Zavier and Lira were lying side by side on the bed, fast asleep. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and she was smiling softly. Looking at them made Elurra feel a pang of loneliness. Suddenly, Zavier jolted awake, a dagger springing to his fingers faster than Elurra thought was possible. Lira bolted up, immediately alarmed by his behavior. Elurra noted the cut on her arm had mostly healed. A few weeks, maybe a month, had passed since the last time she saw them.
“Zavier?”
“They’re coming,” he hissed, terrified. “You have to get out of here!” He pushed her out of bed. She stumbled forward, almost losing her balance.
“What are you talking about?”
Lira’s door abruptly flew open, and her father stepped into the room.
“Hello, daughter,” he said mockingly. “I know your birthday is in a week, but it is time we had a surprise party.” He gave her a grim smile and closed the door. “You seem to be keeping secrets from me. The Demons have been tracking down the Demon slayer. For a while, you eluded them, but no longer.”
Dark shapes materialized over the balcony, sending chills down Elurra’s spine. At least a dozen Demons appeared from the darkness, surrounding Lira and Zavier.
“Master, she has a Guardian!” one of the Demons hissed.
“What?” the king exclaimed, taking an involuntary step backward. He apparently could not see through Zavier’s magical defenses. “Kill them both!”
The Demons advanced toward them, and Lira pulled out her sword. Before any of the monsters could react, she lunged forward and penetrated the nearest one. She vanished from view for a second before a bright flash of light eradicated the beast from within. The others retreated and eyed her carefully.
“I’ve got your back,” Zavier informed her grimly, putting up a field of protection behind her.
She grunted in reply, dodging an attack from a Demon and stabbing at another. She jumped forward and slashed a shadowy adversary, only to have another take its place. A wall of darkness swirled around her, interrupted by the occasional glow of her sword through the tornado of smoke. There were too many of them. The two got separated as the flood of dark creatures overwhelmed them. With one mighty strike, the Demon in front of her slashed three deep cuts into the veins on her wrist. She cried out in anguish, and the sword flew from her hand. Lira fell to her knees, and tears streamed down her dark cheeks. Zavier called out her name, but it never reached her ears. The Demons swirled tightly around her, greedily feeding from her pain. Her shrieks of agony became shrill as the Demons wormed into her mind, filling it with imagined tortures.
“Lira!” Zavier screamed. Although she was only a few feet away, an army of beasts cut him off.
“What are you going to do, Guardian scum? We outnumber you,” a Demon hissed, materializing in front of his face.
Another inhuman screech emanated from the princess, making Zavier cringe visibly. Zavier lunged at the Demon, but it blocked his attack. He narrowed his eyes, and the light around him intensified. With a speed Elurra had never seen before, he dove forward into the Demon. With a shriek, it dissolved, and another took its place. Zavier sliced through countless monsters with blinding speed and fury, but they kept appearing. Their defenses couldn’t counter his speed, but numbers were on their side. Dark swirls enveloped Zavier, slicing his skin as he tried to hack them away. Black spikes shot out at him; they bounced off his invisible shield. The battle was intense. Elurra bit her lip as she tried to count the dark cuts covering Zavier’s arms, legs, and face, but she couldn’t keep track of them all. He uttered a spell, and the knife transformed into a strange device Elurra didn’t recognize.
It looked like a tube with an opening at one end. It had a place for his hand and a trigger where his finger fell. He squeezed, and a beam of light flashed out of the tube, blinding Elurra. A Demon wailed and vanished. Zavier pulled the trigger again, and another Demon dissolved. He was tiring, though. For a moment, the purple glow around his weapon blinked unsteadily. He clenched his teeth and uttered another spell, but the glow faded to nothing. He dropped his weapon and stared down the Demons.
“You are weak, Guardian. You can never defeat us. Your skills are formidable, but we are too numerous for you to fight alone, and we now know your tactics. We will create new defenses,” the Demons hissed, deep laughter echoing around the room. Lira’s screams bounced off the walls, hurting Elurra’s ears.
“That's where you're wrong," Zavier hissed. “Confu Gafä!”[i]
The Demons’ eyes widened, and they retreated as Zavier’s glow increased. The light poured out of his mouth in a wave, leaving his body. It looked like a swarm of lightning bugs was piercing the Demons around him. With screams of torment, they vaporized, leaving behind Lira’s limp body and the king. Zavier fell to his knees and spat blood on the ground, his chest heaving. The room was incredibly dark without his glow. More Demons floated beyond the balcony, but they seemed afraid to enter the room. The king looked shocked. A pale mask of terror replaced his normal smug smile.
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“What have you done?” he demanded, his fingers clutching the Kutsal Stones.
Zavier looked up, his eyes frozen daggers. “You are calling on things you do not understand, maggot. Your actions have dire consequences you could never begin to fathom. Not only have you killed hundreds of your own people for greed and power, you have fueled a dark war spanning the entire universe by giving Cythraul a food source. You are scum. Your actions have killed thousands, if not millions, and as a member of the Prath elite armed forces, it is my duty to right the wrongs you have caused.”
The Guardian dragged himself to his feet, determination etched in his eyes. Blood dribbled onto the floor in his wake, but he ignored his injuries and advanced on the king, who looked like a mouse transfixed by a cobra.
The king stumbled backward, his crown tumbling from his head and clattering to the floor. Zavier scooped it up and grabbed the terrified man’s shirt in one smooth transition before he lifted the royal leader off the ground. With surprising force, he threw the old man into the wall, and the Kutsal Stones flew from his hands. Panic and terror glimmered in Zavier’s eyes for a moment, but then his expression hardened as he knelt beside the fallen stones. The cage of terrant at the peak of the crown was open, waiting for the stone of Tipet to return to its rightful position. It was big enough for two Kutsal Stones, though. Reagn’s would fit as well.
“Goodbye, Lira. I’m sorry, but this is my duty as a Prath warrior,” Zavier said softly as he closed his eyes. Hundreds of demonic eyes widened in dismay as Zavier grabbed the rocks.
“No! You cannot touch those!” the king cried, lunging forward.
Abruptly, a dark tear formed in mid-air behind the Guardian, ripping through reality. Zavier screamed in agony as the rift grew wider, like a crack in glass, and the Demons started wailing. The vortex grew as it sucked the Demons into its waiting jaws, and Zavier forced the gems into the cage opening with one swift motion and snapped it shut as he dropped the crown. In a flash, the vortex swallowed him along with the shadowy beasts, their screams of protest fouling the air. Elurra screamed, forgetting no one could hear her, and stared at the place he’d been seconds before, utterly astounded.
Demons flew past her in a long smoky stream and funneled into the vortex. She peered through the bars of the balcony railing to see other rifts had formed in the land below, sucking in Demons like a faucet in reverse. Then, just as suddenly as they’d appeared, the holes in the universe were gone without a trace, as if it had all been a bad dream. For a stunned moment, Elurra sat on the ground, blinking in shock. Her mind didn’t know how to cope with what she’d witnessed. She slowly stood, taking in the room before her. It was empty, save for the king and Lira.
Lira’s hair tumbled around her head, obscuring her face from view. She was still breathing, although each inhalation was labored. To Elurra’s amazement, she tried to pick herself up off the ground. Her limbs shook with effort as she grunted and lifted herself to a sitting position. Her right arm was covered in blood, soaking through the fabric of her shirt. She hung her head and panted heavily as she focused on regaining her strength. Her sword was still lying a few feet away.
“Impossible!” the king exclaimed, falling to his knees. “No!” he howled, glaring at Lira. “I will have to start all over!”
The king lunged for the crown, but Lira pulled a knife from her boot and threw it at him. It pierced his hand, pinning it to the ground. He yowled in agony and yanked the knife out, crimson blood splattering the floor.
“Мяӌҽҥ ҡӈӑӽ![ii] I curse you, my daughter, to be the enemy of all Demons. Your first-born child will be marked as their victim, just as you are marked for slaughter!”
Lira’s head snapped backward, and a black mark appeared on her head before vanishing. Her face paled, and hatred burned in her eyes.
“I will simply never have a child!” she hissed, grabbing Zavier’s weapon from the floor with her good hand. She flung the blade at the king with practiced ease. It whizzed through the air before sinking into his chest. He fell back, coughing blood. Despite the dagger impaling him, he managed a strangled laugh and used all his remaining energy to look at her and grin.
“The Demons told…me I should wait…to kill you because…I would gain an heir,” he said, his shallow chuckle interrupted as a fit of coughing consumed him. Blood pooled on his lips, but he managed to say, “I hope…my grandchild…suffers for your…sins.” He gagged, spitting up blood on the white floor. The king let out a final choked laugh before slumping over, lifeless.
“Zavier, what is he…Zavier?” Elurra watched silently as realization dawned on Lira’s face. She shook her head, trying to deny the facts facing her. “No…No…” With trembling fingers, she reached for the crown. A black handprint was visible around the stones, marking Zavier’s final act. Her body started shaking, and tears dripped down her cheeks, slurring her words and washing the ash off the crown. An unnatural silence surrounded Lira like a blanket, making the moment feel even more empty. The scene faded on the broken girl, who was finally truly alone.
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Elurra woke with tears streaming down her face. Her hair clung to her damp cheeks in a matted net. She reached out, but no one was beside her. She was alone. Terrin’s absence cut into her heart like a knife. She needed someone to talk to. She set her jaw and wiped away her tears. She was going to force Terrin to talk to her. Her dress rustled softly as she quietly stood. The black dividers loomed to one side, blocking the light coming through the tent flap. She slowly felt her way forward, wincing every now and then as the coarse mountain rocks dug into her feet. She reached the exit and pulled back the rough fabric. A gentle breeze brushed her face as she emerged. Two guards stood sentry outside.
“I have to use the restroom, gentlemen,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. They nodded and let her pass. The sky above was inky and starless. The only light came from the dying embers of the bonfires. She looked at all the tents fading into the distance down the mountain, and her heart sank.
How in Incari am I going to find that hot-headed jerk? She looked down at her bracelet, and an idea started to form in the back of her mind. She walked around the far side of the tent to get out of view and sat down in the dirt. She stared at the bracelet and considered the magic knowledge she possessed. It wasn’t much.
“This is impossible,” she muttered.
Suddenly, a dark figure blocked the dim light. Elurra involuntarily jumped as she looked up to see who it was.