Faunia was fast approaching Rykaedi. She saw the giant bone claw reach up to Elos, saw the deep blue glow from her fingertip…
…Whatever she’s doing… I have to stop it!
Then there was something in her path.
Faunia threw her arms up and manifested a shield, dragged it toward herself and pressed her boots against it, slid herself to a fast halt. The shield dispersed and she could clearly see the deep blue armor ahead, curving, lacking any imperfection. There was no face, just a blue bulb behind which an Etherian was hidden. She thought she knew just the one.
“Okella, is that you? Okella of Rael?”
No response.
Faunia tilted her head, tried to get a better look at the figure. Then she saw the black disc on the Etherian’s back, a ball in the center of it, like a dark planet with a wide black ring around it.
“Is that…?” She narrowed her eyes at it. No—what is that?
Then a dozen tentacles crawled out from the figure’s back.
“It is you, Okella.”
The tendrils launched in a frenzy of strikes at her. The blue figure rushed forward with the attack.
Faunia raised a prismatic shield again and launched herself backward. Okella did not delay in pursuing her.
Then came something in her peripheral—Cedric!
Shwish!
He swung a sword of immense size, cleaved right through all of the tendrils attacking Faunia.
Okella reeled back with a terrifying screech of pain, clutched her helmet.
“Okella!” he shouted. “Listen to me, this isn’t you!”
“Cedric, on her back!”
He looked. “That’s—Dyosius Stabilis!”
The skeletal wyrm in the distance craned its head to their level. “I don’t have much faith that Okella will fill in as the missing piece. Do you?”
Cedric turned up toward her. “Rykaedi—release her! This isn't fair, you're tormenting her—ough!”
He grunted as a fast shot of water struck him in the chest. Then Okella rushed upward for him, drew back her hand and let it form into a watery blade.
Cedric braced his arms. The blade slammed through his left forearm and severed it from his body. The tip only grazed his chest as he fell backwards with a scream.
Faunia cried out for him, turned her attention to Okella. “Fuck this!” She grasped her rapier at the middle of its length and drew back—the weapon became an oversized bow.
THWIP!
Okella lunged past the arrow, turned her attention to Faunia. Her posture was so far unlike Okella’s, stern and stiff, that Faunia wondered if they really were the same person.
Then she let out her own scream, grappled her skull. All thoughts were eradicated save for the voice which seared her mind like a knife: remember, Faunia Vleren—you’re my plaything.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Faunia!” Akvum dropped between them with his scimitars drawn.
She could barely see him through her pained grimace.
Rykaedi cocked her head in the distance, chuckled. “Akvum, how delightful to see you! Let's play with something more fun…!”
“Stop this, Rykaedi. You're tormenting Etherians for a laugh.”
“I'll do far worse than that for a laugh.”
Akvum bared his fangs. Okella tensed up and readied for her next attack.
“Stabilis, darling, to me.”
There was a brief hesitation in the blue-armored figure. Then she swept back through the primordial sea to her parent.
Akvum snarled, “I don't think so.”
The azar rushed forward with his scimitars dancing. More tendrils swam from her back and shoulders, swatted against each swing and deteriorated into blue chunks of slime as he cleaved them, one after the other.
Rykaedi laughed a horrid, inhuman chortle. She swung her hand through the murk.
Akvum threw his guard up in a panic. The palm of her hand swatted him, pushed him like he was weightless.
She grasped him tightly. Her hand began to squeeze.
Then the cat looked—Marisol had been released. There she floated, lifeless.
“Mari. Mari!”
The girl snapped to attention. She turned her head so slowly, as though already afflicted by rigor mortis. “...Akvum?”
“Use your Etherian, do it now!”
Rykaedi craned her bird-like head toward the girl. “I don't think so.”
Akvum growled. He looked back to Cedric.
Cedric floated backward for a long moment. He stared at the stump of his arm.
Not the first time. Cedric, snap to it. It’s not the first time you’ve lost a limb. Your legs, in Freiya? Come on. Don’t let this slow you down…
He felt his armor become heavy. The pale hands were clinging at him again, dragging him down. Big bubbles of blood floated up and out of the open wound. He felt a wave of sickness wash over him.
Then came the peace. He remembered the orange flowers in the Deadworld beyond. He almost began to smile.
“Cedric!” Faunia rammed into his back, yanked him out of the slurry of souls. Her voice was strained: “Come on, don’t fucking give up on me yet.”
“I… I’m sorry,” he managed to murmur.
He saw his forearm floating ahead, his hand still tensed. He reached his stump out for it, kicked gently away from Faunia.
Strands of Dyosius floated from his arteries, veins, and his nerves. They pulled the chunk of meat close against the wound, stitched it all back together. He opened his hand once, twice…
Then he looked over toward Rykaedi again.
“Do you think we can handle this?”
“The fight’s barely begun yet, Cedric. She’s got a lot more coming our way than just that, I’m sure.”
“Akvum…”
Faunia’s lip quivered and tensed at the big cat in the distance.
“Maybe he can stop her. Maybe we can just rest now.”
“Don’t make me slap you. Come on, we’ve got a fight on our hands.” Faunia swept away.
Cedric nodded. His breathing was labored. His heartrate was elevated… but not elevated in the way that was so familiar. He grasped his chest, hoping to feel that thousand-beat flutter within.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
He lowered his hand.
“Human again. How long did I long for this, and now I can’t be without that stupid demon.” His gaze fell on Rykaedi. He tried to urge his legs to move. “Why can’t I go?”
Then, again, he looked down to the hand that’d been severed. He squeezed it the same way, once, then twice…
“Dyosius?” he asked it.
His palm began to glow.
Cedric smiled softly. “Can we talk?”