As I wasn’t in my best shape, and prolly in the worst position affinity-wise compared to Madriel, I jumped behind her and watched their confrontation.

The clashes of energy that were being emitted by the two completely overwhelmed my vision. The light that was purifying the darkness, and the inky abyss eating away at the brightness.

And, hell, now that Bastroll mentioned it, I felt a prickling sensation on my skin under her light. This was the first time I was under its effect directly, so it didn’t affect me earlier.

Still, it wasn’t that bad. If anything, it was merely the sensation if pins and needles. I could endure it for a spell.

Madriel pounced at Bastroll, her fists clad in light tearing away at the darkness. Her movements were fluid and fast, void of any unnecessary actions.

Bastroll, despite his appearance, was of a nimble sort. He easily avoided that punch and counterattacked with his own. His stance was similar to Madriel’s but the difference lay in their hands.

More precisely, Madriel’s was a closed fist for punching. Bastroll’s was a bit more unconventional. Instead of balling it up into a fist, his fingers were outstretched and pointed, much like a knife-hand strike.

Bastroll’s lunged forward, aiming at her neck. It was a viciousness impossible to imagine to be used against his own wife.

She managed to dodge just as it pierced through her skin. A trickle of blood flowed from the side of her neck, a slight distance away from her carotid. A lucky break, maybe, as that would have ended the fight at once.

She wiped the blood from her neck and looked at her fingers. A horrified expression on her face as she stared back at Bastroll’s figure. She bit her lip, and once more did the resolute eyes appear.

“Please, don’t make me look back at this bitterly.” She said in a whisper, a quiet appeal. Still, she knew better.

Madriel pushed herself forward and exchanged blows with Bastroll. Both of them in sync with each other. They weaved, they hewed, they punched, they dodged. Each of their movements flowing one after the other like a...

“A dance.”

I couldn’t help myself from speaking aloud. It was a beautiful ensemble of body movements tied at each other. They moved as if the world didn’t bother them. They moved only to each other’s rhythm.

A kick would follow a punch, a punch would follow a weave. A weave would follow a strike, and a strike would follow a throw.

I hung my head as I watched.

There was no way I could get inside there. I guess this was more of a fight between them, than it was between Bastroll and I.

How frustrating it was to only look on in the fight, not doing anything, only helplessly enamored by their movements.

I could bring about a curse against Bastroll, but I wasn’t quite confident yet that I could aim accurately when they moved so close and so fast to each other. It would be a miracle if I even hit Bastroll.

I struck the ground with my blunt-end of my spear and focused myself on their movements.

I wonder about her emotional state though... I hope she’s doing fine.

~ Madriel ~

It has been long. So, so long Bastroll. I had wanted to see you for so many blue moons, and yet here you are, still broken beyond repair.

I suppose I was lying to myself, hoping that the crystal imprisonment would bring about your clarity, to yourself to Bastroll the Juggernaut Mage. Not yourself as the Sleeping Lich. I had hoped, and I had prayed. I had researched, all the way till now.

I knew you were too far gone, Bastroll. But is it so bad for a wife to hope, to wait?

Bastroll came at me, there was a calm rage in his eyes, like water about to spill from a cup. He took one step forward, bent his back, twisted his body along with his feet, drawing an arc on the ground, and lunged forward.

It was a movement I taught to him. A happier time, it was.

His razor-sharp hand came at me and grazed the sides of my neck. Had I dodged later, or was less luckier, I would have already lost.

It is a sad thing, to see the ancestral elfin dance so thoroughly corrupted by hatred. However, what saddens me the most is the circumstances.

It is not the job of a wife to strike down her husband, but here I am.

Is it my just deserts? Probably. Had I only stopped him before, nothing of this scale would have happened. If it were a different time, a different world, I might not be with him now, but I’d have preserved more happy memories.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

I feel envious to a me that isn’t me, where she lived and laughed with Bastroll as if it were natural. To have treasured memories of our selves.

I bit my lip and looked beyond my thoughts.

Bastroll effortlessly exchanged blows with me. Each one of my moves fluidly countered. Similarly, all of his moves, I knew of.

Whether he knew it or not though, I was falling behind inch by inch. It was not the lack of skill, but rather the exhaustion of fighting the Dreviout earlier.

... I suppose it’s about time.

I’ve muddled my thoughts for far too long, and clashing with Bastroll head-on has given me enough of an idea of his current strength. It should be possible, no, it had to be possible. This was the only method I could think of that will return him to normal.

I jumped back, far and enough behind Sed, who was watching us intently. I looked at his back, relaxed yet focused.

“Sed! Cover me!” I shouted at him from behind and brought my palms together.

I heard the clashing of steel against hardened skin. Clang, clang, swish, slash. These sounds reverberated around the room.

He’s doing well against him, he might just do it.

I smiled and focused on my job.

There’s a reason why I’ve been so weak for the past few hundred years. The reason why I couldn’t work as an adventurer anymore, the reason why I had to leave that life behind.

Bastroll... I’ll be able to see you again. Not in this life, however, but maybe next time? You’ll have to wait for me... that’s your punishment.

With those sentiments in mind, I brought out the last of my powers. Strands of white light congregated at my palms. With each passing second, the heat pressing further, radiating outwards and to the entire room.

Intense white light bathed the area and I could no longer hear the sounds of battle, only stillness.

I closed my eyes and focused only on the task before me.

I grasped at the light with my fingers. As if I was rolling threads, I gathered up the white light and contained it. Little by little, I felt the radiant light inch closer to my palms, the heat rising by every second, even more than it was earlier.

This was it, the very thing I staked my life on.

I held the orb of energy within my grasp and looked head on to Bastroll. He stared at me, mouth agape. It seems he knew what I wanted to do and he almost immediately jumped back from his fight against Sed.

He brought about his malevolent energy and focused it around him, turning it from a curtain of energy into a shield that protected him from all sides.

He was struggling, that I was sure of.

Farewell, my love.

~ Sed ~

I exchanged blows with Bastroll for quite some time, and obviously, I was being pushed back.

I guess I should be happy that it wasn’t any worse.

I kept feeding the black spear with my black ‘anam’ that was released from my body, and it kept the fight slightly even. Every strike of my spear, another would sprout from the ground and it would break Bastroll’s flow.

Thanks to it, I’ve managed to hold him back.

I paced back when a spear jutted out from the ground between us, giving me quite some space. I used that chance to step to the left, one foot forward, and brought my spear to face against him. I let the shaft drag across my palm as it shot forward.

The spearhead clashed against his knife-hand and he was forced to jump back.

Now that I look at him, there was clear horror in his eyes, and he wasn’t even looking at me, rather, to the one behind me.

The incredible dark light that was being emitted by him suddenly retracted and he started to consolidate the energy into him, turning it into a cocoon of magical energy.

Before I knew it, a flash light streaked past me and towards Bastroll.

Like a flashbang, I could see nothing, I could hear nothing. What was in front of me was a white canvas.

What happened? I wanted to ask the person behind me, but before I could do so, the white light had already vanished as if it was a dream. What was left was the tattered Bastroll.

He, who was so easily dominating the fight, was dispatched outright by Madriel with one powerful blow.

He laid on the ground, grasping for breath. His body twitching. His body now looked even more emaciated than it already had, and there was a sudden smell of... death. It was hard to describe.

Was she really just orichalchum? Damn.

I looked to the person in question, a new light of admiration in my eyes.

She stood there, looking at Bastroll. Her eyes clouded with sadness, and her furrowed brows apparent. She slowly walked up to him and brought his hands with her across her chest.

Bastroll couldn’t move, and could only stare at her.

Tears streamed down from her features as she held his hand dearly.

I sigh. That’s to be expected, I suppose. I turned my back from the scene and walked out of the room. Whatever it is they wanted to do, to speak of, or to catch up, that was their business. I’ll leave it to them.

~ - ~

I sat at the cool floor, just beside the open door outside the sealed room. I had the black spear beside me should something arise from inside. I was close enough that I could hear their mumbling, but not close enough to discern their words.

I looked at the rotting carcass of the Dreviout, though now there was something else different from it. Unlike before, it’s body was now dissipating into a black smoke, very similar to the ‘anam’ that I was exuding before.

I immediately gripped at the black spear and knelt forward, ready to move at a moment’s notice as I watched its body trickle down to vapor.

Minutes past, and the body was no more.

I audibly relaxed and slumped back, my back resting on the stone cold wall.

Well, I guess that’s one indication that Bastroll is done for.

As I thought so, I heard footsteps behind me and I looked up to see Madriel, a little red in her eyes, walked out of the room. Likewise, she stared at me and gave a strained smile before slumping on the opposite end and huddled herself up with her knees.

Quiet sobbing filled the silent room.

At times like these... you don’t offer words. No amount of words can soothe the pain of losing one’s loved one. I know, because I’ve experienced it.

I stood from my seat and entered the sealed room.

Bastroll’s body was nowhere to be found, the room was as it was except for one thing. There, where his body should be, was now a large magical implement worked on with chalk. A magic circle, one that I was unaware of.

AdOn had ritual casting, where one could spend a long time and sufficient resources to cast a powerful spell. In most cases, these were powerful summons or powerful buffs. And, they also required the highest level mage to do so.

As an Occultist, I also had ritual casting, and I knew of it quite a bit if only for how useful it could be outside of combat.

What astounds me so is that the magic circle used for ritual casting was vastly different to those I knew. And, it was in a language alien to me.

Well, I’ll ask her about it later.

I guess that’s a mission complete, then? I hope the people on the surface are doing okay.