I expected the final blow to fall any moment, preparing myself for the pain. But it never came. Hearing the clash of weapons and the screams of the dying, I opened my eyes.
Another group of demon soldiers had arrived without me noticing, apparently I’d been too focused on my own battle. At first, I thought they were reinforcements, but I realised they were attacking the other demons. Taken by surprise, the group I’d been fighting was quickly scattered.
They fled through the grounds, blundering their way through the sculpted garden. One of the newly arrived soldiers took off his helmet, and I recognised Tros. He ran his hand through his short-cropped hair and looked me over. “You two made quite a show of it.”
Fighting back the rising darkness of unconsciousness, I sat down. “Not by choice. You could have acted sooner, you’re lucky we weren’t killed.”
Tros scratched at his cheek. “I didn’t want to show my hand too early, first I had to see if there was actually a chance of your little insurrection succeeding.”
I looked around at Lord Sarinknell’s soldiers that had been struck down by Tros and his men. “I take if you’ve now decided to throw in with us.”
“That’s right. I think she has a real shot at taking her uncle’s spot, assuming she’s still alive. She is still alive, right?”
I hesitated, was she alive? Then I remembered that I’d die too if she did. “Yeah. Though I should probably go check on her.”
I appeared back in the tower beside her. She was lying on the ground, handkerchief still pressed against her neck. Her skin was pale and her breathing was shallow, but she was awake. Sitting up, she managed a weak smile. “Hey. How’d it go?”
“Tros came through in the end and chased off your uncle and his men.” I’d lost sight of the Demon Lord in the chaos, but I assumed he must’ve gone along with the rest of his men.
“That’s good.” She blinked, long and slow. It looked like she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.
The smoke was rising but there wasn't enough to endanger her yet, not that it made much of a difference given the severity of her wounds. “I’ll get you out of here now, don’t worry. Can you stand?”
Bracing herself against the wall, Sarinknell got to her feet. She clung to my shoulder for support and we made our way over to the window. I tossed Shotensho onto the ground, we stepped out. My legs absorbed the impact while Sarinknell used her wings to slow her fall. She made it a few steps away from the smouldering tower before she had to sit down. Tros came over, eyes fixed on Sarinknell. “Is she okay?”
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“She’s badly hurt, but she’ll live.” Or so I hoped. “Is there anything you can do to help?” Healing magic didn’t seem much like what I’d expect from demons, but it didn’t hurt to ask. He might have a healing potion or something. Assuming those kinds of things even existed in this world.
“Let me take a look at her.” He was bending down beside her when I heard a cry from somewhere nearby. I turned to see one of Tros’ men ablaze. I was reaching for my missing sword when the world turned to fire. My eyes snapped shut and I rolled around on the ground, trying to put out the flames engulfing me.
Eventually they went out and, panting, I took another look around. Most of the garden around us blackened by fire or still burning. Tros and his men had fared little better. Sarinknell seemed fine other than her clothes being singed. Tros had shielded her from the worst of it, while he ended up a scorched mess.
My exposed skin hurt terribly, but it wasn’t all bad, at least I could feel my arms again. Each movement was painful but at they were moving. “What the hell happened?”
Elmidath coughed. “It was Lord Sarinknell’s magic. He must still be around.”
This was all the work of one man? “What are we supposed to do?”
Sarinknell’s gaze swept the area and I followed suit. There didn’t seem to be a single soldier that was still in fighting shape. Lady Sarinknell sighed. “We run. There’s… nothing more we can do right now.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Sarinknell was more reckless than anyone I’d ever met and yet she wanted to give up? When we were so close? “We’ve already beaten his soldiers, surely we have to at least try to take him down.”
She scowled, baring her pointed teeth. “Don’t be a fool. Much as I hate it, it’s obvious that we’ve lost. Neither you or I can fight anymore. The same goes for most of our allies.” She shook her head. “It was a good effort but it’s time to give up. We might be able to salvage things later, but only if we’re still alive.”
I strode off, leaving her there on the ground. She was wrong, I could still fight. Despite my injuries, I could feel new life flowing through me. My body wasn’t quite moving the way I wanted it to, but I could still work with this. Now that my arms worked there was nothing stopping me. I scooped up my sword from where it’d landed and searched for Lord Sarinknell.
A solitary man in ornate armour walked the path through Xangro’s garden toward us. Flames swirled around his body like living things. There was no doubt in my mind, the figure must be Lord Sarinknell. I stepped out to meet him, Shotensho held out before me. “Lord Sarinknell.”
He stopped, regarding me with a blank look on his face. “Who are you?” His voice was dry and lifeless, like kindling.
“Cathal Moore, bound to the service of Lady Sarinknell.” Normally I’d have felt ridiculous saying that, but right then I felt only pride.
Other than a slight tightening of his lips, he didn’t react. “I see.” A stream of fire sprung from his body, sizzling through the air in an erratic arc toward me. I charged, trying to get in range before he had a chance to throw out anything more substantial. When the fire drew close, I activated Shotensho’s magic and swung the sword in front of me.
A thin barrier of ice appeared in the path of Lord Sarinknell’s flame. The fire ate through it without faltering and reached out for me. It was hot, far hotter than anything I’d ever felt before. My skin blistered and burnt upon contact and I threw myself to the ground. The demon’s flame followed, not letting me escape.
My frantic thrashing did nothing to deter or extinguish it and the pain was soon too much to bear. Awareness narrowing to a pinprick, I caught one last glimpse of Lord Sarinknell as he walked past. He was looking straight ahead, as if he’d already forgotten about me. With a brief flicker of rage at being so disregarded, I passed out.