“Here they come again. Give them the good news,” Tom called out as he took aim at the approaching formation. Above them a fresh torch was thrown into the night, illuminating their targets in dim orange light.

He braced the rifle against the arrow slit looking for someone familiar.

“Hello again,” Tom muttered with a smile as the ornate shield of the knight from before glinted in the night. The bastard was running right at them hiding under said shield. WIth a squeeze of the trigger Tom fired off a speculative round at him, aiming low, hoping one might slip past the armor and wound the bastard. 

He wasn’t making it through the plate at this range, let alone a shield. Unless of course the decorations were just that. A regular wooden shield certainly would do little to stop his rifle.

It appeared he had no such luck. One round after another hit their target, but he kept up the pace, charging the keep. He heard the hiss of a grenade as Essmeralda pulled the pin and threw. It was a good throw, landing just in front of the knight. But he just kept running right on past it out of his line of sight. 

Maybe the fragmentation would get him in the back?

He switched fire to the darklings following. Easier targets. One he nailed with a shot to the throat: it would soon be gone. Another took a round in the leg, limping onwards. Maiko’s rifle spoke, laying low another one. Sapphire’s regular arrows were deadly as always.

“Empty!” Tom called out, pulling back from the slit to reload. Arrows and bolts smacked against the wood and stone harmlessly, but they still reminded him not to look out into the night more than was needed.

Then curiously, he heard a hissing. Looking to Esmeralda, she didn’t have a grenade in hand, and she was looking to him with a similarly curious expression.

“What is tha-”

The explosion blew the wooden window shutters into the room, reducing them to splinters. Tom was thrown against the wall behind him, runic inscriptions flaring as the armor softened the blow, draining his life as its price. 

He came to on the floor, looking around in a daze. His vision was nothing but a blur and his ears could only give him a high pitched whine. 

“What is? What’s going on? Where…” 

Where was he?

He could smell sulfurous smoke as he rolled onto his chest, every limb protesting painfully, his head throbbing. Clutching his temples, he closed his eyes. A moment of stillness, only tinnitus remaining, then gunfire in the distance. Roars of pain, shouts for help. Distant. Far away.

He opened his eyes once more to look around.

“What’s… Who are you?” he found himself asking, looking at the motionless white body, lying on the floor.

“Morten is that… is that you?” He crawled over on his knees. “No no no no. Listen, you are going to be fine you’re… you are… You’re not Morten. You’re… Essy! Don’t move.”

She said nothing in reply. Didn’t move a muscle. Was she dead?

He went to hold his left hand in front of her snout. He felt nothing. 

“No no no, how do I. Do I? Oh come on you bitch.” He tore at his helmet, gauntleted hands unable to find the latches and buckles. “Come off god dammit!”

Then a pair of fliers swooped past the now wide open window, screeching as they passed.

Darklings. Darklings, that’s right. They were fighting. There was an explosion. Something blew in the shutters. The darklings had grenades too. They wanted in, and this would be a path for them. They would be back. They had killed Essy, a mother of three.

‘Oh I am going to rip you apart.’

---

“ESSY! TOM!” Sapphire called out, pounding on the door. 

It was clear whatever had just happened, it had happened in this room. 

“For Tula’s sake. ESSY!” she shouted as she kicked the damaged door in. 

Inside the room was devastation. Splintered wood all over, Essy lying on her side by the wall, motionless. And there was a darkling perched on the windowsill, staring at her, the pair of them frozen for but a moment.

“Oh shit, oh fuck!” 

She fumbled for an arrow, nocking it as the creature charged. Behind it came more.

Then its face was blown to pieces. And she was showered in blood and gore, standing there arrow drawn, in shock.

“KOM SÅ FOR HELVED, SJOV FOR HELE FAMILIEN!” a deranged sounding Tom roared as darkling after darkling was blown away. The human fired his rifle with haste, though there was not much sound, muffled pops at most.

Then he stopped and started working the rifle. Nothing could be heard at all as he reloaded. Sapphire shook off her shock and loosed her arrow. Another hellspawn died while trying to clamber inside.

“I will get Essy!” she shouted, hoping the human could hear, discarding her bow into the hallway as she leaped forward, grabbing her friend by the shoulders. Essy’s head slouched as she was picked up and dragged out of the room.

More were coming, but Tom wasn’t ready to fire yet. He drew the revolver instead and started picking them off as soon as they could land in the window. They tried to hide behind a simple shield. That didn’t save them.  

The human staggered as he fired, sound still muffled. Sapphire thought perhaps her hearing was going from all the noise as she made it out of the room.

“Oh my Gods, is she okay?” the perfectly clear but panicked voice of Wiperna then came from behind her.

“Don’t look it,” Raulf added, the pair having left their posts much like Sapphire.

She looked at them confused for a moment. Then shook her head. “I don’t know, help. I gotta help the mani-”

She didn’t finish as a still living darkling came flying past, crashing into the hallway wall with a crunch. Raulf, always practical, was quick to jump on the creature’s neck before it got up.

“There, that’s the end of that one. Tom, how’s it going in there?” he questioned, getting back up, Sapphire peeking around the doorway to see.

The human currently had a darkling trying its very best to club him in the back with the blunt side of an axe while the human was in turn pummeling another in the face repeatedly. All in eerie quiet and dim lighting from the hallway.

It was a strange sight to behold for sure. Almost like it wasn’t truly happening. A dream perhaps…

“TOM! Your armor! Turn off your armor!” Sapphire shouted, realizing just why nothing sounded right.

He paused for a moment. Then the clang of the axe rang out against his back, though it didn’t seem to faze him much.

“Give him a hand would you, Raulf?” Wiperna beckoned.

“Of course,” the farmer replied, taking aim and blowing a hole through the side of the skull of the darkling behind the human. “There we go. Oh look, another.”

“Sapphire! Go tell Chuck. I will get her out of here! She is still breathing,” Wiperna ordered, picking Esmeralda up in a bridal carry. “Move your claws, woman!”

“Won’t need to go far, look who it is,” Sapphire replied, stomach sinking as she saw Kokashi coming up the stairs calling out for Quinlin. Rachuck was hanging from him, clearly wounded and badly so.

“I need to help them, go Wiperna. Best hurry.”

---

“I will not lie. It is bad sir. He has lost an arm and there may be more. He held them off, alone. I am so very sorry.” Kokashi relaid solemnly as he relayed the news. “I hope he will be alright.”

“It is not your fault Koko, What about you, are you alright? Can you still help them?” Apuma questioned tenderly. They were asking so much. But they had to ask, no demand. But he so preferred asking. 

“Yes sir. I am able.”

“Very good, then go to Maiko, he will need you. Do the best you can, I am sure we shall prevail.” Apuma had hoped to sound more heroic. Like his son would have done. Instead he sounded meek, doubtful… He was doubtful.

“Help with what? what’s going on down there?” Jackalope interjected, rudely as always. But today, most understand. 

“A bomb blew in the arrow slit, my wi- Essmeralda was hurt quite badly. Tom remained behind. They are stemming the hole and falling back.”

“Oh the mother fuckers! I leave him alone for five fucking minutes! I told you I had to BE THERE!” she shouted, directing her anger towards Apuma. It was he who thought it best to keep her behind, in case someone needed the help. She was the most capable fighter they had left to send anywhere now. 

He bowed his head in shame as she stormed off, polearm well in hand. Some places would whip you for such talk to a noble. He just felt she was in the right to be angry.

‘It could be worse, it could certainly be worse, always remember that, the stories. It is always darkest before the dawn,’’ he thought to himself as he stared longingly at the stairs.

How he wished he could go be at his side. His sweet little boy. Nunu would do her best, he was sure. But it wouldn’t help himself right now. He had to lead now.. From the grand hall. Oh how he wished it wasn’t true. He knew nothing of battle and fighting,he was being useless again. Just like Nunuk had always said. His worst fear becoming true.

Young Junior tapped his shoulder. He had become lost in thought once more. Quickly he gave the young man his attention. “Yes, what is it? Is it going well?” He asked with pitiful hope. The young man’s face betrayed little of what he had to say.

“They are coming down through the roof. Edita is keeping tabs on their advance. Dakota is trying to stamp them out before they make it further down. If they take the room above the library we will have to move everyone inside. And they are almost out of ammunition, sir,” the young man replied with a stern nod. Such bravery from someone so young. 

“I see, thank you. Tell Dakota… Tell Dakota they have broken through the wall on the second floor. They will hold at the stairs to the third floor. Maiko is confident they will hold them there. Rachuck has been hurt, and her mother must tend to him. He will be fine,” Apuma lied. “Do-do they need help? Up above. We might have some bullets to spare.”

“She will be happy for the ammunition. They didn’t say otherwise, I don’t think they would mind the help either. But who do we have left?” Junior questioned, looking around the greeting hall. Things were getting sparse. They had already sent help to Rachuck. And despite it, his little boy was lying maimed on a table.

“I don’t know. Not many,” he admitted, looking at the stony wall that parted them from the greeting hall. Parted him from his sweet little Lin. She too needed him. He was needed everywhere.

“How is Shiva doing?”

“I don’t know. I will go ask,” Junior replied, the pair looking to another patient being tended.

The smith and the young man’s father stood working at a table. The machinegun had stopped working for them. Not that they had many bullets left for it. Jarix had the rest, and they hadn’t seen the dragon for some time now.

“Go ask them if they can fix it. If not, we need them for other things,” Apuma directed the young man. “Then go tell Dakota.”

“Of course, sir. Right away,” Junior replied, running off to his father’s side. 

“We cannot let them advance further. Soon they will stumble upon what they are seeking,” Paulin then spoke from behind him. Her voice was as unwelcome as ever.

“And we are dying to stop them,” Apuma protested, turning to face her, trying not to seem so distraught.

He had to be strong for them all. He could not let her decide the course of battle. What did it matter if they won with half their number in the grave? And everyone had done such a good job so far. Maybe it could last.

“Yes, that is how battles work. Where is the guard when you need them? What I wouldn’t give for some Greypeaks.”

“I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. What do you want?”

“I simply wished to remind you: Victory comes above all. We have more we may use. Victory matters more than any other consideration.”

“What in the devil do you mean, woman?” A sharp hiss caught their attention before Paulin received his reply. Followed by shouting next door.

All looked towards the greeting hall. Towards where the dragon lay. Had she broken free? He did not smell acid. There was no screaming, only expressions of alarm, orders, questions, and confusion. 

“Lin! Are you okay?!”

---

“I’M FINE, DAD!” she called back, as loudly as she could manage. The doors were open. Should they close them? Should they run?

Everyone stared at the needle thin beam of light. The licking flames that caressed the blackening wood of the massive door. It was moving… It was cutting.

“DAD! GET IN HERE!” she shouted, casting her gaze to her circles. Which one? As they waited she had the time to prepare no less than four. She could only use one. Which would be right?

“Yldril! To her side!” Fengi called out as those few who held station in the greeting hall grasped their weapons.

The dragon rose and moved deftly in the cramped space, head held low as she coiled close to Linkosta.

Behind her the short hurried steps betrayed her father rushing to her as well. This was what her training was for. Rachuck and Dakota had already done their parts. It was her turn. She would show them. 

That she was a Bizmati too. Just like mother. She could fight! She wouldn’t be scared.

She donned the goggles they had been gifted, with them she could see beyond the door, and deep into the night. Looking for magic rather than light. She watched her hand tremble, lines of power pulsing through her every finger. So small, so delicate.  She was scared. She did not know what she was doing, only what the book said. What they had practiced.

She took a breath and stared at the ground, she needed a moment to collect her thoughts. There would be no room for error.

“It is a spell of some sort,” the dragon then spoke. She could feel her skepticism.

“A thin beam of heat. They are cutting,” Paulin then spoke from behind them. “It must be a witch.”

“A witch borrowing power,” her own father added to the chorus.

She glanced to the shield spell. Heat she could block, but she did not know if she could summon a shield outside the door if not she wouldn’t be able to save it. But maybe she could save them if it fell. Now was no time for experimentation. She must rely on what she knew, not what she didn’t

‘Let the witch burn her power on the door. Then we stop her.’

Great timbers started to creak and groan and she looked up. It was cutting through the beams sticking into the great hinges. They knew exactly where to cut.

“It will not be long until they are through,” Paulin spoke aloud. “Apuma, this is what ‘this woman’ means.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see a bag fly through the air. It shone like a star to her goggles blindingly bright. Her father caught it and looked at it with confusion as Lin lifted the goggles for a moment. It was an ornate  pouch;  purple, with gold stitching.

“Use it!” the investigator urged. Almost pleaded.

Her father opened it, taking out a pinch of pearly white powder. “Oh my… I… are you quite su-.”

“Victory at any cost.”

“I- Yes, of course. How do you?”

“Like this.” Linkosta leaned over and grabbed a pinch. She rubbed it between her fingers. Like diamond dust and chalk, ground fine, sparkling and brilliant even in the faint firelight.

She would be lying if she did not admit that she wanted to sneak some herself. She did not even know they had any pre-ground. 

She laid the powder out along the back of her hand in a line. Then, pinching closed one nostril, she snorted the powdery concoction. 

“WHOA!” The effects were instant and most unpleasant. A burning sensation ripped at her nose all the way to the back of her throat. She drew a breath and the world seemed to shimmer with brilliance. Colors sharper, darkness receding. She could see, feel, hear everything. She had never felt so alive.

The spells burned in the floor before her, green eyes staring at her like roaring fires. 

“Come on, Dad. Let’s show ‘em.” She beckoned lowering her goggles staring transfixed at her hand. Every line and path shone with bright shimmering light, all the colors of the rainbow blittering through. It was marvelous, perhaps the most beautiful thing she could remember seeing. 

“Yes- Yes, of course my buttercup. How did you… Was it like this?”

“Yes that is it…” She snapped from her reverie as Yldril grumbled. “Quickly now. we must hurry.”

---

“Oh come on you stupid mutt!” Kalesi shouted at the pathetic mount as it buckled underneath her, falling away into the night with but a whimper. The light faded from her bloody talons as her own wings caught her.

It had felt so damn good, feeling something that big and powerful withering away at her touch. If only she didn’t need to concentrate so much, then she would have time to savor it even more.

Looking to the keep, she was almost through. It might be enough. It would have to be. She needed to get to the prize inside. A dragon. A black one no less: weaker, easier. If she could break its mind, who knew? Maybe they could make another shadow. If only they could have brought the little keep down on her head, then it would be easy. They’d have had all the time in the world to chat and shackle.

She turned away into the safety of the night, diving for her retinue. It was time to do as Lucera told her, much as she despised that uppity old goat. He always thought he was so damn brilliant. But could he cast even a simple spell? NO! He was just a pathetic knight.

“Come on you bunch of witless losers! You know what to do. SIGNAAAaaaal!” she shouted out as she passed by where they were supposed to be hiding. Little if anything gave them all away down in the grass. 

By the time she came back round again, the first wave was already in the air and climbing, dim silhouettes visible against the lights of the keep. They would knock the door in and bait the dragon into using its breath, distracting it. 

Her last two terrors lead them, numbers 6 and 9 if she remembered correctly. Hopefully one would survive. They were soft and warm to sleep on if they weren’t too sticky. And Lucera might not let her have another one. 

She kept back watching with anticipation as they closed in. At speed they charged the gate, making ready to land hard against it. 

With a bang of shattering timbers and creaking wood, the pair impacted and the door fell from its hinges inwards towards the hall. She watched on the wing, wind soothing in her ear as she looked on with a smile. It was working.

The door tumbled in as in slow motion, the terrors’ riders pulling back on the reins. Then the door stopped, as if hitting a wall.

The terrors were already scrambling back when the door started to move back the other way. For a moment she doubted. Perhaps they would be squashed in turn by the dragon. But they slipped off to the sides away from the door as it came back the other way and slammed into the stone platform jutting from the keep with a thunderous boom. 

“YES!”  she cried out in triumph. The way lay open. And there was her prize, free for all to see. A female black dragon illuminated by torchlight, dragonettes hurrying about her. And they had just pushed their precious door away. There was nowhere for her to hide now. 

Hurrying what she could, she made for the terrors. On the ground the rest of her posse would be taking to the skies already. Darklings were oh so good at remembering plans and orders. 

But the dragon was hers. She rushed for her next mount. She would need its life. She would get this kill. Not that little bitch Lucera.

---

“Uuuuuh, where are they all at?” Fengi asked with confusion from her spot at the base of Yldril’s neck.

The dragon had not only caught the door, but she had pushed it back out. She had hoped they would manage to squash some of them. But nothing. It was just an empty platform.

“Especially that mage,” Yldril snarled as they both peered out into the darkness. “I hear wings coming… lots of wings.” The dragon looked straight ahead and Fengi felt her start to tense. She might want to try and blast them from the sky. 

It wasn’t as if spilling on the door would be a great concern now. It was already busted.

Then the arrows started to come in. Realizing the danger, she leant over the side of the dragon and quickly slid down to the ground clutching her gun. The enemy would see her before she saw them, and they would be shooting at the dragon.

“I am under you, don’t step on me,” she called out, the dragon roaring in reply as the first salvoes hit.

“Want to tie my legs together too while you are at it?” Yldril drew a breath and sprayed into the night as projectiles kept coming down. She had no armor to take such punishment. 

The two guns they had fired in reply, though it wouldn’t be enough. They would never win a fight like this on the ground. But they couldn’t abandon the greeting hall either.

Making her way towards the open she shouted “Yldril! Can you pick up the door? Maybe you can hide under it?!” She was careful to phrase everything as a question. Else she may seal the dragon’s fate by mistake.

“You must be joking!” Yldril snarled, but Fengi could see her move to try and pick at the edge of the door, the massive slab budging slightly.

It would give her a shield if she could raise it up

“MAGE!” The callout came from behind them both. Fengi couldn’t see it, but she felt a chill running down her spine. Surely they were going for Yldril. 

With her gone the middle of the keep would be open. And she couldn’t even defend herself if the attack came from afar. Fengi jumped out from cover, looking to the sky for any sign. She just about made out a faint blue dot in the distance when a sort of strange ghostly plate appeared in the sky above them. Maybe a meter or so across.

“We got it!” Linkosta declared with confidence as a pinprick appeared on its corner. The beam was aimed squarely at Yldril’s head. 

Quickly the ghostly plate shifted to hold the dot in its center, like a shield of sorts.

Realizing what had happened, Fengi looked back over her shoulder to see Linkosta and Apuma standing hand in hand, tails wrapped about the dragon’s leg. Their eyes burned with fire and the spell circle glowed like nothing she had ever seen before.

“She is quite peppy, isn’t she?” the old man asked rhetorically, strain clear in his voice; the old man was struggling.

“It’s okay, dad, we got this. Just concentrate,” Linkosta chuckled, relief on her face. The spell was working.

“I am, I am. How long do you think she will last?”

“Not long, feel that?”

“Yes, she is slowing down already,” the old man said, clearly relieved.

“No you fools, she is pinning us,” Yldril sneered. “I cannot move.”

Fengi looked back into the night at the enemy entering the light from the darkness. So many wings. Vargulfs, lots of them, with riders with lances and stringers hanging ready.

“Shoot the fliers!” Fengi called out, shouldering her gun and letting rip at the nearest foe. It was still far, but she clipped it, the vargulf veering off as it struggled to keep from crashing.

Behind her more shots rang out and a few arrows whistled out.

The shield would provide little protection against the flanking attacks. Archers even landed on the far side of the platform to fire under it. 

“Eyes to the skies, they are mine!” Yldril growled with hatred as yet more arrows peppered her. Careful not to move her connection to Linkosta and Apuma, she bent down her head and opened wide.

A stream of acid poured forth like a waterfall of death, spraying the platform and all who stood on it. Some tried to evade, while others crumpled where they stood.

Opening her gun, Fengi ejected the spent round and replaced it as quickly as she could manage. She had to look down to see what she was doing. Only for a moment, raising the weapon and her gaze as one. A vargulf with a rider was coming for her, lance leveled and ready.

She pulled the trigger and the rider slumped in the saddle, but there was no stopping what was coming. 

“Fengi!”

She heard Lin call out as she took a step back, reaching for her knife. If she turned she was finished. Always face the enemy.

“No, Lin!”

Fengi stared at her death approaching, but then there was a sickening crunch. A ghostly plate crushed the creature, swatting it like a fly into the floor with such force it shattered like a… like a wolf dropped from the keep. 

Apuma shouted in pain and alarm as the spell faded. Then Yldril roared in chorus, the dragon staggering back.

Fengi looked right, then left. Who, what? What just happened?

“Lin? Yldril?”

“DAD! Are you okay?!”

---

“I WILL EAT YOU ALIVE, WITCH!” Yldril roared, holding her paw in the path of the fiery beam. They were aiming for her one good eye. She would never be a cripple! It burned and it tore, but it didn’t burn through her paw.

Gritting her teeth, she cursed. Why had no one given her armor? All their wealth and power, yet she wasn’t worth a plate of iron.

And the vargulfs didn’t stop. Instinctively she took a step back, rearing up as more came in. The stingers wouldn’t pierce her scales if she was lucky. The lances would. Someone shouted in alarm behind her, but she had no time. They had let her protect herself. They could move if they wanted to live. Anticipating the path, she brought down her right paw and bashed one clear from the sky as it came in, crumpling it like an overly brave child.

Then she fanned her wings with all her might, sending many of the little beasts off course. Two hit each other, one looked certain to miss her. A fourth was coming straight for her chest.

‘Inexperienced,’ she chuckled as the lance broke against the heavy plates on her chest. Finally some good luck.

The creature and its rider followed the weapon, crashing against her chest. “Amateurs!” she called out with glee as more sought to pincer her. Two per side. Lancers, not vargulfs. They forced her to choose.

Twisting right, she led with the edge of her wing, crushing the closest of the two lancers into the ground. But the rest would manage it.

‘Cheating bastards,’ she thought, defeated. She knew the plan. It was always going to happen, and she couldn’t run when everyone else did.

Fengi’s shotgun sounded, the second lancer that she was facing catching it in the wing and spearing into the ground short. Then she felt the other pair hit her in the back. 

They plunged deep. She could feel them scratching her ribs, her breathing growing harder. She roared and twisted to reach them, closing her eyes as she swiped blindly with her left. Taking away what had been shielding her. She couldn’t reach, both darklings perhaps already dead from the impact.

And the beam returned, burning at her face. The moment it did, she felt it intensify tenfold. The witch had been waiting. She whipped and thrashed her head about, throwing off the witch’s aim as it burned away scales on her face, searing the skin beneath.

She roared and felt liquid in her throat, coughing involuntarily. “Help me you evil bastards!” 

---

The dragon roared and coughed. She was wounded. Her father had saved her from her own mistake. That wasn’t what the spell was for at all… But it had saved Fengi.

“Get him to Mother,” she pleaded, looking at one of the young men from Deriva. She didn’t even remember his name. 

She felt sick to her stomach, but they needed her. Her father was old, frail. She wasn’t, and she had never felt like this. She could do it. The books said it only took one. If you were skilled enough.

Her eyes pierced the dark, seeing what was coming, line after line, evenly spaced, blackened souls flickering in the night. She stood, and then she ran. She ran for the dragon. “Yldril! I’m going to try again!”

She couldn’t have the dragon cutting off the flow of magic, it would be a disaster. She didn’t even know what the dragon had left to give. But she tapped deep, looking to her next circle. She took a deep breath, reaching out and feeling the power flow through her. The world quieted, roars and screams becoming distant like echoes of a dream.

She reached for the spell and spoke the links of the magic. Rune by rune, her tongue dancing over the arcane words.

She felt it take hold. Opening her eyes, the circle was burning bright, and looking to the night she grasped a vargulf from the air, like plucking an apple from a tree. It stopped in its tracks and she felt the spell drain through her. Were she the source, she would be dead in seconds. But she wasn’t.

It was flowing through her. Her alone. She was doing it!

She snapped from her reverie as Yldril roared. Another lance landed, and Yldril batted wildly against nothing, taking another step back, looking like she may fall over.

Linkosta squeezed, then let the vargulf and rider fall away. Feeling through her spell, she grasped the lance. Light, swift, deadly. 

Sapphire made it look easy. Hopefully it was. 

Quickly she picked her next target and like a dart the two meter lance flew true, running them clean through. Like a sparrow it stopped and then darted for the next, then the next. One she missed, but she soon corrected, sending beast after beast tumbling from the sky into the pool of acid Yldril had laid. 

If they survived the crash, they would not live for long.

She didn’t even feel as if she was seeing. Simply plotting. Like drawing lines from dot to do. Like dad had shown her for drawing runes when she was little. She was spelling death in the darkness. “Wuuuhuuuuu! It’s working! It’s working!”

“That bitch is fucking crazy!” someone said behind her. She instantly felt sorry. Dad always said she got carried away, but this… this was… This wasn’t her fault. She felt so high right now, so happy… Wasn’t sure why, didn’t matter anyway.

Yldril groaned, then whimpered. Slowly she sank to the ground, sitting on the stone and then leaning forwards. Like a collapsing tower, still holding up her paw to shield her.

Realizing what she had done, Linkosta suppressed a gasp. That she could wield so much power, she had one thing she must do last of all. Looking to the darkness she saw her dot of blue.

“Die Witch!”

And she hurled the lance with all her might.