Jaron stood back, his watchful eye monitoring the situation. He watched as Taryn cut his way through the demons, then watched as Taryn got too confident and was all of a sudden confronted with death hurtling towards his neck.

A chill ran through Jaron’s body as he saw the boy’s certain death.

Iside, I beg you, please save him! He thought desperately, hoping his former patron goddess spared enough pity for him to consider saving Taryn.

It was a feeling much like relief that coursed through him when Jaron saw Iside’s protective magic around Taryn, glowing and pulsing as if it had life of its own.

Far ahead on the battlefield, Tarbork and the succubus rushed out, rapidly shifting the tide of battle.

As they approached them, Jaron could see the fear in the eyes of the elven soldiers as they realised exactly what was about to happen.

The succubus grabbed the hand of a young man standing next to her, then slit his throat before he could react, dropping his body with a thud. The succubus turned, looking at her commander, then turned and charged straight towards Jaron. Her movements were slow, deliberate, but Jaron knew she would get there soon.

Jaron shifted, drawing up from where he sat, mounted upon his horse.

“A commander’s place is with his men on the battlefield,” He muttered, spurring his horse on.

A quick glance at Dethemina confirmed that she, too, sprinted into the battlefield, twin swords held in each hand glinting.

The two women met headlong in the middle, weapons flashing as they traded blows. As they did so, Jaron’s gaze darted anxiously from the succubus to Dethemina. In the corner of his eye he noted a tall figure rushing forward, and with difficulty, he tore his gaze away from Dethemina and focused on intercepting Tarbork's oncoming blow. He felt a sharp pain lance through his side, and before he could even process the source, Tarbork was upon him, a sword at his throat. His heart lurched, panic seizing him.

Jaron thrust his sword at Tarbork, causing the demon to spring back, allowing Jaron to roll to the side and quickly get to his feet. He watched his opponent warily, keeping an eye on Dethemina at the same time. Dethemina, his sister, was too young to participate in the first Demon war, so she was spared both the horrors and the battle experience. And no mock battles would ever be able to truly simulate the feeling of true battle.

"Why don't you use some of those guardian tricks, huh? Make it a bit harder for me! Make it an interesting fight!" The demon yelled.

Tarbork lunged forward and Jaron nimbly dodged away, his feet moving as if he were dancing with the bloody battlefield as his stage. He ran up, smashing his sword against Tarbork and threw all his weight at the demon. Tarbork wobbled, on the verge of falling and he swiftly retreated, putting a good bit of distance between them.

Immediately, Jaron sprang into action, racing away from Tarbork and towards his sister—and the demons creeping up behind her. He ran up behind one of the demons, stabbing it through the heart before spinning and stabbing another in the leg, making them fall down on the ground with a yelp.

"Fighting for two, I see," Tarbork rumbled, a throaty chuckle leaving his mouth, "It just makes my job easier, little guardian."

Jaron laughed—a sound so distorted he wondered if it was really his own voice.

Finally something I can throw in his face, and it just so happens to be the thing that will probably leave me a cold corpse on this battlefield before this is over? Tragic, He sighed, Tragic... and I'd hoped, too... to live to see the day Sagar is opened. Lived to see paradise.

"Tarbork," He cried, removing his helm and brushing aside his sweat soaked bangs, "I'm no longer a guardian! You've been fighting a normal man and I still pushed you back! Even without guardian powers I can obviously defeat you!"

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A bluff… He thought, But one that he will fall for.

The demon lunged forward with a mighty leap and launched a series of attacks at Jaron, each lethal had Jaron not knocked them away from his chest and vital areas. Despite his blocks, he winced as superficial scratches lined his arms and upper legs, encumbering his movement.

The demon seemed to notice this and gave him an annoyed grunt, before striking out again with a barrage of strikes, Jaron's armour took dents and scratches, but it was nowhere near the intensity needed to break through the hardened metal and he felt more than saw more cuts on his skin open. He breathed heavily, sweating profusely.

Dragging this out will not benefit me, Jaron thought, I have to finish this quickly.

Ducking, he moved forward in a flurry of kicks and strikes, each blow connected with a resounding crash.

Jaron was aware of the battle going on around him, it was the usual cacophony of the Abyss, screams of agony, the clash of blades, his heart beating erratically. A voice cried out, lighter than the usual screams and cries of demons and elves.

Dethemina!

Jaron's head whipped around as he saw his sister stumble, her leg protruding at an odd angle and various deep cuts leaking blood.

It was his battle sense more than anything that alerted him to a deadly swing by Tarbork while he was preoccupied. No man could fight at his best worrying about the one he cared about. He bent backward, watching the blade shear over the place his head had been before.

He’d just managed to turn when something heavy slammed into his back. The force pushed him forward and down onto the ground. He grunted as a sharp pain in his side made itself known. A moment later, there was weight on top of his chest. Someone was lying on his back.

"My lord! I'm sorry!" An elven soldier gasped, rolling off Jaron and staggering off.

Jaron charged at Tarbork, aiming his sword at the demon's head, but reversing his blade at the last second and slashing at his arm instead. The demon roared as the sword bit deep into the flesh of his arm and stuck there. Tarbork flailed, ripping the weapon out of Jaron's hand.

"Jaron!" Dethemina cried behind him, and he spun around as another blade caught him under the ribs, tearing through flesh and muscle. He fell forward, gasping as he felt blood flow warmly from the wound. His eyes darted around trying to track where it had come from and he spotted the succubus stride towards him. Her hand was empty - her blade buried in Jaron's back - and she quickly grasped the handle and pulled it out of Jaron, causing him to let out a guttural cry. He landed heavily on the ground, his legs strangely unable to support his body, blood gushing freely from the gaping wound in his chest.

The succubus stood above Jaron, looking down at him with an evil smile stretching across her face. Jaron tried to push himself up, but pain coursed through him and he collapsed again. It was impossible to breathe. His vision blurred as he looked up at her.

With his final breaths, he looked at Dethemina, whose eyes had widened in horror, and he mouthed ‘run’. Blood dribbled down his chin from his mouth and black dots swarmed his vision. Dethemina’s face morphed into one of determination and a sinking feeling filled Jaron. His eyes widened and he tried frantically to shake his head and warn her away.

No! You have to live! What of you children? Live for Aranel and Taryn!

In an instant, she vanished from his eyesight and reappeared almost on top of him.

She was a formidable foe when she fully utilised her teleportation powers, but she was still no match for the two powerful demons she fought. Her body joined her brother’s on the ground as he drew his last breath and his spirit left his body.

He surveyed the scene with dismay, noticing the battle had quickly shifted in favour of the demons. The guardians still fought, driving back hordes of demon minions.

Ah… I can be thankful we kept the powerful demons at bay for as long as we could, Jaron thought, I hope the guardians survive.

A strange and growing tugging sensation pulled at his spirit, trying to draw him away from the battlefield. Just as he was about to turn and leave, his eyes met Jason’s from across the battlefield. The boy’s eyes widened in shock, but Jaron could see it had not been the first time he’d seen a spirit leave for the Ether.

The commanders are no match for you, Jaron mouthed, Run!

And… I hope it will be you who are the ones to find Sagar. Find paradise… the key…

His spirit faded a little and he knew instinctively that his time was up. He turned away and saw his sister’s spirit waiting. A bittersweet smile on his face, he took her hand and they followed the insistent pull of the Ether.