I draw my second sword, feeling its familiar weightbolster my resolve. Each time the image of Colton entangled with Lyra flashes through my mind, I channel my fury into the battle, decapitating another Sarrol with a swift, clean stroke. My fire magic follows, incinerating the fallen creatures, scorching a path through the mountainside that leads me closer to her.
But the Sarrols are relentless. One audacious beast dares to claw at my back, its talons sinking deep into my shoulder blade. With a grunt of pain mixed with anger, I twist around, my blades dancing a deadly arc through the air, severing its head in a smooth motion. It falls, its body not yet realizing its fatal separation.
In disgust and frustration, I tear off my tunic, now a ragged piece of cloth soiled by the battle’s grime and the creatures’ vile blood. Reaching the crest of the hill, I pause to survey the scene below on the other side. There, in a grim tableau, are Lyra, Soren, Adira, and Colton, their backs pressed together in a tight circle. They move with desperate precision, each strike and parry a testament to their training and desperation as they fend off the relentless waves of Sarrols. Despite their skill, they are clearly getting overwhelmed—their numbers too few, the enemy too many.
From my vantage point, I see the rest of the Lamia engaged in fierce combat near the town, too far to be of immediate help. A surge of frustration washes over me. Why isn’t Lyra tapping into her dark magic? The power she holds could sway this battle, could scatter these demons back to the shadows from whence they came.
Neither Lyra nor Colton holds a weapon—no surprise given the rather compromising situation I interrupted. I grunt, shoving a beast aside and leaping onto its back, driving my blade deep through its hide. Black froth sprays from its mouth with its final breath. Despite my efforts to reach them, the Sarrolsswarm relentlessly.
Colton skillfully entangles them with roots, freezing them in place, while Lyra delivers the killing blows with her fire magic. Nearby, Adira, one of Drew’s fiercest fighters, wields a sword with deadly grace and uses her teeth in a savage display of Lamia ferocity.
Shaking my head at the madness, I glance at Soren, one of the few mortals brave enough to join the fray. Armed only with a single sword, he fights valiantly, but his human limits are painfully obvious.
A beast lunges at him, seizing his leg and hoisting him into the air. Its claws and fangs tear into his thigh. Adira reacts fast, soaring through the air and driving her blade through the creature’s skull. However, their tight defensive circle begins to falter.
I channel to Soren’s side to fend off more attackers. As I reach him, our eyes meet, and I see his pained face. I touch his wound, and he cries out—an involuntary reaction to the searing pain. Blood is everywhere. The situation is dire.
Lyra drops to her knees opposite me, cradling Soren’s head.
“Soren, you’re going to be okay,” she murmurs, trying to steady him. When her gaze meets mine again, tears brim in her eyes, but as they begin to fall, they transform—shifting from liquid to shadow, dark veins creeping across her skin. “Get him out of here.”
I look up to find Colton nodding in agreement. Despite our mutual disdain, I trust him to watch her back. Lifting Soren, I channel back to the castle, stealing one last glance at Lyra. But she’s no longer herself. The darkness within has taken hold, leaving only black voids staring back at me as I duck into the hive.
“Take me to the infirmary,” Soren gasps between heavy breaths, his blood staining the front of my clothes.
“Where’s the infirmary?” I ask, not knowing the layout of this hive.
“Eighteenth floor,” he manages to say, and I silently thank the gods for the ability to channel. I glance down the hive and quickly count the staircases until I reach eighteen then channel to the floor. If only I had been to the infirmary before, I could have channeled directly inside.
“Where now?” I ask as we arrive, and he points to the second left down the hall. Reaching the door, I kick it open and am surprised to find the room already filled with several people.
“Put him down here,” instructs one of the human males, wearing gloves, pointing to a gurney. I gently lay Soren down and watch as they inject a long needle into his wound. It looks painful, but he seems to relax slightly, likely due to some numbing effect.
“I can help. I have some healing magic, though it’s not very strong, and I’m not accustomed to healing humans,” I offer halfheartedly, not wanting to cause further harm.
“It’s not necessary. We know what we’re doing,” another man replies, pressing gauze against the wound. Feeling out of place, I step back, ready to check on Lyra.
“Wait,” Soren calls out weakly. I turn back to see his face growing paler from blood loss. “I was on guard tonight, and those things didn’t come from the bridge. They didn’t come from Zomea.”
Intrigued and concerned, I step closer, my eyebrows furrowing. “Where did they come from then?”
“I don’t know, but every time we’ve seen them before, they came out of the bridge. Tonight, they started descending from the sky, appearing out of nowhere,” he rasps.
I nod, absorbing this alarming information then channeling back to the surface, my mind racing.
I find Lyra immediately in themidst of the chaos, her dark magic unleashed. She’s casting shadows around her, ensnaring the creatures and yanking them from the sky. With a mere gesture, she hurls them to the ground and obliterates them into pieces. She’s systematically taking them out, one by one. I glance at Colton, who is still diligently watching her back, but these damned creatures are everywhere.
As I’m about to channel my energy to join them, the creatures swarm me again. Deciding enough is enough, I sheath my blades and resort to using only my magic. We need to end this onslaught before we suffer any casualties, though some may have already fallen.
With clenched fists, I unleash my magic, turning these monsters inside out. Their insides are as grotesque as their exteriors, rotting organs emitting a vile stench. Amidst the chaos, I hear a shriek—a sound that cuts through the battlefield. It’s Lyra. My eyes snap to the base of the hill where I last saw her in time to see two Sarrols seizing her by the shoulders, lifting her into the air.
The sight ignites a fury within me. I gather my power, preparing to intervene. I don’t bother channeling. Instead, I let my own wings materialize and take to the sky. I dive toward the Sarrol that’s gripping her right shoulder and wrench it off her. We start spiraling through the air, it snapping its jaws at me, trying to latch on with its fangs. I jab my fist into its mouth and channel my magic to rip its jaw in half, then I drop its lifeless body into the lake below. Once it submerges, a school of shadow fish instantly set upon it.
Fuck the fish—I scan the sky for Lyra. She’s still battling the other Sarrol. Oddly, it doesn’t seem to be trying to kill her, and a troubling thought crosses my mind: what if the heart of Eguina had nothing to do with these creatures? What if, unbeknownst to her, Lyra herself is the catalyst, her dark powers attracting these beings like a beacon?
She emits a burst of light, and they both plummet into Blood Lake. I dive after her, but before I reach the water’s surface, her body catapults out, propelled by her shadows to the shore. She lands hard on the dirt. I channel to her side immediately, but by the time I get there, Colton is already kneeling beside her, his concern palpable as he assesses her condition.
She has little bite marks all over her bare legs where the fish had started to latch onto her. I watch, fascinated and horrified, as the darkness she was emitting slowly gets reabsorbed into her body through the tiny red puncture wounds, sealing them. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, and I can’t look away until Colton’s frantic voice breaks my concentration.
