After two hours of frantic riding, we entered the illithid caves. We moved under the "Black Shadow" spell—the Golden Guard constantly refreshed it. It wasn't easy, but it was necessary—the later we were discovered, the less time the illithids would have to react... A couple of times, the priestesses cast a "Mirage," and we froze, letting particularly large patrols pass. My sister hadn't lied—they were truly a mixed bunch: goblins, dwarves, nagas, zwergs, and even humans. Incidentally, this was the first time I saw a Light Eldar. He differed from me only in his slightly golden skin, platinum-blond hair, and ears that were even shorter than those of the Atretas. He was dressed in the usual priestly garb, and his weapons were swords with flaming blades and a carved bow. I wonder what kind of Atar he would become if he were captured and dragged into a ritual of alteration? It's a pity, it's not the time and place... But as I'm leaving, I just want to catch your eye...
For a whole day, we crept through the darkness of alien tunnels, gradually approaching the enemy capital. And here, having almost reached it, we encountered a patrol led by an illithid.
It felt almost mundane. The Golds had created a standard system of Black Shadow and Haze, but when a patrol appeared around the corner of the cave, I noticed its strange structure. The patrolling slave soldiers were moving in a circle, with the draped figure of a mind flayer moving in the center. Looking at it, I felt uneasy. Finding my sister with my eyes—I had no trouble recognizing her—I saw her raise her hand in the "Ready" signal. The sound of crossbows being cocked was heard. I grinned and turned my gaze to the patrol. In the last moment before its death, the mind flayer must have sensed something: its tentacles rose upward, and its retinue began to react in different ways to this silent command. But not a single one of them finished their movements—the multiple clicks of the small crossbows merged into one. The lethality of this weapon surprised me considerably: a dwarf in full armor was knocked off his feet, while those unprotected were pierced through and through by the steel arrows. Several of these arrows struck the illithid's head, which burst like a watermelon, scattering tentacles. Black figures leaped forward, finishing off the wounded. The Hisna tore the prostrate bodies to pieces and lapped up the blood. Remarkably, no one touched the illithid. The Eldar quickly searched the corpses for money and trophies. Their snack was short-lived—each Hisna tore off only a "small" piece of meat and, quickly swallowing it, returned to its place in the column. Having tasted the fresh meat, Miss even purred contentedly.
Approaching me on her panther, the sister explained that illithids sense Order-Chaos magic intuitively, and they can also see minds at a certain distance. Therefore, concealment spells are ineffective against them.
We moved on and after an hour of fast riding we suddenly found ourselves at the exit to a huge cave, comparable in size to the Upper Cave, in which Alveristas was located.
A fissure, over a hundred meters wide at its widest, ran down the center of the cave. It was shaped like a very, very elongated diamond. In the center, something resembling an anthill rose, connecting the edges of the fissure. A huge city sprawled on either side of the anthill. The anthill was about six or seven kilometers away, a slum very reminiscent of Mexico City on Earth. And everywhere I looked, I spotted dozens, hundreds of creatures going about their business. The city was brightly lit: on the outskirts, simply by glowing moss, but closer to the anthill, this was increasingly replaced by yellow magical lanterns.
My sister turned to me, and I sensed fear radiating from her. She gestured energetically:
- There are millions of slaves here alone!
"It's too late to turn back. I'll do what I can, you do what must be done. Burn everything here. I've changed my mind about the prisoners—our lives are more valuable. Begin in half an hour. Where's Atere?"
"His squad is waiting for you there," the sister said, pointing to a spot near the entrance to the giant cave.
Having recognized Atere by the pattern of his aura, I greeted him with a sign.
"We'll leave the hisn here," he began a brief briefing. "They'll attract too much attention in the city. We'll proceed on foot. Cast only the most basic camouflage and distraction spells. If you sense you've been discovered or exposed, strike first. It doesn't matter what it is—before death, illithids emit a kind of mental scream. Its range is small, but in such a densely populated city, that's irrelevant. So strike with all your might and whatever you have—this isn't an option for stealth. Asheras must reveal Elviaran's location, so we'll cover him. If he dies, we'll retreat from Ishaksha back to the House. Any questions?"
"Clarification," I gestured. "We have half an hour to penetrate deeper into the city. After that time, or even sooner, the Athar will launch a massive attack on the city. Likely sources are Darkness and Fire. Proto-force emanations are also possible." I turned my gaze to Atere. "That's all I have."
Atere nodded and made the "Nomination" sign.
And we slid into a huge cave.
Wrapped in cloaks and pulling our hoods up as high as we could, we entered the city virtually unhindered. I glanced at the structure, rising several hundred meters high and resembling a beehive. "She's there," the goddess whispered. Glancing at the waiting Atere, I pointed at the building. Spreading out to attract less attention, we merged into the river of creatures hurrying about their business. They ignored us. We tried to flow around the illithids in a wide arc. As I walked through the crowd, I sensed the purposefulness of those around me. Oh goddess, what are they eating? Passing something resembling a cafeteria, I peered in out of curiosity. I wish I hadn't... Apparently cannibalism is common here. Shuddering, I continued on. A flock of children rushed past me. Half-breeds? Quadroons? A Light Eldar scooped up a child and entered the hut. As I passed the entrance, I saw a broad-shouldered dwarf in a dirty apron. Incredible. Even here, in this hell, there is happiness... It's true what they say, faith and hope go hand in hand... It's a shame it will all soon disappear...
We'd covered more than half the distance when our luck ran out. One of Rea's arirs literally bumped into the illithid emerging from yet another house. Its confusion lasted only a moment. The priestess simply didn't have time to react. And the illithid, almost immediately, without any hesitation, struck an invisible blow. The priestess arched and began to fall backwards. It felt as if a boxer had dealt her a knockout blow to the jaw. But before her head could even touch the stone floor, Seah and Leah slammed into the illithid, breaking and tearing its body in a second. At the same moment, all the nearby creatures turned to face us. We quickly formed a group. One of the priests bent over the prostrate arir and, shaking his head, made the "Dead" sign.
A crowd had already formed around us. People simply stood there, looking at us. I looked at Atere and nodded. "Let's begin," he made a sign.
The Arir of Rea struck first, hurling their crescents that literally mowed down those around them. Immediately after, the rest of the group struck with spells, destroying all life. The Arir of Kriata immediately began rapidly drawing a star of creation on the floor. I looked at the body of the dead priestess and, picking her up with my terami, began to compose one of the great spells of the first stage of this Power from the ats of Death.
Once upon a time, a very, very long time ago, when I'si'tor was the first House, another war of nations thundered and raged. In the midst of it, the priestesses of the Great House Sath created entirely new beings based on the Power of Death. They called them ithrir, from the ancient word for "drainers." To me, they were just ordinary vampires. Well, not quite. The first of them were ordinary Atreta priestesses who sacrificed themselves for strength and speed. They had little Gift, nor faith. But Death transformed them, making them truly powerful. Contrary to popular belief, not everyone bitten by them turned into vampires. Some were unlucky and became mere mindless walking corpses. Thanks to their strength, speed, and regeneration, vampires were perfect killers. The only downside to such an existence was a significant reorientation of Gift towards Death. In practice, vampires didn't control any of the Elements. Consequently, proto-powers were also unavailable to them. But while becoming a vampire was a dead end for a Dark Eldar, as the gift no longer grew with age, effectively freezing, for humans and other races, unburdened by immortality and such power, this existence was a kind of escape from the mortal plight. Needless to say, we won that war? After its conclusion, the Eldar attempted to rid themselves of the vampires, but encountered significant resistance. The vampires rebelled and fled Alveristas to the surface, rightly reasoning that they would be out of reach there. The High Council of the Five Houses consulted and decided to turn a blind eye to their existence. Millennia later, past grievances were erased by the results of yet another House War, and the vampires even achieved recognition by the Dark Eldar as a sentient species, leading to the establishment of a small, permanent vampire mission in Alveristas. Of course, some grievances remain, but who doesn't hate us, even just a little? So, in my small library, I discovered a fascinating book on Death magic in general and necromancy in particular. Having struggled to decipher the intricate meanings of ritual descriptions and creature creations, I found the Great Spell of the first stage of Death—the creation of an ithrir, or, to put it simply, a vampire.
While drawing the five-pointed star of "Power Retention" on the floor, I simultaneously created the spell's structure. Quickly completed, I placed the priestess's limp body in the center and activated it. I had never created anything like it before, and I watched the spell in action with interest. But I was prevented from admiring my handiwork. A warning cry came from behind me. Turning, I saw infantry clad in matte armor emerging from around the corner of the street.
"Dwarven hird," creaked the arir Rea, who was standing nearby.
Hird was impressive. The dwarves, quickly reforming and occupying the entire width of the street, advanced on us. The closer they came, the more impressive the armor they wore. Massive shoulder pads, elbow pads, powerful greaves and a chainmail skirt, knee pads, a forged cuirass, a horned helmet with a lowered visor. All the armor was crafted so that the joints could only be penetrated by a blow from below. In their right hands, each dwarf confidently held a small axe, and in their left, a shield very reminiscent of a Roman scutum. The Arir raised their crossbows. A volley. Not a single dwarf fell. I glanced back – the vampire wasn't ready yet. Turning away, I quickly drew the "Firestorm" seal. I call upon the spirit of the Elements, giving it direction. The elemental within me rumbled with displeasure, seeing a rival. Almost simultaneously, I cast a net-spell. The first rank of dwarves kneels, and the second raises their large crossbows. A moment before the volley, Seah and Leah almost instantly cast a defensive spell from their arsenal of Darkness, and the steel bolts are caught in the emanations of the Force. The dwarves rush forward with a roar, but they don't have time—I complete the spell and, pouring out all the flame from my gift, throw it towards them, aiming for the center of their formation. The world freezes. A moment. The net unfolds and, gaining speed, strikes the dwarves. The next instant, the center of their formation is literally blown away by a gust of fiery wind. The cries of the wounded are drowned out by the roar of air and flame. The destruction arc steadily expands, engulfing more and more dwarves and beginning to lick up their pitiful huts. The debris burns in the air. The elemental within me squeals joyfully, I release it, and the little orange bird darts straight into the flames of the burning rubble of the nearest building. Unaffected by the spell, the dwarves run on, but their path is blocked by the corpses of the dead—the work of Kriata's Arirs. There are many, many more of the living. And the dwarves are mired in them. Atere raises his hand with long, sickle-shaped claws in the "Ready" sign, we draw our swords, and a second later—"Attack." Having charged our teras with mana, we rush forward, scattering the dead in our path. About ten meters from the dwarves, the sisters push off the ground with their teras and literally launch their bodies at the dwarves, who are bracing for a clash. Like two living projectiles, they sweep them away, and the Arirs of Rea hurl their crescents at a group of dwarves standing in the distance, and the next second we collide. The fight is very short—the scorched, stunned, disoriented dwarves are no match for us.
Quickly finishing off the wounded and donning fire protection, we continue moving. But before we'd gone even ten meters, a hungry howl was heard from behind—the vampire had regained consciousness. Turning, we saw her tearing a piece of armor from a corpse and sucking on it, gulping down blood. Approaching her, I spoke out loud, as she was absorbed in her task:
– Do you remember who you are?
With visible regret, she tore herself away from her task and hissed, raising her head:
– Dha-a-a-a.
I studied her for a few seconds. Her skin had turned white, almost like an Atar's. Her hair remained white, but her eyes were bloodshot. Her features sharpened. The Dark Eldar beauty took on a predatory quality. Her lips were full and a beautiful red. A thin trickle of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
- Once you quench your thirst, catch up with us.
She nodded in response and latched onto the corpse again, clenching her jaws. I smiled and, chuckling, turned to Atera, making the "Everything is fine" sign. I hadn't seen such surprise in a long time. But I couldn't ask what they were staring at. Without looking back, I cast a fire protection spell on the vampire.
A distant rumble of thunder echoed through the roar of the flames. Looking up, I saw a rising wall of swirling Darkness—Isites had finally struck. Like a gigantic thundercloud, the Darkness, occupying the entire space from floor to ceiling of the vast cavern, was slowly advancing on the city. I laughed: the Eternal had decided to flex some of her power. Lightning began to erupt within the cloud. Another, and another. More and more frequently. A huge, thick, short tentacle erupted from the Darkness, from the end of which an unexpectedly thick bolt of lightning burst forth. Like a tree branch, it ran across the city, and, describing a semicircle, disappeared. Where it had passed, clouds of flame swelled, and the roar of explosions reached us. A wall of smoke, ash, and debris hid our target from us, but I had begun to sense its location.
Power seethed around us, calling from the depths of the flames. The elemental raced alongside us, darting from one burning building to the next. It had grown significantly in size, its wingspan extending to over eight meters. But the further we ran, the fewer corpses and burning buildings there were. Turning another corner, we encountered several mages extinguishing a stone building, yellow fire pouring from its windows. One of the sisters cast a "Lash of Terror" and, with a single blow, destroyed not only them but also several other buildings that had survived the fire. Judging by the surprise that flashed across her face, she herself hadn't expected such an effect.
I stopped and began drawing the Firestorm seal again. Atere began to help, summoning the Elemental Spirit to keep me focused. Having gathered all my restored Fire mana, I released the orange net again. But this time, the roaring wall of fire almost immediately died down halfway and, striking the stone building, dissipated helplessly in orange sparks. Should we say we were surprised? No—we stared in disbelief at the space where the spell had died. A strange, whitish mind flayer slowly emerged from the building. Its clothes were singed in places. Could these really be the legendary mind flayers? Their attack range was supposed to be twenty-five meters? And here? Fifty? Ha! We all started casting spells, but no one had time.
Was it my imagination, or did I really feel satisfaction radiating from the illith? The blow was terrible. It was like being hit over the head with a hammer. The pain was excruciating. Swimming in an ocean of pain, I saw Rea's Ariry throw their crescents at the illith, but he merely waved his hand, stopping them in mid-air, and slowly stepped aside. A moment later, the crescents flew on, but there was no illith in their path. Without releasing the pressure on us, he controlled their return path. One step in our direction – but it felt like a tank's tracks were running over me. Rage seethed inside. How could this be? Is this really the end? What about everything I've said? Suddenly, a swollen phoenix emerges from the flames of the burning building. The illith stops, and through the veil of pain, I sense its surprise. The elemental inhales sharply and loudly, and with a single breath, it douses the lone figure like burning napalm. The pressure on our minds disappears, but the flames quickly subside, revealing the unharmed figure of the illithian. The phoenix tilts its head to the side, astonished, like a chicken, and suddenly utters a polyphonic voice in an ancient tongue I can barely understand:
"So, is that it?" He looks at me and says, "I'll merge with you. It will hurt, but there's no other way to win. Do you agree?"
I look at the illith preparing for another attack.
– Yes!
The elemental flaps its wings sharply, and the building beneath it collapses, raising a cloud of scorching dust and ash. The Arirs wave their arms, casting a wind spell, blowing it toward the Illithid, and run back. The phoenix unfurls its gigantic wings, now spanning forty meters, and slowly rises. I am lifted too—all my atas are drawn to the fiery bird. Having risen about twenty meters, the phoenix burns especially brightly. Its fire is blinding. The floor beneath me cracks with the heat. A wind rises, carrying dust and ash. Suddenly, the elemental folds its wings and, stretching like a string, flows into my chest.
My own mana and the elemental's aura penetrated my skin. It was monstrously painful and pleasurable at the same time. I heard the triumphant roar of a phoenix. It drowned out everything: the noise of battle, the cries of the wounded, the clanking of weapons, the tramp of feet. The sphere of my gift was engulfed in flames. Pain and pleasure intertwined and... vanished. Realizing my eyes were still closed, I opened them, and the first thing I saw was fire. Have you ever watched gas burn in zero gravity? I know one thing—now I'll have something to compare it to... The flames didn't rush upwards; no, they rose slowly and solemnly, like glowing steam, melting into the surrounding space. Raising my hand to my face, I saw my clothes slowly burning and the steel parts of my armor melting. My hand was encased in fire, like a log doused with gasoline. Strength and power entwined my being.
Looking around, I realized with surprise that I was hanging about five meters above the ground. Atere was standing below me, waving his arms excitedly, obviously trying to get my attention. Seeing me looking at him, he immediately started pointing. Huh? Ugh! I'd forgotten about you, Illiti. Feeling a surge of rage rise within me, I screamed:
"I am the blade of my goddess! I am her shield! I am her will! I am the focus of her power! And I will destroy you, monster!"
Spreading my arms wide, I gathered all my flame and power behind me and, sharply pointing at the vile, whitish creature, used both hands as guides. The fire itself intertwined with the Darkness, forming a gigantic, crimson "Dragon's Breath," instantly incinerating the illithii. I moved my hands, directing the spell. The proto-force literally charred the stone buildings, dispersing the rock into thick, black ash that rushed on, engulfing and charring creatures in its path.
And now—consciously! Breaking the spell, I began to create double fireballs from the ats with all my teras, filling them with crimson energy. Finishing, I began to mold them into a ball-shaped sphere, using the same fire as lubricant, and wrapped it all in a very large, stretched Darkness Sphere shell. Having stuffed over a hundred fireballs into it, I hurled the creation deep into the city. The spell pierced the wall of a tall building and exploded, scattering crimson fireballs around. The explosions engulfed half the city. I rose higher and, hovering fifty meters above the ashes, screamed loudly, the phoenix echoing me contentedly, rumbling within my voice:
"I am far stronger than all of you, pathetic creatures! In the name of the goddess, you will be defeated! In the name of the goddess, you will be reduced to ashes! In the name of the goddess, you will be forgotten!"
Turning to the squad, I made the "Follow me" sign, pleased to see my creation among them. Wings formed from fire behind me. I moved them slightly, indicating the direction of movement.
It must be said that simply hanging in the air required absolutely no effort on my part. With the slow flapping of my fiery wings, I merely propelled my body through space.
We moved again toward our target. From behind the ruins of some building, a squad of men emerged, apparently with longbows. They fired a volley at me, but not a single arrow reached me. In response, I struck with a standard double fireball, not at them, but at the miraculously intact building behind them. The archers were buried under burning rubble. A sophisticated execution.
We move on. Numerous fires rage all around. The smoke from them gathers into a huge, hot cloud near the ceiling. Crimson lightning flashes through it. Thunder rumbles frequently. A wall of Darkness silently approaches from behind. Large voids, dusted with black ash, have formed where the crimson fireballs struck. Craters with red-hot edges stand out in the center. Hundreds of charred corpses lie around. But there are also bodies that are practically undamaged—the creatures suffocated by the products of combustion.
We're getting closer to our goal. I can already see that the chasm is spanned by multiple bridges, across which the survivors are escaping. I spot a retreating crowd of illithids in the distance, moving surrounded by slave soldiers. Fury welled up. I conjured a pair of twin crimson fireballs and aimed them at their backs. Suddenly, with only a little distance left in my flight, my projectiles veered sharply and flew far to the side at an almost perpendicular angle. I gritted my teeth, but didn't immediately launch a second attack. Run, run. I looked up at the tephra cloud above. You'll die anyway. I sensed my squad and, without looking, strengthened their fire defenses. And then I began to gather all the flames and smoke from the conflagrations into huge, roaring columns of fire tornadoes, which began to feed and heat the tephra cloud. Even the Darkness stopped and retreated.
"Pathetic creatures! Against the will of the goddess, you are nothing!" My voice was probably heard in every corner of the cave.
"Burn them all!" the elemental inside me roared and screamed.
– Die!
And I unleashed a rain of hot coals and lava bombs on the still untouched half of the city.
From behind a pile of smoldering rubble that had once been a stone building, a group of three Illithids and Atretas slaves emerged. Without thinking, not giving them time to strike, I attacked them with Crimson Flame, but they managed to shield themselves from it behind some kind of ward, held by a tall priestess in a white mask. Atar?
The High Priestess calmly countered my attack with Crimson Flame, channeled into Dragon's Breath. Crimson Fireball was also ineffective. "Let's try another way," the phoenix said.
"Throw me the scythe!" I shouted down.
Having snatched it from the Arir Ehayalin with my terami, I let the elemental grasp it and begin pumping it with his element. The scythe heated up and began to flow, changing shape into a spear. The metal began to burn, hardening in my hands. Not bad. What did you say you did? "Imbued it with your mana, your body, your essence. This will be interesting." I smiled cruelly and, spinning, threw the resulting product at the alien protective dome. The spear pierced the wall of the dome, getting stuck. This surreal image lasted for a moment: the spear, red-hot to a bright yellow, piercing the defense. And then – bang. The spearhead burst with a loud crack, exploding like a fragmentation grenade, peppering everyone inside with tiny, red-hot fragments. Screams of pain, despair, and my own ringing laughter. The alien atar, all cut up by fragments, continued to hold the dome.
Sensing the Atar was defending itself with all its might, I decided to capture this interesting specimen alive. Pushing off with my wings, I almost instantly moved right up to the dome and began tearing and battering it with my teras. This didn't last long—the priestess sank silently to the blood-soaked floor, unconscious. Hovering about five meters above her body, I waited for Atere to approach.
– Do you have silk with you?
– Yes.
- Bring her with us.
Suddenly, one of the illithids stirred. I flew closer. Looking at the blood flowing from its mouth and the mangled half of its body, I said:
- I won't finish you off – you'll die in agony.
Unexpectedly he replied:
- Ahem... Yes... I want to see your end... Hear your scream... When Erruu devours you... It's a shame I won't see the end of your people. The Lord promised...
I chuckled. He seemed delirious. Not intending to listen to him any longer, I soared above the ruins.
After Arir Ekhayalin wrapped up the captive Atar, tending to her wounds, we moved on. A couple of times, Atere's squad encountered groups of ragged warriors. The skirmishes were so intense that I didn't even have time to intervene.
As we approached our target, we emerged into a large square. The other end of the square was invisible—everything was shrouded in smoke. A crimson bolt of lightning flashed. Its light told us we were at our target. The "Hive" was virtually untouched by the fire. Only a few vents high above the ground were spurting flames.
Suddenly, two winged, pitch-black creatures flew out of the crevice. Really? Why didn't anyone tell me?!
"Dragons!" I shouted to Atera. "I'll take care of them, and you keep moving. Elviaran is in the center of the 'hive,' about a hundred meters above us." And I immediately flew higher.
The dragons, making a semicircle, headed towards me, but before I could even flap my wings once, I saw a monstrously huge three-fingered paw grasping the edge of the crevice.
And what is this?
But there was no time to "admire" the sight. The dragons were already nearby.
One of them, flying past, doused me with fire. It had no effect. The elemental even grunted contentedly. But the second dragon, spinning, slammed its tail into me. Considering the winged beasts were simply enormous, and their tails were as thick as a good log, the blow was impressive. Just one moment – and I find myself flying somewhere. Flapping my wings, I darted to the side. Enormous jaws snapped where I had just been hovering. Damn it! The Phoenix roared in rage. Twisting, I doused its enormous black body with Crimson Flame. No effect! I dashed to the side – a wing sliced through the place where I was. There was a way out – a wall of Darkness. What is that called? A tactical retreat? Faster! One comes from above, the second from the right. I miraculously dodge the one above, but get hit again by the tail of the second. Good thing I'm flying in the right direction. The world spins, and I see the larger of the dragon pair catching up with me. Will they make it in time? They open their jaws and… Darkness engulfs us. For me, a feather pillow. For the dragon pair, a concrete slab. The dragons fall to the ground, immediately entangled in dozens of black tentacles. "Destroy Erruu," comes a whisper, and I'm gently pushed out. Yeah, yeah. Onward and singing…
So this creature's name is Erruu? A terrifying fifty-meter giant, a cross between a frog, an octopus, and who knows what else. It stood in the square, looking at me with hungry eyes. I froze above it. What next? Burn it? While I was thinking, Erruu exhaled a large green cloud in my direction. There was no way to dodge that. I struck the cloud with a regular Dragon Breath. The cloud suddenly burst into flames, sending a shockwave in all directions. I blocked it with Darkness Shield. My turn. I summoned Crimson Flame and created a double fireball. My absolute lifesaver pierced Erruu and exploded behind him, throwing the creature onto all fours. Erruu screeched. Not letting him get up, I began to douse him with Crimson Flame. The monster swayed across the square in agony. Die already! Finally, Erruu froze. And all that pathos! Erruu will devour... Ugh. The stench is even worse. Phoenix laughed. "You think he just stood there? If it weren't for our unity, you would have climbed into his mouth yourself! And sat on his tongue! You would have even smeared yourself with oil to make swallowing you easier. Erruu was something of a deity among the illithids. And his psychic power terrified his enemies. Who do you think brainwashed those dragons? Well, it's finally dawning on you how close you were to the abyss."
I cautiously began to control the charred corpse. A squad of Ateres emerged from the "hive." They were carrying several bodies on their shoulders. I didn't know we were doing charity work... Oh well. What if it was someone valuable? Descending toward them, I noticed a figure wrapped in silk and my Tasha in her arms.
- Is this Elviaran?
- Yes, lord.
- How is she?
"She's severely exhausted and wounded, lord. We've cast Healing, but there's a risk she won't be strong enough."
"Come back. I'll cover from above and distract them. Her life is very important."
Skirting Erruu's charred body in a wide arc, they headed back the way we had come.
Soaring higher, I looked down with satisfaction at the burning half of the city. I felt every tongue of flame licking the ruins, rising above collapsed roofs, reluctantly flowing around the charred bodies in the streets. I felt Atere's squad rapidly retreating from me. I felt the illithid slaves thrashing about in the fire. I felt the slowly creeping Darkness and the flame within it dying. Raising my hand, I looked at my palm. It seemed as if flames were seeping through the pores of my skin, supporting me in the air. Something similar must have felt as Munchausen pulled himself out of the swamp by his hair. But if in his case there was pain, in mine there was pleasure, joy, and something akin to devotion. My clothes were fading, gradually crumbling. Metal parts glowed red hot and crumpled like fabric. My boots had long since rotted away, and I floated barefoot. I wouldn't want to show off my bare bottom... I'll have to think about something like a chainmail skirt or something in the future. Of course, even metal will fade over time. But this is a magical world, after all, and something can be thought of. For now, I just thickened the flames.
My thoughts were interrupted by a strange disturbance on the opposite side of the city; something had appeared there. For a couple of seconds, nothing happened. Maybe I imagined it? Suddenly, all the fire on the other side of the gorge began to die down and vanish. Even the embers began to cool. The smoke died down, creating an impenetrable curtain for my vision. I began to move away from the crevasse. Damn it! Atera had at least another hour to run to the camp.
A short roar reached me from far away. A little later, another, this time closer. Phoenix remained wary and silent. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. Either way, I'd have to fight. All this time, embers of fiery rain fell into the smoke. Upon touching the ground, they immediately died out—it felt like they were falling into water. From the depths of the smoke screen, a bolt of blue-green lightning erupted and struck the crimson cloud above my head. It immediately began to fade and darken. However, not all of it—where it was fed by the fiery columns of the tornadoes, it still glowed orange. I slowly swam back, retreating toward the frozen wall of Darkness.
A cool, damp wind blew. Suddenly, black rain began to fall from the sky. When the first drops hit me, the phoenix hissed like a thousand cobras. I drew the fiery tornadoes toward me, simultaneously infusing them with Power. Looking around, I noticed a pair of spears at my feet and blackened steel that had once been dwarven armor. Scooping everything into a pile with my teras, I flew into an area where there was not even a hint of rain. The howling roar of the nearest tornado was a bit distracting, but it couldn't drown out the roar that was already ringing near the crevasse. Damn it, it's getting closer! It's scary. Picking up a metal crowbar, I noticed rust stains where the black rain had landed. Acid? Well, nothing surprising; I've heard of such a phenomenon on earth after volcanic eruptions. But still, such a high concentration... I hope Atere didn't get caught in this rain.
I began to bend and heat the metal with my teras. "Phoenix, will you help me? Do the same as with the spear last time." There was a lot of metal, so I created something resembling a ranser. After waiting for the elemental to imbue it with its essence, I clasped it in my hands.
The tornado's roar became quieter. Clearly, the alien Force was gaining the upper hand. Something resembling a black spear shot out from the shroud of rain. The throw was imprecise, but I dodged to the side, just in case. My caution was rewarded – as it reached me, the spear burst like an anti-aircraft shell, spraying icy shards in all directions. Fear stabbed me in the heart. The opposing proto-force – Ice. A mixture of Death and Water. I gritted my teeth and, creating a pair of crimson fireballs at once, hurled them in the direction from which the spear had come. Against the backdrop of two scarlet flashes, I saw a tall, blurry silhouette. Well then. So we said hello. Another roar. The black-scarlet flame died down, allowing a shroud of acid rain to hide my enemy.
A dozen black spears fly out from the rain. Up the ante? I flap my wings with all my might and soar higher. Multiple explosions. The fragments miss me. I begin to form the cluster of crimson fireballs I've already created. My opponent doesn't let me finish: a veritable black iceberg flies out of the damp darkness, spinning on more than two axes in flight. I see the light from the fires reflecting off its many facets. Desperate, I hurl my unfinished creation at it. A brilliant flash. Chunks of burning black ice fly in all directions. One of them, reminiscent of a knife blade, strikes me in the face with its sharp edge. My mask shatters. Blood pours into my right eye. With a sharp movement, I toss the red-hot rancer from my right hand to my left, wiping away the blood and healing myself at the same time. My blood on my hand glows like molten metal. I look up and see a beautiful winged creature, seemingly carved from transparent ice, flying out of the cloud of the explosion. It holds something like a glaive. I have only a moment to react—and then, ducking under the lunge, I impale the creature on the rancer. It enters its chest and exits its back. We freeze, staring into each other's eyes. I see my reflection in its eyes. I feel its pain and... triumph? And then, after a long second, the creature explodes, shattering along with its weapon into tiny shards of ice that resemble glass. The explosion fills me with icy shrapnel, shattering the remains of my defenses. The explosion of another glaive behind me scatters my wings, and I fall four hundred meters down. I have no strength to scream. I watch, almost indifferently, as some smoldering pile of rubble approaches. In the final seconds, just as I can discern the stones I'll fall on, a thick tongue of Darkness presses between us, enveloping my limp body as if it were a soft feather bed. And I lose consciousness.