosing, okay? Perhaps I was as avid a reader as you. That would explain things. Actually-" He paused, possessed by a thought. "Actually, you have read a lot, right?"

She glanced back, then forward again, before responding. "Yes, you just mentioned that. Why? Do you want to know something? I'm not an ever-flowing pool of general knowledge, you know?"

"It's… history. Do you know a Prince Lathiwein? Or a Captain Aleckus?"

Her brows furrowed, and she ran a hand over her chin. "Aleckus? I've never heard that name before, that I can remember. Prince Lathiwein… sounds Florainian. Which makes him royalty, since there's been no other Royal House in Floraine. Do you have anything else for me to work with?"

"He fought the Kurathil more than once. And he bore the standard of the Light."

She snorted.

"What, is that funny?"

"No, no, it's just," she waved her hand, "You have absolutely no idea how little that narrows it down. Florainians have been tussling with the Kurathil for hundreds of years, for more than an Age. And I don't think I need to tell you where the Church of the Light holds the most prominence."

"Right."

"Why do you ask? Those names seemed quite specific."

He didn't answer immediately, but that in and of itself was an answer for her. Her eyes widened somewhat. "You remembered something. Their names? Or something more… a memory?"

He sighed and inclined his head. "A battle in the forests of the Kurathil, a standard of the Light and Floraine, a last stand by brave soldiers. And me, sent to aid them."

It felt so real… to feel my wings again, to feel that power flow through me.

"Besides your own perspective, none of that is specific enough for me to have read about and remembered it, let alone find a concrete date. If I had a library and days to spend researching…"

"We'll have our hands full when we get out of here, then."

A small smile played at her lips. "Indeed. Though you'll be less than useful if they're written in Athniuthian. Speaking of which." She pointed, and he followed her gaze to the left side of the wall. "That shouldn't be here."

It was Athniuthian, carved into the wall alongside the script of the Zhao Torag. Just like with the dais in the trial room and the hall of statues, the presence of the Carathiliarian language threw him for a loop. Their march slowed as they both edged closer to it.

"It's shown up more than once; it can't be a coincidence. Somewhere along the line, their cultures met or at least interacted enough that they would record messages in their language. What does it say?"

"Give me a second, this is hardly an undamaged source and my Athniuthian is basic at best. Let's see here… so come and go, so came and went. When the ground shook and the skies bled, so fell the great cities and the dark was banished forevermore- the rest is damaged."

They kept moving, and eventually she came across another line of text.

"The Dragonfellers came before, in a greater wave than the seas of old could muster. With skin as grey as stone and a tongue just as placid and immutable. They're talking about the Carathiliar."

"I got that part. It must have been their migration here, whenever that was." While she'd been talking, he was observing the illustrations above, which told much the same story, if lacking context. The Thirdborn meeting the smaller, Human figures. All the while, the giant snakes watched overhead.

"The Naga were enamoured. They took to these Dragonfellers like bugs to a fallen- I don't know what that is, sorry, but it probably isn't something good. No doubt who's writing this then?"

"Their snake rulers."

"They seem quite intelligent," she noted.

"Think about what it takes to make a place like this, to harness magic in a way we have never seen or heard of before. Far above that of animals, I believe you'd be hard pressed to find any Humans smarter than them… they were each and every one of them geniuses."

"And yet they still died. And that's- what is this supposed to be?"

She pointed out a graphic display of the Carathiliar and Naga… being enamoured with each other. It was quite explicit. He tried to prevent the blush that was no doubt spreading across his cheeks.

"Do you remember when I told you that Humans don't reproduce the same way Demons do. This is an example of that."

"Oh." She raised an eyebrow. "Looks awfully complex. I think we have a better system going on, huh?"

"I would rather we didn't dwell on any of the specifics. Could we keep moving?"

She sighed, "Fine. Let's see here… well, this part is mostly dust already, but -newborns. A mongrel breed between the Naga and Dragonfellers. When we first discovered them, they were discarded, but that soon became an untenable strategy."

"They discarded them? Does that mean left out on the road for adoption, or left in the wilderness to die?"

"Or shoved down a very deep hole in the ground," she added.

There was less and less Athniuthian as they went on, but also, he began to notice less writing overall. The images began to grow larger, then stretched down the hallway. The Nagas, marching forward in a procession, under the watchful eyes of the snakes. On and on they went.

Eventually, though, there was a change, and at first, he didn't even see it. Gaps began appearing in the line of Nagas. At first, he chalked it up to damage to the walls, but then undamaged sections showed it as well. The number of Nagas present lessened, and eventually began being replaced by more Human figures, if that was even possible. So Humanlike that he had to squint to see any snake-like features on them, and even then, they were few and far between.

"They were being bred out."

"Is that even possible?"

He tilted his head. "If their population was in decline, maybe? Perhaps the inheritable traits that made them who they are were being outdone by the Carathiliarian presence. I've never heard of it happening before, and on such a wide scale. When other Human races intermingle, like Florainian and a Moren, do you know what happens?"

She shrugged, "Not really, but since it's never come up anywhere, I assume it isn't that big of a deal."

"Clearly not, but this paints a much different picture."

As they kept moving, the number of Nagas grew less and less, until eventually they were completely replaced by these more Humanlike beings.

Then they too began to disappear.

He felt a presence behind him, close behind him.

"What do you think you two are doing?'

He spun around as Gellron looked between them. Their slower pace meant he'd finally caught up with them, and with only a few words and pointed stares, he reminded Danadrian why moving forward quickly was still in their best interest.

He sent both chills and tremors through his body. The latter being a result of the effort needed to keep his sword sheathed and not held out to create more distance between them. Or to run him down, either one.

Alleria had said that, should he stand his ground against them once they were free of this place, she would kill him. Danadrian doubted she could, though.

Ignoring the blatant skill difference between them, I don't think that her heart is entirely in it. She may still see some of her brother behind the monster.

He had no such qualms. Maybe it was a boon, then, that he had never known him when he was younger, when he was different, because that may throw the same doubt into his mind. But all he saw was the surrendered Talradian falling to the ground. All he saw was the pure rage and fury in his eyes. All he saw was the faith and madness of someone worshipping the dead.

"We're inspecting the walls. They are finally written in a language one of us can understand."

Gellron turned to Alleria, whose hand was casually resting on the edge of her sheathed hilt. "You learned their tongue?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"I assumed you would cheat, then lie about it. Both are in your nature."

"You know, you're really starting to sound like a parakeet, always repeating yourself. Got anything else?"

"Is this a joke to you?" He took another step forward, but Danadrian cut him off before he could get any closer. "Do you think, after everything you've done, that you are allowed to make jokes? Allowed to be so frivolous and carefree?" He marched around them, giving Danadrian a wide berth. He spun around and spat at her, "You were never strong enough nor had the mental fortitude to handle the Path. Father's one mistake was trying to push you past that."

He turned away and continued to stalk his way ahead. Danadrian tore his eyes away from him and back to Alleria. Her one hand was starting to shake. When she saw him looking, she opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. He shook his head.

"You don't need to say anything if you don't want to."

She nodded. Then she opened her mouth again, "He wanted us both to follow the Path. I think he wanted it to be one of his life's greatest achievements, to head a family dedicated to their mission, to have us all swear the oaths and take up arms against Humanity."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You are who you are, not who your parents want you to be."

"How would you even know?" she asked with a soft laugh, "You said it yourself, Angelica don't really have families."

"Maybe some things are universal. Or maybe the vices of mortality are starting to rub off on me. Come on, let's go."

Their own procession continued whilst that of the Nagas descendants, the barely snake-like or even snake-adjacent Humans, continued to decline. That was when it clicked. It wasn't a procession, it was a funeral march.

By the end, they had all vanished, and nought was left but the giant snakes watching over them, masters of a defunct race.

So that was how they ended. Not in great battle or glorious death, but through the slow and insidious onslaught of time. They watched their people being wiped out not by magic or blade, but by blood and breeding.

For a race like this, for a people that immortalised their greatest moments in stone, it was nothing short of a tragedy. He could feel that hurt rushing through him.

When the tunnel that seemed endless finally reached its conclusion, it was with a giant set of doors, forged of metal. There, the giant snakes on the walls vanished as well, and they were left eerily empty.

Empty, save for one last line of scribble in the stone, this time written on the floor before the door. Alleria leaned down.

"They ended. We ended. The Last Great Tesslaithie ended. For whoever comes after, for whoever finds this, know that we lived. We thrived. And we died, as all eventually do. Galumtir calls us. Remember."

As her words ended, Gellron, standing ahead of them, finally managed to push open the doors. They scraped against the floor, and no light emerged from beyond them. He was only able to push it just wide enough for them to slip through. Danadrian stepped through, Alleria following closely behind him.

Their footsteps echoed throughout the vast room they entered. Hall was the closest description he could find, but it truly dwarfed all the others they had found so far. Even when he raised the slime-torch above his head, he couldn't see the edges of it. It made him feel tiny, minuscule even. Like an ant.

Like a snake.

"Look." Alleria pointed. He followed her hand and saw sets of holes in the wall, just like the last room. Only this time, they continued to appear, stretching out of his vision entirely. "Do you think this is where they all lead to, eventually?"

"I wouldn't doubt it." He continued to walk forward, keeping just as close an eye on Gellron, shifting in the darkness ahead, as he did on their surroundings. "If everything in this place wasn't most certainly dead, I wouldn't even dare to go this far. If only I had some proper light." Or Light.

But distancing himself from his blade to use magic was not a risk he was willing to take. Their journey through this dungeon was ending, one way or another, and he knew exactly how their third companion would feel about his continued presence once they were free of it.

"Chalador, God of Fire, Bravery, and Might. Give me strength along with the Light. Banish all fear and invoke your brightest embers within me. So bless it be."

He felt a tingle on his fingertips.

Hm?

The tingle grew a little stronger, then, on a whim, he pulled on his mana, though he knew it was pointless.

The tiniest flicker of Light appeared in his palm. Tiny, but bright. Bright and present. His breath caught in the back of his throat as Alleria stepped forward and stared at it, her eyes as wide as his.

"That… shouldn't have worked."

"No, it should not have." He flicked his fingers, and the tiny mote of Light flew into the air, piercing through the darkness like the morning Sun. It shouldn't have been possible, and yet who could deny their own eyes?

"What changed? It isn't damaged in any way." She reached over his back as if to draw it and check, but the moment she pulled it a smidge out of its scabbard, he spun away.

"Stop. Wait." He'd felt it. The barest flicker of his mana, a disturbance running through it. "Draw it anymore and it'll vanish. It's the scabbard."

"The scabbard?" She frowned and ran her hands over it. It was, as far as they could ascertain, just some scale-like substance. It was sturdy and fit his sword like a glove, so he hadn't put any more thought into it, especially given what had happened after, but now he was thinking about it harder.

Scale-like, or just scales? And if it's made of scales, then who else's could it come from…

"How much magic are you able to use?"

"Barely more than this." The mote of Light spun around them, increasing in speed, then decreasing, but with a slight delay. "I've had more control before."

"Then it doesn't completely nullify it like the rust did, but minimises it to an extent. Useful."

He sent the Light flying out into the darkness, banishing it away. He wondered how long it would go before it hit the walls. That was far away. He pulled it back and sent it to the other side. Just as far.

"This place is ridiculous," Alleria muttered. He just nodded.

When he drew it back towards him, something caught his eye. He wasn't sure if it was a flicker reacting to the Light or it being reflected off a surface, but there was something out there that wasn't just stone and tree roots.

He directed the Light back to where he thought he'd seen it, then froze. They stepped forward towards it, as the Light grew brighter and brighter still, before the area around them was entirely illuminated. It took a lot out of him to do it, but he deemed it necessary.

"Oh, that's…"

He nodded, "Does it match the descriptions?"

"They weren't far off."

They stood before a giant skeleton, at least ten times their height. Tall enough to make any building he'd seen a stepping stone; even the towered Palace in Fordain was dwarfed. It stretched out in every direction, multiple spines and rib cages lay on the ground and wrapped around the stone pillars. The closest head to them was lying on the ground, its sockets big enough that he might've been able to jump through them. There were no legs that he could see, nor arms or other appendages. Anywhere else, he would have chalked that up to damage. But here… he knew what this was.

"The Last Great Tesslaithie."

"A Hydra."

They looked at each other, then back at the skeleton.

"You don't think…"

"Somehow, I do not doubt it. They were masters of blood magic, among other things. I believe that if a scholar were willing to commit time and effort towards the endeavour, they would find no Hydras existing before the Zhao Torag fell."

He hadn't stopped walking and now found himself only a few steps away from the skeleton. He stared into the empty sockets of the Hydra. Then in silence, he bowed his head low and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Alleria was standing next to him again, her eyes closed.

"Now this is a surprise."

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at him with a slightly perturbed expression. "I could say the same. You of all people, showing respect to 'masters of blood magic' and worshippers of the Void and Abyss."

"As well as the Light," he corrected her. "Thousands of years ago. I see no point in bemoaning them for their beliefs when I gaze upon their final skeletons. Rather, I shall offer my respects, as my way of honouring them. And thanking them, for I would be dead long ago without their aid." He jerked his head to his back. "Would you not agree?"

"You know, maybe you're right. I think the vices of morality are starting to rub off on you. The Angelica I met in Fordain would not have been so open-minded."

He… still wasn't sure how he felt about that. While it was undeniable that his conscious felt better that he felt better, it did nothing to resolve that nagging feeling that constantly followed him. That doubt and worry that he might be making the same mistakes that had landed him here in the first place, over and over again.

How do I avoid them, without knowing what they are?

Yet it was a circular trap he found himself in. With his memories restored, he might have a chance. But without Mayare's blessing, without proving himself worthy of them, there was no chance.

No chance except…

No. That temptation is a step too far. No deal is worth signing myself to it. The Light would forsake me forever, I would forsake myself forever.

The dull sensation of something watching him from the shadows was growing the longer he remained stationary. Wherever that thing was, it was getting closer by the minute. They were running out of time.

"Where's Gellron?"

Her face dropped at the mention of his name, but she pointed. "Looking around, I guess. Feelings notwithstanding, I'll be ecstatic if he actually finds us an exit."

With the darkness of the room everywhere but their location, he could actually see Gellron stalking around; his red horns and eyes gave him away. Now that he thought about it, the 'Demons hiding in the dark ready to kill you' message the Talradians spread couldn't be farther from the truth; there was no way they could be good at stealth with so many bright giveaways.

He wasn't really keen on getting closer, but he swallowed those feelings and approached the Demon. He reacted to the Light by immediately stepping away the moment he was within range, and after seeing its source, that hesitation was replaced with disgust.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Have you found anything?"

"Pillars. Walls. Holes. Nothing in the way of an exit, nor even a hint of daylight. The air is stale."

He was true on every account, but the last one was the most concerning. If there wasn't any fresh air down here, what were the chances that they could find a way out?

We kept going deeper and deeper… but there isn't an exit here, then what is there? There's no chance that the last resting place of a Hydra needed to be this big.

And it was unlikely that was the room's original purpose, so what was?

"No spells?"

"None, and you would have known if I'd found any. You would be better at finding them than I, anyway. Why don't you use your magic?"

He raised his hand, and the speck of Light returned to it. "I can barely do this much with my sword around me."

"Then distance yourself from it."

"Respectfully, I refuse. I'm not willing to part with it, given my present company."

"No trust for Demons, a classic trait of you Lightbringers."

"No trust for you," he corrected.

They were locked in a staring contest, Gellron's expression the same grim and upset one he always wore. Danadrian was beginning to think he hid more behind it than he let on.

"What did she do to get you on her side, Lightbringer?"

He glanced around and saw that Alleria wasn't beside him anymore. At some point during his approach to Gellron, she must have slipped away.

And I don't fault her for it.

He returned his gaze to Gellron, who was staring at him with more intent than usual, while not lacking his intensity.

"Why do you assume that there was some way or thing she did to get me 'on her side'? What if it was by my choice?"

"Let's not play games, Lightbringer. We both know that you and your faithful are not kind to those who oppose your Goddess. So either Alleria did something to get you on her side, or there's more going on here than just a foreign member of the Church that just happens to be wandering around the Carathiliarian Kingdom."

"How much do you know about the Church of the Light?"

"Answer the question."

"I am."

"With another question."

"Indulge me, please."

He wasn't sure how far he was willing to push the patience of such a volatile individual, but eventually he jerked his head down in a nod.

"Fine. I know about your Church. Those who follow the Path make a habit of researching potential threats and powerful foes that may stand in our way. You are high on the list, despite your reservations towards the Carathiliar and anyone who doesn't fit your description of 'good'."

"Who else is there?"

"All of Humanity is our enemy, fool. The Kingdom of Carathiliar, the Kingdom of Moren, the Kingdom of Floraine, the Wizard Realm of Talfandil, the [Kelfrin Dragonkin] people to the north-east, the Empire, do you want me to write this down for you? It would be easier to name those who aren't on the list."

It was a rather daunting list, he admitted, even if he knew only half of the names he'd given.

"Now, are you going to answer my question?" The edge in his voice told him that answering with another inquiry would be a poor choice.

"We met through what I can only consider to be the hand of fate interceding. Our paths were set in the same direction, so we travelled together with another. There was no coercion or reason other than that. Are you sated?"

He wasn't. "And your own personal beliefs regarding Demons? There are few amongst your kind who look on us with sympathy, let alone kindness."

His brow furrowed. "I looked beyond the fear that consumes others and saw a person, not a monster."

"So then, you put aside your faith for her. What would Mayare think of you, I wonder?"

His hand snapped up to the hilt of his sword. The Demon's hand had already revealed the edge of his own.

"Watch your next words, Gellron."

"And you should watch yours, Danadrian Lightbringer." His eyes were cold, but the gaze that Danadrian felt running across his skin was hot. "Setting aside your beliefs for anything is not just a sign of weakness; it's a sign of heresy. I've seen strong men buckle beneath the weight of what true faith demands. You are like them."

"You have no idea what I am like," he said through gritted teeth. "Do not presume to judge my faith."

"Oh, but I am. Are you telling me that your faith has never wavered? That you've never looked at Demons and wondered, 'Is this right?'"

He couldn't answer that. Instead, he forced out, "And yours? When you kill by the dozen with no mercy, slaughter surrendered foes and turn your back on your own family, then your blade, have your beliefs never wavered?"

"Not once," he responded, his voice colder than ice.

"And your mother? What did she believe? How did your faith respond to her?"

The Light flickered out. Danadrian drew his blade and backed a step as Gellron drew his sabre in a flash. His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"Do not speak of what you do not know. Do not speak of her to me. My mother was blinded by your religion, by your precious Light. It consumed her the same way it consumes all of you. Until the end."

Their swords were hovering inches away from each other. One more word, a slight movement, whatever happened next, and it would be a fight. And it would end with one of them dead.

So it finally comes to this. On one hand, Alleria's presence would be a boon. On the other hand, well…

Asking her to kill her own blood would be a step too far, no matter what she said. He couldn't ask her to be branded a kinslayer, on top of whatever other crimes were attached to her name.

But could he win by himself? Staring at the cold, amber-eyed Demon of House Wrathius, only a blade's length away, made the world seem like it was shaking. Was that fear?

No, wait… the world was really shaking.

Both of their heads snapped away as the earth beneath them continued to shift. A flash of orange and red illuminated the room. He felt mana rushing around him. Shouting reached his ears. His eyes widened.

"Demon Hunters."

"Keleiva."

Alleria.

His feet were moving, and his sword raised before he'd even fully registered what was happening. The sounds grew louder and louder until eventually he spun around a pillar.

Something large and solid hit him square in the chest and sent him stumbling. A familiar blade clattered to the ground beside him.

The aforementioned large object growled, "One minute. You left me on my own for one minute, and it all went belly up."

Smoke was trailing off Alleria's body as she coughed and pulled herself to her feet. She looked around and picked up the sword, just as another ball of fire exploded above them.

"In my defence… no, I don't really have any to give? Are you okay?"

"I almost got blasted to pieces, then thrown about a dozen metres? Does it sound like I'm okay?"

He could hear more blades being drawn and the shouting getting louder. The only light they had was the embers of magical fire littered across the stone floor, and the faintest dots of torchlight growing brighter by the second. He raised his sword and stepped in beside her.

"Cover my back."

She nodded and pressed herself against him. It wasn't long before the first Demon Hunters came out of the darkness. He swept aside the first blade, then blocked the other. The first hunter backed away, but the other came in again, swiping wide at his chest. He knocked their sword up and hesitated for just a second before slashing down. He cut through the cloth, and the figure staggered back before falling.

The fireballs stopped falling. He heard the telltale sign of crossbows being loaded and threw up his hand, pushing Alleria away. Four metal bolts swirled out of the shadows. Two hit the ground; one grazed his shoulder, leaving a gash; the last hit Alleria's left leg.

She staggered and cursed under her breath as she pulled at it without a second thought. Her blood dripped for only a second.

He could hear their voices clearer now; shouts telling them they were surrounded, calls for the mages to continue their bombardment.

One would assume they'd give up on that by now.

Evidentially, his thoughts were not as private as he'd hoped, because the shaking ground intensified to the point where even standing still was a challenge. This wouldn't have been an issue if it weren't for every Demon Hunter starting to appear, either raising crossbows or approaching with drawn blades and spears. They were arrayed in a semi-circle around them, with a familiar figure just a few steps away.

"You know, has anyone ever told you that you're obsessive? I'm not sure if I should be flattered, Keleiva, or just concerned. What do you think?"

Keleiva's glare didn't falter for a second as she addressed Alleria, "Surrender now, Demon, and I will promise you a swift and painful death."

"Aren't you meant to say swift and painless?"

"That would be a lie."

Danadrian reached a hand into his backpack.

"Well, I'm honoured, truly, but I feel like we've done this song and dance before."

"There are no more hallways left for you to run away through, Demon. No holes for you to hide in. No alleyways for you to skulk in. I will have your head adorning my camp by nightfall, for all the pain and misfortune you and your kind have put us through."

"I wish you the best of luck in taking it. Danadrian?"

He ran his eyes over the assembled Talradian and Carathiliarian Demon Hunters in silence. They were waiting for their orders to approach. Finally, his gaze rested not on their leader but on the mages standing at the back, guarded by a few of their soldiers.

"There."

One of the guards stumbled, clutching at his throat, before collapsing. A mage fell a second later. Gellron emerged from the shadows, sabre prepared to carve a bloodless path through everyone in front of him; his face now filled with unconcealed rage.

In that second of distraction as their enemies' eyes swung back, he flung a stone he'd been holding onto out his hand. A small thing, barely noticeable in the air, until faint light flickered within as it passed out of his range.

A gamble, but then again, he didn't believe in luck that much. Just fate.

It hit the ground, and a wall of stone erupted from the earth, sending everyone nearby stumbling and even flying in some cases. The nearest hunter to him had done a double-take already, and as such, didn't notice how close he'd got before he slammed the side of his sword into their helmet. They crumpled instantly.

What came next was a whirlwind. His blade swung around him in quick arcs. He blocked blades that would've otherwise gutted him, struck down one Talradian, then another, as, of all things, he advanced forward.

We're surrounded anyway, and they'll wear me out before they run out of numbers.

When he next got a chance to breathe, it felt like hours had passed, but by his calculations, it had only been a minute or two. He wasn't even sure how he was being given the chance to breathe, but when he turned slightly, he saw why.

. . .

Alleria was painfully aware that what she was doing was suboptimal. Suboptimal might even be too kind; it would be accurate to say that what she was doing was just plain stupid.

The moment the fighting had started, and she'd recovered from being jumped in the dark, her survival of which she put down to just being plain lucky, she'd Blinked and copied Keleiva immediately. This being the second or third time she'd done so, the rush of her skills and instincts came to her easily.

What didn't come easily was stopping those natural instincts from actually killing every Demon Hunter the blade met with a single cut. One sharp movement and it would be over for them, and oh, how easy that would be. If only she had the nerve to do it.

Can't be distracted. Have to focus.

Obviously, the numbers were against them, and though the Gellron had preoccupied the mages, they were still a threat if any of their spells got too close, or she strayed too far from Danadrian. Similarly, if one of them were cut off, it would be trouble.

What they did have on their side, though, was fear. Fear of the two Demons armed with Soul Steel blades, fear of the group that had faced them multiple times and escaped, fear of the Angelica, whose presence defied their magic. Fear was the only reason they were still alive. Even when she pulled the blade back from a killing blow, they fell away or ducked as if it were still coming. Just the idea of what might happen to them, and what was happening to those behind them, gave her an opening to exploit.

If she had the time, she'd count them, and count how many were falling, but frankly, they felt like an endless horde. How Keleiva had got so many to follow her, presumably without the General's blessing, was beyond her.

She knocked the head in of a hunter whose hands had been raised to cast a spell, and her eyes met Keleiva's. Princess of Talradius.

Her very presence made her sick. Mimicking her made her sick, and her only consolation was the cold rationality of it. Take the best warrior on their side. Use her against them. Let her watch as her own skills struck her people down.

The Talradian's face was still stuck in that endless mask of fury. Her eyes, though they reflected nought but darkness, were filled with an insatiable thirst. A thirst for blood and death, for one person in particular.

"Why me? I mean, I understand why my kind, but why me in particular?"

She wasn't even sure if she could hear her until she stepped forward.

"If that one had been there instead, it would've been the same anyway. Don't flatter yourself, Demon. You aren't special, you're just another tally in an endless line of monsters."

"And here I thought we were finally getting somewhere. For someone who hates us, you sure are obsessive."

She stepped forward into a wide swing. Alleria did the same. They attacked as mirror images of each other. Their blades met in an alternate version of tug of war, trying to push each other back. She drew one hand back and smacked her across the face before she had time to process it. Then thrust her blade forward with one hand as Keleiva did the same. The tip of their blades met, and both trajectories went astray. Hers too high, the Talradian's too low, though a thin cut opened on the bottom of her arm.

Damn.

Around her, the clashes continued as Gellron spun, meeting blades and dashing into and out of vision. Danadrian, on the other hand, drew most of the attention as his longsword swung to hit many at once, even if he didn't hit as many with enough force. A hunter tried to get in behind her, but she dodged the attack and knocked them back, whereupon the back of their head was likely crushed by the pommel strike the Angelica hit him with. He really was partial to those, huh?

She withdrew a step, still keeping a hold of who she was. She was a swordsman, she was a Demon Hunter, she was trained from gods only knew how young to kill. It was her purpose. It was her strength.

It… wasn't working.

It never had. Time felt like it was slowing down in that same way Danadrian had described to her. Her perception grew sharper, while at the same time all other distractions melted away. Just her and her foe, face to face. One last time.

A Talradian who lived to kill her kind. A Demon Hunter who knew how each one of them worked, their strengths, their weaknesses, everything. The glutton who could only satiate herself with the blue blood that ran through their veins. The princess of a dead kingdom and a dying people.

Alleria the swordswoman gazed across at her foe.

Alleria the exiled demon, gazed across at her foe.

She breathed in, then drew out a single, long breath.

When their swords met, she saw their movements before they happened. She knew where Keleiva would arc her blade, and her own body's desire to do the same.

She resisted. She backed away from the swipe and blocked the attack. Then next came, and again she stepped away. When the third swipe for her sword hand came, she jumped to the side and avoided it entirely. The princess's face was contorting with even more anger, if that was possible. She growled and said something, but whatever it was flew right past Alleria's ears.

She was concentrating.

Match her movements. Understand her movements. But then-

She gripped her sword with both hands and struck in a downward strike. It threw the princess off guard as she blocked it. Without skipping a beat, she twisted the angle of the blade and thrust forward. It cut into the leather armour covering her, and she flew herself back. Her eyes were wider now.

The noise of the room began returning, but Alleria didn't pause to listen. She stepped forward and spun her blade back around into a slash. That was one of the princess's. Then she pulled it back with force and twisted herself around with it, before hitting the other side. That was one of hers.

Her movements grew faster and faster as Keleiva backed away more and more, her eyes wide now. Demon Hunters fell around, or finally broke and fled, as their leader was forced back. No doubt they'd tried to get at Alleria from behind, but Danadrian was still there, covering her back. Just as promised.

When Keleiva's mouth finally worked again, it was a croak. "What is this. Elevar- those aren't mine."

"They are. Just a little though."

Something clicked. And in that moment, even as the weight of the blade grew lighter and the grip more comfortable in her palms, her thoughts were only on one thing.

"If only they had both taken the time to train me together."

Her final strike shattered the hilt of her sword, sending shards flying and the metal dropping to the ground. She kicked Keleiva and sent her straight into a column. She crumpled to the ground, eyes unfocused. Her gloves were ripped across her palms, and through them, Alleria could see spots of blood. Not from any wound she'd inflicted, but from how hard she'd been gripping her weapon.

The tip of her blade was at her throat. There was no one else. Danadrian stepped in beside her. Either he'd been hit more than she'd noticed, or some of his hastily patched-up wounds had been reopened. Still, he was in one piece despite it.

"What was that?"

"I lesson. I think I should've learned it a long time ago." She looked back at the princess. "Surrendering now?"

All she got was a humourless laugh, "I would rather die."

She raised the blade a little higher. "That can still be arranged."

She expected Danadrian to protest. Instead, it was part of her that hesitated, in the same way she had hesitated to cut down the other Demon Hunters.

The weakest part of us.

"Why do you hesitate?"

Her heart skipped as Gellron stepped in. His arms were stained as red as his horns, and his eyes burned with their fire still.

"She deserves it, even more than any of them do. Not just a Talradian, no, no, no… the Last Princess of Talradius. Last daughter of the line of the royal line of Ulvargen. Her father, may his agony last a thousand years more, was the start of all this. Let his line finally snuff out with her."

His eyes… she tried to avoid his eyes. They were sharper than any blade.

"One cut is all it takes. Why do you hesitate with her? Why do you hesitate with any of them? Lustravias is dead because of them; let them share his damnation."

Then, finally, she heard his voice.

"Do what you think is right, Alleria. Your judgement… I trust you."

She looked into the eyes of the princess. Huh, when had she begun thinking of her as that? She still held on to that part of her. The swordswoman and princess; the Talradian and Demon Hunter. She understood.

She pulled the blade away.

For a moment, there was silence. The first real silence in… however long it had been. Then, Keleiva breathed out hard. She… sighed.

"It isn't fair, you know. Both of you." She snapped up to look between the two Demons. "You cut through Humans like we're wet paper. You snap your fingers, and the ground is suddenly a field of shards, or just look at us, and suddenly you're our equals. I train my entire life, only to meet a Demon that can do everything I do. Maybe there's a reason your God put you in a little pocket as far away from everyone else as possible. Blood and Chaos-"

Gellron cut her throat.

She watched her eyes widen, then what light was left vanished from them. Her body fell over.

"You were always too weak to take his training to heart. Too much like mother."

Alleria's mind screamed. Her horns began flaring as she felt part of herself, part of her, vanish. The princess, the- it was gone. All she could feel was the agony of loss. Like an empty hole had been ruptured in her mind.

A blue wisp fluttered out from her body.

. . .

Danadrian swung around and slammed his blade against Gellron's. Incandescent light broke free of the sabre, blasting away from him and into the Demon. He looked unaffected, but even when he broke away and Danadrian struck it again, the colour remained. It billowed forth like an oncoming wave, making even him flinch away. It was so… bright.

It felt like mana. It looked like mana, and yet again, his eyes caught shapes in it. Faces.

That was when his heart stopped. He recognised the hollowed-out eyes. No longer filled, now there was nothing inside them. He dared a glance back. At her body.

"Her Soul…"

"So, you get it now, Danadrian Lightbringer?" He broke away and dashed to the side. He just moved his hands fast enough to stop the next strike that almost cut his arm. "How else could we be sure that they suffer for their crimes? How else could we be sure that Galumtir would not favour them?"

He flicked his fingers. Danadrian only had a second for the warning bells in his head to go off before the ground erupted with a blaze of destruction. The ancient stone broke apart, becoming jagged spikes that cut his legs, even as he threw himself away. A second later, he was forced to move again as the air itself began to detonate.

He raised his sword in time to block another cut aimed for his head. One knee on the ground, then struck back. His arms screamed at him, his wounds broke open, but he kept swinging. He pulled himself off the ground, heedless of the damage.

Alleria-

He didn't have time to see where she was or what she was doing. He didn't have time to see if she was prepared to help him, or if she was still wavering. He didn't have time to see if she meant what she'd said. Every part of his mind and body was focused on the Demon in front of him.

"Your pity for the Talradians has blinded you as much as your precious Light."

Danadrian was on the defensive again. This was different to any other duel he'd been in. Now he couldn't afford to get hurt, not once. A single slice, a single reaction that was too slow, and it would be over. He needed to move.

He forced his feet to step back, to move him as their oncoming flurry continued. Even then, he met each strike with a flurry of his own. He caught the blade and twisted to get an edge.

With each blow, sparks of mana burst from the steel of the blade. Mana and Souls, countless Souls, with faces screaming, filled with agony. Briefly released before being sucked back in again.

Their blows were like a whirlwind against each other. Only when he finally got through his defences and scored a blow across Gellron's arm did it relent, for a moment.

One cut. After all of that, one wound.

"How does one kill a God? They used our own weapons against us."

He thrust forward, and Danadrian flexibly made to block it. The thrust fell short, and instead, he slammed it down against his blade. The force sent reverberations throughout his sword. It shook from his grip and clattered to the ground. He reached to grab it but was forced back as Gellron's attacks continued.

He ducked a slash that almost took his ear, then threw himself back as another almost cut through his chest. His clothing made finding flesh to draw blood from easy. It was no small wonder now why the Demon Hunters covered themselves head to toe. Well, like it had saved them.

Gellron flicked his fingers, and the column he was backing up towards shuddered, then exploded. Rock and dirt fell around him as the roof shook. He was advancing quicker now, looking for the final killing blow. He forced him back another step; he'd made sure to keep pushing him until his sword was too far away for him to even consider picking it up again.

Just far enough, in fact.

A heat burned in his chest. He flung his hand out and sent a fireball flying, barely larger than his palm. Gellron cut it out of the air, but it had been fizzling out before it'd even reached him.

The Light came to him like air into his lungs. The next blow from the Soul Steel blade met a shimmering sword of pure Light. The moment they met, he felt the mana being sucked away, so he broke away from the exchange and charged another one. A golden shortsword clashed against steel. In his free hand, the Light coalesced into a spear, which he thrust forward with, cutting a searing blow into the Demon's shoulder.

Each blow sapped away at his mana, but he kept throwing out more Light, meeting the onslaught of attacks. His opponent's face was a snarl, eyes burning with rage. When Gellron put all his strength behind a downward strike, he blocked it with the fattest blade he could imagine.

The Light began to break apart. With a grunt, he threw both their weapons aside, letting go of the blade. Gellron's eyes widened as the sword of Light kept his weapon held in place. Danadrian pulled as much of the Light and mana as he could into his palm, then slammed it against the Demon's stomach.

His eyes popped, and he went flying, hitting a stone column with a crash that echoed through the hall. His body slumped onto the floor, and, Demon or not, he had to have broken more than a few bones. He was still holding out hope that he might have at least been incapacitated, right until his head snapped back up and his sword arm jerked, still clutching onto his sabre.

"Cheap tricks, Lightbringer. I have seen worse, have killed worse. You barely match up to a true Paladin."

He breathed in sharply. "What would you know about Paladins?"

"I respect them, in a way, as much as I would ever respect Humans. They fight and put their lives on the line for their faith, as tainted and twisted as it is. It didn't help them in the end, but-" he tapped the flat of his blade, "-they didn't so much as scream when they died. Bold."

He felt his anger, righteous fury, building in his heart again. He put one foot forward, hands starting to raise. Then he saw the look in Gellron's eyes.

Fury. Rage. Wrath. Faith.

His very presence incited them. Before he could move another step forward, he saw his hands begin to flick. He threw himself back-

"That's enough. It's over."

Alleria stood over him, her blade raised. Her horns were blazing brighter than he'd ever seen, and while her body was shaking, the grip on her sword remained firm.

Gellron looked up at her and smirked coldly. "So, the Talradian is not worthy of the kill, but I am?"

"Enough, Gellron. I don't want to do this, but if I have to…" she breathed in, "I will."

He kept looking up at her. His cheeks bulged.

"Pfft, hahahahaha!"

He started laughing. He actually laughed; the mirthful sound bounced through the empty hall. He might even have started tearing up if given enough time. It might have been one of the most startling and unnerving things he had done yet. A cold shiver ran down Danadrian's spine.

"You, you actually believe that? Oh, this is too good. The exiled Demon finally musters the courage and grit to kill her own brother. It's downright poetic."

"And hardly worth laughing over."

"But it is, it is. Because you really believe that you could kill me, with every fibre of your heart. And yet…" his smile began to fade, "And yet it's just another lie you've decided to tell yourself. That's what you were best at, right? Lying to yourself? Lying to yourself about who you were, who you were meant to be, about why Mother died."

Alleria's eyes widened. "You-"

"And the next lie? That you could kill me. That you could stand between me and my prey. That you could save him."

His sword arm flicked. The sabre vanished. Danadrian's eyes widened as the floor beneath him broke apart, and his approach faltered. Alleria spun around, her eyes wide as a cry caught in her mouth tried to escape. When the blade appeared, shimmering in the air, he only had a fraction of a second's warning.

It sheared away an inch of the skin on his cheek.

Heat. He grabbed his cheek as an indescribable heat rushed throughout his body. His vision was starting to waver. He saw a figure running towards him.

"Danadrian! Oh gods, please no-"

His vision was fading now. The heat had gone cold; colder than the coldest night, colder than ice. He let out a gasp of breath and tried to move his arms to warm himself. They weren't moving. Her voice was growing quieter, fading along with the room around him.

"Danadrian."

Everything was disappearing. He no longer felt the cold. He no longer felt anything. A calm feeling ran over him.

Then he waited.

He wasn't sure what for.

"Your reverence, what becomes of it now?"

"The blade sunders the Soul from its body. Mortals perish instantly as their physical form's links are shattered."

"And what of him, your reverence? He wears their bonds of pain, hunger, and hardship. Does he share their fate, too?"

"His fate is a decided matter. But I see that you are confused, so I will clarify."

They waited.

"You must remember that what his Soul is made of is, in the end, the deciding factor."

A spark.

He breathed out as his vision cleared. The world became bright again, brighter even. A thousand Lights bloomed around him, streaming out into the air. Like stars, like fireflies in the night, they fought back the darkness. And he felt it. He felt the Light occupying every corner and crevice he could see. He felt that unnatural being of Darkness recoil as he grew closer. He felt the nothingness lying dormant across the floor at the centre of the room.

Alleria was holding his head, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were wide, and her face pale, as if she were looking at a ghost. She blinked and registered the bright Light around them.

"Danadrian? It's not… it isn't-"

"It isn't possible." Gellron was staring at him, his eyes as wide as hers as he shouted. "Mortals die, immortals die. The body and mind cannot sustain themselves without the Soul. What- what are you?"

He struggled to his feet. Ignoring the pain, ignoring Alleria's protests. With the Light around him, he felt euphoric.

Words played across his tongue. But when he looked at Gellron, still covered by the shadow of the pillar beside him, his face contorting with emotion, he let them drop away. He just nodded.

"Angelica of Mayare. My faith is pure, Demon of House Wrathius. Can you say the same?"

Jubilant energy was rushing through him. More Light than he could remember feeling was surrounding them. It was like sipping from a glass for days, only to be rewarded with an entire lake. It empowered him, made him feel unstoppable, made him feel whole.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps.

A lone figure walked through the hall of a dead race. He ignored the lights. He ignored the great skeleton bearing down on him. He ignored the Demons. He ignored the Angelica. He ignored the fallen.

Oh.

The Light began to fade, either dimming or slowly falling from the sky, as the euphoric glee was sapped away by a far more real emotion. Regret.

The armoured Talradian finally stopped beside a slumped-over body. He removed his helmet.

Brakenus reached down and gently parted the hair covering her face. He didn't flinch when he met her empty eyes; he just placed his hand down and closed them. He moved her body, so it laid on the ground uniformly. No dark whispers came to him, nor incessant voices. He was alone.

"Keleiva… Brother, I am sorry. I have failed you." He spoke to the dead, who would never hear him even if he knew the grandest of magics. "Once, we called them the future. If only… I just wish that they could have been the last."

If only. After a lifetime of saying 'if only', he thought he had become numb to it. He wasn't.

"I remember when you first came to me with her, brother. I was barely old enough to hold a training sword, and yet I still remember it, clear as day. A baby swaddled in silken cloth that no nurse or maid could silence."

He sighed, "I never asked how much she remembered of her childhood. She was just a babe, too young to remember anything except sounds and smells. And then she was consumed by the same imperfect curse, and I watched a beautiful child disfigured before she'd even come into her own. And there was no childhood left for her then."

He tried to look at her face again. Every part of him wanted to flinch and look away. Only years of seeing his people fall around him, of staring Death in the eyes and not hesitating, let him do it.

"Child of Talradius, Kraton revels in your blood and sacrifice. Let your body and Soul await the end of all things, when the True Chaos comes to end the imperfect and bring forth all things and none. Kraton loves and hates you, Child of Talradius. Know that and let it be over with."

He breathed out again.

"So passes the Last Princess of Talradius."

Does it get any easier for you, seeing things as you do? Is there not an inch of remorse left for you to feel?

"The egg is laid, the bird is born, the bird dies." "The cycle continues."

"The bird dies," he muttered.

Danadrian watched the General of the Demon Hunters running a hand over his niece's body. No one had moved, not even Gellron. He thought that, even from here, he could see the emotions warping the Talradian's face. And in his heart?

It hurt.

When he finally stood again, still staring down at her body, the compulsion making Danadrian stand still vanished. He looked to Alleria, whose back was to him. He reached out a hand.

Brakenus' head snapped up.

Danadrian was thrown backwards off his feet.

A wave of mana erupted outward, radiating in waves. It broke the pillars. It shattered the stone. It made even Gellron and Alleria, who couldn't see what he saw, stagger. He widened his eyes as the light of the room was replaced with iridescent mana, warping as far as he could see. So much of it…

"What was that?" Alleria's voice was muffled, even a few steps away from him. She had raised her sword and was staring at it with wide eyes. The blue glow was growing bright, with more colours dancing inches from its surface. She turned to him, and without a word, he grabbed her. They needed to get away from him.

They would die.

Brakenus watched them run, run towards the only spot not being completely enveloped by his rampant mana. A wave threw him into his sword's radius, and when he reached it, he didn't even stop for a beat. He stomped on the tip of the blade and caught the handle. Alleria was close behind.

"What is happening?" Her voice was normal again. The mana had been doing something to either it or his ability to hear her properly.

He grabbed her arm and threw her in front of him with a yelp. "He's releasing all his mana at once; he's lost control. We're corpses walking unless we can find a way out."

They ran further into the gargantuan hall. How they were even still alive was beyond him. He could feel each pulse of mana pushing against his sword. When he turned around, though, he understood why.

BOOM!

Another pillar beside them exploded as two struggling figures went flying. Brakenus fell on the Demon as boulders and shards of rock broke away and followed him, flinging themselves forward. They exploded metres away from Gellron, who rolled when he hit the ground and ended up back on his feet.

"And that's why we aren't dead yet."

Alleria looked back at her brother, and if her eyes could go any wider, they would. "Which- which of them do you think will win?"

"It doesn't matter because either way we'll be as good as dead." They were approaching an open area, somehow free of debris and rubble. He couldn't feel the Light anymore, but he remembered the awareness he'd been given of the entire room. He pointed.

"There's something over there, I felt it earlier. I think it's Void Magic."

"And you want us running towards it?"

"If you have any better ideas, I'm open to suggestions."

Another part of the roof shattered overhead, and now, to make matters somehow worse, the ground was shaking.

How many of those now-defunct pillars were key to this area's structural integrity? Well, I have no idea, but removing doesn't seem to be doing anyone any favours.

They finally reached the yet-undisturbed centre of the hall. It was barren and uninteresting, but after weeks down here, he wasn't going to be fooled by that anymore. He watched more mana being heedlessly thrown around him and grimaced as he gripped his sword.

This isn't going to feel nice.

He sheathed it and immediately felt both a rush of force trying to send him twenty metres back, and the near-uncontrollable urge to throw up. He tried to use his own mana to resist, but it was smothered in an instant. He was barely able to move it an inch away from himself.

They stepped onto the bricks lining the centre of the hall, and immediately he felt a change. The awful feeling of nothing, of the Void, surrounded them. A dim purple glow appeared and surrounded the two of them, and began growing brighter and brighter.

"Sheath it."

Alleria jerked her head down to her sword, which was beginning to sap away mana it came into contact with, and nodded.

He heard a shout behind them, then a crash. Dust and rubble revealed Gellron, blood running down his face, shouting words at him that he couldn't understand, with an expression that bordered on mania. He ran onto the glowing surface, his sabre swinging wildly. The glow grew brighter again. He felt the Void.

That idiot is going to get us all-

A chain spun out of the dust cloud, flying past them and wrapping itself around a boulder. Brakenus flew inwards like a falcon, eyes trained on the Demon. His second chain whipped around Gellron's sword arm, pulling it down until it scraped the edge of the floor.

The consistent glow broke. It became wild, uncontrollable, erratic. Danadrian felt himself slipping away, felt it pulling at him. He spun around and reached out.

"Alleria, take my hand."

She didn't waste a second. She grabbed his hand with a clap.

The room vanished. Alleria vanished. Brakenus vanished. Gellron vanished. Danadrian vanished.

And finally, there was silence again.

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