King Cahir slowly descended the seven stairs and with every bit of movement, the man’s step seemed more powerful than the last, like an old machine grinding into gears with new naara input. When he reached even ground with Arakiel and Ezekiel, he gripped his wavy two-handed sword with both hands, turned it downwards and then thrust the tip into the ground. The loud reverberations of metal meeting stone once again broke the silence, echoing of several times until they slowly faded out.
It might just be due to his armor, but the Middle royal appeared a notably tall man, one with deceptively broad shoulders and a powerful physique… at least the lean, tight plate armor seemed to suggest such.
Ezekiel was the one who responded first, correcting the royal. “It wasn’t fate that brought us here, Cahir!”
His voice echoed off of the walls as well.
“I object.” The king returned loudly, authoritatively and above all, confidently. “It whispered to me, promised me that this day would come, just like it once promised that I would meet my beloved Ceara and Fodhla.”
“What else did it tell you, this fate of yours!?” Arakiel yelled, having a good idea as to ‘who’ this ‘fate’ was.
The hostile armored man raised his weapon and pointed it straight towards them with the right main hand, his movements fluid and full of tension.
This man was not decrepit in the slightest.
“That you will die today,” Cahir stated matter-of-factly, his voice ringing with finality, one that reverberated once, twice… and then it was gone.
“Funny, a fae whispered the same thing to me,” Ezekiel returned sardonically as he began to write a rune of silver fire into the air in front of him.
Cahir’s free hand clenched to a fist that began to glow in a faint brownish light as he gave an answer that was once again more statement than anything else. “Fodhla, Ceara… soon I will join you in peaceful slumber.”
Arakiel motioned Aurora to step back as he began to apply astral, fire and air alterations onto himself. To glance a blow, to blur the body, to heighten the humours and become fleet of foot. His last and latest astral alteration saw his body turn slightly transparent, turn ethereal.
To the side, Ezekiel applied his own alterations, drawing them in the air first before pulling them into himself one by one.
Just beneath the ivy throne, King Cahir did likewise and judging by the green and brown sheen, he was an Earth-Nature Alterator, a true ascendant.
Arakiel sheathed his scimitar once more. This weapon would do him no good here while he was glad that their earlier talks had considered this… possibility. A penultimate challenge.
Internally, he smiled wryly at the irony.
“Ceara, I was your tower of strength, unyielding as the earth, unmoving as a mountain…” King Cahir spoke quietly as he layered alteration on top of alteration. “Fodhla, I was your oak, strong and unrelenting, bending but never breaking.”
Arakiel wanted to attack him so bad, but Nyanna’s instructions had been clear. Instead, he addressed his brother-in-arms as quietly as possible.
“We strike as one.”
“Aye… but watch out. This guy is serious business.” Ezekiel warned, stated. He sounded tense, despite his earlier comment. “Remember what we talked about,” he added near the end.
Arakiel gave him a grim nod while briefly looking over the pouch at his brother-in-arm’s belt.
A risk, for sure – expensive, certainly… but it might be the only way.
He subconsciously brushed over his own set of dawnshards strapped tightly to his belt.
Not yet, he reminded himself.
The Middle royal’s exterior never changed. Any alterations he put on himself were hidden beneath layered silver-steel armor. He suspected the armor be an artifact. In addition, Arakiel counted four earth and five nature spells thus far.
If Cahir was a normal Alterator, it’d mean some manner of skin-hardening, some kind of resistances – probably to shock and fire – alongside some kind of reinvigoration on the earth side. The nature alterations should see his wounds close faster, his senses heighten and make him fairly resistant to most basic toxins. There was also a realistic chance that he had reached the fourth rank of spells, in which case Arakiel had no clue what the ascendant mage was capable of.
The only thing Arakiel could assume for certain was that their weapons would see little offensive use, which he quietly relayed to Ezekiel who nodded, wasting no further words.
They were ready and it appeared as though King Cahir was about done as well, having just put his tenth alteration onto himself. He then brought his blade back, gripping it with both hands in the front while saluting.
His stomp caused the stone beneath to crack while another sound echoed through the wall.
“Have you said your prayers to the Transcended, murderers?” The king asked calmly and Arakiel could well imagine the man's eyes bouncing from silver to gold and back, asking which of the two had actually dealt the killing blow.
Neither Ezekiel nor Arakiel returned an answer. Instead, they took stance and readied for what was undoubtedly the hardest battle they had ever fought – and yet it was but the penultimate for this day.
Inside, Arakiel felt a little anxious but he nonetheless trusted in Aurora’s flames, for they were everything he had for now.
King Cahir went on to speak, his voice showing no emotion whatsoever. He had become tranquility incarnate. “Then let us fight, planeswalkers. I am Cahir of the Three Rivers, King of the Middle, Chosen of the Fates and an Alterator under the Transcended’s watchful gaze.”
“Ezekiel il Impyrea, Mortal Ascendant and Knight of Lady Alanna, at the ready!” Ezekiel returned, causing Arakiel to throw him a surprised glance yet when he saw his companion lunge forth, he quickly looked to the front right as he heard another powerful footstep.
King Cahir had made his move, charging straight towards them with his blade held low.
For a supposedly decrepit man in full plate, the Middle royal moved far, far too fast and in a matter of moments, he had nearly bridged the gap, yet Ezekiel and Arakiel hadn’t been idle.
Selene’s Dominant went to meet their opponent head on, his alterations leaving his multiple bodies draw blurred afterimages. He intended to not only draw their opponent’s attention, but to gauge the overall mettle while Arakiel circled to the side, his eyes hoping to find any immediate flaws in Cahir’s style while also getting in the man’s rear.
Ezekiel, aflame in silver, brought his halberd to bear in an attempt to force a direct clash of arms and Cahir quietly accepted his challenge, raising his weapon to an upwards slash whereas Ezekiel struck from above. The halberd’s black axe head met the silvery wavy blade with a loud clash of steel and although Arakiel had suspected that his battle partner might not come out on top of this direct confrontation, he was still shocked to see Ezekiel let go of the halberd, right after which he uttered a curse.
Arakiel stopped and immediately formed a fire sigil, hurling the forming evocation King Cahir’s way in an attempt to create some space of Ezekiel. It worked, yet not before the Middle royal had struck and broke two of Ezekiel’s mirror images in the span of a few seconds, his slash and stab having aimed true.
The royal must’ve heard the fire flaring towards him as he rapidly dashed the side which gave Ezekiel enough time to draw his black longsword while the halberd crashed onto the floor somewhere next to him.
Arakiel focused onto a new air sigil and as Aurora’s golden fire rushed out to adhere by his will, King Cahir charged straight towards him, his weapon raised high for a devastating downward cut.
Ezekiel went to intercept, gripping his own sword’s ricasso for a heavy thrust in the side or rear.
Cahir, having noticed, accelerated just in time with a sudden burst of movement. It made Ezekiel miss the window to intercept.
Meanwhile, the golden rune of flames formed right next to Arakiel’s left hand and even though he saw his opponent close in fast, he was confident in his magic and did not shy away.
And then, just as Cahir intended to bring the weapon low, Arakiel flared his fire alteration to strain his muscles while reaching for the air sigil that turned into a dazzling wedge of brilliant golden lightning.
He dashed to the front-right, using his burst of speed to evade Cahir’s strike while driving the wedge of golden crackling electricity straight into his opponents left shoulder, right in between the joints.
Behind him, he heard stone split and splinter while to the side, his lightning sizzled as it sent a shock through the royal’s body. To the front, he saw Ezekiel’s outline just shy of bringing down his black blade right in the seemingly stunned opponent’s back.
Arakiel, however, had little hope that any of this did any real damage. He immediately focused on a set of two sigils that he had come up with over the past weeks, a fire and air one this time around.
He heard Cahir groan every so lightly while Ezekiel let out a roar as he brought his sword down in full onto the king’s back; another loud clattering noise resounded when the akh’s special steel met the artifact armor, followed by a soft whooshing sound that made Arakiel back away, foregoing his cast in the process.
Cahir swirled around quietly, the lightning wedge having seemingly done little. His large sword found Ezekiel’s blade and the two swordsmen clashed once more. If Ezekiel’s strike had dealt any damage at all, then Cahir just brushed it off.
This time, they silently locked blades yet before Arakiel could even begin to take advantage of the situation, the king’s made a brief noise of exertion. He pushed Ezekiel away at first before a swift and nimble kick followed which should be impossible to do with this much plate.
It was definitely an artifact.
The Middle Alterator used the brief window of Ezekiel being on the back foot by going on an all-out flurry of attacks that seemed to grow faster with every single strike. The large wavy blade sliced the air and then met his opponent’s steel at a rapidly increasing rate, forcing Arakiel to once again act swiftly in order to give his party member some breathing room. He moved to intercept while forming two sigils in relatively quick succession which he grabbed mid-motion first before putting in a line. One sought to create a gust of air to act as a combustive agent for the other.
The result blew up quite literally in Cahir’s side, thoroughly engulfing the silvery armor in a conflagration of golden flames while further setting some of the ivies in the back aflame as well, adding a bit of golden light to the lighting crystals silver-white.
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But the king did not relent; quite the opposite, actually. He assailed Ezekiel as a seemingly burning golden torch and with every new strike, the Middle seemed to put even more strength into his strikes, much to the detriment of Selene’s Dominant who could barely keep up with blocking.
Arakiel gnashed his teeth in frustration and focused onto another sigil, another air one. He could only hoped that this caused some sort of reaction.
Meanwhile the Alterator’s strikes sent small reverberations throughout the room which were then followed by an increasingly strained groan on Ezekiel’s part.
Arakiel had never let this much of Aurora’s soul flow into a single sigil, but he needed this attack to hurt, to do something. It formed in front of him and when he reached out to grab it, a line of golden lightning formed and grew in parallel to his hand.
The more of Aurora’s soul he fed into the bolt, the more brilliant it grew until it was as large as a javelin that hissed and hummed in his hand, crackling with energy.
Using his entire body weight, he silently hurled the seemingly weighty bolt of golden lightning at the Alterator and as soon as he opened his hand and ‘let go’, the gold shot out as if it had been launched by a heavy crossbow.
“Ezekiel!” Arakiel cried out as his mind and hands already formed another javelin of golden fire. He found it much easier to alternate his path usage since he was used to fully using up a dawnshard in one go.
His projectile connected right in Cahir’s upper back and unlike the wedge, the javelin exploded with static force of crackling golden lightning which tripped and hopefully stunning the warrior in the process. The golden arcs of electricity sizzled out beautifully and although it did put out his admittedly ineffective fire, it had struck true.
Ezekiel could not only breathe a sigh of relief, but he opted to counterattack right away even if Arakiel couldn’t make it out how since he focused on getting his fire javelin ready.
And then he saw silver ice forming around Cahir’s feet and he was puzzled.
Ezekiel had access to the water path?
His confusion lasted only a split-second before it was pushed aside by his need to make the throwable spear of condensed fire happen.
“The head!” Ezekiel shouted as he grabbed his ricasso once more and instead of striking with his blade, he used his crossguard as a makeshift club with which he struck Cahir’s beaded helmet.
Arakiel heard the clank so loudly as if he was right next to it and he followed it up by a soft whooshing sound as he aimed his second javelin straight at the Middle royal’s upper torso.
The shocked and partially frozen Cahir couldn’t react to Arakiel’s spell in time, if he even saw or noticed it and when the lance of fire exploded right at his head, he was flung forward with such force that the ice around his sabatons broke.
Nonetheless, the king fell flat on his face, revealing Ezekiel who had not only dropped his weapon, but he held a massive silver icicle in his hand that he rammed straight into Cahir’s nape.
It hissed when it came in contact with the golden flames, creating a bit of white mist – yet it was quite obvious that Ezekiel’s ice was much more abundant than Arakiel’s fire.
Once, twice, thrice – with every hit, Selene’s Ascendant seemingly chipped away at the armor while more and more ice began to encase the fallen king, preventing him from getting up.
“Die! Die! Die!” Ezekiel yelled ever louder as he thrust with more and more strength, feeding ever greater amounts of silver soul to his rather pointy-albeit-crude instrument.
Arakiel smelled the first signs of smoke from the side while further to the right, he saw Aurora and Selene watching the battle with bated breath. Unlike during some of the sparring matches, they hadn’t uttered a single word thus far.
King Cahir might be well-defended against physical attacks and to a limited extent against fire and shock, but Earth Alterators could do very little against water and ice.
Nonetheless, it was fairly unlikely that they had just overcome an Ascendant Alterator and when Ezekiel’s ice began to crack and break despite him stabbing the Middle king over and over, Arakiel readied himself once more.
He didn’t know how Cahir found the strength, but he broke the silver ice that had begun to freeze him over in one swift motion that saw him rolling to the side with supermortal agility and from that roll, he somehow created enough momentum to swirl into an upwards position and before Arakiel and especially Ezekiel had even fully realized what had happened, Cahir jumped Ezekiel, sending him to the ground with a massive and powerful uppercut against the helmet, after which he rapidly went to pick up his wavy two-handed sword.
Arakiel flared his fire alteration to a painful limit, even going further by concentrating as much of Aurora’s flame as possible in his legs.
He dashed towards the Middle king who was moments away from grievously injuring Ezekiel, crying out. “I killed Ceara!”
And while he had hoped to draw Cahir’s attention, he hadn’t expected the man to instantly dash over to him at a breakneck speed that almost matched Arakiel’s own.
The Middle ended up being too fast and as his sword was about to connect, Arakiel saw a faint silver light glint up, slightly diverting the blade.
What he had not expected was Cahir’s head ramming into his own right afterwards.
Given that both were still full of momentum when it happened, Arakiel was flung forward and if the royal had aimed just a little lower beneath his helmet, he would’ve had no nose and probably teeth any more. So instead, he slid over the ground, undoubtedly giving his velvety cloth the final deathblow while his armor clanked and clattered deafeningly.
He came to halt some moment later, but the impact had left him stunned nonetheless. How had the damned king even hit him when he was supposed to be blurry and displaced while phasing in and out of the plane’s fabric, or maybe his spell worked differently than he imagined it to.
He had little time to ponder the issue when a blackened, soot-covered beak entered his field of vision, followed immediately by a stab at his throat with a far-too-weighty weapon.
Arakiel’s instincts failed him as he heard a female cry from the side, but it was too late.
Cahir’s attack would connect any moment now and he could only hope that his alterations would somehow soften, misdirect or stave off the blow.
No, that was wishful thinking.
It was over.
He had…
Another flash of silver entered his vision for a split-second before it exploded in a shower of ice right above him as Cahir’s sword stabbed just next to his neck, splitting the stone beneath while also slashing his helmet’s strap.
“Move you idiot!” He heard a male voice shout and Arakiel forced his state of shock to end and it somehow worked. He had too much to accomplish to fall here!
His instinct took over at last and he rolled to the side just as the Middle royal sought to crush his throat with a stomp.
He lost his helmet, but retained his life.
Using a small air sigil to support and stabilize his rise, he got onto his feet just in time to draw his scimitar which he raised in defense as the Alterator had already closed in, assailing him in a flurry of mainly slashes with only very few thrusts.
King Cahir struck Arakiel’s weapon with a force that was beyond this plane, every single block sending painful waves throughout his body and he was already using his second hand to stabilize the blade further.
If he had been up against this man alone, he would’ve died no doubt, even if he went all out from the get-go.
But Arakiel was not alone and Ezekiel had caught up, striking the Middle with a combination of water which he then flash-froze a little later.
Their opponent was caught between the two and they finally got him more or less where they wanted him to be.
With Ezekiel being the more dangerous target to him, the Middle Alterator had to eventually switch focus to stop the constant barrages despite his apparent hatred for Arakiel, but as soon as he turned around, he gave Arakiel time to unleash another devastating lightning attack which seemed to be much more effective than the fire.
The ivy was burning still and the fire slowly spread, but the hall was big enough that it didn’t matter.
For the next minutes, the two planeswalkers and their opponent danced a deadly dance with a constant back and forth and despite all the hits and blows that the two landed, it didn't seem as though the king slowed down at all.
Earth-Nature Alterators had by far the most throughput and sustainability and it showed, for even Arakiel with his admittedly vast amounts of Aurora’s soul felt increasingly drained and Mellia’s absence became only more apparent with every strained breath he took.
And when the Middle landed a blow against Arakiel that made him stagger backwards, he flipped around and fully focused onto Ezekiel once more, whose black longsword snapped in two beneath another flurry of lunges.
By this point, Arakiel hoped that they had worn him down enough because they were nearing their limit as well and quite frankly, they were out of time.
He sheathed his scimitar and reached for his belt, grabbing a dawnshard in each hand.
Then, he flared his fire alteration once more while equalizing the soul inside him to stabilize his senses and instincts. He still had quite a bit, but they’d most likely need it and he absolutely had to rely on his instincts right now.
The seelie wanted a show – and a show they were delivering right this instant.
King Cahir had just attempted to cleave Ezekiel in twain, but when his heavy two-handed weapon struck the air and split the ground with a deafening sound again, Ezekiel thought that he could reach for his halberd that was still intact.
Neither he nor Arakiel had expected the king to reverse his grip and from one moment another, he lunged forth again, except that he didn’t use his blade to thrust, but the pommel. Whether he was familiar with this style of fighting, or whether he had copied Ezekiel, it didn’t matter.
Selene’s Dominant was caught off-guard enough that the first hit connected, after which the Middle Alterator thrust the blade and overgrown crossguard upwards, hitting Ezekiel’s faceplate with full force.
He stumbled back, dazed – at which point King Cahir began to mercilessly hit Ezekiel’s head with his blade’s hilt and pommel over and over. For the first time, the Middle Alterator showed raw emotion as he let out a low, constant roar and judging by the sounds, he became stronger with every hit.
Yet his brief fury stupor made him blind to Arakiel, who had approached on silent, alterated steps while he emptied his mind, focusing only on the succession of sigils that he needed to execute now.
As he did, he let his intent form the first set of runes as he tapped the dawnshards in order to boost his spells. Arakiel reached for the golden astral light first, converting it into a mental assault with the attempt of disorienting and perhaps even numbing Cahir’s instincts just long enough to deal a true killing blow.
As soon as those formed, he punched them into being after which he jumped into a mad dash towards Cahir whose movements froze from one moment to another.
None had used any offensive astral spells yet, so it should’ve not only caught him by surprise, but the boosted effect must’ve overwhelmed his mental fortitude.
Arakiel drew on Aurora’s soul and with it, he formed two small air sigils while he tapped the shards’ white. Dragging the runes along, he planted them both directly on King Cahir’s temples right after which he willed the last set of runes into being, feeding them his soul while tapping all of the red. The shards crumbled to dust.
The man was taller than him, but not tall enough that he couldn’t reach his neck comfortably.
Onto the little swirls of wind, he pushed the two massive runes of golden fire and then pressed them into the wind, into the Middle Alterator.
The condensed conflagrations that exploded outward burned Arakiel’s hands painfully, but they also traveled through the little cracks in the knight’s artifact armor.
King Cahir began to scream out loud as his neck and head were put to the torch both outside and inside – and unlike earlier, these boosted evocations had to go through his resistances.
Arakiel felt the steel beneath growing hot and he eventually had to let go, but judging by the sounds Cahir made, he had just struck a grievous, perhaps even decisive blow.
Even more, the king let go of his blade as he tried to loosen the straps of his helmet.
For but moment, he was distracted.
Behind him, Ezekiel had forewent going for the halberd and instead pulled out two white shards from the pouch. Arakiel did likewise.
From these two tapped wind shards, they each formed a spear of highly potent lightning, one as silver as the moon’s light whereas Arakiel’s shone in the lustrous gold of the morning sun’s rays.
It took a little while to form them, but Arakiel’s prior assault had given them this time and when the enraged king finally removed his beady mask, revealing a weathered, old man’s face with partially greyed out hair, beard and green eyes… it was too late for him.
Arakiel and Ezekiel dashed forward, each aiming the lightning spear in their hands right against King Cahir’s head.
When their attack connected, the Middle Alterator let out a single cry before his entire body began to spasm as his flesh blistered while the blood in his veins boiled.
King Cahir’s conscious movement ceased and he fell over.