by Riley Storm
Training must now solely be about just that: training. He could afford no more distractions, no more accidental locked gazes. No more flirting in the library. None of it. Christine must not get any impression that there was anything going on between them.
“This is good,” Damien was saying. “You need something like this. Something to help you reconnect to the world. To merge back with it.”
Altair knew his friend was trying to help, but the very words he was speaking were leaving him terrified. He couldn’t let himself care about her, about anything. Not now, not ever again.
People who cared about him, who he cared about, ended up trusting him. And people who trusted him, ended up dead. Like the children on the streets of Allicean.
“Thank you,” he said, interrupting whatever Damien was going to say next. “For tonight, I appreciate that.”
“Don’t mention it,” Damien said, patting him on the back as they arrived at his door. “It’s fine.”
Altair nodded and opened his room.
“Try to get some rest, okay?”
“I’ll try,” he said, knowing that it was an empty promise. Altair would be up for hours now, until the next day dawned.
“And also,” Damien added, placing a hand on the door to stop it from closing as Altair went inside. “I want you to know that I hope you find it in you to try it again.”
“Try what again?” he asked, confused.
“Living. Having a life. Opening up to people. I worry about you Altair, about how checked-out you’ve been lately. I know it’s not easy, but I believe you can do this. And I’m here to help. Whatever it takes. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
“Got it. Thanks,” he said weakly, and closed the door, unable to face the storm dragon any longer.
It wasn’t stupid, what he was ready to do, if it happened. Saving everyone else, there was nothing stupid about that. It was what he should have done in Allicean but hadn’t. Now, if it came down to it, Altair was ready to do it for the people around him now.
He wouldn’t hesitate this time.
Chapter Twenty
Christine
The demon bellowed and swung its axe mightily. A killing blow, it descended on the group.
Green energy blossomed to life as it struck the impervious shield dome. Christine smiled grimly, waiting for the command. Seven of them waited under its protection. Like the day before, they had lost one of their number, though this time it was Vanessa, who had been just a bit too slow at the appearance of the demon, who had struck with surprise this time from the side.
“Now!” Maddison Gardener snapped.
The witches broke apart. Three of them went on the attack against the demon.
Three continued to hold their magic in reserve, ready to pour it into the shield if things went south.
Altair bellowed a challenge and lightning shot from his fingertips as he struck at the demonic creatures surrounding the band of witches. Bodies withered and died as he unleashed hell on the magical constructs.
“Shield!” Gardener barked.
All offense attacks ceased immediately. The witches poured their energy into the dome, and the demon’s axe smashed down against it ineffectively once more.
“Again!” the witch commanded.
They broke apart, and more creatures died under Altair’s attack. Ready with her staff, Christine was part of the shield section.
Altair was mowing them down like a scythe. The creatures fell with ease, and he cleared them away, keeping the witches safe. After their third regroup and attack, no more came. He had bought them time.
“Everyone, attack. Altair, hit it in the knee!”
The witches all faced the demon and unleashed their magic, battering the powerful creature.
Altair darted outward, swift as the wind, then angled in sharply. His accelerated form hit the back of the demon’s knee just as it started to put all the weight on it. The joint crumpled and Altair poured lightning into the crack in its skin.
The thunderous roar of pain told her that he’d hurt it. Badly. The witches renewed their attacks, and the demon started to come apart at the seams.
Altair reached skyward and lightning slashed down into one of the biggest openings. The demon shuddered, and then burst apart and collapsed, melting into the ground as the energy that had held its corporeal form together dissipated. In seconds there was nothing left.
Christine paused in surprise. They had done it, she realized. Together, they had defeated the demon. The first team to do so! She wanted to jump up and down to celebrate as the others were doing, but she only allowed herself a reserved fist pump.
The victory was bittersweet. Yes, the witches had emerged on top with only one casualty, but she hadn’t been leading them. Maddison had, and Christine was forced to admit she’d done a wonderful job of it.
They headed for the exit of the arena. This simulation was the last one of the day, and now they would regroup in one of the adjoining rooms, discuss what had and hadn’t worked. Then, she assumed, they would head to the kitchens to celebrate as a group. They weren’t ready to take on a demon lord just yet, but this was the biggest test they’d faced so far, and they’d come out ahead. Master Pinton would allow them to enjoy it for the night at least.
Then tomorrow she’s going to hit us even harder, I’m sure.
Christine was last into the hallway, her mind replaying the last battle with the demon. Everyone had held up their end. Even Altair, she was forced to admit. The dragon had been instrumental in helping them beat the demon, hitting it in ways it hadn’t expected, while also ridding them of the mindless followers that always seemed to appear with a demon’s presence on the mortal plane.
She looked around for him as the group walked, meaning to congratulate him. He’d arrived just in the last minute that morning, and he’d kept mostly to himself. She wanted to see him, to talk to him. They needed to discuss what had happened the day before, and what it meant for them.
If anything.
Yet he wasn’t part of the group. The dragons tended to stick out like sore thumbs, and Altair wasn’t with the others a few steps ahead. Nor was he behind her. Christine wondered if she had missed him rushing up the hallway, if he’d tried to leave first.
That would be like him. He’d been avoiding her and leaving before she did would make it easier for him. Pausing outside the briefing room, she conjured up a simple tracking spell to find him. They had things that needed to be talked about. She wasn’t going to let it go on for long without addressing the fact they had kissed the day before. Kissed a lot.
In her mind’s eye she pictured Altair in as much detail as she could. Her mind filled it in, thick muscles, short hair, pointed jaw and bright eyes. It began to take life as she infused it with magic, and then sent the spell questing outward, trying to find someone that matched the description.
It didn’t take long for it to register a hit. Turning in the direction it indicated, she opened her eyes to find that she was facing back down the tunnel. There wasn’t much in that direction.
Which could only mean that he was behind them still. Back in the arena.
“Now why would you be there?” she muttered to herself, turning back, slipping away from the celebration unnoticed.
What would have kept him back in the arena, she wondered, wandering back down the tunnel on her own, eager to seek him out. At least here they would be unwatched, alone. She could finally corner him without distractions and find out why he’d left so abruptly the other night. It was eating at her, trying to understand where she’d gone wrong, what she had done to scare him off.
Entering the arena, Christine was greeted with a truly horrifying sight.
Somehow, Altair had reset the program to the end. He stood there facing off against the demon on his own. He dodged its blows, using his wind powers to keep the other creatures at bay. The air swirled wildly around him, and any of the smaller beasts that got close were picked up and hurled away by the tornad
o-like entity.
“What are you doing?” she whispered to herself as lightning flashed, striking the demon.
“Now you die!” Altair bellowed, rushing forward. “No one else will you kill while I stand by doing nothing!”
Lightning flared. Air shrieked, and Christine watched in horror. The wind caught the demon’s axe and ripped it from its hands. Altair caught the mighty weapon and swung it with both hands like a tree trunk. The blade sliced open the demon’s belly before it snatched its weapon back.
Altair dove for the wound, and Christine screamed as he disappeared inside the creature. Lightning shot down from the sky, impaling the demon over and over. There was no way Altair could contain this much!
Then the demon exploded in half, the torso toppling forward, while the rear end simply collapsed to the ground, spilling a limp, unmoving form out from it. Christine’s hands held to her mouth as she recognized the magically infused immobility that indicated the participant in the simulation had died.
Altair had sacrificed himself to kill the demon.
Worst of all, it had worked.
Chapter Twenty-One
Altair
He lay still for several moments, contemplating everything that had just happened.
First, his plan had worked.
The many hours of research had finally paid off. It had taken him some time to figure out just what it was that Master Erlinger had done so differently, that had allowed her to single-handedly banish a demon lord back to the Abyss. Given that only a handful of people had witnessed it, and the exact actions had occurred within the span of a few seconds, it hadn’t been easy. Piecing together the information from accounts that were three-hundred years old had been tedious, to say the least.
Eventually, he’d figured out that she must have breached its skin somehow. The physical form demons took on the mortal plane were incredibly tough, and no matter how much energy he flung at it, nothing worked. That was when he’d stumbled upon a bit of information that tickled his mind into thinking about attacking from a different direction. Inside.
And if it worked on this demon, it should work on a demon lord. They’re apparently not much different, other than size, strength and speed.
The second thing that Altair contemplated, was the sound of footsteps heading his direction. He wasn’t alone in the chamber as he’d expected to be. Who else was there? It was supposed to be unmanned this late in the day; he’d checked the schedule.
The spell that bound him to immobility faded as the arena finished shutting down, telling him that he was no longer ‘dead’, as the simulation viewed it.
He glanced around as the landscape disappeared, revealing nothing but the empty, flat arena.
And Christine.
Damn. Why her?
Getting to his feet, he brushed his clothes off from where he’d been lying.
“Can I help you?” he asked, stealing the initiative before she’d had a chance to speak.
She sputtered in surprise, trying to both answer him and speak whatever line she’d had ready to go. It tripped her up so badly, that nothing but a bunch of gibberish came out of her mouth.
“Do go on,” he said, earning himself a glare that would have pinned him to the wall several hundred feet away if it had been a physical thing.
“What the heck was that, Altair?” she finally got out.
He shrugged. “That was me testing a theory. Nothing more.”
“A theory. So, like, an experiment?” she asked, hands on her hips, staring up at him incredulously.
“Yes. Precisely like that. You told me this place was designed to replicate the real world. To mimic how creatures from the Abyss act and react, based on all knowledge over hundreds of years.”
Christine nodded. “It’s a lot of work, so many spells cast atop one another, records being updated with each new encounter. It’s one of the biggest drains on our resources. But that doesn’t matter to what you just did. I saw you, Altair. I watched you.”
“Well I didn’t ask you to spy on me,” he fired back.
“What did you scream at the end there?” she asked softly, her anger fading. “Talk to me, Altair.”
He almost told her. The pull to open up, to reveal everything, was so strong. There was a part of him that wasn’t able to resist her. The longer he spent around Christine, the stronger that part grew. Altair had to do something about it, and soon. He bit down on his lip, focusing on the pain, using that to keep his mind clear. It helped, but he could still feel the mysterious tug of Christine through it.
I can’t get close to her. I can’t. She deserves to live.
“I have to go,” he said awkwardly, and went to step around her to head for the exit.
But Christine was quicker. She sidestepped into his path, putting her between him and his goal.
“Don’t do this,” he growled unhappily. “You can’t stop me. We both know that.”
“If you wanted to go,” she said quietly. “You’d already be gone. We both know that,” she added, mocking him. “You want to stay. You want to talk.”
“Of course, I want to,” he hissed, the words leaking out before he could stop himself. Altair shook his head. “But I can’t. I won’t. Not to you. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“Just tell me what’s going on,” she pleaded. “Please.”
“Let me leave,” he rumbled, looking above her head, knowing that if he locked her straight on, the feeling to confide in her would possibly grow stronger than he could resist.
“You can leave once I know whether or not I can trust you do be the Altair that I saw earlier, the team player, or if that was just an act and you’re just biding your time to do enact some crazy plan like what I just witnessed you do there.” Christine straightened, still only coming to his chin, but it was a bold act of defiance.
Altair hesitated.
“If it’s the latter, Altair, then you’re off the team,” she said quietly. “You’ll be staying at Winterspell, with the rest of the dragons. I can’t have someone on the team who puts themselves above the team.”
His jaw dropped open. “What are you talking about? I will stop the demon lord so that none of you are hurt. How is that anything but putting the team before myself?”
“Because you’re more focused on yourself than you are the team. Your own words just said so, Altair. ‘I will stop the demon lord’. You don’t care about the rest of the team, about helping them stop an enemy. You only care about doing it yourself, so that you can go out in a blaze of glory. You want to end up like Master Erlinger. Remembered for generations.”
“I do not,” he snarled. “That has nothing at all to do with my actions.”
“So, you do admit to taking them then,” she said triumphantly. “I knew it was all leaning toward you making a dumb move. Earlier with the team, that just felt too good to be true.”
She took a step toward him.
Altair stepped back. He couldn’t have her closer. For every inch the distance between them shrank, the desire to throw himself into her arms grew exponentially. He wasn’t weak, but after so long of isolating himself from everyone, it was tempting, even though he knew how devastating it would be for everyone involved.
“What’s it going to be, Altair? Team player, or self-absorbed personal play? Just tell me. I’ll go talk to Circe. She’ll pull you from the team. It’s easy.”
He shook his head. “No, she won’t. She wants to foster relations between us. Not appear to be alienating us after I went and volunteered for the mission.”
Christine shook her head. “I used to think that too, you know. The first time you did something selfish, I was considering the options with you, and I ruled out going to Circe. But I’ve thought about it some more, and realized I forgot one critical thing. Circe cares more about protecting us, than she does being close to you. If she thinks having you along is going to be a liability, she’ll stop it.”
Altair shook his head. “I doubt it.”
“Oh, trust me,” Christine said forcefully. “If she thinks that having you on the team is going to get others killed, she’ll stop it in a moment.”
His eyes went wide, and he backed away. “That’s not going to happen!” he shouted. “That’s exactly why I’m doing this, so it doesn’t happen!”
Christine stepped forward again. He stepped back, but she kept coming.
“Why are you so eager to leave, Altair? To be gone. You’re abandoning Winterspell. Earth. The dragons and your life. You’re abandoning me.”
He stopped in his tracks.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Christine
That last part wasn’t supposed to come out. The moment it left her lips, Christine knew she’d just crossed a line between them.
Kissing in the library was one thing. It could be ignored as purely physical. A momentary lapse in judgement, nothing more. This though, her voicing her fears that he was going to leave her, was something more. It indicated forethought. About him.
Now you’ve really gone and done it.
The words were spoken now though, and she was surprised at how badly she wanted the answer. Yes, he’d been on her mind lately, but somehow, she’d not recognized that for what it was, instead thinking it was purely about the team, about training. Somehow, she’d managed to deny to herself that she was thinking about him because she wanted to.
All of their interactions so far had been bickering with one another though. Well, except for the library makeout session, but that was, again, a physical lapse in restraint. Little more.
Or was it?
“Anyway, my question still stands about the team,” she tried to say, but Altair shook his head.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
She knew what he was referring to.
“Are you going to be a team player, or do I have to get Circe involved?” she said, stating the two options.
“That’s not what I meant,” Altair told her softly, but firmly. “And you know it.”