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The warriors of the Cairn tribe had seen countless battles through the last decade. From open field skirmishes in the grasslands of Dusk Valley to raids on Hollow Shade garrisons. They had fought all manners of enemies, guardsmen, mercenaries, battle mages, beastkin. Yet they had never seen anyone like Maximus. 

He stood a head taller than any centaur, with muscles that rippled underneath his skin. His arms were wider than a woman’s waist and his reach was twice as long as any man’s. He wore heavy armor, though it did nothing to slow him down as he waded through the Cairn’s warriors. 

Maximus slashed his ax across their shields, tearing them in half through brute force. With his free hand, he snatched a warrior’s throat and snapped it like a twig. A vampire dashed behind him and stabbed him with a spear in the leg. Maximus grunted and kicked him with his hind legs. The vampire’s chest caved in with a crack and he went flying across the street.

A battle mage channeled Orange and doused the centaur in flames. Maximus grimaced from the heat as the flames licked parts of his exposed grey coat. He bowed his head, his helmet shielding his face from the worst of the heat, and charged the mage. She summoned for more chromatic energies and widened the plume of fire, slowing the centaur, but Maximus pushed on, one step at a time. Her eyes went round in horror as he loomed over her. 

She turned to run, but Maximus grabbed her by the back of the head and slammed her into the ground. She cried out in pain before he silenced her with a hoof to the head.

Maximus panted heavily and unhooked and ripped off his armor. Several plates were already melting together from the heat. He patted the spots of his coat still on fire, then jumped back and dodged a sword strike.

A battle mage and over a dozen warriors remained between him and Loh and Marek. Maximus took a deep breath and stood up straight, even if it sent a sharp pain up his back. The battle with the dragonbane atop the wall had left him worse than he had let on, but it didn’t matter. He needed to buy Loh time to deal with the dire human.

Hefting his ax, Maximus snarled and charged the warriors.

Orange flames lit up the night street of the Villa District as two high master mages dueled in the rain. Marek called upon his vast reserves of mana to fuel his flame spells while increasing their power through Yellow wind magic. His opponent was skilled that was certain, but Loh was exhausted that much was clear. Countless small cuts and scrapes decorated her pale grey skin and the swelling over her left eye was becoming obvious. Most obvious of all, was the way she favored her right leg.

She was heavily injured, it was a surprise she was standing, let alone able to spell cast through the pain. And yet somehow Loh was holding him off. Marek tried to get in close and take advantage of his strength and his unscathed body. But Loh kept her distance, constantly evading him by using shadow tendrils to pull herself in one direction or another. She did it so naturally it was as if they were extra limbs across her back.

If he couldn’t get close, then Marek would try to overwhelm her with firepower, but she matched his augmented flame and wind spells with sheer proficiency. Her flames were smaller yet the heat and force behind them kept destroying his spells. Marek had prided himself in his overwhelming magical talent and power as a dire, but this was more than power, it was tremendous skill, complex weaves formed in a split second and without a single iota of waste.

A sudden cry caught Marek’s attention and he glanced towards the sound. That damned centaur had caught one of his warriors by the waist. Maximus squeezed the man’s rib cage until it collapsed. The warrior coughed up blood and his face went red, and with one final crack his expression went slack, and Maximus dropped him beside the rest of the warriors.

Marek frowned in disbelief at the sight; all his men and women, the elite soldiers of his tribe lay dead and scattered around the centaur. Several deep cuts covered the centaur’s legs and one deep slash over his upper chest. Maximus turned to him with a tired glare, then collapsed.

A shadowy hand grabbed Marek by the ankle. 

“Shit!” He swung his orichalcum spear down at the shadow, but it snapped forward and yanked off his feet. His head banged into the cobblestone and his vision swam. Loh was atop him before he sat up, dagger poised to strike.

A panicked instinct to survive kicked in and Marek slapped the dagger away reflexively. His hands shot out and wrapped around Loh’s throat. She coughed and tried to pry his hands off, but he channeled Brown and invigorated his dire muscles with even greater strength.

Loh made a painful expression as her fingers scratched at his wrists. 

“Did you think I would die to someone like you? After everything!?” Marek snarled and stood to his feet. “I won’t die here. I will fight. Until the Helenes are dead and my people are free, I will fight!”

Loh kicked the air helplessly and gasped for air. Marek squeezed his hands tightly around her throat. He frowned, confused. Try as he might, her neck didn’t snap. He squeezed harder and still, he couldn’t crush her throat. Was she… heavier?

Marek felt his arms begin to burn from holding her up in the air. His wrists began to tremble and his skin was growing… pale?

His eyebrows shot up in shock, “Drain magic!?”

Loh curled her bloodied lips in a defiant smile. Her hands gripped his wrists tight. He tried to pull away, but he couldn’t. As he grew weaker she grew stronger. Gasping for breath, he fell to his knees, and she landed on her feet.

Loh pried his hands off her neck but did not let go of his wrists until his skin grew pale as snow. He toppled over and wheezed.

A retinue of Noir guards rushed into the street, led by the House’s seneschal, the vampiress Lily.

Loh panted heavily and tilted her head up to the rain. She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed, before turning back to Marek lying on the ground. He reached for his spear with trembling fingers.

“It’s over.” She conjured an orb of fire in her hand and pointed it at his head.

“Nothing’s over,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “I refuse to die here, not after everything I’ve sacrificed to get here.”

“You aren’t going to die here, as much as I’d like to end your wretched life. No, you won’t escape your fate so easily. You will face our council for your crimes against the people of this city.”

“No… No!!” Marek screamed and slammed the spear into the ground. It surged with power and exploded in a blast of energy, and sent Loh and the Noir guards flying back.


~~~


Stryg shot a flame bolt at the dragonbane to no effect. Xyloth glanced at him, but quickly lost interest and began to tear down the walls of the manor, poking his head through a room, before moving on to the next.

“It’s searching for something?” Aurelia muttered.

“It’s not here for us…” Stryg’s eyes widened, “Maeve!”

“Stryg, wait!” 

But he had already dashed off towards the beast. He called upon Orange and White. Stryg tossed more bolts of flames and cast rays of light, but the spell crashed harmlessly against the dragonbane’s hide and dissipated.

The giant beast didn’t even bother turning around and focused on tearing apart the mansion. Stryg drew Krikolm and leaped at him. He stabbed the scarlet blade into the monster’s leg. Krikolm sank into the translucent, yet thick hide with ease and hungrily drank the black ichor within.

Xyloth jerked back and sent Stryg crashing back. He glanced at the ichor seeping from his calf and then at the scarlet sword covered in the same black liquid. Xyloth narrowed his eyes and growled.

Stryg grinned wryly, “Finally got your attention, huh?” He shifted his feet and took a sword stance, but his step faltered and he swayed and almost tipped over. His vision swam and he suddenly felt dizzy. He could feel his mana being drained far more rapidly this close up to the beast, his void aura was overwhelming.

Xyloth noticed the sudden lapse in focus and swiped his claws down on him.

“Stryg!” Aurelia yelled and channeled Green. 

Vines bloomed from the earth and wrapped around the dragonbane’s limbs, only to start withering at his touch. Xyloth pulled against the vines and lashed out with his claws. Stryg leaped to the side as the giant paw slammed into the ground behind him, sending debris everywhere.

Stryg rolled and staggered to his feet. His heartbeat bellowed in his ears and a cold sweat ran down his back. The dragonbane was fast, faster than any opponent he had ever fought. He barely managed to dodge. If it hadn’t been for the few remaining vines, then he would have…

“Move!” his mother screamed.

Xyloth ripped through the last of the vines. Stryg’s hands scribbled across nothingness with deft muscle memory. Red sigils burned in the air and formed a red dome around him. Xyloth raised both his arms and brought his fists down on the dome. The Red wards shattered and Stryg fell back, barely escaping the strike.

The dragonbane raised his outstretched hand, claws glistening in the night, and raked his claws down. Blueberry jumped him from behind and sank his teeth into his shoulder. Xyloth flinched and his claws missed Stryg. He roared angrily and tried to brush off the frost wolf, but Blueberry dug his teeth in and shook his head rabidly, tearing at the flesh. Xyloth reached out with his free arm and managed to grab the wolf by the scruff of his neck. With a deep grunt, he yanked the wolf off and hurled him away.

The frost wolf flew up into the air and crashed into the stables.

“Blueberry!” Stryg screamed and scrambled towards him.

Blueberry tried to stand shakily but he collapsed with a whimper. Stryg reached his side and spotted a beam from the stables that had lodged into his underbelly. The wolf looked at him, fear in his pale blue eyes, and whined softly.

“No,” Stryg whispered. A hand grabbed his shoulder, he jerked at the gentle touch and looked up to see his mother standing beside him.

“We need to leave,” said Aurelia.

“I can’t—I can’t leave him!” cried Stryg in a broken voice.

“Blueberry is strong he’ll survive, that monster doesn’t care about him,” she pointed at the dragonbane.

Xyloth had already lost interest and gone back to tearing through the mansion. Many servants tried to escape, but several were caught underneath the collapsing rubble, while others were caught by Xyloth, inspected, and then tossed away, flying fifty paces into the air before crashing to their deaths.

“We can come back for Blueberry after that monster gets whatever it came for,” said Aurelia.

“No, I can’t let it have Maeve,” muttered Stryg.

“You can’t stop it. Look, its wounds are already healed!”

Stryg stared at Blueberry and clenched his fists, “I don’t care… I’m going to kill it.”

“You can’t even fight it. It’s somehow draining our mana. I can feel our chromatic colors being ripped out from our bodies. I think it’s worse because we’re prime mages.”

“Even still…”

“Even still what? Your magic can’t hurt it! Stop thinking emotionally and think about your survival!”

“You’re right,” he muttered and glanced at Krikolm, the scarlet blade still drinking the last of the black ichor. “My magic can’t hurt it. But this can.”

She scoffed. “You won’t be able to get close, the beast is too fast. You only managed the first time because it didn’t see you as a threat. If you go in with that sword again it’ll kill you.”

“If you can slow it down, even for a bit I can kill it.” He stood to his feet and took a deep breath. 

She furrowed her brow, “What are you—?”

Stryg closed his eyes and called forth Orange, Brown, and Yellow mana. The chromatic energies surged out from his heart and flowed through his body. A metallic bronze sheen wrapped over his muscles. Yellow outlines of protective scales formed across his blue skin. Orange mana dyed his veins a dark shade.

Aurelia’s eyes widened in disbelief. “The three enhancement magics, you’re using them all at once…? That’s impossible.”

Stryg panted and grimaced as the conflicting energies burned through his body. His muscles constricted and his bones began to crack.

“Stop, it’s killing you!” she said in a panic.

He shook his head, “I can take it.” 

“You’ve done this before?”

“For a few seconds,” he admitted.

Aurelia grabbed his shoulders, “My son, you need to stop this now before it’s too late.”

Stryg glanced at his friend, whimpering softly beside him. He placed a comforting hand on the wolf’s neck. “I’ll hold on, for as long as I have to.”

“Stryg…”

He glanced at Xyloth and gripped Krikolm tightly. “I am the Sword of our Blood, I am the Bane of our Enemies, be it Monster or Man, I shall end them all.”

Comments

Alric Good

Go stryg go you got this bro