Chapter 514: The Call (Patreon)

Stryg 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.”

Orange, Yellow, and Brown chromatic energies flowed through his body in a tenuous synchrony. He ran at the dragonbane tearing through the Mora mansion. Chunks of brick walls and broken wooden beams fell from the sky as Xyloth tossed the wreckage over his back.

With deft steps, Stryg danced around the falling ruins and closed the gap. Xyloth glanced at him and swatted him with a backhand. Stryg clenched his teeth tight and ducked underneath and dashed in close. Krikolm lashed out in a wide red arc and sliced the dragonbane’s ankle. Xyloth grunted in surprise and fell to one knee. In one quick swoop, he jabbed his fist down at the small blue creature.

Stryg swirled to the side and barely dodged the massive fist as it bore a small crate into the ground. Xyloth’s widened in surprise. Stryg couldn’t help but grin in triumph. The beast was absurdly fast, but with the tri-spell enhancements, he could hold his own.

His pointed floppy ears twitched at a slight whir in the air. Stryg snapped his eyes up and saw the barbed tail coming down at him. It was too close, he couldn’t dodge it.

A spear of pure lighting struck the tail and it recoiled in pain. “Focus!” Aurelia yelled.

“R-Right!” Stryg yelled and jumped back a few steps. He glanced at the charred skin on Xyloth’s tail. She actually hurt it…!

His magic wasn’t powerful enough to pierce its flesh, but his mother was an Ebon Lord, her magic had. The small but vital discovery gave him hope.

As if to deny him that hope, Xyloth growled and his flesh knit itself back together in front of their very eyes.

Stryg flourished Krikolm and fell into a Gale stance. “Aim for its eyes!”

~~~

Pain reverberated through Loh’s body. Her limbs felt like broken branches, pushed too far until they snapped. She could hardly hear anything, save for a sharp ringing in her ears. The cold rain stung her open wounds in a pitter-patter of pain.

Loh opened her eyes blearily and sat up with a grimace. Seneschal Lily and the Noir guards were strewn across the street. The shockwave had knocked them all down in the blink of an eye. 

It’s my fault…

She had noticed the black spear Marek carried, but she hadn’t gotten a good look at it in the rain. The damn thing was made of orichalcum, just like Unalla’s Votum.

A sharp yelp and then a choked cry caught Loh’s attention. Marek stood over one of her guards, his spear impaled on the young drow’s chest. Marek dug the spear in a little deeper with a wild look in his eyes. The drow stiffened with a groan and suddenly went limp as blood pooled underneath him.

“One more… that’s one more…” Marek ripped the spear out of the corpse and moved to another guard when his eyes met Loh’s. He stopped and raised an eyebrow. “You’re still alive. Good. I wanted to thank you.”

Loh stood up but her left leg buckled underneath her. A sharp pain shot up from her shin all the way up her spine. She cursed under her breath and tried her best not to cry out. Her grandfather had warned her that even with the healing spell, she needed to rest if her leg was to recover.

Not now, she thought. Not yet!

“You know,” Marek said casually as he ran his fingers across the orichalcum spear. “It feels like fire is boring into my veins every time I pick it up. I’d say you get used to it, but I can hardly hold it for more than a few minutes at a time.” He scoffed, “Who carries a weapon they can’t even wield? I didn’t think I needed a faulty weapon like this. If it wasn’t for Dawn I would have left it behind. But she always insisted I carry the spear around; practice with it, train to wield it, that sort of thing.”

He chuckled to himself, “I didn’t think it would work. Until I came into your city. Ever since then, I’ve been feeling the spear begin to stir. Small bursts of power here and there. And then you came, with that look of anger in your eyes. I know it well, I carry that same anger within myself, the anger of loss and hatred, not just at the one who took it all from you, but hatred towards yourself. I think it's because of you, that the spear has truly begun to awaken from its eon-long slumber.”

He closed his eyes and held the spar shaft to his ear, “It’s whispering to me now. I can almost hear its name, but first, it wants, no, it yearns for…” He opened his blue eyes and smiled, “Death.”

“You’re insane,” she spat.

“Maybe. I’ve lost everything, perhaps my sanity as well.”

Orange mana ignited in Loh’s hand and she hurled a ball of fire at him. He casually swatted it away with a Yellow gust of wind. “I’ve already recovered from your drain spell. Whereas it seems you’ve lost whatever little strength left in that broken body of yours.”

Loh tried to stand up once more, but she just fell over into a puddle of water.

“Still trying? Perhaps I’m not the only one who's lost their sanity,” Marek shook his head in disdain and closed in on her.

~~~

The ground shook as Xyloth rushed at Stryg. He weaved around the dragonbane’s attacks, narrowly avoiding each strike. Searing flames rained down from the sky in a torrent of orange light and splashed over the monster’s face. The heat scorched Xyloth’s eyes and he roared in pain.

“Now!” Aurelia yelled.

Stryg silently thanked her and leaped at Xyloth, Krikolm held high. The dragonbane fell on all fours and lashed his tail out in a wide circle, thrashing all about. Stryg tried to dodge in midair, but the tail caught his leg. The sheer force sent him crashing into the ground like a fly under a giant’s swing. His Yellow protective scales shattered on impact. Stryg coughed and sucked in a deep painful breath.

“No! Leave them be!” Maeve shouted desperately.

Stryg flinched at her voice. He turned and saw the vampiress standing in the manor’s doorway. She was leaning heavily on the wall and her breath was short. Her pale blonde hair was drenched with sweat and her skin was sickly pale. The True Red magic had taken its toll on her body.

And still, Maeve stood tall, her scarlet eyes unwavering. “Your Master sent you here for me, right!? Then leave them be! I’m here.”

Xyloth’s eyes snapped open, his oily-black eyes healed. He glanced at the vampiress in recognition and bared his fangs in a wide smile.

“Take me and go,” she said.

“Maeve, no…” Stryg called out weakly. The tri-enhancements were falling apart and the dragonbane’s aura was causing him to feel sick.

Vines as thick as thick as tree trunks lurched out from the cobblestone and latched onto Xyloth. He roared and tore at them. Dozens of shadow tendrils swirled around him and held him back while the vines regrew as quickly as they withered away at his touch.

“Stryg, get her out of here!” yelled Aurelia, hands outstretched and shaking. “Stryg!”

He faintly registered her words. His eyes were drawn to the black mass pulsating between the dragonbane’s ribs. Stryg stood shakily and wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his hand. “I see it now, you bastard.”

With a snarl, Xyloth pulled against the magical restraints and raked his claws at Stryg. He whirled past the dragonbane’s hand and lunged forward with Krikolm. The scarlet blade slid through two ribs and sank deep into the black heart. The sword eagerly drank the black ichor and ripped apart the organ from within.

Xyloth shrieked a thundering screeching sound and Stryg yanked the sword out as they both fell back. The last of the spell weaves broke and Stryg collapsed with an exhausted gasp.

Aurelia rushed to his side. “Stryg, are you alright!?” she asked desperately.

“I’m… fine,” he grinned with a wince.

Aurelia sighed in relief, then covered her hand in protective scales and slapped him across the face. “What were you thinking!? I told you to get out of here!”

Stryg rubbed his cheek. “I’m sorry, but I got it. I got its heart.”

“...HEART…” a deep voice rumbled. Xyloth lurched back up. Black ichor oozed from the wound between his ribs. From the center and right of his chest, beneath the translucent flesh, two black masses pulsated more heavily at the loss of their third.

A cold shiver ran down Stryg’s back. “It has three hearts…!?”

The wound sealed itself and the last heart began to beat steadily. Xyloth snarled and opened his wings wide. He opened his jaw wide and his ribs swelled. 

Stryg, Maeve, and Aurelia fell to their knees in a coughing fit. It felt as if the dragonbane’s aura had grown several times in intensity. The chromatic mana within them was leached out like an icy hand ripping through their chests.

White pinpricks of light shone in the depths of the dragonbane’s eyes. White and black flames ignited in the back of his throat. The dragonbane turned his head to Stryg and breathed in deeply.

Aurelia staggered to her feet and stood in front of her son. Protective scales wrapped around her skin. Her fingers burned red sigils into the air. She threw her hands forward as if holding back a storm and channeled with all her might. Several layers of wards appeared before her. Slabs of compressed stone shot up from the ground. A web of vines surged to life around them in a dense shield.

Xyloth pulled his head back and spewed scorching flames from the void and the world went up in an inferno of black and white fire.

~~~

Stryg awoke to the noise of bricks collapsing and the shattering of lumber. Xyloth was rummaging through the wreckage of the Mora estate, searching for Maeve. He hadn’t aimed the void flames at her, but the destructive energies had destroyed the manor and its walls had collapsed on top of everyone still inside.

Stryg looked around for Krikolm. The edge of the scarlet sword was poking out from a slab of broken wall. He glanced about, searching for Maeve. He spotted Aurelia lying a few paces behind him. Dark red blood seeped from beneath her shattered breastplate.

A wordless choking noise escaped his mouth. He stumbled over to her on his hands and knees. He gripped the edges of the breastplate and tore it off. A deep bloody gash ran from her ribs all the way down her waist.

“No, no, no!” Stryg cried out. He tried to channel a healing spell, but there was no white mana left in his veins. He thought desperately for any spell that might help. 

Searing the wound perhaps?

He searched for Orange, but there was none left within him. He searched anxiously for any of the chromatic colors. They were all drained.

“No,” he cried softly and placed his hands over the wound, but it was too large. The warm forest-green skin around the gash had lost all color and the veins had turned sickly dark. This wasn’t a cut, nor a burn, Stryg realized in despair. It was some sort of wound caused by the exposure of the void energies.

Aurelia opened her eyes faintly. “Stryg…” she whispered.

He looked at her, his eyes full of tears. “Mom! It’s going to be okay. I’m not—I’m not going to let you…” He grit his teeth and tried to channel anything, any color that might answer. He reached out to the air, trying to draw mana into himself, but the dragonbane had absorbed all the mana in the area.

Stryg noticed the flower cloak on his shoulders. Blossom wasn’t made from chromatic energies, but elemental life magic weaved by the fairies of Glimmer Grove. 

Perhaps the elemental energy had proven resilient against the dragonbane? He tore off Blossom and wrapped it around his mother. “Please, work, please,” he pleaded with a whisper.

Blood soaked into the white petals but he did not sense any magic. “Why isn’t it working? Why isn’t it working!?”

“Stryg…”

“Mom, I’m right here,” he grabbed her hand. “Stay with me.”

“Our village… underneath the planks… in my room… Find the book…”

Stryg remembered the owl’s omen and the words Aurelia had imparted to him if something were to happen. He shook his head, “No. No, you’re not going to die!” He tried to smile bravely, “You’re not dying, I won’t let you.”

Aurelia placed her trembling hand over his cheek and smiled, “My beautiful son… it’s going to be okay… you are going to be okay.”

“Mom,” he swallowed hard and leaned his head on her palm.

“You need to run now… live.”

He smiled weakly, “I can’t… I can’t live without you.”

“Stryg…”

“Mom?” His smile broke, “Mom…? Mom!?” He placed his ear over her chest and listened closely for a pulse. Tears welled up in his eyes and his heart clenched tightly. “You can’t… You can’t…”

Stryg broke down in tears and sobbed over his mother’s body, his cries muffled by the rain and wind. The droplets of water fell unceasingly, until a few slowed to a trembling halt and began to swirl around him silently.

~~~

Fox fire and whirlwinds of frost tore through the Commoner District’s streets as two goddesses clashed against one another. 

Scorch marks and burnt fur riddled Lunae’s body. Dark purple blood seeped from a few of the wounds, but bright red fox blood stained her fangs.

Claw marks covered Lin Lu’s white fur. She limped from a deep bite on her hind leg. “Even without the moon, you’re still a threat,” Lin Lu muttered with a slight smile to her lips.

Lunae said nothing and only growled.

The two goddesses circled one another, searching for an opening, when the rain all around them stopped falling and began to shake, before falling upwards. Their purple and scarlet blood rose in turn and followed into the night sky.

Lin Lu frowned. “What is this?”

Lunae’s eyes widened. “Oh no…”

~~~

Marek kicked Loh in the gut and sneered as she fell back gasping for breath. He placed the point of the spear over her back. “What was that you said? When you got in my way? You are just like me? Because we’re both dead.”

Loh glared up at him with a swollen eye and spat blood at his feet.

Marek smiled, “I suppose you were half right.” He raised the spear with both hands and aimed at her neck, then paused. The rain droplets on his arms were… rising?

~~~

Holo sat hidden in an abandoned home in the Trade District. Her wounds were taking much longer to heal. Caligo had maimed her over and over until even her body was struggling to regenerate. Kaleidrog’s appearance had given her a chance to escape. 

She hoped the dragon lord would buy her enough time to heal herself and aid in the fight. 

The dust on the windowsill began to shake, then float towards the window. Holo stared at the sight. “It can’t be…”

She rushed outside. All around her, the rain was being pulled towards an unknown epicenter.

Her face paled in fear and she began to quiver uncontrollably. “No, no…! He can’t be here! Why is he here!?” She stopped and furrowed her brow, “Unless… It isn’t…?” Her head snapped up. “Stryg!?” 

Orange mana filled her veins and she Flickered towards the epicenter.

~~~

Melantha dashed across the rooftops at breakneck speeds. It took all of Unalla’s strength to hold on and not be torn off by the winds. The rain slammed into her face and made it hard to breathe, then it suddenly stopped. Melantha slowed down and landed on the street.

“What’s going on?” Unalla asked.

Melantha narrowed her eyes and stared at the rising rain. “You need to go.” She lowered Unalla off her back.

“I don’t understand. What’s happening? Are you doing this? Is it some kind of torrent spell?”

Melantha raised her hand, palm open, and watched as the water droplets floated off her fingertips, “No. This is no spell. It’s gravity.” She curled her fingers into a fist. “Get as far away from the city as you can.”

“Why?”

“It’s not safe anymore.”

“Not safe?” Unalla laughed incredulously, “When was it ever safe?”

“I can’t protect you from this. Once it’s begun, nothing can.”

Unalla’s smile fell at her words. “Melantha…”

“You need to run away.” She glanced at the direction the rain was flowing and dashed towards it in a burst of speed.

~~~

Rain swirled around the remnants of the Mora estate and began to undulate in a rhythmic pulse. Stryg at its center, kneeling next to his mother’s body. He leaned over her, his head bowed, his hands wrapped around hers.

Xyloth pulled a large slab of brick off the manor’s wreckage and found Maeve underneath. A shard of wood was lodged into her calf. She looked up at the monster and cried out in fear.

Her voice echoed in the air. Stryg heard it as if it was a distant memory, a dream. He didn’t move; only stared at his mother’s pale face.

This wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare.

Maeve tried to drag herself away from the wreckage. Xyloth leaned forward and picked her up. She screamed and thrashed in his grip, but his hand may have as well been steel bars.

Her screams seemed further away now, fading at the edge of the nightmare.

“MAV… MAEVE…” said Xyloth.

Stryg twitched at the voice. His head was still bowed, shoulders still slumped, but he slowly let go of his mother’s hand and breathed in softly, “…Heed my call… Svartna.”

~~~

Finally.

Svartna sang with metallic glee at its master’s call. The orichalcum spear surged with power and ripped out of Marek’s hand, sending him careening backwards.

The spear shot into the air and flew across the Villa District, ripping through buildings in a high-pitched whistling noise. Svartna tore past the Mora estate and lanced straight through Xyloth’s elbow. The dragonbane flinched back and dropped Maeve. He roared in pain and held his limp bleeding arm.

Svartna landed in the mud two paces in front of its master, standing tall and covered in black ichor.

Faint, cold light leaked from Stryg’s blue skin. He slowly stood up and opened his eyes. His slit pupils were narrow and the lilac irises had expanded, covering the sclera. His vision had fallen into a world of black shades and silver rippling outlines. Though there was only one he saw, one being who held his attention.

The dragonbane.

Stryg reached out and seized Svartna.