The demon clenched his hand around the vaeyn’s throat and roared, blood frothing from his mouth. The weight and power of his attack threw her off-guard, and the two of them tumbled to the floor an instant later. Trz’yel landed cleanly on top of her, pinning her with his superior weight. The vaeyn flailed in his grip and attempted to wriggle free, but his demonic strength held her firmly in place. In desperation, she clutched at the hand crushing her throat, but her efforts were futile.
“Open yourself to me,” Trz’yel hissed, blood dripping from his mouth onto the scarf covering the vaeyn’s face. “There is so much I can teach you.”
Her blue eyes fastened wide in terror.
***
Lieutenant Malan had never seen a Knight of the Last Dawn in person. All Crell soldiers had seen the illustrations and Aetheric projections of their arms and armor, of course, and elite troops were given special training just in case they encountered a paladin. In this particular instance, Sovereign Verrator had provided his Imperators with plenty of information for this mission. Malan had dreamt of battling against a paladin ever since he had been a boy during the Ash war, and when Captain Durech had approached him about this mission, he had immediately volunteered. It was a perfect opportunity to kill an enemy of the state and perhaps finally get the promotion he deserved.
Malan was almost twenty five now, and he was one of the most gifted channelers in Lyebel. Yet despite that, he was rotting away in the lower ranks of the city watch. His ability to control all types of energy was exceptional, and it should have gotten him an instant promotion to the ranks of manticore riders or maybe even dragon riders. Instead he had to deal with the middle-aged, boorish men who made up the city watch.
But now, as the bulky figure of a paladin smashed through the doorway before him and laid prone on the floor, he finally had his opportunity.
“Ah, Mr. Dracian, I believe. Welcome back to Lyebel, Highlord.” Malan smiled and channeled Aetheric fire to his palm. “We’re so glad you decided to honor us with your presence.”
With a flick of his wrist, he sprayed a cone of flame across the doorway. The smaller man accompanying the paladin screamed and dove clear of the blast, but he didn’t matter anyway. Malan was here for Dracian, and the flames would engulf him completely.
He maintained the spell for several seconds until the strain nearly overwhelmed him. He finally released his control, and the flame stopped in a puff, just as if its supply of air had vanished. The body on the ground was still smoldering, but a shield of blue energy jutted straight upwards in front of it. The paladin’s cloak had almost completely burned away, but he wasn’t dead—somehow his shield seemed to have absorbed the blast.
“Shit,” Malan swore.
Dracian vaulted to his feet even as the ground around him burned. Malan could sense the knight’s power, and not just from his shield. A barrier of invisible energy folded around the man like a second suit of armor. His hand abruptly flared with a spell of his own, and Malan reflexively shielded his eyes. Sovereign Verrator had taught his men to avoid the “flash burst,” a simple but effective technique the paladins used to blind and stun clusters of their enemies. Unfortunately, judging from their surprised screams, Malan’s fellows had been too slow to turn away.
Dracian wasn’t finished. Unsheathing his sword, he slashed the blade across his body, and Malan barely had time to vault clear of the sweep. He summoned another spell to his fingertips, but this time he shaped the Aether into a raw, hungering blast capable of dispersing Aetheric shields and barriers. A burst of violet energy erupted from his hands, and Dracian once again raised his shield to absorb the attack—but this time he got more than he bargained for. The paladin’s shield vanished in a flash of light, and the explosion hurled him backwards into the opposite wall.
Malan knew he had only bought himself a few seconds, and he used the time to his advantage. Reaching out to the Aether, he channeled its energy into his stunned allies. All Imperators were taught basic healing techniques in order to support their regiments, and he knew he could quickly get them back into the fight. His senses briefly merged with theirs, and with a gentle touch he swept away their pain and confusion.
Just in time. Dracian had already recovered, and he lunged back into the fray. Malan’s allies, Acton and Noakes, met the charging paladin head on. Acton, attacking from the right, smashed his sword into Dracian’s shield; Noakes, attacking from the left, went blade to blade. At a glance, it seemed like the latter’s two-handed grip would easily shatter Dracian’s defenses, but the paladin wasn’t defeated so easily. With an impressive display of raw physical power, he deflected aside the wild chop and even shoved Noakes back on his heels.
The two men were no match for Dracian—that much was obvious just from the first few seconds of their skirmish. But Acton and Noakes were Crell soldiers, and that meant they had been rigorously trained to buy their Imperator time with their lives, if necessary. Malan had options. He could draw his own sword and enter the fray, but he was half the paladin’s size and had no delusions of winning in a straight-up fight, even three against one. He had a crossbow too, but he ran the risk of shooting his allies in the back, and he doubted his weapon’s ability to penetrate the man’s armor—either his conventional suit or his ward of protective energy—anyway. No, this battle would be won or lost with his ability to channel the Aether. As long as his men occupied the knight’s attention, eventually he would get the opportunity to strike. Dracian knew it too; Malan could see it in the man’s eyes.
Taking a step back, Malan summoned another surge of raw power into his hands…and then he patiently waited for the opportunity to strike.
The melee in front of him was furious. Acton and Noakes pressed from either side, doing their best to split Dracian’s concentration. Malan might not have been an exceptional swordsman, but he was competent enough to appreciate the movements. The paladin was a rough fighter, clearly used to winning with sheer force, pounding through the defenses of his adversaries. But he was adept enough to realize he was flanked, and he began a coordinated attack on Noakes meant to drive the man back—the paladin wanted to position himself in a corner, so that he could keep his enemies in front of him and limit their advantage.
Noakes didn’t take the bait. He stood his ground, driving his blade in quick but brutal attacks to use his double-grip leverage. Acton took quick slashes when the paladin extended, usually catching the man’s shield but sometimes striking armor or flesh. It was a patient, measured attack, but it would ultimately wear Dracian down and get them a killing blow.
Finally the paladin overextended with a shield block, and Malan took his chance. He discharged an Aetheric blast straight into Dracian’s chest, and the beleaguered knight had no chance to respond. The violet bolt hammered squarely into his torso, knocking him backwards and off-balance. Without the protection of his own magic, Dracian would have been dead, but regardless he was still visibly weakened. Sooner or later Malan would score a clean hit, and the battle would be over.
Seeing his opponent staggered, Acton pressed his attack. A quick but solid blow slammed Dracian’s sword out of the way, and Acton attempted to cleave off this opponent’s head with his backswing. But just before the blade cut into flesh, Dracian dropped to his right knee and thrust his shoulder upwards. Acton’s sword slashed against the knight’s shoulder armor and drew forth a stream of blood.
Noakes pressed at almost the same moment. With Dracian’s defenses buckling, the Crell soldier slashed directly at the knight’s blade, smacking it out of his grip and sending it clattering across the floor.
For all intents and purposes, the fight was over. Dracian was battered, bloodied, and now weaponless. Smiling, Malan released his second blast of energy—
And in that instant, he suddenly understood why he had been warned to never underestimate a Knight of the Last Dawn. The moment the bolt left Malan’s fingertips, Dracian, extended far to his right to deflect Noakes, reached up and smacked the man in the back of t
he knee with his now empty right hand. It was a miraculous feat of strength and timing, and Noakes, off-balance from his strike, had no way to avoid it. His body crumpled forward, directly in front of his enemy….and Malan’s blast hit him squarely in the chest.
The horrified shriek cut off almost immediately as the Aetheric energy fused his armor into his flesh and then disintegrated both. His limbs and their armor—now sans torso—clattered to the ground. Using the confusion to his advantage, Dracian rolled away, retrieved his sword, and then hopped back to his feet.
“No one else has to die,” he said in a deep baritone voice. His face was contorted in pain, but somehow he seemed to have caught his second wind.
Acton was staggered and horrified at the brutal death of his partner, but his training eventually took hold of him. He held his blade upright, ready to take on the paladin alone if he needed to. Malan, for his part, reached into the Aether yet again, and crackling, violet strands of energy danced across his body and fingertips.
“You’re right,” Malan said. “Drop your weapon, paladin, and I will be merciful.”
Dracian let out a heavy sigh. “You’re being manipulated by a demon. Whatever it has told you is a lie.”
Malan blinked. “A demon? That’s really all you can come up with? I thought paladins didn’t lie?”
“I don’t want to kill you,” Dracian said, taking a menacing step forward. “But I will. Now surrender…this is your last warning.”
Malan’s eyes narrowed. He had a clear shot right now—if he could overpower the paladin’s defenses with a quick spell, the fight would be over here and now. Dracian would be expecting that, though, and without the distraction of a blade in his face, he could probably survive it. Perhaps there was another way. Acton was at the ready, waiting for a signal from his superior….
“You know we can’t just surrender to you,” Malan said.
“Let me find the demon,” Dracian said. “He’s possessing one of your troops. Once he’s destroyed, we can go our separate ways and you can make a report to your superiors.”
“Report what, that we let an enemy of the state escape custody right in front of us?” Malan sneered. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the cloud of smoke in the back of the room continued to thicken; most of the room was stone, but his initial blast had ignited stray bits of cloth and wood. Soon the fire would probably spread in earnest.
“I am not your enemy,” Dracian repeated. “I am not here to battle Crell—I am here to root out demons and nothing else. You have my word.”
Malan studied the other man for a moment. His skin and eyes were dark and wearied, and the gray on his beard suggested he was well past middle age. It made his physical exertions all the more impressive.
“Fine,” Malan said, releasing his hold on the Aether. The energy swirling around him instantly dissipated. “What would you have us do?”
Acton glanced back at him like his commander had just gone insane, but he still held his ground. More importantly, however, the paladin’s guard seemed to drop.
And in that moment, Malan struck.
Reaching out with the Aether, he telekinetically grabbed onto the pile of debris in the back of the room and hurled the flaming chunks directly at Dracian’s back. The paladin was fast—his shimmering shield returned to his arm almost instantly, and he managed to deflect the worst of the bombardment. But Malan didn’t relent. With a second push, he hurled a volley of debris from below his own feet straight into the paladin’s torso. The assault wasn’t meant to kill him or even really wound him, but it did give Acton time to lunge forward in an attack.
Malan smiled even as another storm of energy gathered at his fingertips. One way or another, Dracian was going to die.
***
The demon was impossibly strong. Even with her sword skewering through his gut, Elade still couldn’t pry him off no matter how much she struggled. His host body would be dead in a few moments, but so would she; her vision was already starting to blur, and her arms were growing tired and limp.
“Open yourself to me,” the demon said, blood dripping from his mouth onto her face scarf. “There is so much I can teach you….”
Elade should have been dead already. If he possessed this kind of strength, he could have easily crushed her throat already. But he wasn’t trying to kill her—he just wanted to weaken her enough to possess her. And so instead of struggling, she released her grip and relaxed.
“Yes,” he rasped, “yes, just relax. Submit, and I will show you a new reality you never thought possible…
He lifted his left hand above her forehead. Pinpricks of red light seared behind the host body’s green eyes, and Elade could sense the demon’s hunger growing. Sneering wickedly, he lowered the hand against her flesh.
“Now, scream for me, vaeyn!” he hissed. “Give me your torment! Give me your—”
The demon shrieked in agony and retracted his hand. His flesh seared away in a brilliant blue-white pyre, and he watched in horror as his fingers crumbled to ash before him. With his grip abruptly broken, Elade clenched her teeth and drove her palms into his chest. The demon flew backwards, and she shifted her body weight and flipped back to her feet in a single, smooth motion.
“No!” the demon shrieked. “How is this possible? How…”
His voice trailed off as the purifying flame spread from his arms to his torso. Soon he was completely immolated, and Elade stepped forward and removed her right gauntlet. The glyphs on her gray flesh glowed a brilliant blue as the long-dormant power coursed through them, and she reached down and grabbed the handle of her sword.
Too late, the demon realized its mistake. Like fire spreading across a slick of oil, the crackling Aetheric energy streaked from her body and into the blade before erupting in the demon’s chest. This time it wasn’t even able to scream; within seconds its entire body had disintegrated into a smoldering pile of ash.
Taking in a deep breath, Elade spun back around to face the other two Crell soldiers. They were gaping up at her, their faces a mixture of confusion, horror, and pain. She had managed to disable them without seriously wounding them, but unfortunately their Bound commander had taken a tumble out the window when she had hit him with her shield.
“Tell your superiors you have a serious problem,” she said. “This was only one demon; I’m certain there are many more.”
Turning back to the open window, she focused on her link with Tevek; it only took a moment to realize that he was too distracted to send her his direct thoughts. She could shadow walk down to him almost instantly, but without knowing the location of the combatants, she might appear in an awkward position and make the situation even worse. No, she would have to descend the conventional way—for a paladin, anyway.
Stepping forward, Elade touched the Aether and summoned a pair of soft, glowing wings to her back. The strands of energy folded out across the room, and she took another deep breath before leaping out the window.
***
Tevek raised his shield against the onslaught of flaming debris. The Aetheric disc sparked and crackled as it repelled the assault, but some of the shrapnel inevitably slipped past and stabbed into his lower body. Most of the bits weren’t hurled with enough force to penetrate his armor or inflict any serious damage, but that wasn’t the Imperator’s intention; this was all just a distraction meant to split Tevek’s concentration. And unfortunately, it was working—slowly but surely, he was losing ground to the Crell soldier who was slicing and thrusting away.
Fatigue was also quickly setting in. Tevek’s body hurt like hell; he had at least three bolts partially lodged into him, and his shoulder had been gashed wide open. Through his link to his partner, he could sense that Elade was also in mortal danger. She might not be able to defeat the demon alone.
Which meant that one way or another, Tevek needed to end this skirmish right now.
Lifting his blade, he narrowly parried away the soldier’s latest attack before it hacked off his arm. He stagg
ered backwards, but the Crell man was actually worse off: he had massively overextended, and Tevek made him pay. Shifting his center of gravity, the paladin smashed his shield into the younger man’s side and sent him toppling over to the floor.
The Imperator pounced on the sudden opening. He let loose a double volley of disruptive Aetheric energy, but this time Tevek was ready. He swung his shield back around quickly enough to catch both blasts on its surface. The shimmering disc crackled and nearly dissipated entirely beneath the assault, and there was no way it could absorb another. But that was all right—Tevek only needed it for one final maneuver.
With a guttural roar, the paladin stepped forward and hurled the shield directly at the Imperator’s torso. In panic, the man tried to dive clear, but he was too slow. The disc smashed into his chest and knocked him flat to the ground before vanishing back into the Aether.
“I’ve no desire to kill you,” Tevek said as he stepped over the Imperator and switched to a two-handed grip on his blade. “Don’t be foolish.”
Mercifully, both men finally seemed willing to concede defeat. The Crell soldier rolled to his feet, but he didn’t retrieve his weapon. The Imperator, for his part, just remained still.
I’m coming to you, Elade’s voice said directly into his head. Through their link, he could sense that her trepidation had transformed into concern. Just hold on.
I’m all right, he soothed.
A moment later, a sword-wielding figure appeared in the smoke-covered doorway in the back of the room. A pair of glowing, Aetheric wings sprouted from her back, and the shadows parted at her footsteps. Her tunic was covered in blood.
The Godswar Saga (Omnibus) Page 30