Ultimatum

Second Era

Four black hoods walked silently through a forest of dark and twisted trees. There was no guiding light for them. There was no sound cast out by them.

There was no telling they were even there, unless would-be observers had golden eyes of their own.

And golden eyes, indeed, peered out from each of the three hoods. Hunters’ eyes. The seven-foot figure in front of the party had narrow eyes like a cat’s, and the white fur to match. Akvum. Leader of azar’kara. Leader of The Hunters.

A woman's mouth moved before she remembered the active enchantment. She held her hand out flat and lowered it toward the ground. Then she said, “There’s someone ahead.”

Akvum nodded. He knew already. He knew where they would be before they even arrived—these were his woods, and nothing could surprise him here.

The enchantment fell entirely as dark shadows darted all around them. The attack had begun, and their silence was dismissed.

A blue glowing from the rear van signaled a spell, as a long and crooked staff appeared out of thin air into a man’s hand. He held it aloft and screamed out.

BTOOOOM!

The backdraft from his fired projectile blew his hood off and revealed his angled, calm face. He adjusted his round spectacles once and ran a hand through his long blonde hair before raising the staff again.

Akvum drew his scimitar. He looked to the fourth man to ensure that his weapon was drawn as well; another scimitar.

“Leave not the span of a breath—don’t let them recoup!”

The woman and spectacled man had both begun a flurry of multicolored magic into the cool night air.

“Etherians!?” the fourth man asked in a panic. His sword hand was shaking.

“No. Mind-controlled Hunters. Don’t hold back.” Akvum commanded once before rushing forward and swinging at the closest one.

The Hunter was too fast—he ducked under the horizontal swing and kicked hard enough off the ground to launch into the air with a flying knee.

Akvum blocked the stunning blow with his forearm. His scimitar came down and cleaved the man severely. The body fell.

Then, on to the next—except for the hand that then wrapped around his ankle. He looked down in panic. The dead were not dying.

“GROUP UP! They’ll swarm us if we're not—”

A shimmer down through the trees caught his eye. A purple light. The swirling carapace of an Etherian. A crooked crown.

“Rykaedi!” shouted the woman in their party. She rushed the distant visage.

“No! Focus the undead!” Akvum screamed again.

Then something glowing golden passed overhead. Like a touch of sunlight.

He froze up. He had erred entirely.

“Split up!” came the last desperate gasp he could muster before a golden glowing palm axe slammed into the dirt between them all.

Akvum threw himself over the hesitating fourth man, while Ivalié and the woman both cast quick enchantments to shield themselves.

BAAANG!

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The axe exploded.

Akvum lifted his head from the ground where he sheltered their fourth member. His robes were scorched by the explosion of burning daylight. He couldn’t tell who had survived through the smoke. He couldn’t tell, until…

Ivalié’s horrified face became visible for just a moment through the obscurity. He shut his mouth just before the smoke enveloped him again.

Then the smoke cleared from the ground to reveal the other end of his gaze: the bloody, dismembered legs of the woman.

Akvum whimpered, “Cass!”

“Her enchantment failed!” Ivalié cried out.

The legs were still upright. And then the shambling undead began to claw through the ash, and those upright legs became covered in robes from the ground.

Immediately Cass’ robes twisted and changed into a vibrant purple dress, with black frills all across it. There was a horrible crunching as her skull began to stretch through her skin, and formed itself into a jagged black crown.

“Cassandra, was it?” the woman asked with a snide grin. She was no longer the woman they knew.

“Damn you, Rykaedi.” Ivalié hissed. He held his hands out toward her.

“Hunters against Etherians… it feels like the First Era. I’m feeling… nostalgic!” she splayed her new arms out beside herself.

Then went the blast of ice magic from Ivalié’s hands.

“No!” Akvum protested.

Rykaedi warped through that sound of crackling ice until she was at Ivalié’s side.

His skin had already become covered in white crystalline armor—the armor of his own damnable demon.

“Oho…? Turning your enemies into your own weapons? How sweet! Kneel, Ithlo’vatis!”

And just like that, his crystal form complied and fell to a knee.

Akvum grit his teeth; I can’t reveal my Etherian here… She can’t discover him…

“Skalla, leave just these two alive.”

A silhouette behind Rykaedi spoke up to say, “Earth consume you.”

The man beneath Akvum screamed out in absolute horror as the ground began to consume him. Akvum grabbed his hand and rose to his knees, desperately pulling and struggling against the impossibly strong magic of a demon.

“Suffocation.” Rykaedi licked her fangs. “What a fun attack, Skalla.”

Akvum continued to dig with his paws, crying out in horrified whimpers all the way.

“What do you want, Rykaedi?” Ivalié struggled to ask through his Etherian's control.

Then a third figure landed gently from incredible speed—gold-helmed Hemah. She spun her long and shining palm axe and stuck the pommel into the dirt.

Rykaedi smiled, "I'm reforging The Twelve. Those who interfere too much have ruled it for too long."

Akvum gasped and finally looked at her.

"Perhaps you'd like to join me?"

But then—the sky opened up. Nighttime turned to daytime. An explosion of every color wracked the world. Akvum tensed up and fell with a scream. He vomited into the grass and writhed around in pain as all of the leylines pulled as though tearing his muscles. His mind ached.

Ivalié felt the pain, too. But he was not allowed to move.

"It's done." Rykaedi mused, looking to the northern epicenter of the explosion. "Dyosius has sprung for the first time. Good job, Kasian and Tovas."

"T-Tovas!" Akvum struck the ground and clutched his chest.

"We're done here." she snapped her fingers, and began to walk away.

Ivalié was allowed to collapse. Akvum still pressed his head into the ground, desperate to fight against the overwhelming sensation of loss that had washed over him. The sun was warm now—but hadn't it been a cool night? What was lost, then, time? Or something worse?

Akvum looked up one final time as Rykaedi launched from the ground silently, to incredible speed. Then went Hemah, then Skalla...

Ivalié dragged himself to his feet. He stood with shaky legs and stared up to watch the stars fade from the sky. Stars that no longer aligned with what he knew.

"I'll… kill her…" he growled.

"No—Ivalié, sit. We need time, we need…" he clawed at the ground again. His fourth, his trainee—where was he?

"Spared for our Etherians… that will be a fatal mistake. That will be…"

They both lamented. They both clenched their fists tight enough to draw blood.

"We'll make her pay." they agreed.