David Dalglish - The Death of Promises

Lightning crackled around his hands, painfully bright. One of the lions spotted them and roared. Harruq turned, his swords drawn and his hands shaking. Aurelia’s spell had done much to banish the unnatural fear from the aberration in the sky, but his normal fear went untamed. It grew when all six of the creatures turned and belched fire toward them. The awesome display nearly broke his spirit.

Aurelia latched onto his arm, a spell on her lips.

“There,” she said. “You will be protected from the fire again. And don’t run on me, Harruq Tun. Don’t you dare run.”

He faced the lions, which approached in a tight pack of power and muscle.

“I won’t,” he said.

As one the spellcasters unleashed blasts of ice and lightning. The front lions dodged, but those behind were knocked back. More blasts followed, and then came boulders of earth and ice, cones of air, and invisible walls of magic. Harruq watched the display, awed and humbled by Aurelia’s and Tarlak’s power. His swords felt small and useless in his hands by comparison. The lions shook their heads from side to side and endured the brutal hits, using their giant mass and momentum to continue forward. The three would be crushed.

“Not in vain,” Harruq whispered, hoping he could keep such a promise.

Tarlak tried to lift one of the lions off the ground with a brute levitation spell, but the creature resisted. The wizard collapsed to his knees, exhausted. Aurelia fired lances of ice, but they were small compared to the previous barrage. Harruq stepped forward, prepared to sacrifice his life to give them time to escape. He was never given the chance.

A swirling beam of light twice the size of any man screamed between he and Tarlak. It struck the foremost lion, enveloping its entire body in pure magical essence. The power tore its skin and shattered its bones. A second beam followed, and this time the lions had no choice but to retreat. It struck another lion, but the creature rolled out from the blast. Melted rock poured from its nose, and its right shoulder sagged. Stunned, Harruq glanced back to see the source of the attacks.

“Tessanna,” he said, his mouth hanging open. The crazed demoness had come. Stranger still she walked between Lathaar and another man, both wearing the gleaming armor of paladins. Tarlak looked back as well, and his entire body tensed at the sight.

“How dare she,” he said, lightning crackled from his hands despite his exhaustion.

“No!” Lathaar shouted, stepping in front of the girl with the solid black eyes. The lightning had already been loosed. Mira brushed aside Lathaar as if he were a child, and then batted away the lightning with her bare hand. Tarlak’s anger flared, but then Lathaar was running, his swords drawn and light flooding the street.

“Mira!” he shouted. “Her name is Mira!”

Harruq looked to the lions, but they were observing the new power they faced. When he turned back to Mira, he realized the clothes she wore were different. Her dress was beautiful and green, tailored similar to Aurelia’s. Her skin was darker, and her whole body thicker and healthier. Again he heard Lathaar shout the name Mira.

“What the abyss is going on?” he asked.

The other man pulled his shield off his back, and the brilliant light joined Lathaar’s so that the street was bright as day. All their fear and worry faded away.

“Behind us,” the man with the shield shouted, positioning himself in front of Aurelia and Tarlak. Lathaar joined Harruq’s side, glancing at him as he did.

“We fought together once before,” Lathaar said. “Ready to do so again?”

Harruq nodded. The lions were snarling and belching fire, clearly unhappy about losing their numbers advantage.

“So who might you be,” Tarlak asked.

“Name’s Jerico of the Citadel,” the paladin said.

“Good to meet you Jerico. Try not to die on me so I can greet you properly. Oh, and don’t let me die, either.”

The wizard held in a surge of rage as Mira stood beside him. He remembered Lathaar’s words, spoken in a time that felt ages away. She could be her twin, he had said. He hadn’t been lying. The anger passed as he reminded himself, again and again, that the girl with black hair and eyes was not the murderer of his best friend.

“The demons are scared,” Mira said. She lifted her hands and let the wild magic within her pool around her fingers. “They know what I am. Even Karak fears me.” She brought down her hands as the lions charged down the street.

“Time to justify their fear.”

Aurelia and Tarlak fired twin streams of ice shards, but it was Mira’s spell that sent the lions leaping to the rooftops. A maelstrom of swirling air and magic erupted from her hands, spanning the width of the street. It sucked in the other two spells, twisting into a vortex of ice and wind. While the other lions could flee, the one with the wounded leg only whimpered and braced for the hit. Its molten fur shredded away under the power. The ice sliced every inch of its flesh. Dark blood clouded the maelstrom, which dissipated when Mira ended her concentration. Ice and blood rained upon the street as the lion fell dead.

The remaining lions dashed from roof to street to roof as spells darted after them. Magical arrows, bolts, and beams of all elements lit up the sky. At last they reached the party, and the four leapt as one from the rooftops.

“About time!” Jerico shouted as one leapt straight for him. A glowing image of his shield flung outward and struck the lion. The power hit its stomach like a battering ram, killing all momentum. The paladin gave it no reprieve, striking at its sides with his mace as it hit the ground in a graceless tangle of limbs.

Harruq and Lathaar rushed their attacker, their swords hacking. The lion clawed and bit as its huge body slammed into the both of them. It rolled head over feet as it roared, the two fighters rolling with it. The fire of its fur was hot to the touch but Aurelia’s spell spared Harruq. Lathaar had no such protection. The paladin screamed in pain as he stabbed again and again into the belly of the lion. The half-orc slashed at its eyes, scoring a wicked strike along the upper eyelid. He held in a scream when two claws tore across his arm, easily piercing his leather armor and shredding flesh.

The remaining two lions leapt at the casters, both eager to devour the strange goddess among them. Aurelia and Tarlak raised their hands and cast protection spells, but Mira would have none of it. She flicked a wrist at each of them. Winds pushed them aside. The first landed atop her, but it passed through her body like mist. The girl laughed.

“Something wrong?” she asked. Her hand reached out, ghostly and ethereal. When it touched the lion’s skin the spell enacted. Golden light exploded all around her, painful to the Eschaton’s eyes but absolute torture to the demons. The lion flew back from her touch, its right shoulder shattered. The other twisted in mid-leap, trying to hide from the glaring spell. It sailed overhead and landed behind the group. It leapt again, avoiding a blast of lightning. Tarlak looped his right hand twice, and then red webs fell from the sky. The lion struggled but could not resist their strength. It hit the street with a whimper, and lay there writhing against the webs.

It was given no chance to recover. Mira pelted it with a blast of white magic, so strong it peeled away fur and flesh so its bare ribs were exposed. The mighty lion died whimpering. Not far away, the lion with the wounded shoulder snarled in anger. Its pack was dying, and Karak was not pleased. It glanced back to Pelarak, who beckoned for it to return. The lion dodged a parting shot from Aurelia before racing back to the priest.

“Be healed,” Pelarak told it as he put his hands on the wounded shoulder. Light poured across the shoulder, shaping bone and mending cartilage. With a pleased roar, the lion turned back to the Eschaton. Pelarak drew his knife and urged it on.