A veil of shadows surrounded Derzina, from which extruded long limbs that carried her safely down the high temple’s wall and across the city’s rooftops in a series of leaps. Soaring above her city, Derzina’s terror soon turned to joy as she beheld the familiar buildings laid out beneath her. The ordered streets of white-gold buildings, interspersed with statues depicting the gods that were all that stood between mankind and destruction.

Derzina mused that now they’d need to erect one for Atasimon, now that she’d taken her sister’s place as protector of the city. Assuming they survived long enough for that. But before Derzina could think of what was to come, there were more pressing matters to consider.

“My lady, I have something I must ask. Though of trifling importance compared to the demons on our doorstep, I’m utterly bewildered by my survival.”

“Was your survival ever in doubt?”

“Of course,” Derzina replied immediately, regretting her snap response almost as quickly. “Or so we thought. They said they were sure a mortal body could not contain the essence of a god for long, let alone hold both the mortal and the divine.”

“And they were right.”

“But—“

Atasimon didn’t let her finish. “However, what they brought forth was only a fragment of my former power. Your body should be able to contain it for the time being.”

Derzina hoped the goddess was right, they wouldn’t be much use to the city otherwise. “What happens to you if I can’t endure it?”

“I’ll have no choice but to disperse, along with my sister’s remains. Without you providing a vessel, I won’t be able to hold myself together any longer.”

Though it didn’t help them in the slightest, it reassured Derzina to know that her sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. For the first time in her life, she felt truly useful to her people. Even her only contribution was offering her body as a vessel to allow a goddess to influence the world once more.

Travelling quickly through the air, they soon arrived at the postern. Visible only from this side, the narrow gate was designed to be easily defensible while allowing the city’s soldiers to venture out without opening the main gate.

A small company of Paladins, arrayed in their shining plate of white and gold, awaited them by the base of the wall. Commander Miriten, distinguished the stylized wave of light on his breastplate, watched from the front as they alighted before him.

Though Derzina had never met him personally, she’d seen him many times and he was known to all initiates. A talented warrior and leader with many years of experience, he was the nominal commander of the city’s entire military might, having assumed Ortesia position after her untimely death.

“What is this strange magic?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at them. “Can you truly be Lady Ortesia?”

“I’m sorry, commander,” Derzina said. “There was too little of her left to revive. But the ritual wasn’t in vain, instead it revived her sister; Lady Atasimon.”

The commander adopted a neutral expression and, with a sniff, he donned his helmet. “Her sister?” he echoed. Looking Derzina over, he sighed. “I suppose we should be grateful that the ritual succeeded at all. Is Lady Atasimon willing to lead us into battle?”

Derzina nodded, before looking inward to converse with the god sharing her body. “What now?”

“Tell me briefly of the threat we face.”

“A vast army of demons, at least forty thousand. Between our walls and our departed Lady, it wouldn’t normally have been much of a threat. But when she went out on her own to get a better look at them, she was gravely injured.” Derzina paused to collect herself, sorrow threatening to overwhelm her. “Such that she died before she could even make it back into the city.”

“Even after all this time,” Atasimon said, sounding no less sad than Derzina felt, “I see she has made no effort to curb her reckless nature. That damned fool.”

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A reproach immediately rose within Derzina’s mind, only checked by the knowledge that Atasimon didn’t sound like she meant it badly. She wouldn’t stand for anyone insulting the memory of her Lady so brazenly, even if they were a god. “Is there anything else you’d like to know about the disposition of the demons’ forces?”

“How close are they to the city?”

“Just outside the walls. From what I’ve heard, they’re preparing their assault as we speak.”

“Why did you let them get so close? Are you not the defenders of this city? What have you been doing?”

“After the Lady’s fall, the speakers decided it best that we wait until after they attempted their ritual. If they were capable of defeating her, then there is likely little we can do against them without divine assistance.”

“I see, then I shall have to do my utmost to turn the tide.”

Without warning, Atasimon spoke through her. “Know that your goddess speaks,” she said, though her melodic, booming voice made the shift abundantly clear. “I shall lead you into battle in my sister’s place, but first, I require a weapon.” She extended her hand toward Miriten. “Hand me your dagger, commander.”

“Are you certain, my lady?” he asked, hesitating for an instant before using her title. “I can easily furnish you with a spear, sword or any other weapon you may require.”

“I appreciate the offer, but your dagger will suffice.”

He handed it over and Atasimon raised it up to eye level. After a brief inspection, she nodded to herself and let her hand fall by her side. “Now then,” she said, addressing the gathered Paladins at large, “as we are short on time, I shall keep this brief. These invaders have taken Ortesia from us, and they shall pay with their blood. Will you join me in visiting ruin upon these loathsome creatures?”

A hush fell over the gathered Paladins, their eyes wide with surprise. Then, beginning with the commander, a wordless cry of rage sprung from the throat of every man and woman present. Derzina would have joined them without a thought, were she able.

Atasimon stepped forward and the crowd parted to let her through. “Prepare yourselves,” she said, “I will hide us from the enemy’s sight as we emerge, so that we might catch them off guard. Refrain from using the power granted to you by my sister until we are revealed, then fight for all you are worth.” A dark haze fell over each soldier present, including Derzina. It rendered them indistinct blurs, though none seemed bothered by it.

Atasimon gestured to the nearest Paladin and said, “Open the gate.”

Two of the men grabbed the gate’s handles and slid it silently into the wall, opening a gap barely large enough for two people to stand abreast. And thus, without further preamble, they sighted the most forward elements of the demon army standing right before the wall.

At first glance, the only thing that separated them from the human’s militiamen were the patches of colourful skin visible through gaps in their armour and the small horns visible on those few who were unhelmed. It was comprised for the most part of varying shades of yellow, with a few blue skins here and there.

Derzina didn’t know what the different colours signified, if anything, and she didn’t care. Whatever the colour of their skin, they would die for their crimes and water the barren earth with their blood.

The dark haze of Atasimon’s enchantment clung to them as they drew closer to the demons, and to Derzina’s surprise their approach went unnoticed. Atasimon walked within arm’s reach of the nearest demon, a lanky yellow-skinned brute, and plunged her borrowed weapon into his throat. Burying it up the hilt, she ripped it free with a spurt of blood and moved on.

The demons around them, alarmed by the sudden death of their comrade, readied their weapons and started to close ranks. But Atasimon was already among them. She left the Paladins behind and moved unseen amongst the demons in a flurry of bloody carnage.

Such was the alacrity with which Atasimon dispatched the demons, that Derzina had trouble following what was happening. Demons lashed out, fled, or tried to cover their exposed flesh but still they died.

Her knife lodged in bone and she left it behind, making use of whatever weapons she could lay hands on. And regardless of her methods, their foes fell by the moment until their ranks were broken and Atasimon was surrounded by the dead or dying.

But still the goddess was unsatisfied, and she ran down the demons as they retreated toward the rest of their forces. After another slaughter, Atasimon left her spear in the back of a demon and stopped to survey the battlefield.

The enemy was now in full retreat, and Derzina decided now was probably a good time to speak. “Should we not fall back as well, my lady?” They were now a considerable distance from the walls and the copious bloodshed had sated her righteous anger for the moment.

“No,” her voice boomed. “Not until I have slaughtered them all.”

“But what of the others, my lady? This is beyond any of us mortals.”

Atasimon looked back to see the gleaming ranks of Paladins, stripped of their concealment and somewhat diminished, far behind. “It matters not. If need be, I shall continue alone.”

As Atasimon watched, the centre of the demons’ formation rallied and turned to face her. She waited for them to approach but they simply stood there, facing in her direction until their ranks parted to admit a small group of soldiers.

A bodyguard of black-armoured demons with broad shields surrounded a central figure. Atasimon uttered a vile curse and Derzina realized, a moment before Atasimon took up her stolen spear and charged them, that this must be the demon who’d slain Ortesia.