He considered casting his Spectral Wings, but decided it was best to preserve his essence for the coming battle.Scurrying over to the side of the building, he began his climb.If the ancient mausoleum had been in better condition, his task would have been impossible; it was only the cracks and crevasses that had been opened up by age and damage from falling rocks that allowed him to cling to the sides of the nearly sheer walls and even then, footholds were far and few between.
His progress was slow and his path meandering. Despite his unnatural strength, by the time Jasper managed to drag himself onto the roof, his limbs were shaking like leaves in a hurricane. Flopping on his back, he took deep, ragged breaths before summoning the strength to stand.
He reached the statue and crouched down beside it. Balanced precariously along the ledge, it wobbled as he brushed against it and he quickly withdrew his hand, sighing in relief when it steadied itself. Almost wasted it for nothing. Hiding out of sight of the ground, Jasper began to scream at the top of his lungs. He did his best to imitate the mournful wails of the dead god he had heard the last time he was in the city. It wasn't quite the result he had hoped for, sounding more like a strangled cat than a god, but it got the cultists' attention nonetheless.
The sound of shuffling ensued below, and he craned his head cautiously over the ledge. None of them emerged, and he crouched back down again, and resumed his screaming. The nose from below grew louder, as indistinguishable voices were raised in quiet bickering, but eventually the cultists were unable to ignore the strange screams any longer. They emerged in groups of two and three, clutching their weapons tightly in their hand, as their ears searched the darkness.
Jasper watched as they entered the range of the statue. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to be able to wipe out the entire group with one blow, but it was better than nothing. Grabbing the bird-man statue, he shoved it over the edge. For a brief moment, the half-bird monstrosity flew through the air, swooping down on its victims like an owl chasing mice. Then, with a thunderous roar, it smashed into the group.
Those in the middle were crushed outright, but those on either flank survived, despite being showered by stone shards. Jasper struck quickly, his hands twisting in multiple casts of purge and he watched with grim satisfaction as the cultists fell to their knees, clutching at their throats. One of them spotted him and, pointing with a shaking hand, gave a garbled cry.
Footsteps pounded beneath him and five more cultists emerged from the building. Following the pointed hand of the dying Djinn, they glanced up at the roof as Jasper continued his attack. Purge. Purge. Purge. Purge. Purge.
Two of them dropped to their knees beside their brethren, but the other three just glared up at him and Jasper felt his heart sink. Crap. They’re too high of level for it to kill them. Abandoning Purge, he started to summon the essence for a different spell one of them lifted his hand. Immediately, a silver beam of light shot toward Jasper. He tried to dodge, but it was about as pointless an effort as dodging a bullet. The silver light slowed as it sliced through part of the roof, but it still struck him in the shoulder with enough force to send him pirouetting like a ballerina.
He staggered like a drunken sailor on the edge of the roof, arms windmilling as he tried to maintain his balance. Another beam of light shot toward him and, ironically, saved him from the fall, sending him sprawling backwards.
Oof. The landing forced the air out of his lungs and his head smashed hard against one of the rocks that littered the rooftop, sending stars shooting across his vision. His chest burned and shoulder burned where the spells had hit, but Jasper knew he had no time to wallow in his agony.
Somehow he lurched to his feet and, being careful to stay out of sight of the ground, began to draw on his essence.
“Aha! There are you, maggot. Did you think you could hide from me!” One of the cultists shot high above the ledge and crashed down on the roof a few feet away from him. A thick cloud of dust erupted around him, sending them both into a fit of coughing.
“Achg..Achg…Fiery Shackles.”Jasper managed to wheeze out as the man lunged toward him.The claws bit down hard around the warrior’s ankles, binding him in place, but it wasn’t enough to prevent his long spear from whistling straight toward Jasper’s heart.He threw himself backwards and rolled to his feet as the man broke free of the chains.
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Sweeping the glaive in front of him, he forced the man to block as his mind raced for a way to end the fight. Already, he was beginning to feel the strain of essence deprivation and below he could hear shouts and cries indicating that at least a few other cultists had survived. They exchanged blows, and Jasper was driven back by the warrior’s superior might. With a roar, the Djinn activated some ability and shot forward with unnatural speed.
Jasper tried to bring his blade up in time to block the blow and succeeded in shoving it slightly to the right. He screamed in pain as the man’s spear pierced deep into his chest, but it missed the heart. Dropping his glaive, he grabbed hold of the spear with both hands and stubbornly clung on as the Djinn tried to withdraw it, and he cast his spell. Flame Charge. The white flames boiled out of his hand, quickly sweeping across his body and, just as quickly, rushing across the spear embedded in his chest toward the Djinn. The warrior was too slow to respond and his cries of pain joined Jasper’s as the two were wreathed in flames.
Ignoring the cultist now writhing on the ground, Jasper snapped the shaft off of the spear, leaving the head embedded in his chest. Snatching up his glaive, he quickly cast Spectral Wings and threw himself off the roof.
Flame and shadow billowed around him as Jasper dived straight toward the enemy mage. The cultist’s hands moved fast, sending another beam of silver light that gauged a hole through his left leg, but Jasper persevered. Colliding with the mage, the two rolled head over heels into the group of cultists. Stumbling to his feet, Jasper swept his burning glaive in a circle around him. The warriors blocked his blows with ease, but the fire was not so easily thwarted. Their weapons caught fire which quickly spread to any who weren’t fast enough to drop them.
Jasper was sent flying forward as a blow hit him from the back. The rough pumice tore at his skin as he skidded across the ground and slammed into one of the fallen boulders. Flipping on his back, he saw the mage had risen.
The man was completely nude now, his cloak still burning on the ground beside him, and large angry welts crisscrossed the vast bulk of his body, but his hands were already twisting with another spell. Jasper reached for his essence, but he knew he wasn’t going to get a spell off his own off in time. I’m going to die.
Silver light glowed in the mage’s hand as he aimed them toward Jasper; then, in the blink of eye, the man was suddenly flung backward by an unseen force. He splatted against the wall of the ancient tomb like a bug on a windshield and the few cultists who still survived dropped to their knees as one.
What the hell? Footsteps crunched behind him as Jasper struggled to stand. He paused as a light hand rested on his shoulder, and turned to look.
It was a dainty hand; though currently smeared in blood, the softness of the skin and the long, painted nails told a tale of luxury. Following the arm up to the face, Jasper recoiled in horror. A small woman stood beside him, though save for her breasts, her gender would have been nearly impossible to tell due to the fact that her face was all but ripped off. Strips of flesh hung loosely around a jaw that sagged impossibly low and there was no sign of her nose at all.
The creature laughed, a light, tinkling noise entirely incongruous with her image, and twisted the finger of her hand. Jasper could sense the enormous surge of essence that flooded through her body, far more in a single quick cast than his entire pool of magic, and watched in spellbound awe as her face knit itself back together in a matter of seconds.
When the healing was complete, a woman with silver eyes and delicate antlers peered down at him. Her long black hair was still streaked with bits of blood and gore, but there was no denying her almost ethereal beauty. He stared up at her in confusion. Who the hell are you?
The woman clicked her tongue disapprovingly.“Now, now, there’s no need to curse, Yas̆peh,” she responded to his thoughts.Her hand left his shoulder and lifted his chin up with one of her long fingernails.“And as for who I am, I’m the one you’re here to kill.Isn’t that right?”
Jasper’s blood froze as he stared up at the demigoddess. Yas̆gah. With a burst of strength, he tried to rise to his feet, to break from her grasp, but her hand clamped around his shoulder and thrust him back on his knees.
“Sorry, little one, but you’re going nowhere.” Her eyes darkened as she stared down at him. “You know, I’m actually rather impressed. Kas̆dael has had a few Hands since she and I…parted ways, but none of them ever amounted to much. But you actually managed to kill Kurkuzan.”
Jasper cried out in pain as her grip on his shoulder tightened, and she wormed her fingers into the wound opened by the spear. “Yes, I am impressed. Perhaps if you had lived longer, you could have accomplished something, but Kurkuzan, despite his flaws, was my favorite servant. I’m afraid that by killing him you’ve signed your death warrant.”
Her fingers flicked against the spearhead still embedded in him, sending it tearing through flesh and bone to erupt out the other side. He bit down hard on his tongue, tasting the blood, as he fought to keep from screaming.
“Although…” the woman paused, and cocked her head to the side, examining him as if he was something stuck to her shoe. “When I ascend, I shall need a servant of my own. Stealing Kas̆dael’s would be,” she giggled, “delectable.” A cold, cruel smile crossed her face, and she withdrew her hand from his wound. Grabbing his arm, she yanked him to the feet with such force he could feel his shoulder pulled out of its joint. Dragging him behind her, she started to walk toward the ruined tomb.
“Come with me, Yas̆peh. I shall grant you the chance to save yourself, to make the same choice Kurkuzan intended to give you. We shall see what stuff you are made of."