Thank you all ever so much! I've never had so much reviews in such a short time! I'm delighted! Excited! Glad! Fortunate! Grateful! Happy! Exuberant! Extatic:-)

Just to clarify a little thing… I've had classes of English since I'm about ten, but I could hardly make a sentence. Until, on my 16th birthday, my mother bought me a computer and internet access (that was quite an awesome gift… I would have preferred a horse at the time, but eh, we're not rich and a horse is horribly expansive if you don't have a barn, and a horse wouldn't fit into my apartment now!). So I discovered the marvellous world of internet… 80 or so of which is in English. So I learnt English. That is what I mean when I say that I came to English "late" in my life, but that still leaves me a few years since to read and listen to TV a lot :-). After doing so twice myself, I give congratulations to anyone with the actual courage to be learning someone else's tongue.

I'm rather relieved too that you didn't find the last chapter completely… uhm… "quétaine" wouldn't mean much to you eh… cheesy? I kinda hesitated for two years before I actually brought myself to writing anything of the sort about Tyrael because I just felt like Atsanit – for Heaven's sake, he's an Archangel! I can't be writing this sort of stuff about him, can I?

And just a side note of curiosity, especially addressed to you, Aditu, since when exactly have you "known"? Was it clear from chapter 1, or later on?

BloodHeron: thank you very much.

Tegaladwen: thank you very much too.

Salem's Darkness: lol you're back! I've certainly noticed your whirlwind attack on my reviews' account eheheh And… would you please tell me what XDOMG is supposed to mean? And (-scowling-) you know that Tyrael doesn't just distribute hugs around, you do? And Atsanit didn't ask! Jamella did :-)

And I'm also curious why all of your names sound like masculine (well… I could be mistaken), while romance is a traditionally feminine favourite style.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeesh longest ever intro to a story… gonna boost my word count by … dunno… 200? So, now…

Chapter 8. Failed

She went up the slopes to the Mount's summit, using underground tunnels when necessary. She broke the siege closest to the gates, freed the Barbarian prisoners, discovered Nihlatak's treachery, freed Anya, and finally reached the summit, where the Ancients were. She did not have the Sacred relic, which was now Baal's possession, and had to go through the old way, hacking through ancient manifestations of power to prove herself worthy. She used her guerrilla tactic and ran on all sides, avoiding three Ancients together, as she shot Ice orbs, her newest and most powerful spell, in all directions. And she entered the Worldstone's temple, the new playground to Baal, Lord of Destruction.

Many Barbarians had proposed to accompany her on her quest as mercenaries. She had just smiled, saying that, if she had gone through the Burning Hells on her own, she could surely do this alone. Qual-Kehk had shrugged, saying some of his men were always ready to help her if she changed her mind.

She did not. She cleansed the slopes, the tunnels and the temple's floors alone, demons running to their death each time they faced her. She prayed to the Light as she fought, when she was not too busy with incantations, and it seemed that Baal's focus on her was more confused when she prayed. She could stay still a while longer without him calling lightning or poison upon her.

She finally reached the last floor of the temple. Even her, a simple mortal, could feel the power of the Worldstone here; it made magic hum and shiver between her hands as she was summoning it.

She faced the succubi that served Baal, running away to hide behind a wall's corner when they cursed her in a way that drained her of her life instead of mana when she was casting spells. Casting high-demanding spells as was her Ice orb, she always emptied herself of her life rapidly when they did. But she defeated them. All of them.

And she came face to face with Baal, Lord of Destruction, standing on his eight demonic legs on a small platform holding a portal no doubt leading to the Worldstone's chamber.

"You will not have the Worldstone," Atsanit said. "I have defeated both your brothers, and I will defeat you."

"I am afraid you will not have that pleasure," Baal answered. "I even believe you will not even have the honour to die at my hands."

The demon raised a hand then, and she was faced with a group of fallen ones, the annoying little monsters. They were, obviously, no match to Ice orbs. Hordes of demons followed one another, leaping at the Sorceress at Baal's bidding. She vanquished them all, sometimes running far back into the temple, out of sight of the Prime Evil, in her run to escape spells or hand-to-hand confrontation with physically superior opponents. But eventually she killed the last Ancient Horadrim he threw at her, and came back to face him, walking slowly.

He burst into laughter, and crossed the gate. She gathered a few potions from the ground, where monsters had let them fall in their death, before they were able to drink them. She restocked her sash, drank a rejuvenation potion to regain some stamina, and crossed the portal after Baal.

In a flash, she remembered Cain saying that Baal was preventing Tyrael from taking physical form into the Worldstone chamber, and cursed herself for having the foolishness of facing that demon alone. If he could stop an Archangel from taking form, who knew what he was capable of in the ways of magic. But it was no time to hesitate, and Atsanit prayed.

She landed to the side of the Worldstone. She looked up and down into the depths and heights of the chamber at the Worldstone in a moment of awe. Then demonic appendages pierced the ground around her, and she started casting her spells to freeze them, searching for Baal with her eyes.

She saw with a little unease that he was very close to the Worldstone; he was tracing something on its surface, saying power words in the tongue of the demons. The only way to reach him was a narrow stone bridge, where there was no way for her to escape his spells if he decided to throw something at her.

She ran there nonetheless, and ran straight at him, an Ice orb before her. Of course, he answered in kind, with a wave of spiralling energy that reminded Atsanit of Diablo's power; only this one was not a focused beam, but a wave she could not dodge. She was pushed back by the force of it, her mana and life half gone when the spirits let go of her.

She hid at the side of the bridge, at an angle from which Baal could not reach her with spells, and downed two potions, one after the other. Then she started firing an Ice orb each time she passed before the bridge, but running immediately to the other side. She was caught a few times by a wave of spirits or of ice, Baal being far from stupid and anticipating her moves, but the manoeuvre proved too little effective to the Lord of Destruction's taste, and he suddenly teleported right next to her.

Atsanit doubled vigour as she ran around him in circles, firing spells at him and drinking potions way too often for her liking, but she had ample space to teleport away and drink potions if necessary. Her whole body was in pain, from all the spells she had took, despite the potions. Baal was hurting too, she could tell, but his spells did not waver, and she was very careful not to come within range of his claws.

At a time, he spawned a copy of himself, but her Ice orbs hit both equally. He was close to death, and she cast frenetically, avoiding his waves of energy as best she could. First the copy fell, then, two Ice orbs later, the Prime Evil.

He released a wave of spirits the second before he was hit by the body of the Ice orb, and Atsanit was not able to dodge, busy casting her own spell. The spirits drilled through her body, and tried to tear her apart as they were pushing her away from Baal's dying carcass. They escaped of her chest, breaking a few of her ribs, and she fell to the ground, writhing in pain, her lungs filling with blood.

She dragged herself to her knees, her breath a rasping, whistling thing, and managed to drink a potion. She walked slowly to Baal's body, spilling his guts out, his demonic legs twitching. She removed the Soulstone from his chest, in a raging gesture. Then it happened again, the demon shrinking back to human size, a broken body that had harboured a demon's strength and essence. She knelt. She remembered this one was Tal Rasha, the great Horadrim, having sacrificed himself so that Baal would be imprisoned forever. He had given not only his body, but his soul to the eternal fight, and even her had not done so much for the world in her fight against the Three.

"Baal is trapped, and defeated, Tal Rasha," she started. The eyes of the Horadrim mage turned to her. His breathing was slowing. "Your battle is over. Go in peace to the Light for your courage and sacrifice, Tal Rasha." And he closed his eyes, Atsanit's hand on his cheek, a gesture of compassion that would carry him through the realms of the dead.

Then the Worldstone's chamber started to violently shake, and Atsanit fell to the ground, unable to keep her balance, too wounded and tired, and the will for the fight gone from her heart. She tried to remember the sacred importance of her duty to destroy the Soulstone. But she thought of the Wanderer gone, of Sankekur betraying his duty, of Tal Rasha fighting for millennia against Baal for nothing. She felt her insignificancy, all her efforts apparently lost as the Worldstone started to shake the whole world. She had failed. She had been too late for the Wanderer, for Diablo to cross the gate to Hell, for Baal to raise his demonic army and come here to corrupt the Worldstone. What did it matter that Baal's Soulstone was buried here with the corpse of two Heroes that had merely delayed his plan for a time? She started to cry, and asked forgiveness for her failure. She resisted the urge to try to justify herself, to say that she had done the quickest she could possibly do. She stayed there as stone started to fall from the ceiling, far above. Soon, she would be buried, and demonic armies would spawn from the corrupted Worldstone into the Barbarian lands, and from there to the rest of Sanctuary. She cried, and prayed for forgiveness.