Disclaimer- I don't own Deltora Quest, Storm Hawks, or anything else copyrighted.

Fracasta-one of the nations of the Western Union, a all mountain continent with a culture based around the nation's traditional art of shamanism.

Rasvalen- translates to 'tribe's guardian,' in the native Deltoran language Arsan.

Shadow Lord-the former leader of the sect that caused the Fracastain Civil War, whom became a twisted immortal through dark magic. Deltora's ancient enemy, his spies destroyed the magic artifact that kept him locked in his own realm, allowing him to rule in tyranny (from 1990 to 2005) during that time the Enemy did his best to bring Deltora down, nearly succeeding in destroying the nation forever. Upon recovering the means of locking him away, the Deltorans resealed their enemy and worked to rebuild their country, with some contribution from their allies(guilty of neglecting to investigate and aid the nation during it's time of need.) The perseverance paid off, restoring the nation to its state of power by 2008.

Spirit World- the ethereal realm of the Amihawkian Gods, were all spirits of mortals go upon death. The sections are Eutopia(paradise), Edurion(a place were average mortals can live average afterlives, free of the troubles they had in life), Asylum(common criminals go here, unless they redeemed themselves by admitting their crimes and with good deeds during life), and the Seven Hells (the seven levels of eternal punishment for twisted, demented mortals, each level resulting in worse torture.)

Arcane auma-a term used to refer to the amount of magic a being has in their body to use for spells.

Arcane-magic, referring to magic of any form of kind in Amihawkian culture(crystals, shamanism, druidism, combat magic, illusionist, the arts of the mage, statuary.)

races appearing in story-

varon-part of the terradon race, lizard humanoids with colorful scales, hair, and pointed ears.

Felisar-cat humanoids with the facial features of house cats, tails, and fur in thousands of patterns and colors.

Kerion-another at humanoid race, but resembling large felines like lions and tigers more, with broader muzzles, thicker tails, and larger ears.

Blizzarian-wolfish humanoids with bowed legs and stumpy tails.

Visorak-reptilian swamp creature about the size of a large dog.

Short character reminders-

Fearon Redskye-a young blue green varon. Strong willed, calm, and in battle coldly calculating. Talented swordsman and user of Enhancement magic.

Somra Malliark-midnight blue female varon. Ferocious and caring by turns, fiercely loyal to her friends. A effective weaponsmaster, she wields Enhancement magic.

Takar Byreflame-brown gold, skinny kerion. Grumpy, pessimistic and withdrawn, preferring never to tell anyone his thoughts. Fiercely talented mechanic, pilot and tech user.

Lehvahk Coveronn-a brown blizzarian. Jokester of the battlefield, cold sniper on it with dark humor. Uses Ranged magic.

Scout-a unusual scarlet visorak, nearly as good at mechanics as Takar. Often he is entrusted with the safety of the Strikeflier when the others are gone. Works well with Takar.

CHAPTER 10

NIGHTSLYER

Fearon had lost track of how much time had passed. His world had narrowed down to dodging, slashing, and generally trying to stay alive.

Spinning out of the way of the guardian's sword, Fearon attempted to flash under the bipedal bug's guard. His sword only managed to graze the being's hard shell before a spiny elbow hit him in the back, between the shoulder blades. Skin tore as the spines tore bloody stripes. He let out a guttural shout of pain, colliding hard with the ground. A roll and a flip was all that saved the green blue varon teen from being stabbed through and decapitated.

Stupid. It was fucking stupid that he had even let himself get tripped up like that. Fearon wiped some blood from the corner of his mouth before dodging, yet again. Following the path of his eyes, he crouched and jumped, using the flat of the guardian's sword for leverage. Then he angled a twin pair of vicious blows at the guardian's head.

The bipedal wasp stumbled, his head snapping to one side, then the other, two long gashes appearing in his carapace. A thin shriek emitted from the creature's throat as he stumbled back, hitting the wall. The sword came up again, and Fearon had to lean back and let himself fall before being treated to a beheading.

Lehavhk had been playing a similar game, channeling spells through his rifle to hold back the axe wielder. He weaved and sidestepped, making sure to never lose his focus. The axe guardian was slower than the one with the sword-it was fairly easy to evade. Somra had been engaged in a hissing, almost feral battle with the third guardian. From what Lehvahk had glimpsed, both combatants looked battered, with several wounds and cuts. Regrettably for the wasp, it seemed Somra was the least injured of the two. The sniper could only guess that she had been wearing the guardian down.

Lehvahk smiled ferally. He was aiming up a champion shot when a flare of light went off behind him.

Startled, he let one finger pull the trigger. The axe went flying from the guardian's hand, leaving the bipedal insect open in a rare moment of shock. Lehvahk's confidence flew up. He aimed for the neck-

Only to be stopped abruptly when a tanned brown arm knocked his own brown furred one. The blizzarian's shot went wide. He whirled, ready to try his best to wise crack on the interloper, even though his two companions could beat him at it.

The sniper blinked in astonishment. The same hat wearing guy from the oasis was suddenly behind him, looking completely unruffled and at ease. Lehavhk didn't know much about teleportation spells, but he did know that there needed to be a specific place in mind for them to work. There shouldn't have been any way to accurately flash down here, and even then, the guy should have looked a lot more tired-teleportation was well known as being draining.

The stream of thoughts ended up creeping out as half formed words. "Wha..how…who are you again? And how-"

"Am I down here? Neffar at your service." The tanned human performed a bow. Lehavhk shook his head in bewilderment. "Do you have a bad memory? It wasn't that long ago we last met." Faint amusement laced the man's words.

"Uh.." Lehvahk paused, only now realizing that his memory of the events at the Ballar Oasis had been hazy. In fact, Neffar wasn't in there at all. But Lehvahk couldn't shake a lingering sense the memory had been there.

"Oh, yes," Neffar hummed in a slight afterthought. "I forgot that it was crucial for none of you to remember our meeting until now."

The sudden restoration of the memory sent waves of color and sound into the sniper's head. He shook it, trying to sort them.

"Now, I suggest you all calm down. Hive guards, and flesh beings alike." Neffar had now raised his hands in a pacifying manner. Unlike the first time they had seen him, the man was now wearing nothing but a pair of ragged pants and his hat. Black, archaic tattoos marked him from abdomen to shoulders, telling some kind of story Lehvahk couldn't begin to comprehend.

And no one seemed eager to find out, especially Fearon. Irritated by the interruption, he looked sharply over his shoulder. "Why are you here?"

He winced at the slight fear in his voice. He hated admitting that with all the cryptic rambling at their first meeting, then having some of it come true already, Neffar made him distinctly uneasy.

A chattering and clicking drew his attention to the guardian again. He moved to run the bipedal wasp through, only to see it kneeling.

"What the hell?"

It was all he could think to say. Fearon had been close to proving his strength, and permanently ending the guardian. Yet now, this guy was suddenly here…and now all three were kneeling.

Muscles locked in combat readiness, Fearon slowly turned around. Looking the dark skinned desert dweller in the eye, he readjusted his grip on his sword. "Just who are you? What are you?"

"You asked me that before.."

"Yeah, and now I want an answer."

"Oh, it will come in a moment. I found you thanks to my aides. You may emerge now."

Three forms melded out of the dark. Fearon narrowed his eyes at them. A gray varon, blue hawktor, brown felisar, all looking vaguely familiar.

A sudden bolt of realization tore through him. "It's you three!"

"Posing as thugs is hard." The gray varon, looking cleaner and more dignified in a patchy set of silver armor, crossed his arms and glared in amusement.

Lemming cackled. "But his name still sounds ridiculous."

"I'll find a way to kill you even as a spirit if you bring my name up again," Crewfy snarled.

"So, what?" Lehvahk sounded slightly unnerved, his expression conveying the same. "We've been watched all this time by spirits?"

"Close."

"Why do you come here, Nyghthelm?" The thrumming voice of the sword guardian filled the air. "Is it not below you to deal with us now?"

"Nyghthelm?" Somra sounded shocked beyond belief. Her spear hung limply in her hand, the sudden shock rendering her nerveless. "Like in the story?"

Fearon's stomach lurched. "Then you should be dead. You shouldn't be here, not…solid, and-"

"Alive? Well, I'm not." Neffar spread his hands. "Your sniper was right in his initial statement. I am a spirit. One with special permissions to roam the mortal plane, and watch over the tribe I saved in my lifetime." He smiled languidly. "I am a spectral guardian, a Rasvalen. Every tribe has gotten one at some point."

"Rasvalen," Fearon repeated quietly. "Tribe's Guardian. That's what you are?"

"Aaand..." Somra let the word hang. 'The only way you can get that honor is by doing something really dangerous, and very sacrificial."

"Oh yes, I nearly died a few times," Neffar remarked languidly. "As it is, I died quite naturally. At a content old age," he shrugged. "And Goldclaw was gracious enough to bestow this honor on me. Have to say, I've never regretted the decision."

"And you are here for what, exactly? To help us fight?"

"Nah, just to check if you made it. Sadly, the four of us need to stay here. It's only my presence that keeps the guardians from tearing you to shreds. And of course, there are the Ancient Laws. There are limits to what we can do."

"We were managing pretty well," Lehvahk remarked, sounding slightly insulted.

Neffar smiled wryly. "Perhaps it seemed that way."

All three creatures grumbled a low agreement. "Had our bout continued longer...our side would begin to win."

Fearon growled. That sounded suspiciously like calling them weak-one of the biggest insults a Deltoran could receive. He got the impression the huge bug was smirking, even without the facial muscles to animate it.

"Alright, fine. That's great." Fearon managed to force the words out with a minimal amount of consent. "So it's up to me to deal with some deranged shammy bastard who's decided to go the way of the Shadow Lord?"

Neffar nodded brightly. "Well, of course. Wasn't that what I told you, and what Ream enforced?"

Fearon gnawed his lip, then sighed. The task sounded impossible, but then, a lot of things sounded that way. And he had no intention of being a coward, not after coming this far.

A low, throbbing boom reverberated down to the depth of the cavern. It was a sound Fearon could identify anywhere-the Strikeflier's broadside cannons, likely pumped up with Takar's brand of tech magic and modifications.

"Just one thing." Fearon turned on his heel and strode toward the next archway. 'How are Brendon, Scout and Takar doing up there?"

"Your friends are very impressive. They are admirable...like you, considering how much your fellows look down on you."

The varon teen grit his teeth. The jab at his reputation and bloodstained deeds wasn't appreciated. Sending a sharp glare over his shoulder, Fearon continued.

"What about us?" Somra demanded, even as Fearon was vanishing from sight.

'Follow him. Acryonoi won't be alone. He has the power now to demand the elements to obey him. One needs to deal with the shaman himself."

"And the others with his minions." Smiling ruefully, the weaponsmaster turned, following in Fearon's footsteps. "Hey! Wait up."

Lehvahk glanced at Neffar, his entourage, and the still guardians. He saluted the rasvalen and quickly hurried after his friends.

"Like I said to Goldclaw himself," Neffar commented, settling in a cross legged position on the floor, "these kids are destined to be something great. It'll be hard, with their respectively spotty reputations and pasts, but I have faith in them."

"Faith in those fools?" Crewfy snorted disparagingly. "I don't know about you, boss. But I don't see much of a reason to."

"Well, who knows. You may be surprised, my loyal friend."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Fearon paused, lowering himself into a crouch. Even with his eyes adapted to dim light, he couldn't make out anything more than shapes.

A sudden movement at his side made him tense. He relaxed a moment later when a harsh whisper reached his ears. "It's just us."

"Good. Can either of you-"

A flare of blue light lit the space followed by the harsh crack of lightning. Fearon's head shot up. Somra growled. Lehvahk narrowed his eyes and reset the trigger on his rifle. An aura of discord and darkness had filtered into the air, creating a invisble pressure like a gravity field.

"So, worms made their way here, hmm? I suppose it was going to happen." the voice was taunting, carried a definite Fracastian accent, and infuriated the trio with every word it spoke. "Those traditional fools back on Fracasta..don't know the power they are missing."

Amber light filtered in. Fearon's eyes picked out a huge, insectoid outline behind the demonically lit shaman. As the light became stronger, the thing came into clarification.

The massive wasp was draconic faced, bore three sets of wings, and was twice the size of the Strikeflier. Instinctively, Fearon knew it was the queen.

'Should we be worried about the queen?' Lehvahk asked warily.

"Oh, the queen probably won't fight you for me. She's more concerned about her mate...whom I have, poised to be killed, outside this place, should she refuse me. With the proper magics," a rabid, unstable smile met the shaman's lips, "He can be hidden even from the eyes of the Goddess of the Desert. No more mate, no more Hive." Acryonoi laughed madly. The shaman's visage creased and darkened as he raised his hands, ignoring the low rumble from the queen's direction. "Tell me...have you ever wondered what truly powerful earth elementals look like?"

"No. what I want is to see what you look like being dragged off to Cear Draconis.*" Fearon snarled. "Give us the sword, release the Hive, and we can make this easy."

"Please," Acryonoi howled in a bout of laughter. "You Deltoran savages love fighting. You want to slice me to ribbons, or at least try-not that you will succeed."

Clenching his hands, the shaman yowled at the top of his lungs. The sound was primal and guttural, a fierce call to arms.

The ground erupted as the stony earth elements clawed their way up. Almost instantly, it was obvious something was wrong with them. They looked...

Fearon's stomach lurched. Skeletal. That was what they looked like-and suspiciously familiar.

Acryonoi shrieked piercingly in fury. "OBEY ME!"

The elementals thick earthen skin began to fracture. Gruesome cracks sounded as the shards fell away revealing bits and pieces of bone white. With a final twist, an image from a nightmare broke free-a skeletal beast made up of a mashing of animal and humanoid bones, the motley collection of parts somehow aligning into a working state.

The thing sprang at Fearon, baring sharp teeth. He yelled in terror as a memory flashed into his mind's eye-another of the monsters, lunging at him as a helpless seven year old orphan. Instinctively he lashed out blindly with his swords, cutting the macabre horror into several splintered pieces.

Shuddering and feeling sick, Fearon clambered to his feet. As the surge of terror abated, the bastard started talking again. The swordsman swung around to face him once more, the terror he had just felt making him hate the shaman's guts even more.

"Amazing. The one thing that can actually scare a Deltoran witless." Acryonoi let his gaze bore into Fearon's own. He narrowed his eyes, seeing more than just cruelty in the pale orbs. The renegade shaman was clearly mad, completely crazy-and quickly going the way of anyone who had used dark magic.

"This ends now." Seething, Fearon prepared to leap. "Guys, deal with the other monsters."

"Aye!" Somra shouted, savagely stabbing one through the middle.

With a coiled movement Acryonoi drew out a black, shining weapon-the Ebon Nightslayer. The archaic beauty made Fearon falter. The swordsman part of him adored everything about it-the sleek curves, the way the light gleamed off the shiny obsidian and graced the razored edge, the beautiful, silent promise of balanced and polished power. It was a dream weapon.

Then there was the wrongness of it, of the hands it was currently in. Shaman were known for wielding the three weapons that best suited their craft-the traditional long shafted warhammer, spears, and maces. The sword looked wrong beyond belief in Acryonoi's grasp.

He wasn't given time to think further. With a harsh screech Acryonoi lunged at him, swinging the ebon sword. The fast, precise stroke nearly hit Fearon-a thin line of blood stung on the side of his neck. The shaman swung again, this time infusing the weapon with lightning.

Fearon went wide eyed, deflecting the strike off the side of Kharash. The black lightning ran up the blade, shocking his shoulder. The sky night yelled in pain as the electricity burned his skin. He pulled away and sidestepped, avoiding a second jab.

He grit his teeth in a silent swear. Who knew a shaman could swing so well.

Time to show him how to actually use a sword.

Indigo runes patterned his arms as the swordsman activated the Black Dragon enhancement. Acryonoi paused for a split second to aim his strike. Fearon leaped forward, both swords flashing, taking the precious opportunity. A pair of crossed gashes opened up in the shaman's chest, and Acryonoi bellowed in anger as he was sent hurtling backward.

Stumbling to a halt, Fearon glanced at his shoulder. He winced, feeling the burned skin and muscle protest to the slightest movement, down to a simple twitch. He glared at the shaman, who had slammed hard into a far wall.

Fearon cursed the bastard even more when the Fracastian twitched, his free hand grasping into a claw. The blow should have been a crippling one or a kill, even with armor-instead, Acryonoi's wounds were leaking a black, poisonous looking fluid in a thin stream, and he was still finding the strength to stand.

The young varon withdrew with a growl. The shaman's creased face was shadowed, his teeth bared in a animal snarl. But even through that, Fearon could see his eyes. They were looking red-demonically red.

"You're losing it, bastard. Slipping more and more into madness." Fearon coughed, the metallic taste of blood infecting his mouth. He wiped it away, sucked in some ragged breaths, and stood. He readjusted his grip on his swords. "How long till you can't even control yourself at all?"

"I am always in control." Acryonoi's voice oozed through the air on a trail of smoke. The felisar's body only seemed to be becoming more and more disfigured. Spikes had begun to grow on him, shoulders, back. The beginning of horns poked from his temples. He snarled out the next words, revealing a mouth full of elongating teeth. "What they tell you about dark magic, it is false. Dark Magic is control! Pure power, not corruption. Not self destruction. I'll show them all!"

The deranged shaman surged forward again. Purple fire raced along the Ebon Nightslayer as he swung it above his head in a arc. Fearon instinctively blocked, the impact jarring to his burnt shoulder. He grit his teeth and tried to push back.

Acryonoi only stumbled slightly. He hissed, a more reptilian noise than should have reasonably come from the felisar throat. He angled the obsidian blade again, the burning tip coming to close for comfort.

Fearon leaned back. With an audible grunt he disengaged one sword, leaned sideways, and drove Kharash up in the direction of the corrupted shaman's head. As force pushed Syraphe down, the jagged twin sliced into Acryonoi's upper cheekbone. He yowled. Fearon took the chance to dodge his foe's next, wild blow.

The deranged being raised a hand. He spoke a chant Fearon recognized as that of a shaman, but twisted and malformed.

The earth splintered under his feet. Fearing more twisted elementals, the swordsman leaped backward. Instead the fault continued, slithering beneath his dancing feet with all the stealth of a snake. Thinking quickly, Fearon allowed speed enhancement runes to lend him their power, and began to run along the solid parts of the fault, dashing in the shaman's direction fast enough to barely be visible.

Acryonoi bellowed in rage. "NO!"

The earth heaved. Fearon shouted in pain as his footing was thrown off. He was nearly speared by a vicious stone spear, hurtling after his tumbling form with deadly intent. He tumbled backward, feeling blood run where the stone had gouged a deep wound in his side. The green-blue varon managed to stand up, only to slam back first into something hard.

It couldn't have been the wall. He wasn't close enough. Heart thudding, a brief touch test concluded his theory. He had made contact with the bony base of the Hive's obelisk.

Head spinning, Fearon just managed to block the Ebon Nightslayer as it came singing down. The swordsman stopped the black blade a scant few inches from his throat. Acryonoi leaned closer, his breath wafting into Fearon's nose.

He wrinkled it instinctively. The former shaman's breath smelled like carrion-it was entirely possible that was what he had been eating.

"Why struggle?" Acryonoi's voice had taken on an echoing, unearthly tone. "This is the end for you. The Hive is my army now, my servants. I will claim everything for myself!"

He leaned forward even more, placing more weight on Fearon's thin build. The varon teen grunted, straining to hold it back. The tip of the Nightslayer pricked at his neck.

The cut was barely enough to draw blood, but it still sent a strange, unnerving jolt throughout Fearon's body. It felt like something was unmaking him from the inside, like incorporeal hands, toying with the very fabric of his being. He faltered, just briefly. The shaman snarled and applied more force.

The young sky knight forced himself to move through the strange daze. He yelled in pain when the blade sliced into his upper arm. Letting adrenaline power him, Fearon bolted away from Acryonoi, swiveling on his heel to face the deranged felisar man.

Still slightly dizzy, Fearon couldn't help but think Acryonoi looked like the ones who had set off the spark of Fracasta's civil war seventeen billion years ago, as he had read about in books-demonic growths and red eyes in all, demanding power from the elements. Fearon was no shaman, but the base principle of the art was well known. Humility and respect for the elements had always been the basis of shamanism.

Like the ones who had nearly ruined that foreign nation, Acryonoi was throwing principles away.

Fearon squared his shoulders with effort. Acryonoi needed to be stopped, before he went the way of those same doomed cultists and sparked another war.

The enemy roared anew and rushed at him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Somra destroyed another corrupted elemental, the ghastly thing shattered to pieces with the help of her Black Dragon enhancement. Withdrawing briefly, she spared Fearon a glance. The young varon was matching blows with Acryonoi. Although he was blocking and dodging, each hit seemed to take more out of him-and Somra noted with worry that Acryonoi only seemed to be getting stronger.

A ragged shriek sounded, bringing her attention back to her own dilemma. Somra whirled and in one clean swipe decapitated the earth elemental. The bony head tumbled away, the body briefly becoming the blocky, pure form of a earth elemental before it fell apart.

Somra let out a breath of relief-one that lasted a very short time. She felt a sharp pain tear across her side, and with a yell of fury she swung her gauntleted fist backward. The varon weapons specialist made contact with something hard. With savage fury she spun to face the enemy and gathered a timed punch.

When the corrupted being lunged again, Somra was ready. Strength enhancement active, she sent her uppercut flying. The elemental's face caved in, shards of rock splintering outward. It made a ditch effort to cut her again, spreading claws stained with her blood. But by then, Somra had planted her spear through the bastard's center.

She gripped harder and ripped her weapon sideways. The elemental's body broke in half, fractures spreading like spiderwebs. Before it had even finished disintegrating, Somra ducked the singing swing of another clawed hand. She dropped lower and aimed a kick, knocking the next elemental's leg out from under it.

The macabre horror crashed down, tottering back up faster than she had anticipated. Somra aimed another attack, only to see it deflected.

She narrowed her eyes. The elementals were showing signs of becoming stronger, more like the ones summoned by the tyrant that had nearly sent Deltora to complete ruin twenty years ago.

Which only meant the creep controlling it was getting stronger. They were all fucked if he got Shadow Lord strong.

"Fearon!" She shouted, not taking her eyes of the evil, glinting eyes of the minion. "ETA?"

A grunt and the harsh squealing of steel against blade answered her. "Not to great. But not to bad."

"Get the upper hand fast." Somra hissed at the elemental as it swiped again, goring deep gashes in the ground. "We seem to be running out of time."

The skeletal beast seemed to sneer. It lifted a claw festooned in taunt ribbons of flesh, swiping at Lehvahk. He ducked the blow, releasing a spray of throwing knives.

The elemental flinched only briefly, creeping forward like a cat. Lehvahk backed away even more, brushing the ground with his fingers briefly. A rune glared there, in green.

Hastily Somra diverted her gaze before she gave the presence of the inscription away to the enemy. Darting closer to Lehvahk, she plucked a hand bomb from her belt. Setting it to blow, she threw it.

The round explosive lodged neatly in the elemental's burning eye socket. Almost comically it paused. The one free eye flickered in some semblance to a blink before the bomb blew, and bone splinters flew everywhere. Somra shielded her face with her spiked gauntlet before moving to Lehvahk's side. He had pulled a pair of goggles over his eyes, and barely blinked when the shards came at him.

"Nice. Any chance that took him out for good?"

"It's low..."

A hiss interrupted her. The half decimated skull of the elemental showed through the drifting dust, and Somra found herself deflecting a yellowed set of sharp teeth of the shaft of her weapon. She spun and kicked, knocking the head away. The skeletal monster's bony tail whipped around next, the sharp point cutting a gash down her side and into her thigh.

With a shriek of fury Somra tried to bring her spear point down on the tail. It slipped away and tried again, driving a deep hole in the ground.

Lehvahk sidestepped, while Somra copied the action to the right. She parried another claw swipe, dimly hearing Lehvahk snap his fingers.

The rune lit up in a flare of green. The elemental was cloaked in a wreath of green fire. As it struggled free, the tendrils seemed to solidify, wrapping around it akin to cobras. The monster writhed and snapped, clawing to get free.

"Efficient trap," Panting, Somra fell back. Lehvahk seemed to appear beside her as if by magic. Farther away, a grating noise and a roar of anger made Somra wince. Her heart, already beating fast, seemed to skip as concern for Fearon flooded her inner mind.

"Yeah. I'm awesome that way, but..."

"It won't last that long?"

Lehvahk nodded. "It'll break out."

"Wonderful." Somra narrowed her eyes, carefully tracking the elemental's progress. It skriked against the trap, causing one of the ties to break.

"The godsdamned thing's halfway out."

"Ideas?"

Somra glanced around them. Her eye ridges raised inquisitively as she noticed something interesting. No other elementals are springing up. Before there were at least three...

"Maybe if we keep it busy and toy with it, we won't see any more minions."

A sharp snap once again sounded. Lehvahk cast a furtive glance at his rune trap. "And what if this one gets more powerful?"

"We...work on that when it happens?"

The sharpshooter gave her a flat glance. "Don't be too confident, now."

Somra's temper flared. "We could always shoot it down now, and get an even more powerful one in it's place."

"Okay, so the first option doesn't sound too bad."

The monster roared. Somra yelled and dodged as it broke free and lunged for her. Lehvahk's rifle boomed, a fiery explosion blooming in the elemental's side. It howled and was sent skidding sideways, ribs cracked and crumbling.

"Okay, you have more of those traps, right?"

"Long as I have an ounce of arcane auma in my body." Lehvahk flashed a strained grin. "And I have plenty of that."

Somra hefted her spear. "Good. Set more while I distract it, and try to think of a more long lasting trap spell."

Lehvahk nodded and dashed off. Letting loose a battle cry, Somra rushed the elemental.

It reared, shredding the air with both hooked claws. Somra ducked one, allowing the Black Dragon spell to enhance her strength. She drove her spear upward, stabbing the other paw through the middle.

The beast scissored it's fleshless jaws. Its remaining eye burned as it swung the damaged claw upward, taking Somra with it. With a mighty heave, she pulled her spear loose and dropped back to earth.

The monster made to pounce. Somra rolled aside, letting the macabre creature shred the stone ground.

Lehvahk, meanwhile, had done as his friend had instructed. He swiftly completed the rune circle, laying each individual one down with a precise poke. One, two, three four and five. This should be good.

He grinned devilishly. Ranged magic had several aspects that one would not typically expect, but any sharpshooter didn't want their enemies coming close to them. Hence, laying rune traps on the fly was one of the features he liked most about that sect of Combat Magic.

With the flat of his hand he laid the sealing rune. Somra had gotten to her feet, and had stabbed the monster in the shoulder with her spear aflame from a fire enhancement. The elemental jinked and spun in a frenzy, one foreleg finally snapping and falling off.

It would recover all too soon. Knowing that, Lehvahk opened his mouth to shout, only to see Somra outside the circle. The Enhancement user nodded, and he nodded back.

The elemental rightened itself. Jaw unlatched in a silent howl, it made to move.

Lehvahk laughed brightly. "Nighty night. You'll have a wonderful view of your master's defeat."

He tapped the rune with a finger. The marks became visible once more as they activated, flaring a fierce aqua blue. Layer upon layer of transparent blue sprung into existence, tapering into a three dimensional triangle.

The skeletal creature's movements slowed, stage by stage, until it was barely moving fast enough for the eye to note. A second later, the corrupted elemental had been frozen in midair, eyes staring, and looking for all the world like a fly trapped in amber.

Lehvahk fist pumped triumphantly. "How's that suspended animation taste? It'll wear off..." he wagged a finger patronizingly. "But not for a little while. And I bet Fearon will have gotten your master by then-"

A loud rumble, ominous and deep, interrupted his well earned gloating. Lehvahk froze and let his eyes travel in the direction of the noise. At the same moment, Somra let out a choked noise of horror.

The middle of the floor had caved. The edges were jagged, bits of rock and earth still drifting down in sheets. Lehvahk bolted for the hole, following a already frantic Somra.

"Fearon!"

please review. It makes a author feel very fulfilled.

Things are winding down-only one or two more chapters to go, maybe a third as a conclusion. The beginning of the next story is being started on, and a working summary is on my profile. The title of Ep 3 is 'Deception.'