Ian flicked the lever on the lightbow and it hummed to life. It would take some time before the heated bolt would be ready to fire. He’d need to make the shot count. Tyvno held the girl, but the dark figure held the swamp hostage with its vile corruption. Ian needed to make a choice, one that—

A violent tug ripped the lightbow from his grasp. He hadn’t anticipated the root’s ability to so deftly sneak up from behind. The weapon was tossed to clatter upon a muddy mound adjacent to the campsite. The crocodilian leapt for it but was caught mid-air by an eruption of vines and roots. They squeezed him to the point of his bones aching. He strained against their combined strength, but they only grew tighter the more he resisted.

Ian teleported out of the trap and appeared directly before the dark figure of Unkel Bo. A moment of shock was plastered on the bearded figure’s face. Ian swiped a claw across it to clean away the expression permanently. However, his sweeping hand made no contact, it simply passed through the face as if it were smoke, the image dissipating in a swirl of charcoal mist.

“I thought you would have learned by now that you cannot hurt me,” the dark figure said, standing beside the crocodilian.

Ian heaved himself at the dark figure’s new location, snapping his jaws around its midsection. Again, nothing. It simply stepped back out of range and reformed itself. It laughed maniacally at Ian’s failed attempts to destroy it. Clearly, Ian wasn’t thinking this through. How could he stop something that couldn’t even be touched?

A torrent of roots crashed into Ian from behind and pushed him into the mud and muck, he roared but, again, the more he resisted, the stronger the creaking wooden tendrils became. Tyvno joined in on the laughter from somewhere on his left side, walking toward the dark figure. He held out the unmoving body of Merai, still in her nightgown. More roots emerged from the heart of the swamp to cradle her before the dark figure while he inspected her sleeping face.

“I don’t know why she cared so much for this little girl,” it said.

Tyvno didn’t care to follow up, stating, “I’ve done as you’ve instructed. Now my end of the deal.”

The dark figure grimaced at the sound of Tyvno’s voice. Without looking up, the dark figure replied, “And what use would you be for me? I’m starting to think maybe I was wrong about creating any of you to begin with.”

Tyvno snarled. “I’ll kill him for you.”

The dark figure followed Tyvno’s gesture toward the crocodilian.

“And why would I need you for that?”

“Because you’re clearly struggling to do it yourself since he’s still alive. What is it? Guilt? Why haven’t you speared him through already?”

The dark figure peered down its nose at the captured crocodilian. It seemed to consider the words of Tyvno very carefully, as if it hadn’t considered its own motives before that moment.

“Alright then, if you can rid me of him completely, I shall grant you the power you desire.”

“No,” Tyvno barked. “If you give it to me now, I will extinguish all of Yonledo’s foul inhabitants, even the ones you cannot reach.”

“Quite the demanding creature, I see. Fine. But if you fail, I will devour your soul for all of eternity.”

The dark figure raised a hand toward Tyvno’s smirking mouth. The fingers evaporated into a fine black mist that floated up and into his flaring nostrils. Tyvno choked, grasping at his throat with both hands. He stumbled back and fell down to his knees.

The roots overtop Ian peeled back and he was allowed to stand. His muscles ached from the pressure he’d endured. He watched in horror as the half crocodile man beside him grew spikes from his back to form a strange, fleshy fin. The tail regrew, the fin and spikes spanning the entirety of the fresh appendage. Tyvno’s claws and teeth grew longer. The former scribe’s head widened into a misshapen oval snout unlike the crocodilian's elongated version. He remained short, however, his muscular bulk boxy and thick.

“Hideous,” the dark figure announced after a short pause. “But you’ll have to do. Show me what you’re capable of, child.”

Ian wasn’t prepared for what came next. The reptilian Tyvno opened his mouth wide and launched a large tongue that stretched the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Ian teleported a few feet to the right just in time to dodge the slimy organ. He figured the tongue would snap back into Tyvno’s mouth, but it remained extended and he swept it horizontally over the campsite, breaking through, and toppling over, any objects standing taller than three feet. Ian jumped over the tongue as it slapped into the side of the formation. The dark figure glared at Tyvno.

Retracting his tongue, Tyvno roared and charged forward. Ian braced himself and met the barreling Tyvno with heels dug into the mud for support. Tyvno’s spiked shoulder slammed into Ian’s stomach and shot pain out through his limbs, but he held firm. Sliding several feet back, Ian managed to halt the progress of the smaller reptile. Ian, easily a head taller, clamped his long jaws down into the jutting spine of his enemy. Tyvno grunted in pain. Ian lifted the heavy foe using his muscular upper body and tossed him into the air. Ian teleported above him and, using his entire weight, dropped down on top of Tyvno to slam him into the ground with his powerful legs.

Ian climbed down from his enemy and could see that broken roots had impaled Tyvno from below the mud’s surface. All of the sudden Ian felt that he’d gotten his payback after what Tyvno had done to him not too long ago. Then, the broad-shouldered beast began to move once more. Tyvno stood, his injuries healing almost immediately just as Ian’s had. That wasn’t good. He’d likely have to kill him if he wanted to end this for good.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Tyvno lurched forward in an attempt to grab him in a huge hug. Ian teleported away to the other end of the campsite. But there it was: the tongue. It wrapped around Ian’s entire upper body, pinning his arms at his sides. The mucus oozed down him like heated wax. Tyvno had somehow anticipated Ian’s strategy and used it against him. The strength of the tongue was so incredible it made it hard to breathe. Ian went to tap into his Energy in order to teleport out of this disgusting chokehold but found himself suddenly drained. There was no Energy left to tap into. The creature’s tongue must have eradicated his reserves somehow.

The dark figure laughed and then bellowed, “Oops. Your little Light has been snuffed out. What will you do now without your precious power?”

Good question, Ian thought as he was lifted from the ground and slammed back down face first.

Tamerond’s chest grew tight. He wasn’t sure why his memories had faded from him, or why they’d decided to come back. Ever since arriving in this wretched swamp, he’d lost sight of his true goal: ending the ones that still threatened his station, the ones that had facilitated the bombing of Blokravn and ruined his life thereafter. One was dead, the other stood right in front of him.

“I wonder where he went? Doesn’t look like we should follow, given that the swamp seems about ready to rip us apart. Lights, what’s happening?” Richta said aloud, staring at the grotesque, moving tree line. “I wonder what’s in that cabin over there. Wait a second. This is… the river that Ian had spoken about that night with the mayor. That must be the hunter’s old home. Come on Tamerond. Let’s go have a look.”

The deputy commander didn’t move from his position. He gripped the knife tighter in his gauntleted hand. Richta was no longer armored. This was his chance. When Richta turned, he hid the blade behind his back slightly.

“You’re not able to walk due to your injuries are you?” Richta asked.

Tamerond shook his head.

Richta sighed. “Almighty above, what am I doing?” he mumbled to himself as he walked over to assist Tamerond.

Tamerond Blake readied the knife for the perfect moment to strike.

It was true that the mangrove spirit had vanished from the swamp when Elek had attacked her, but she hadn’t been killed. Not in the way that a human can be killed. Her power had merely been allocated to another place, a place she’d be safe, a welcoming embrace she’d fostered ever since the arrival of the humans, and the inkling of Light she’d felt radiating from them.

Ian’s Energy was the brightest among them by far, his arrival had accelerated Elek’s aggressive takeover. Although, the mangrove spirit wasn’t frightened. She’d prepared for this eventuality ever since the first contact with the opposing side had been made. It was inevitable, as her kind used to preach when the world of Havek had been under the rule of Light for millennia. Where there was Light, Darkness would be cast. Where there was life, death awaited.

The other two special humans were the one-eyed man and his daughter. The man, Richta, wasn’t of particular interest to the mangrove spirit despite his strange ability. He seemed a good man, but his past was filled with deceit and despair. The spirit didn’t trust the nature of his Energy which could just as easily slip to the other side. His daughter, however, was pure. Her tiny glimmer shone steadily even though it had yet to be fully-realized.

The mangrove spirit recognized that glimmer, she had been that glimmer once before many, many eons ago. So when she’d reached out to communicate with the girl, she was surprised to find a deep well, no, a vast ocean of power hidden beneath the surface, a power that the mangrove spirit herself could only dream of possessing: the ability to control one’s memories.

That power was far too tempting to leave untapped, and she’d tried to adapt it for her own leverage against Elek and his spreading influence on the life in the swamp, but it only seemed to make matters worse for the humans, especially the young girl. The mangrove spirit had opened up a floodgate that she could no longer stop. Yet, with Merai–and subsequently the mangrove spirit herself–in the clutches of Elek, there was no need to bar that excess Energy from escaping the young girl.

The mangrove spirit decided it was time to show the world what true Light really looked like.

Ian Merstellar landed face first into the mud for the third time in a row and was starting to wonder if it would hurt more or less if it continued on in this fashion. Maybe eventually he’d just lose all feeling and be numb to the next blow entirely. Although, that was unlikely. What made matters worse was that without access to his Energy, the wounds no longer healed. Several lacerations had opened up along his snout, and his right eye was bloodshot. He’d even lost a few teeth from that last impact.

“What is this? No, no, no, no, no. You’re supposed to be dead!”

Ian was lifted to dangle aloft in mid-air as Tyvno cocked his head to see what the fuss was about. The dark figure was stumbling backward to lean against the large formation behind it, the formation that beat in a slow, methodical rhythm, the tendrils of Darkness growing further outward with each beat. Floating before it was a bright light, shimmering like a star. The light hovered higher and nearly blinded Ian. It took him only a few moments to realize that it wasn’t a light, but a glowing Merai as she ascended to look down on the dark figure.

“You defiler of life, you know not the truth of power,” Merai said, yet it wasn’t Merai’s voice, it was someone else speaking from within her. “Power doesn’t grow because you’ve gained dominion over the world, power grows when you’ve set the world free.”

A wave of bluish white Energy pulsed out in every direction from Merai. The wind stopped blowing, the rain stopped falling, the swamp ceased to make a sound. As the wall of light moved past Ian, he felt cold and naked. The tongue loosened its grip and dropped him to the ground with a smack. Tyvno collapsed to his knees and convulsed in the fetal position as his form shrunk and withered. Ian, too, felt weak. He was powerless to stop the transformation from taking place. The crocodilian was no more as he reverted back to his human self. The Darkness was seeping from him like steam rising from a pot of boiling water.

Merai sent out another powerful shockwave, this time reducing the dark figure to a less-defined form. Its inky visage no longer resembled that of the departed Unkel Bo, but reminded Ian of a demon he’d seen in a book once as a child. A book he hadn’t been able to read, yet that hadn’t kept him from memorizing those inked images. The demon looked terrified, beholden only to the great white light blazing above.

“Where did you get this power? Was it hiding within the girl this whole time?” the demon growled.

Ian noticed movement along the mound. It was the most recent of the growing roots reorienting to face Merai’s elevated position. They were going to strike her from behind, much like he’d done to the mangrove spirit before. The demon wasn’t looking for a true answer, he was stalling. Ian wouldn’t let it win, not like last time. He realized that he could speak again, but his throat felt dry and closed. He coughed, phlegm breaking apart as he forced out sound for what felt like the first time in his life.

“Merai,” he croaked. She didn’t hear him as she was still speaking. He had to be louder.

“You still don’t understand, do you, Elek? We never own power, it is gifted to us to wield temporarily before being passed on to those worthy enough to carry it. All Light comes from one source. That source is–”

“Merai, look out!” Ian managed to yell.

Merai’s emerald gaze drifted around to land on Ian. He thrust a pointed finger and she noticed just in time for a sharp root to rip through her billowing nightgown, missing her but just barely.

Then all of the spiked roots shot up at her at once and Ian was powerless to stop it.