Eliaria looked up at the circle of priests standing over her with ceremonial daggers raised high above their heads. The high priest stood beside the altar, his eyes blazing with malice.

"For the Maker!" he bellowed.

Eliaria's heart hammered in her chest, she knew this was the end. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Tears welled in her eyes, and she fought valiantly against the urge to cry.

This was it. Her sacrifice would save her people, it was the only way.

She'd known her fate since she'd been chosen as Heartwarden. She loved serving the people of Zenith's Peak, and she would sacrifice herself willingly in order to save them. But as she laid there staring up at the priest's gleaming blades, she realized it didn't matter that she was willing, or that she was going to die anyway—she was terrified.

The high priest shouted again, his voice echoing through the cathedral, "Do it!"

Eliaria took a deep breath and as she did so, her gaze met the high priest's. Something was wrong. She saw in those eyes something different, something cold, calculating, and evil.

The fog lifted from her mind. It was like the Maker had spoken to her. She had a moment of divine clarity, and she knew that she needed to live, she still had work to do.

Father Rakanar had used her, he'd lied to her. Her very existence was nothing more than a tool to him. He didn't care about her or any of the others. The cycle would never end, the new Heartwarden was already chosen, she'd serve her term and then be discarded.

The Maker showed her the reality and futility of it all.

And so, instead of surrendering herself to death like the others, Eliaria screamed and kicked her feet in the air, like a child fighting to stay alive.

As the priests hurried to pin her legs down, she cried out again, "No!"

Just then, the great hall's thick double doors exploded open, debris flying in all directions. And like angels sent by the Maker himself, Bastion and Flint burst through the doorway. They rode atop a giant bison, covered in roots and leaves.

The creature roared and swung its branch-like horns, knocking aside several of the guards. It charged into the hall, trampling them under its hooves.

"Kill her!" the high priest shouted, his voice dripping with venom.

Eliaria screamed as seven daggers descended towards her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the agony to begin.

Then suddenly, she heard the sharp crack of daggers hitting stone, and she opened her eyes to see a shimmering shield of air between her body and the blades. The daggers bounced off harmlessly, some chipping away at the barrier, but none touching her skin.

"Bastion!" she yelled, relief flooding her.

Bastion raised his hand and a barrage of green orbs flew from his palm, striking the seven priests. Each orb exploded in a cloud of poison, sending bodies crashing to the stone floor. Priests screamed as toxic gas filled their lungs, and they clawed at their throats in agony.

Flint moved between the remaining guards like a whirlwind. His quarterstaff, spinning and sending men flying across the room.

They'd come back for her, the Maker had sent them.

The great bison continued its rampage, smashing into statues, and tearing down tapestries. It ran in circles around the hall, roaring as it went.

Bastion leapt off the beast, landing in front of Eliaria, his dagger swung overhead, cutting her bonds and freeing her hands.

"I hope we aren't interrupting whatever the hell this is?" he said, his eyes searching hers.

Eliaria shook her head just a fraction.

"Good," he replied, and a smile touched his lips, "This would have been awkward otherwise."

Eliaria snatched up the spell cards she’d placed on the altar and reached out a hand to Bastion.

He took her by the arm and pulled her up onto the back of the bison.

"I thought I could do it," she whispered, holding tight to Bastion's tunic, her heart still pounding in her chest.

"Do what?" Bastion asked.

"Die," she whispered.

Bastion turned to look back at her, his expression serious, "Today is not a good day to die, we haven't had a chance to get to know each other yet."

She smiled and nodded, and then her eyes widened.

Through the dust and smoke, she saw the high priest getting to his feet, his face twisted in fury. He raised his staff, pointing it at them.

"Behind you!" Eliaria shouted as the high priest hurled a bolt of black energy at them.

Stolen novel; please report.

At the last moment, just before it struck her, Bastion pulled her aside. The bolt flew past her, missing her by a hair's breadth, and struck Bastion in the chest.

"Ah!" he gasped, as the bolt ripped into him, teleporting him across the room.

"No!" Eliaria yelled, "Bastion!"

He crashed into the wall behind the altar and crumpled to the ground.

Flint's staff whirled, a blur of movement, as he fought off the remaining guards that were trying to reach the high priest.

"You disappoint me, Heartwarden," Father Rakanar said, as he raised his staff high above his head. "I thought you'd have the courage and conviction to complete the ritual."

He stepped towards her, holding his staff level at her.

"In the end, you'll still be dead," he said, "but now there is no eternity in the blessed arms of the Maker for you. You’ll be slaughtered like an animal and suffer the fate of a non-believer."

Anger flared inside of her at his words, and she felt her hands begin to tremble.

"No!" she shouted, "You don't know anything!"

She reached out and grabbed hold of an incense burner sitting on the altar. It burnt her hands, but she hardly noticed.

"I am the Heartwarden, and you will not stop me from completing my duty!" she screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

With all her might, she hurled the ceramic burner at the high priest, her heart hammering in her chest, her mind numb.

The burner struck the priest in the side and shattered against his robes. A stream of burning oil rained down on top of him, and he screamed as the oil caught fire instantly, spreading quickly across his robe and hair.

She stared in horror at the priest rolling on the ground, his screams shrill, almost demonic, as he tried to bat at the flames.

Bastion was at her side, his face covered in blood, "Are you hurt?" he asked.

She realized then that she was crying, tears running freely down her cheeks. She shook her head numbly.

"We need to go," he said, taking hold of her hand.

***

Flint watched Bastion and Eliaria flee the burning building on the back of the bison. He was glad that they were safe, and that the ritual hadn't gone ahead.

He would catch up with them later. But for now he still had work to do.

He turned his attention back to the high priest and tossed a cloak over the zorin, snuffing the flames.

"Help... me..." the man whimpered, his horn charred, his face blistered, and the smell of burnt hair filling the air.

Flint bent down and picked up the priest's staff, examining the carvings and runes along its length.

"So how about we make a deal?" Flint said, spinning the staff in his hands.

"Curse you all," the priest choked, his voice a raspy whisper.

Flint kicked him in the stomach, sending him sprawling across the floor. The priest landed on his back and stayed there, gasping for breath.

"Oh, come on," Flint muttered, "don't play hard to get, you know what I want?"

Blood ran from the high priest's nose, "You want my spell cards?" he wheezed, "I'll die before I give them to you."

Flint leaned over, pressing the tip of his staff onto Father Rakanar's throat, "Don't worry, priest, I'm not going to kill you."

The high priest began to thrash beneath Flint's grip, but there was little strength left in his body.

Flint pressed harder on the priest's neck, "No," he continued, "In the end you are going to beg me for death."

***

Blood ran down my side, dripping onto the Rootbound Bison's fur. He was slowing down, we were both tired, but I could hear the sounds of pursuit gaining on us.

We were running out of time.

Eliaria held onto me tight, one hand around my waist, the other holding on to my arm. I looked behind me and saw the great hall on fire, with no sign of Flint, anywhere.

"Where's your friend!" Eliaria shouted over the beast's rumbling snorts.

I shook my head, "Don't worry about him," I said. "He'll meet us at the gate."

"But—"

"Just trust me," I said, "if he says he'll be there, then that's exactly where he'll be."

She nodded.

The bison's ribs creaked under our combined weight as I urged it forward, looking back every few seconds, searching for any sign of pursuit.

"We're almost there," I said, feeling energized by the possibility of getting out alive.

The bison, sensing my desperation, began to run faster as the gates came into sight.

A row of guards, stationed atop the gatehouse, shouted when they saw us. When they realized we weren't stopping, they leveled crossbows, taking aim at us.

"They're going to shoot..." Eliaria panted as she pulled herself tighter against me.

The thwacking sound of crossbows being fired resounded in the air, and silver arrows arched towards us.

I raised my hand and cast [Sky Shield] ahead of us and watched the arrows shatter harmlessly against the shield.

The spell dissipated as we passed through it, and then my heart skipped a beat as I saw the gates being lowered, and the guards pouring out after us.

"We aren't going to make it in time!" Eliaira shouted.

I swallowed hard, "Where the hell are you, Flint?" I whispered.

Another volley of bolts flew our way, and this time I couldn't protect us.

Pain lanced through my shoulder, and the bison cried out as arrows pierced its flank and it stumbled.

My hand went to my shoulder, and I felt warm blood run between my fingers.

I glanced back again, the mounted guards were closing in, they were almost upon us.

I raised a shaky hand, but instead of aiming at the horsemen, I aimed [Toxic Barrage] at the ground in front of them.

The spell launched from my fingertips, exploding in a cloud of smoke, and a wave of poison gas swept across the area.

Horses reared back, and men screamed as their lungs burned. Some of them fell off their horses, choking and writhing in pain.

And then it happened, there was a flash of light and the two guards stationed at the gates suddenly vanished.

I heard a loud thunk and a metallic screech as the heavy gates stopped their descent.

My head swum and the ground swirled beneath me. I’d lost too much blood.

Through blurred vision, I thought I saw a man standing on a rocky outcrop above the temple.

I clung to the bison's fur as I felt myself losing consciousness. My body went limp, and Eliaria grabbed hold of me, keeping me from falling.

"We are almost there," she breathed into my ear.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came.

Just as I was about to pop an [Etherix] my world went black and the bison barreled through the gates and out into the darkness beyond.

***