Author's Corner:
After a few (long) months of struggle, the end of Hammer of Terrascars is in sight. In the foreseeable future month or two, this journey will probably reach its conclusion, opening the door to a highly probable sequel. Naturally, since this fiction is largely a novelization of Fire Emblem 7, the sequel will most likely be infused with large elements of Fire Emblem 6: The Sealed Sword. Those of you who enjoyed Hammer hopefully will not be disappointed.
On a second note, it has come to my attention via e-mail that the Terms of Service on this website no longer allows/promotes writers to respond to reviewer comments in the actual chapters itself. (This does not mean that you shouldn't review!) If you would like feedback for your ideas, by all means drop an e-mail address in your review and I'll get back to you whenever I can (in my infinite leisurely time…)
Hammer of Terrascars – Chapter 19
Requiem for the Shadow
July 1st, doors of Sunset Palace, Dwelling of the Prince,
Of all the trusted vassals and mercenaries within our outfit, somehow the lords agreed that I would be the most suitable candidate to carry the Fire Emblem. I'd have sooner turned the relic over to my mentor, but he adamantly refused the task. Fortunately for us, Legault managed to obtain a floor plan for the Sunset Palace while we were away on that wild-goose chase at the fjords. However, I am concerned about the combat readiness of our task force. After nearly a dozen miles of forced marching behind us, will we be able to repel the elite Black Fang troops sent to terminate Prince Zephidel? The Sunset Palace is one of the most heavily defensible sites in all of Bern, considering that the heir to the throne resides there. The worst possible I can come up with reasonable probability would be a rescue attempt while Bern's elite guards and the Fang infiltrators are fighting to the death while we try to dance our way between them. Either side would be more than willing to kill us rather than the painstaking task of asking questions first…
"Either approach has its advantages," Cecilia noted.
Lyn nodded, "Our concentrated force should be sufficient to pierce any obstacle the Black Fang's group sets before us whichever route we take."
Eliwood disagreed, "The essence is time, something our enemy has in abundanc, but we sorely lack at this moment. Our mission will end in failure if we do not reach the prince before his assassins do."
"Yet we cannot split our forces," Hector remarked, "After all, we only have one trustworthy tactician at this moment. Sending a second group without any leadership is potential disaster."
Cecilia and Lyn both started to protest, but Eliwood beat them to it, "Sometimes, necessity must outweigh the risk involved. I propose we reinstate Mark, if only for this brief engagement."
Lyn smirked victoriously, but Hector was appalled, "Mark? Eliwood, have you lost your mind?"
"Not at all," Eliwood replied, "Regardless of his gruesome resume, he is the most brilliant, if somewhat questionable, military mind we have. While all of us were lured into the Three Fjords, he was able to see through the ruse, accurately pinpoint and retrieve the Fire Emblem with Lyn's aid."
"He is chancy and undoubtedly untrustworthy," Hector retorted.
"Yet the fact remains that he is our primary tactician who has never led this group false," Cecilia pointed out, "I may not have lost a major conflict yet, but we must all concede the point that without Mark, we'd have lost the war in terms of retrieving the Fire Emblem."
"He will not march alongside me!" Hector thundered.
"Fine, he'll go with…"
"No, Lyn," Eliwood interrupted, "I'll take Mark along with me across the left entrance of the palace. I admit that I've lost faith in the past, and this may be the last chance for me to reestablish my belief in Mark. Cecilia will go with the two of you down the halls on the right."
Hector looked unhappy, "I still think we are making a grave mistake."
And I can scarcely recall the fond memory when we liberated that Pheraen village, Eliwood thought, it is high time that I revalued my stance towards Drake.
"So the Angel of Death failed?"
"Indeed, such a waste of talent. His fall was merely due to his inability to finish off a defenseless girl!"
"A pretty one?"
"Curb your desires, Maxime. I will not have cumbersome oafs slobbering over my dress."
"Yes, Lady Ursula. My sincere apologies," the knight bowed.
Ordinarily, a false knight such as Maxime would have never been accepted among the ranks of the vaunted Black Fang, especially during the days that Brendan Reed ruled. Since the advent of Sonia and Nergal, a righteous legion of crusaders was corrupted into a mob of immoral monsters. Any bandit, thief, murderer or lawbreaker was readily accepted, so long as he or she wielded a weapon with a tolerable degree of skill. With Brendan in Sonia's nefarious clutches, long time members such as the Angel of Death and the Hurricane deserting, along with innumerous loyalists such as the Linus and Uhai slain, the end of the once proud Black Fang was at hand.
Maxime once boasted of a lineage that fair extended half a dozen generations. A proud knight of Bern who fought with unparalleled horsemanship and chivalry, his feats were sung of across the land. As one of General Murdock's right hand men, Maxime saw his career and position quickly scrambling up the rungs of glory. Alas, he ran afoul the very vows he swore to king and kingdom when he abused the purity of several innocent maidens, nearly causing him to lose his honorable position as a noble peer. Should the cry of the victims reach the right ears, Maxime could easily be stripped of his knighthood and arms, doomed to live out the rest of his days as an oath breaker. Black Fang members, on the other hand, saw something left to salvage in his failing honor, and offered him a gift he couldn't refuse: So long as he became a servant of darkness, the darkness would see to it that the terrible charges against him would be, removed… Foolishly, he accepted.
"I don't need your false words," Ursula snapped, "Bring me their heads along with Zephidel's carcass. You know the price of failure…"
"Of course, Lady Ursula," Maxime muttered underneath his breath as the valkyrie rode away, "You there! What the hell are you doing standing there gawking? Find that damnable Jaffar and kill him!"
"B-but," the man stammered, "It's the Angel of Death we're talking about here…"
"Fool!" Maxime thwacked the man on the head with the butt of his lance, "He may be a brilliant assassin, but even he is mortal! Stick him with spears and he'll bleed, stab him with swords and he'll die! Now hop to it!"
"You sem to trust the man more than you should," Hector remarked.
"Trust between the two of us measures far beyond petty ideals," Lyn replied calmly, and you are more a fool not to put your trust in him.
"Petty?"
"On the plains," Lyn continued, "We could readily forgo the history lesson to benefit the tribe. Rarely do nomads show contempt over a bloody history. When survival is put to the test, we can afford to allow a few skeletons dangling from the closets as long as the majority derives the benefits."
Hector made as if to comment, but Lyn silenced him with a glare, "I dare you to insult my upbringing by blaspheming Sacaen logic."
One look at Lyn's hand straying dangerously close to the Mani Katti convinced Hector to stifle his comment, at least for the moment. There would be a much more appropriate time and place to finish this argument rather than in the middle of a battle. Mentally, Hector was growing increasingly aware that Eliwood no longer shared a similar distaste towards Mark. It could be his best friend's involvement with Ninian may have softened his judgment, given that the dancer and her little brother greatly respected their first tactician. Yet Hector could never forget the way Uther shuddered when someone spoke the name of the Hammer so many years ago, and his brother never wore his dismay publicly. Speaking of which, it was high time that Hector spoke with Oswin regarding Uther's status. While it was not uncommon for Hector himself to go weeks on end without even a scrap of correspondence, Uther typically found ways to contact Oswin periodically. Fighting down his unease, the younger Ostian lord could not recall when was the last time Oswin spoke of his brother.
"Oswin! Where the devil is he?"
"Last I checked, he was at the gate with Matthew," Farina called out as she trailed behind her two sisters. The pegasi sisters had opted to dismount and lead their docile mounts on foot. Wyverns were well known to charge blindly ahead regardless of any possible dangers, but pegasi suffered from a fault that their distant cousins on foot did. Namely, horses and pegasi shied easily from the unknown. Though difficult to dislodge the loyalty and trust between rider and mount, knights and riders often found that their traveling partners were afraid of charging recklessly into the darkness. Given that tonight was a mission focusing on silence and swiftness, Fiora had suggested that the sisters lead their pegasi by foot.
Lyn caught the sound of armor plates clashing against one another, "Wait, is that him?"
Sure enough, an armored knight emerged clanking out of the darkness, his face obscured by a massive warhelm. Hector was about to hail his trusted vassal when the knight spoke in an accent distinctively different from an Ostian.
"Ah, Castle Caelin at last," the knight boomed, "Wait, I could've sworn the last village said this was Bern… Bah, who cares?" Without another word, the clanking monstrosity disappeared into the darkness again.
Sain's jaw dropped, "You're kidding me… General Wallace?"
His words were too late, as testified by the receding sounds of armor. Interestingly, not even a single royal guard challenged the aging knight.
"Odd," Cecilia noted, "There are no soldiers on duty! The prince's coming of age ceremony is tomorrow, and yet no one is concerned that some would-be assassin waltzes in and puts a dagger in the royal heir?"
"That's because they're all dead."
Cecilia, Lyn and Hector all jumped at the sudden outburst behind them. Turning slightly, their eyes fell upon a tall, lanky swordsman running a thin finger over his saber. What truly gave them pause, however, was the bloodthirsty glint that radiated from his fearsome eyes. The only person that could've matched such a thinly veiled insanity had been Mark, and Mark scarcely showed that side of him unless absolutely necessary.
Lyn sighed slightly, "Hector, Cecilia, I understand that introductions are a little late, but please meet Karel. Mark and I chanced upon him during our brief assault when retrieving the Fire Emblem."
Ill-at-ease, Hector nodded, "Well met, swordsman. However, you alluded to that all the guards are dead?"
"Of course," Karel replied lazily, as if the matter held no consequence to them, "There are only two possibilities in this situation. Looking at this from a slayer's point of view, the innumerous guards surrounding Zephidel must have either been recalled to another location, or simply put down by the invading scum. Either way, we'll be dealing with a horde of man flesh simply begging me to carve into pieces." He grinned demonically at the thought.
Cecilia blanched at those words as she thought back to Mark's earlier suggestion. The lords had, heeding his advice, divided the group into three parties. Eliwood led one squad down the left flank, Hector and Lyn through the right, leaving Pent holding a defensive position in a sheltered forest area a mile or two west of the palace. The Mage General had conversed briefly with the General of Death before departing to their assigned duties. Lyn, recognizing the need for speed, had delegated Matthew, Kent, Sain, and the three pegasi sisters to enter first, aiming to reach the prince without further delay. Hector and herself would follow with the slightly slower infantry. Oswin had moved ahead merely to secure the gate for their arrival after Matthew worked his magic on the locks.
Hector grimaced, "Then we better hurry if we don't want to come upon a certain prince chopped into fish bait."
Maxime had run across the same problem that many of Jaffar's victims came upon. Namely, the Angel of Death was simply too damn tough to beat in the shadowy darkness. Fully five dozen men had chased after the one-time Four Fang member, and nearly a quarter of that number lay dead or dying in the long corridor. Though the rest stayed gamely on the assassin's trail, many of the pursuers were hesitant to grapple with the man who slew as easily as an illusive phantom.
Even so, the man was tiring slightly. When the chase began, Jaffar slew silently and efficiently, dispatching man after man with flawless ease. Now, as the chase drew longer and longer, faint gasps for breath echoed slightly down the hall, forcing the Angel of Death to abandon the shadowy walls and actually fight several of his pursuers without the cover of darkness. Every one of the Black Fang warriors under Maxime's command knew their prey would inevitably perish in their nets, but they were also aware that their prey might very well take two-thirds of them with him into death. No one volunteered to have their height shortened by a head.
"Curses," Maxime spat, "Where the devil is Schoft and his men? I told them to sweep around the upper corridor and corner this man between us!"
"They did take the longer route," one of his men panted, "They should be in position shortly."
Jaffar turned a corner and vanished. Desperate not to lose the trail and eager to claim the glory of slaying the vaunted Angel of Death, Maxime and his warriors pelted after their target. Before they could round the corner, shouts of surprise and the scuffle of battle reached their ears.
"Finally," Maxime scoffed, "Where the devil were they anyways?"
Being the first man to round the corner always had its nasty surprises, as Maxime found out to his eternal dismay. As his stallion set hoof across the threshold of the hallway corner, a well-timed sword stroke parted appendage from beast. Screaming with pain, the horse spilled Maxime from the saddle. Tumbling to the ground, the dazed knight drew his sword and readied his shield just in time to stop a mighty blow from a blond-haired warrior.
"Harken?" Maxime gasped, "The devil are you doing here?"
"Righting my wrongs and repenting of my sins," the other knight replied as he blocked Maxime's counter with his own shield.
"Hmph, to think that I actually gave you credit for brains when you ditched Lord Elbert and joined us."
"I broke my vows to avenge my liege lord," Harken thundered, a righteous flame flickering in his eyes, "I have rejoined Pherae and shall start my reign of vengeance with you!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Maxime saw that Harken was not alone. Several cavaliers, fighters and swordsmen were in working in a concerted effort to systematically eliminate the Black Fang troops. Schoft lay motionless in a pool of his own blood along with several of his most trusted men. Apparently, this group of self-righteous pieces of horse manure ambushed Schoft's crew just as they made contact with Jaffar.
Harken took advantage of his opponent's momentary distraction to deliver a furious flash at Maxime's head. Seeing the powerful blow at the last moment, Maxime managed to twist sideways to dodge the fatal blow. Raising his shield, Maxime smashed the wooden wall into Harken's face, causing the knight to reel backwards in pain. Throwing his shield aside, Maxime raised his sword with both hands and was about to deliver a blow that would've clove Harken in two had not someone else took interest in the fray.
The sound of galloping hooves betrayed the rider's intent to Maxime. He turned to see a mounted cavalier with streaming blue hair stampeding towards him with lance outstretched. Ordinarily, Maxime would have no problem dodging such an obvious rush, but Harken's sword slightly complicated things. The Pheraen knight swung his sword while still lying aground, catching Maxime in the back of his left knee. Keeling over with a shriek, there was little the false knight could do save watch as the vengeful female paladin stab downwards into his chest.
"Whew, that appears to be all of them," Eliwood panted as he leaned on his sword, "Harken, are you alright?"
Said knight was being helped to his feet by Isadora, "Yes, milord."
"I wonder why the Black Fang was so utterly uninterested in our approach," Mark mused aloud, "They seem to be in pursuit of something?"
"I agree," Raven said, "They're too far away from Zephidel's chambers, at least according to the map we obtained."
"Could the prince have escaped the trap?" Lucius wondered.
"Unlikely," Mark shook his head, "If he had an ounce of sense, he'd stay in his quarters and wait out the siege. Out here, with no guards to come to his aid, Prince Zephidel would be a walking target for the innumerous Black Fang assassins. No, he'd be better off staying in his room and hope for reinforcements."
"Then they were chasing him?" Raven pointed at Jaffar.
"I'm not sure…" Approaching footsteps cut off Eliwood's comment.
Legault into the corridor, "The other division has made contact outside the prince's room, and we…"
Without a word, Jaffar leapt at Legault with knives bared. Caught off guard, the Hurricane barely managed to block the attack with the hilt of his sword and it was man-to-man as the two ex-Black Fang members clashed. Jaffar had recognized the legendary Black Fang 'house-cleaner' immediately, but Legault was unaware of his opponent's identity until they exchanged a few blows. Legault had regularly exchanged bouts with the Four Fangs and Uhai in years previous, and recognized Jaffar's blade work.
"Jaffar!" Legault called out, "Wait, it's not how it seems…" He ducked as one of Jaffar's blades nearly split his face in two.
That's torn it, Legault thought, Jaffar doesn't know I deserted the Black Fang! He's mistaking me for another pursuer after his hide! How the bloody hell do I make him understand that I'm on his side?
Marcus grabbed his lance and motioned for Lowen to follow. Two lance-wielding cavaliers would easily divide the battlers until everything could be explained. Lowen reached for his lance that was leaning against the wall, but was shocked to find the weapon missing.
Jaffar pressed his attack, neatly knocking aside Legault's blade and stabbing at the thief's throat with the other fatal edge. The knife would've split Legault's throat in half had not the sound of steel swinging through the air alerted Jaffar to the danger behind him.
Turning, the Angel of Death parried, confident that one hand was sufficient to block the enemy weapon. To his surprise, his left arm was jarred numb as the lance twisted his arm around and the force of the blow knocked him away from the disarmed Legault. Spinning completely around, Jaffar held both his knives before him as he surveyed his new foe with wide eyes. He was not the only one.
Everyone in the room was staring in disbelief as Mark stood with lance poised and a shed cloak wrapped around his left arm before trailing to the ground below. Scarcely giving the assassin pause, the tactician sprang forward and delivered a powerful one-armed thrust that Jaffar barely deflected.
Normally, in close quarters Jaffar would have the advantage, as a large lance was unwieldy at close range. However, Mark never let up on the offensive, stabbing left and right with lance point and butt. It was then that Jaffar noticed his opponent's handle on the weapon was that of a quarterstaff, gripping the lance near the middle as to deliver knockout blows from either end. Stab, slash, counter, sweep, thrust, and parry were all performed to perfection. Neither tactician nor assassin injured one another, but Mark was steadily pushing Jaffar back until the assassin stood with his back to the wall. Pushing off the wall, Jaffar stabbed forward with both knives, but his attack was blunted when Mark held his weapon sideways and blocked both attacks. Gripping the lance with his left hand in the middle again, Mark ducked down and in before landing a furious punch in Jaffar's middle. Unconscious, the Angel of Death collapsed without another sound.
"So let me get this straight," Hector massaged his temples, "Wallace mistook this Nino girl for Lyn and 'announced' to the Black Fang of our current location?"
"Yeah, that's pretty much the run of it," Matthew chipped in, "Then again, Wallace and Oswin pretty much have the entryway to the prince's room covered."
"So now we have custody of this ex-Black Fang member and secured the entrance to the prince's room?" Cecilia asked.
"He doesn't know who is trying to save his life, but that's fine by me," Lyn said as she cleaned her sword, "He probably concluded that the imperial guards finally arrived."
"I agree," Cecilia said, "But we're still gambling that Eliwood will arrive shortly before we're overrun. Sending a swift force to decapitate the enemy leader may prove useful, but it leaves us severely outnumbered here."
As if to prove her words, a fresh wave of Black Fang warriors scrambled to grapple with the prince's defenders. Behind this wall of steel and flesh, the clatter of hooves could be heard upon the hard, marble floor.
"Cavalry?" Cecilia murmured in dismay before correcting herself, "No, a valkyrie I believe…"
Before Cecilia even finished speaking, said valkyrie raised her hands and fired a trio of spells into the midst of battle. One ill-fated Black Fang ax man was fried to crisp while the other two spells sent the combatants diving for cover. One smashed into a stone pillar's foundation, threatening to level the entire column. The other splashed into the wall not two feet above Oswin's war helm. Quick as a shadow, the caster faded into the crowds again, biding her time for another sniping attempt.
Capitalizing on the confusion, several squads of Black Fang elites charged the beleaguered defenders. Ursula's brief interruption had thrown Hector and his companions off balance, leaving a prime opportunity for the assassins to remove any obstacle on their way to the prince. In the furious melee that followed, both Hector and Lyn were wounded, Wil lost his bow to an enemy mage, leaving Wallace and Oswin far too busy trying to hold the pass.
Fortune, however, tends to bestow her favor upon the bold. Out of the dimness of the shadows, five mounted warriors came to the rescue. Kent and Sain drew first blood, directing their fiery steeds to charge straight into the unprotected right flank of their foes. Above them, the three pegasi sisters soared over the melee to strike at the completely unprepared archers and casters that made up the support lines for the Black Fang. In a flurry of feathers, jabbing spears and striking hooves, Florina and Fiora scattered the archers while the hapless mages fled from a wrathful Farina.
As the survivors turned their attention upon this new set of enemies, they made the unfortunate mistake of leaving their backs completely unguarded. They were mercifully unaware of their doom, at least until Eliwood and his force smashed into them with the fury of a thunderbolt. Caught between superior forces on three different sides, the Black Fang warriors valiantly tried to hold the line for a brief moment before abandoning armor and arms in flight. Marcus rallied the other cavaliers to him, and, with the aid of Heath and the pegasi sisters, proceeded to scour the Sunset Palace of the Black Fang infestation.
Ursula, seeing that defeat was inevitable and the opportunity lost, retreated swiftly and quietly from the crowd. Urging her pony to a light gallop, she veered away from the primary rear entrance of the palace and approached a more secular side entrance. Earlier in the evening, Ursula had led her troops through the back entrance after King Desmond provided an excuse to lure away General Murdock and the majority of the guards.
"Hmph, the brainless twits will lead those damnable Lycian lords to the other exit while I can make my escape here," she scoffed.
As she neared the threshold, Ursula could feel an odd chill that ran up the back of her spine. Turning around slowly, she saw nothing amiss before seeing a teleportation rune appear on the ground just outside of the palace grounds. Out of the rune strode Limstella, one of Nergal's prize pets.
It's only her, Ursula let out a sigh of relief, though I understand the price of failure, I still need to make my report…
A stab of pain shot through her veins like lightning, and Ursula beheld a slim katana that seemed to grow out of her chest. With nary a sound, a pale, dark-haired swordsman had dropped out of the alcoves above, landed silently behind her, and slew one of the Four Fangs with ease.
As she toppled from the saddle, Ursula could barely make out the man's words, "Pathetic. Here I thought the enemy commander would surely give me a mighty brawl worthy of my sword…" She could not make out any further words as the man swiftly departed.
"Such wonderful quintessence."
Such a pitiful end, Sonia thought as she expired, "Lady… Sonia…"
"Karel just came in," Matthew reported to the assembled lords and tacticians, "The enemy leader, Ursula of the Four Fangs, is no more."
"Our primary objectives have been completed," Mark said dispassionately, "The only thing that remains is to retreat from the Sunset Palace without exciting the notice of any Bern soldiers."
"That's true," Eliwood admitted, "It'd be quite a scandal if Bern's royal guard walked into the palace and found dead bodies everywhere with signs that Lycian troops participated in the battle."
"Oh, and by the way…" Matthew started.
"What are we going to do with Nino and Jaffar?" Cecilia asked, "They have both left the Fang, but to take them along with us?"
"Impossible," Hector said flatly, "Jaffar is responsible for Leila's death, and I mean to have him killed in her name."
"Excuse me, but I'd have dibs on him," Matthew interrupted again, "But I'd also like to point out that both Nino and Jaffar are no longer with us!"
That got their attention. "What do you mean?" Lyn asked.
"They left," Matthew said, "Bound for some unknown destination."
Hector cursed, "Damn it all! Now they're out of reach!"
"Not quite," Lyn corrected, "Remember, we did speak with Nino earlier during the battle, and she seemed quite distraught that her mother actually ordered her death. If I were her, I'd seek out the truth of those words."
"That doesn't help very much," Hector shot back, "We don't know where the hell Sonia is!"
"Pent does," Mark said calmly.
Cecilia realized why her mentors were deep in conversation before, "Lord Pent was never supposed to wait for our return," she said aloud, "Instead, he was to lead his taskforce and pursue any Black Fang stragglers!"
"And given that we eradicated the majority of the escapists," Eliwood caught on, "Nino and Jaffar would be the only two that would exit in the direction where we came from!"
"I'd advise checking in with Florina, Fiora, Farina, and Heath," Mark yawned, "Traveling by air is much more advisable than moving by horse."
"Cecilia, Eliwood, Lyn, come on!"
Matthew raised an eyebrow, "I see that you weren't invited along."
Mark traded him look for look, "And you were?"
"Hey, I'm not the one whose loyalty is in question."
'And I'm not the one who grasps his dagger and vows vengeance whenever Jaffar's name is mentioned."
"Touché."
Nino didn't know which was worse; being told that your mother wanted your head on a silver platter or returning to her and asking for the truth of it all. Frankly speaking, she'd be scared witless if Jaffar wasn't alongside her. Truth be told, the Angel of Death wasn't exactly the most sociable of companions, but at the very least he made sure no one was going to harm her.
The Water Temple where they would find Sonia was not a temple in the slightest. Instead, the entrance was cunningly concealed behind a large water fountain that lay in the town square of Mantris, a major town in rural Bern. In the bygone ages, earliest people that populated this area worshipped a lesser-known goddess named Talmina, who supposedly blessed their harvests with bountiful, life-nurturing rain and kept the harmful floods away. Many years after these people left, the people of Bern renovated the foundations and turned the location into a public fountain, from which the townspeople could draw a fresh supply of water. Unknown to the average citizen, the foundations were kept largely intact, and the secret place of worship was never revealed. The Black Fang, seeing that the ancient chamber was largely untouched and unmolested, converted the 'temple' for their own needs.
The original worshippers also had a curious ritual that they performed annually in Talmina's name. Designed by an ingenious architect, the chamber was slightly flooded with water and possessed paths that raised or sank at regular intervals. During festivals, youths were encouraged to attempt a dry crossing over these rising and sinking platforms. Those that passed this test were said to be blessed by Talmina herself. The Black Fang laughed at this ritual, but took advantage of the platforms as a natural defensive system. The Black Fang members who were privy to the secrets of this temple naturally memorized the pattern to which the platforms rose and fall. Certainly it'd not do to be trapped or encumbered by one's own defenses!
Along the way here, Jaffar could not shake the feeling that they were being followed. He doubled back a few times to check for pursuers, but was unable to find anyone in the darkness. Not wishing to alarm Nino, he had kept the search attempts brief and few in between.
As the pair moved swiftly over the platforms, Jaffar noted several heads bobbing in and out of the water. Anticipating Black Fang pirates waiting in ambush, the assassin never relinquished the tight hold on his twin daggers. Curiously, the bobbing heads dipped into the water, and then never rose again. Jaffar would never know that Dart and Geitz, both seasoned pirates in their own right, had been clearing out the little groups of unsuspecting pirates. Sure, the water warriors of the Fang were not idiots, but they were concentrating on the pair walking nimbly over the platforms and certainly not peering into 'friendly' waters looking for hostiles. Since he was not an adept swimmer, Jaffar chose to leave the mystery alone and focus on accompanying Nino.
Upon reaching the central platform within the chamber, of which a statue of Talmina still stood, Nino was in for a rude shock. Rolling down the small flight of stairs was the corpse of her father Brendan Reed. And strolling down the same stairs with Limstella at her back was none other than Sonia herself.
"Monster," Nino sobbed, "How could you do this to him? How could you do this to me?"
"Because you were filth," Sonia sneered, "Garbage that had to be removed for the glory of Lord Nergal. I see you are a failure at dying quietly, just as you are a failure in everything else."
"Nino is not a failure," Jaffar said emotionlessly, "But I promised her I'd kill you personally."
"Hm, I suppose not," Sonia said dismissively, "Being able to subvert Lord Nergal's toy, the Angel of Death! Quite a feat I suppose, but it matters little since both of you will die here. Limstella!"
The morph strode forward.
"Take this miserable piece of flesh away," Sonia gestured at Brendan's carcass, "The very sight of him is blasphemy to the perfection that I embody."
As the morph complied, Nino shouted in despair, "Why? Why do you do this when I am your flesh and blood?"
"Flesh and blood? You?" Sonia laughed, "You were naught but a babe whose family was laid to waste by Lord Nergal. They guarded the secret to the dragons and refused to divulge this information to me. So I killed them and kept you alive only because Lord Nergal believed you'd be of some use. He was, for once, wrong."
Jaffar unsheathed his blades and Nino drew forth an Elfire tome. "You're no perfect being! You're a monster in human form! I will show you no mercy!"
"Monster?" Sonia shrieked as she leveled a Fimbulvetr spell at Nino, who was whisked aside by Jaffar, "I will have your head for that, whelp!"
A fearsome magic battle began at those words. Elfire and Fimbulvetr spells spat back and forth, some slicing into the waters, others shattering venerable stone, and still others detonating in the ceiling. Sonia was no fool in battle, and well noted that while Nino was a somewhat competent magician, her skills paled in comparison to Jaffar. The Angel of Death was a fearsome foe in his own right, but so long as Sonia could keep him at a distance with magic, the battle would be far easier.
Nino, on the other hand, had scarcely tasted actual combat. There were quite a few instances where Jaffar was forced to halt his own attack and dash back to pull the young girl out of harm's way. It was during one of these attempts that Sonia, seeing Jaffar's distracted state, flung a second Fimbulvetr spell near the assassin's feet. While the man succeeded in pushing Nino away, the ice spell impacted on the ground around him and encased his legs in a solid block of ice.
"Jaffar!"
"Ha, foolish mortals!" Sonia panted slightly in exertion, "You were idiots to think even your combined strength could stand against me! Guards, take them away!"
"That might be difficult."
Sonia barely managed to twist aside as a hand ax imbedded itself into wall where she stood but moments before. Turning around, she saw eight fighters and spell casters on the central platform scarcely a dozen feet away, three of which appeared to be Lycian lords. During the heat of battle, neither of them had noticed that observers were present.
"Geitz, Dart, and Hawkeye sort of dealt with your morphs already," a teal-haired mage informed Sonia.
"And now I'll even this battle," a gray-haired sage said, "Nino, go for the legs!"
Sage and mage both directed Elfire spells at Sonia. Taking a deep breath, Sonia could've laughed aloud when she saw Nino's haphazardly fired spell miss her by the tiniest of fractions.
"Feh, to even think your spell can match mine," Sonia gloated at the sage when she countered, only to find the two spells canceling each other.
"You underestimate me," the sage smiled slightly at Sonia's surprise, "I am Pent, Mage General of Etruria, and you will not find me easy prey."
"The Mage General-" Sonia spat out blood as her words were cut short by a pair of sharp knives piercing her back, "Wha-?"
"I promised Nino that I'd kill you personally," Jaffar let the dying Sonia slide slowly to floor before he sheathed the twin daggers, "And now I fulfill that vow."
"Im… Impossible…" Sonia gasped, "I… I… am… per… perfect…"
"Perfectly dead," Pent said in disgust.
The golden eyes darted a hateful glare at Pent before slowing gazing off into infinity.
Chapter complete, I apologize for the delay. Thank you for reading and please review if you're able to spare the time.