The same could not be said in reverse, as Artemia sliced the left arm of both Eric and Abe. Neither cut proved debilitating, but the battle favored Artemia early.
“Face it, you both shall not survive today,” Artemia said. “Consider it a blessing both of you have lived this long. Lay your arms down now and I will let you die quickly.”
“Another lie,” Abe said. “When will your lies end, Artemia?”
“As soon as your naive hopes do, Abraham,” Artemia snapped.
Enough!
“Your lies end here with your life,” Eric said.
“You will join your family in hell!” Artemia shouted.
All three hunters roared as the battle to the death continued.
***
“Stay back!” Zelda yelled as the other three magi had started to make their way down. Even though she was by far the youngest, with the power she had, Zelda felt compelled to take control of the situation. It didn’t hurt that she also had the essence of Indica with her, enhancing her already superlative powers. “Let’s take this thing out. Let Eric and Abe fight Artemia.”
Tetra gave her a knowing smile. All smiles faded when the blue-skinned woman came into view. Though she did not possess height greater than an average woman, her aura spoke to the extreme danger she presented the hunters.
“I am Shiva, the goddess of all ice and water.”
No you’re not, Zelda thought, steeling her body for battle. Indica is. You only exist because Eric didn’t realize what he was doing and Artemia is evil.
“All become still before me. All enter into eternal slumber before me. All perish. You have sought to stop my master from accomplishing her goals. And for that, you shall die!”
As she shouted her last word, she unleashed a massive wall of ice that froze whatever stood in front of its way. Zelda quickly cast a countering fire spell that knocked out the majority of the wall, though her spell could not spread out to protect Yeva in time, who stood the furthest away. Yeva, her mouth open in a battle cry, her hands forward to cast a spell, and her eyebrows scrunched in anger, did not move.
Zelda quickly ran over and tried to melt the ice off of Yeva, but none of it worked.
“I told you, I am the goddess of all that is ice and water. Only my death shall release the bonds of her ice. She will die within minutes.”
No. No. No!!!
Zelda felt something she hadn’t felt since she had left Dabira. Sheer, uncontrolled rage. She tried to remember that she had to control it before things became too dangerous, but that balancing act wouldn’t be easy. She could remain on the positive side for right now, but not for much longer.
For Yeva. I will save you. You die, Shiva!
“Die!” Tetra screamed.
Good. Someone else feels how I do.
But when Tetra fired a blast of fire at Shiva, it emerged far weaker than what Zelda had remembered from her. Romarus joined in, and while their combined fire managed to chase Shiva off for a period, it became obvious too quickly that Zelda would have to carry the battle. It’s why I have my power. I will use my power for good and stop this monster. I will save Yeva.
“Pathetic, this is what the magi have to offer?” Shiva said, taunting the two elder magi. “In my day, the magi had real power. Yours was a force to be reckoned with. But now, it seems, your time has faded. Your powers go weaker as the ages go by.”
“Zelda,” Tetra said.
“I know,” Zelda said. “Wait for it to come back. When it moves in, all of us strike together. One force. It’s how we will win.”
“I knew you were wise,” Romarus said.
“But now you must perish, as punishment for your crimes against my master!”
Shiva, hovering about thirty feet from the magi, leaned back, her body arching away from the magi.
“You want to strike now?” Tetra asked.
But something about how Shiva moved made Zelda believe her attack would come like Bahamut’s. She seemed poised to charge for a massive attack, but perhaps that attack would fatigue her and make her more vulnerable.
“Not yet,” Zelda said. “Let her expend her energy. Hunker down and prepare to defend yourself. I will help as best as I can. Come close.”
The two magi gathered as tightly as they could to Zelda without touching her. Shiva seemed to delight in the change of events.
“You gather close, making my task easy!” Shiva shouted, her voice becoming more distorted by the second. Zelda squatted as she prepared to defend herself and the two magi with as much defense as she could muster.
“Die!”
At that moment, swords made of ice shot forth from Shiva, a thousand blades of icy death flying toward the magi. A split second after that, Zelda created a wall of fire and pushed it forward. Her rage made the flames erupt like a tsunami wave, swallowing any attack that came her way.
She didn’t even feel fatigue. She could feel the power of Indica pushing her, propping her up, ensuring that no amount of magical expenditure would cost her anything. She felt all but invincible.
It didn’t work perfectly. One of the blades came through, clipping Zelda’s arm. Though it had melted enough, the speed and friction of the sword created a small ice burn on her arm.
But after about a dozen seconds, no more ice magic came. Zelda dropped the fire spell. On the other side, Shiva had fallen to the ground, down on one knee.
“You think we have gotten weaker, but instead, we have gotten smarter,” Zelda said.
But she heard a weak grunt behind her. She turned and gasped. Her spell had not worked as she had hoped.
“No. Romarus.”
***
While the battle of humans raged on the ground, in the heavens, Ifrit, the closest living thing to Iblis, and Bahamut, the fatigued embodiment of Chrystos, waged a great battle befitting the status of the gods each stood for.
Ifrit’s fires, brought from the furthest depths of hell, shot at the king of kings. Bahamut’s sheer power and size, meanwhile, served as a worthy opposition, deflecting the flames and sometimes reflecting them back at the demon.
Had Odin not sacrificed himself for his master, Ifrit would have perished in the attack. Bahamut would have won, and the world would have continued as it had.
But the knight’s sacrifice meant that Bahamut had weakened. This would not go down as an easy fight for Bahamut. In fact, depending on who else joined it, it would not go down as a guaranteed victory. Ifrit had seemed to have gained a boost from surviving the first round, and came at the dragon with a fury.
Bahamut used his wings and came to the sky, blasting fire and swiping at it with its sharp tail. The demon dodged the attacks with some difficulty as it scampered on the ground like a cockroach with the sun in its eyes. When Bahamut came too high even for the great Ifrit to leap, it took to the mountains, scaling it like a spider.
Once it had enough height, it launched itself at Bahamut. The great dragon held its arms and wings back, as if daring the manifestation of Iblis to come and attack it. In that moment, Ifrit, perhaps a couple hundred feet in the air, and Bahamut, also at the same height, fought a battle no man, no magi, no other beast could ever hope to achieve. They fought as gods would, for nothing without the status of gods would have engaged in such a legendary battle.
Ifrit tackled Bahamut and began driving it down to the ground. With a swipe, its claws cut at the dragon’s hide.
Bahamut, in turn, gathered itself and lifted Ifrit high into the clouds. The demon held tightly and continued clawing, but unlike its previous dragon victims, Bahamut had a thick hide that would not so easily rip before an enemy. Certainly, it suffered pain, as evidenced by its cries and the greatness of Ifrit’s power, but to declare it the difference in battle felt premature.
Soon, the altitude became a problem. Both beasts had ascended above the peak of the mountain. At this height, nearly all of Hydor was visible. If one had the vision, one could see the small town of Mathos, even if flying there would take several minutes.
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Ifrit’s fire began to weaken with the lack of air. It resorted to physical force, but that, too, had weakened with the elevation. Bahamut, on the other hand, had practice raising to the heavens. It had taken the fight to its true territory.
They continued rising, going up, up, and up, until they had gotten so high that the sky lost its blue hue and the stars of the night became visible. Down below, the continents of Hydor became visible. Lands and places that man didn’t even know yet existed became visible.
Ifrit gasped for breath. Its grip weakened, and with a quick turn, Bahamut threw it off its chest, letting the gravity of Hydor take over. Ifrit felt its strength returning as it fell to the ground, but before it could act upon that newfound energy, Bahamut unleashed a beam of energy that drove it even faster into the ground. Try as it might, Ifrit could not escape.
The two came thundering down, visible to the humans on the ground. Those humans knew the impact would produce devastating effects, but at this point, the war had shifted from man versus dragon to god versus god, or at least the living incarnations of those gods.
Ifrit, still suffering the attack of Bahamut, glanced down. It would crash into the earth in a matter of seconds. Bracing itself, it curled up, trying to make sure its plates of armor would collide with the ground first. It did not know if it would survive the impact, but by the grace of Iblis, it would find a way.
When the two monsters hit the ground, the resulting impact created a dust cloud so high it reached the clouds and obscured the vision of all humans.
***
“You actually think you ever stood a chance against me,” Artemia said.
Her words, designed to taunt and mentally weaken Eric, stood no chance against the young dragon hunter. Perhaps, in a different setting, in a different time, the words of his former master would have provoked him.
But he had died before at her hand and come back. What would death mean to him now? Nothing she said could break him.
“And you actually think you ever had a chance of winning this war,” Eric shot back. “You thought you could defeat Bahamut. It would seem to me that even with Ifrit, you stand little chance.”
“Silence!” Artemia said, and Eric knew he’d found a weak point. Her entire battle is a weak point. She’s unraveling before our very eyes.
“All your life, you’ve sought to destroy Bahamut,” Eric said as blades clashed. Abe tried to get in, but Artemia retreated and used angles effectively to keep Eric between her and Abe. “It’s your sole purpose for existing. The sole reason you fight. And now it’s going to fail.”
Artemia screamed as she raised her blade over her head for a chop. Eric deflected it easily and kicked Artemia to the ground. He charged at her, looking for the kill, but she rolled away and got to her feet easily.
“I told you, you stand no chance,” Artemia said. “Even if you manage to get a lucky hit on me. You know, your mother drew blood from me too. She died. How does that make you feel, Eric? How does it feel to know your mother perished at my blade?”
“I have seen it already,” he responded.
But deep within the recesses of his mind, in a part that Eric wanted to become all-encompassing, all-consuming rage rose up. So far into this battle, he’d managed to hold it off, but he did not know if he could withstand it forever.
“Your mother screamed as I twisted the blade in her heart,” Artemia said.
Eric remained poised, keeping his hands stable and his sword at the ready.
“Fine.Let me tell you what happened to your sister.”
Eric went silent. Stay calm. She will lie. Stay calm.
“When I came to her, she begged for you.”
Don’t you dare.
“She pleaded for her big brother to come. ‘Eric! Help! Eric!’ she screamed as I dragged her out of her bed. But you were resting in Mathos, because you were a coward.”
“Don’t listen to her, Eric,” Abe said. “She’s lying.”
“Am I?” Artemia said. “Who killed little Rey? ‘Eric, please!’ she screamed as I lifted my blade.”
The mocking of his little sister’s voice turned that rage from a controlled part of him into a cascade of flooding that wanted to break free—and only needed just a little more power to break through the dam of his self-control.
“I told her you were never coming, Eric, and you know why? Because you were too easily controlled then, just as you are now.”
Then she smiled.
“I took great delight in watching her utter her last words. She said—”
But before Artemia could finish, Eric’s rage consumed him. He did not become a stoic warrior, or even an enraged warrior. He became something like a demon in human form. The crystal, flaring with power, turned Eric’s sword into a steel fire. His eyes might as well have turned red for the rage he felt.
“Now you’re a fighter!” Artemia said.
You die. You die. You die!
Eric charged at Artemia, his technique dissolving in favor of sheer brute force. This made him easier to exploit, but Artemia had not anticipated the level of power that Eric would acquire in that moment. At one point, he rose to do an overhead chop much as Artemia had before. Artemia easily blocked it, but the force of the blow dropped her to her knees, and she had to roll out to escape.
“Perhaps I underestimated you, boy,” Artemia said.
You always have. You die! Die! Die!
“But I know one way to get you out of this rage. I know who you love that still lives.”
With a smirk, she invited him to charge. Without blinking, he did.
But instead of engaging him, she slid past him and made a beeline for Abe, who had stood to the side as Eric reached a new level of fury. Abe nodded, as if having anticipated this moment, and raised his sword.
Eric sought a way to his former master, but Artemia’s skill in battle meant that Abe could never get out of the way enough. He gave serious thought to just pushing his elder aside and killing Artemia, if that’s what it took.
The inability to engage Artemia had a negative side effect she had anticipated. It reduced Eric’s anger, making him more frustrated. It diminished the rush of adrenaline that he had acquired. Rage of the demonic level made him unstoppable. Frustration made him exploitable.
“You can’t win, Artemia,” Abe said. “If you defeat us, even if you defeat Bahamut, you won’t control the chaos you unleash. And that’s if you conquer all of us. Every other scenario leaves you dead.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Abraham,” Artemia said. “I thrive in the chaos. You may think of me as an orderly person to a fault, but it is chaos that I have lived in my whole life. Chaos with Auron. Chaos in the guild. And chaos on our hunts.”
Then she smirked.
“But you have the opposite problem. You are orderly. You seek to have clear reasons for all actions. And that gives you a fatal flaw.”
Move! Give me a shot! Abe! Move!
“You’re predictable.”
Abe came in with a swing, but Artemia deflected it easily. She then leaned forward, headbutted him, and stunned Abe.
“Abe!” Eric screamed.
Artemia took her sword and drove it through Abe’s chest.
“NO!” Eric screamed.
Time seemed to slow. The noise around him quieted. All that existed in his world was Artemia and his falling friend.
His rage consuming him, he charged and tackled Artemia to the ground. His sword having clattered to the side and her sword in Abe, Eric resorted to punching Artemia to attack. He pounded her with fists upon her ugly face. Even if she lived, he wanted her to have a face that matched the ugliness within her.
He bloodied her face. He bloodied her nose. Her eyes swelled. Her lips swelled. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
Finally, with one last punch, he knocked her out cold. He spat on her and cursed her name. He stood and gave one last kick in the ribs.
He looked to the heavens just in time to see Bahamut a
nd Ifrit colliding into the ground at breakneck speed. He shielded his eyes as the impact knocked him to the ground, causing the ground to quake, and the dust tried to blind him. He came to his knees as the groans of Ifrit and Bahamut emerged from the other side. He quickly spotted Abe and crawled over to him. He had no way of knowing what to do, so he did the only thing that made sense—he yanked the sword out of Abe’s chest.
“Lucky… shot,” Abe said with a weak laugh. But whenever he laughed, blood spewed from his mouth. Blood seeped out of his wound, pouring onto the ground.
“Stay quiet,” Eric said. “Let me get one of the magi. They can—”
But Abe, seemingly with all of his strength, grabbed at Eric’s arm, gripping with a trembling hand.
“They still engage in battle with the monsters,” he said. “Let them fight. That is their battle.”
“But then you’ll die. I don’t know how to help you. But the magi, they can, they…”
Abe gave a weak smile.
“That is quite all right,” he said. “I… I have seen what I sought to make happen. I saw you become a man. A leader.”
No, no, no. I’m not a leader. You are, Abe. You’ve led me your whole life.
“I’m only sixteen,” Eric said.
If disproving Abe’s point kept him alive just a little longer…
“And I’m forty years older and half the leader… you are,” Abe said.
Eric felt his eyes well as he clasped his hand around Abe’s. Abe’s grip weakened with each passing moment. Eric looked to the magi, easily too far of a run. Chaotic magic engulfed their battle. He could never get one of them.
“Eric.” The young boy turned his attention back to Abe, whose eyes and lips fluttered. “Lead this world. Fight for justice… and…”
He gave a rattle of a cry. His head tilted back. His eyes closed.
“Abe, no, no, no, you can’t, you can’t, Abe!”
And then Abe died.
“Abe!”
Eric didn’t bother begging with the hope that he could save Abe. The wound he had suffered, the lack of magi help around, and the pressing issue of a still-raging battle meant he could do nothing to save Abe.
Legends of the War (War of the Magi Book 3) Page 25