Chapter 32: Embers Of Hope

Lyanna gritted her teeth, a curse buried deep in her throat as the beast’s amorphous appendages lashed out once more, slamming into her with relentless force. The blows were like a drumbeat against her body, each strike heavier than the last. The sticky tendrils clung to her armor, dragging her closer to its oozing mass.

Ember, help me... she thought, desperation threading through her mind. Her legs burned with borrowed power as she channeled the fire spirit’s essence into her muscles. The runes along her twin blades ignited, casting flickering shadows across the battlefield. With a roar, she launched herself into the air, soaring higher than any human had a right to, and landed in a roll that sent dirt and uprooted grass spraying in her wake.

Her chest heaved as she regained her footing, her body aching in places she couldn’t name. The beast loomed before her, its shifting form undulating with a malevolent rhythm.

The creature lunged, an amorphous mass of seething darkness and glinting teeth, its bulk rippling with stolen magic. A massive limb swept toward her—a wall of grotesque, glistening flesh. Lyanna didn’t think, she just reacted, channeling Ember’s power into her legs. The sword’s runes blazed to life, propelling her skyward in an explosive leap.

The air screamed around her as she twisted mid-flight, slamming both blades into the creature’s undulating form. Black ichor sprayed like molten tar, sizzling as it hit the ground. She landed in a roll, ignoring the jolt of pain in her ribs. The Devourer shrieked, a mind-rending sound that reverberated through her skull, but she forced herself to her feet.

“You’re not taking me, not today,” she spat, wiping ichor from her cheek with the back of her hand.

The dance continued. Each strike of her blades carved deep, and yet it was never enough. The Devourer surged forward, its bulk quivering with stolen energy. Lyanna grimaced as she felt it—the pull of the beast’s feeding, the sickening way it drew from the battlefield around them. She thought of Katrina and Pyrope, her sisters, their laughter still echoing in her mind. If they were here, if they hadn’t been lost to the Father’s realm...

Her moment of distraction cost her.

A massive, block-like limb smashed into her side, the force of the blow throwing her across the battlefield. She hit the ground hard, pain lancing through her chest as ribs snapped like brittle twigs. She gasped for air, vision swimming, but there was no time to falter. The Devourer was already closing in, its shifting form oozing toward her like a tidal wave of despair.

Lyanna gritted her teeth and summoned Scarlet’s essence. The blade flared to life, its ruby glow pouring into her battered body. The pain receded—not gone, but dulled—and the grinding sensation in her ribs eased as the bone knit itself back together. She forced herself to her feet, shaky but upright.

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Alric. He was holding his own for now, his magic a cyclone of cutting winds and relentless strikes. But she could see it in his movements—the subtle slowing, the faltering edges of his storm. They were both running on fumes, and the Devourer was still too strong.

Her mind raced. Ten minutes. Ten grueling minutes, and they had only managed to shrink the creature to half its size. The soldiers below were faring better now that the monster’s numbers had dwindling. Every second felt like a lifetime, and Lyanna knew they couldn’t keep this up.

She tightened her grip on her blades, their hilts slick with sweat and ichor. You don’t get to stop. Not until it’s over. The thought was like a mantra, driving her forward as she charged the beast once more. Her duty was clear: hold its attention, take its hits, and buy them time.

But deep down, a whisper of doubt coiled in her mind. Scarlet and Ember’s essence were dangerously close to empty. Her body was a patchwork of wounds, her strength waning with every passing second. And the Devourer... it was learning.

Still, she fought.

The Devourer continued to lash at Lyanna, its grotesque appendages fluid yet impossibly strong. Her muscles screamed in protest as she dodged the first strike, only for a second limb to whip her side with bone-shattering force. Pain radiated through her ribs and shoulder, a hot, searing reminder that she couldn’t afford mistakes.

Scarlet, Ember, she cursed silently, the twin flames of her blades guttering low within her. Their essence had been her lifeline, but now they flickered like candles in a storm. She could feel the void closing in, the weariness gnawing at the edges of her focus. The runes along her weapons dimmed.

“Not yet,” she hissed, dragging a ragged breath into her lungs as she disengaged from the creature, stumbling over the torn ground. Each movement sent fire lancing through her side, but she gritted her teeth, channeling Scarlet’s fading power to knit the worst of the damage.

The battlefield stretched before her, chaos and ruin incarnate. The mages had turned their efforts toward the Devourer, hurling fireballs and jagged spears of ice that exploded against its gelatinous form. Yet the creature only seemed to absorb the destruction, its wounds knitting faster than they could carve them.

Lyanna’s gaze snapped back to the Devourer, now fourth its original size but far more dangerous. Its attacks had grown calculated, precise. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was toying with them, savoring the inevitability of their defeat.

I can’t die here. The thought burned through her exhaustion like a flare. Not before this thing dies first.

The monster turned its shifting mass toward Alric, and Lyanna’s heart clenched. He was holding his own for now, his wind-blade slicing tendrils with precision. But the storm surrounding him was faltering, the edges fraying as his strength waned.

No. Not him. Not yet.

Her legs moved before her mind could catch up. She surged forward, slamming into the Devourer’s side with a desperate, reckless fury. Her blades flashed, carving deep into the pulsing, translucent mass, and ichor sprayed like a blackened tide. The runes on Ember flickered brighter for an instant as she poured the last dregs of the blade’s essence into her strikes.

“You don’t get him,” she snarled, teeth bared as the monster screeched, its many mouths opening in a discordant wail. It lashed out, and Lyanna barely had time to raise her sword before a massive appendage smashed into her, throwing her to the ground. Her head struck the dirt, and stars exploded in her vision.

“Lyanna!” Alric’s voice cut through the din, but she couldn’t respond. Blood filled her mouth as she spat and forced herself to her knees, every breath a struggle. The Devourer loomed over her, its shadow stretching impossibly far as it prepared to strike.

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The battlefield roared with chaos as Lyanna dragged herself upright. Every nerve in her body screamed to stop, to give in, but her will burned brighter than the pain. She spat a mouthful of blood and forced her legs to move, weaving through the monster’s whipping tendrils. Each strike of her blades cut deep but did little to halt the Devourer’s relentless advance. It was shrinking, yes, but at a terrible cost. Its core was still buried beneath layers of writhing, regenerating flesh, and the mages’ spells seemed only to fuel its twisted evolution.

The beast let out another mind-rending screech as it reared back, a glob of its oozing mass splitting off with a grotesque slurp. The smaller blob hit the ground with a sickening thud, immediately forming into a smaller, faster version of itself. Lyanna cursed under her breath as the new creature darted toward the mages, its appendages lashing out with lethal precision.

“Focus fire on the split!” she screamed, her voice raw. A handful of mages turned their attention to the smaller blob, their spells hammering it with relentless force. The creature shrieked, its form flickering, but it continued its charge, undeterred.

This wasn’t working. They needed more firepower—dragon fire. Kael and Titanis were supposed to be their trump card, but where were they? Lyanna’s heart clenched with a mix of panic and fury.

“Kael!” she bellowed, her voice cutting through the cacophony. “Titanis, we need you now!”

No answer came.

A tendril lashed toward her, and she barely managed to twist out of its path. The momentum carried her to a stumble, and she planted her blades into the ground to steady herself. Gritting her teeth, she scanned the battlefield, searching for any sign of Kael or his mechanical dragon. Her gaze swept past the soldiers and mages, past the writhing forms of the Devourer’s spawn, to the ridge overlooking the field.

There they were—or at least, there Kael was. Standing atop the ridge, his body silhouetted against the sky, Titanis crouched low beside him, the dragon’s metal body shimmering faintly in the light. But something was wrong. Kael wasn’t commanding Titanis to rain fire upon the battlefield. Instead, he had his crossbow raised, aimed directly at someone.

Lyanna squinted, her breath catching as she made out the figure of a mage, hands raised in surrender, standing a few paces from Kael. The realization hit her like a blow to the chest. What is he doing?

The next instant, the mage crumpled like a ragdoll, a steel shaft protruding from her skull. He lifeless body, tumbling down the ridge, bouncing over boulders and trees.

Fury surged through her, obliterating the exhaustion threatening to drag her down. “You bastard!” she roared, tearing herself away from the battle. “Alric, hold it off!” she shouted over her shoulder. “I’ll be back!”

Her legs burned as she pushed herself toward the ridge, dodging tendrils and leaping over debris. The closer she got, the more the rage built within her. Kael was supposed to be their ace, their savior. If he was wasting time with whatever petty grievance this was, Alric and the others would die for it.

As she reached the base of the ridge, she screamed again, her voice breaking. “Titanis, fire! Gods, Kael, we need you!” But neither Kael nor the dragon reacted. They couldn’t hear her over the din of the battlefield.

Lyanna scaled the ridge in a furious sprint, her vision narrowing to the pair standing above. Her lungs burned, and every step felt like it would be her last, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. When she finally crested the top, her voice rang out again. “Kael, you—”

Kael and the Titanis turned toward her, both startled. Titanis’ mechanical eyes whirred, focusing on Lyanna as the dragon shifted its massive frame. The glow in its chest began to build—a low, throbbing hum of power as its internal mechanisms prepared to unleash a torrent of fire.

“Finally,” Lyanna growled, her voice venomous. She turned back to the battlefield below, her heart sinking as she saw Alric. He was struggling, his storm faltering as the Devourer’s tendrils wrapped around him, pulling him toward its core. He slashed wildly, but his strikes grew weaker with each passing second.

“No!” Lyanna screamed, her voice raw. “Titanis, now!”

The dragon’s chest flared, and a moment later, it unleashed a searing column of fire. The flames roared across the battlefield, engulfing the Devourer and its spawn. The ichor-covered ground hissed and steamed as the monster shrieked, its mass writhing in agony. The fire burned bright, consuming the creature with an intensity that made Lyanna’s heart hammer in her chest.

And then, through the flames, she saw him. Alric. His body, charred and smoking, was dragged free of the monster’s collapsing core. He stumbled, collapsing to his knees as he gasped for air, his armor scorched but intact. Her heart raced with an emotion she couldn’t describe, the tightness in her stomach easing.

But it wasn’t enough to drown out the fury building inside her.

She turned to Kael, her hand tightening around her blade’s hilt. “If you’d been where you were supposed to be,” she snarled, her voice shaking with rage, “Alric wouldn’t—”

Lyanna’s vision blurred with tears and fury as she turned back to Kael. For a moment, she saw only red. Her hand shot out, grabbing his collar, and she shoved him back toward the edge of the ridge. His heel caught on the uneven ground, and for a brief, horrifying instant, she thought she might actually push him over.

“You don’t get to fail us!” she screamed, her voice cracking. “You don’t get to—”

Titanis let out a low, rumbling growl, and Lyanna froze, her breath hitching. Kael stared at her, wide-eyed, his hand gripping her wrist. The moment stretched on, the tension between them sharp enough to cut.

Finally, Lyanna released him, shoving him back.

“I did what I had to do!” he snapped. “You think I like this? Watching our people sabotage us from the inside? If I hadn’t stopped them—”

“Enough!” Lyanna’s voice cracked, and she took a step back, her chest heaving. Her hands trembled as she lowered her blade. “Just... enough.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. Then Titanis let out a mechanical whine, its glowing eyes dimming as it folded its wings. The dragon’s fire had done its work; the Devourer was nothing more than a smoldering, oozing crater in the earth.

Lyanna turned away from Kael, unable to look at him any longer. Her chest heaving as exhaustion clawed at her limbs. Legs trembled beneath her, but she forced herself to remain upright, her gaze fixed on the devastation below. The fires that burned across the field illuminated the full scope of the carnage, and her breath caught in her throat.

The flames from Titanis’ final assault still licked the edges of the battlefield, painting everything in hues of molten orange and deep shadow. The Devourer’s remnants sizzled and hissed, its grotesque form collapsing into a pool of viscous black ichor. The battlefield fell eerily silent for the first time in what felt like hours. But it was not the silence of relief or victory—it was the silence of death.

The ground was littered with bodies. Soldiers, mages, and monsters alike lay in twisted heaps, their blood pooling in the churned earth. Some corpses were barely recognizable, their features burned away or torn asunder by the Devourer’s wrath. Others lay frozen in grotesque poses of fear or agony, their last moments etched into their lifeless faces. The acrid stench of death and burning flesh filled the air, choking her.

Lyanna’s eyes swept the field, her heart sinking further with every step her gaze traveled. She could see the remains of her army—men and women who had once followed her sister into battle with unshakable loyalty. Now they were gone, their vibrant banners trampled and torn. The mage lines, who had once hurled fire and ice with such ferocity, were decimated, their broken staffs and shattered wands scattered among their bodies.

Her gaze landed on Alric. He was still alive—barely. He lay slumped against a jagged rock, his face pale and streaked with blood. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. Lyanna’s heart twisted as she realized how close he had come to being another body on this cursed field. If Titanis had hesitated even a moment longer...

“Alric...” she whispered, her voice breaking. She took a step toward him but stopped, her feet rooted to the ridge as the weight of it all crushed her.

Her gaze returned to the battlefield, to the sea of bodies and the smoldering remnants of the Devourer. The monster was gone, its threat eradicated, but the cost... The cost was too high.

Her knees buckled, and she sank to the ground, her swords clattering to the earth beside her. She buried her face in her hands, the weight of her failure pressing down on her like a physical force. She had survived, but at what price? The battlefield below was a graveyard, a monument to their hubris and desperation.

In the distance, the first rays of dawn began to break over the horizon, casting the field in a pale, golden light. But the light brought no comfort. It only served to highlight the full extent of the horror—the lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, the blood-soaked earth, the shattered remnants of hope.

Lyanna closed her eyes, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The embers of hope that had once burned within her had been snuffed out, leaving only ash in their wake.