Chapter 66: Pyre

Zhonoch brought his sword down with all the care he could muster. The human still struggled to meet and hold the blunted cleaver with his primitive iron shield. It was not encouraging. Not in the slightest.

"You're a warrior?" Zhonoch questioned, more out of surprise than anything else.

The human scowled and tried to push back. Zhonoch grumbled and lifted his sword, all so the native could catch his breath. "I... am..."

"Not a professional, that's for sure," Zhonoch grunted with some irritation - but in Ulurant. Torobatl had taught him how to hold his tongue, and though Calatonar was no Torobatl... well, there was no need to ostracize another auxiliary force. Damn Erechaani. Humans, though? Really? They weren't all that effective. Besides Merida-X8 of course, but he was something else - something other than mortal. So Invoctol had claimed. Something beyond simple flesh-and-bone. What that meant, he had no idea.

Why couldn't they have one of those? Where were the rest of Merida-X8's kind? The Cabal Empire needed soldiers like them. Broodqueen-killers were in short supply. Even a handful would have sufficed. Instead they had the civilians. The farmers and their sons, with little experience and less courage. Not one of Carvahall's inhabitants knew how to fire a gun - by Acrius, not even a basic basic projectile weapon beyond the odd bow! Humans couldn't even swing a sword strong enough to kill an Acolyte, let alone an armoured Knight or battlesuit-clad Erechaani savage. Not to mention there was barely a sword for half the fighters in the village, and all of those had been stolen from the corpses of soldiers they had killed with pitchforks and stakes.

"Lift your shield," Zhonoch snapped, gruffer than he intended. The human struggled to do exactly that, gasping and sweating in abundance. At least he had drive. Finding the right reasons to fight on was half the battle - or so his old Valus-commander had said.

But what was it Invoctol had said? About this human in particular? Something about a stolen mate. Tragic, really - but there were bigger things to worry about. "What do you know of our enemies?" Zhonoch asked, swinging his cleaver in mocking slow motion.

The human grunted. "You were betrayed."

"By the Erechaani, yes."

"They aren't giants like you. Nor do they resemble your..."

"Psions," Zhonoch grunted, amused. "I must admit, smallman, I like this name you give us. Ha, giants indeed!"

The human didn't laugh. He was the sombre sort, quiet and intense. What was his name again? Roril? Roreum? Something along those lines. Wait... Roran, that was it! His loyalty was questionable and his aims were perhaps too far afield, but Invoctol vouched for him - and Zhonoch trusted Invoctol.

The ground quaked. The human yelped; Zhonoch merely glanced up at the distant mountain ridge. Plumes of smoke and dust gradually climbed up above the peaks, thick and heavy. He onlined his commlink and said, "Valus Shu'av, report: what are you doing?"

The reply fizzled back. "-othing extreme, Vigilant. Clearing away Hive debris, as per the Primus's orders. My boys hit a chitin chunk is all. Amarz Amalz is still going strong."

"She better be," Zhonoch growled warningly. "That's our reserve holdfast right there."

"You think I'd ruin her? She's our own Princess-Imperial; our saving grace in this lobotomized mess."

"Is that you trying to curry favour?"

"We could be shot as traitors after we've seized this world." Despite his words, Shu'av didn't sound all that concerned. "Inciting the Princess's name might earn us her mercy."

"By Acrius's gleaming sword, you are shameless."

"That's a Soulrazer's lot in life, Vigilant, and you well know it."

Zhonoch harrumphed and switched off his communicator. The human was staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "Who-?" the primitive creature began to ask.

"Shu'av."

"Ah."

An alert popped up across his sensorium's hallucinatory screen. Zhonoch tossed his cleaver back to waiting Cre'aet. "Primus has requested my presence. You there, Psion? Educate the human on the ten Imperial Writs of Battle. I will ask after them when I return."

The Operant present, Ozmoc, bowed his head. "As you command, Vigilant."

"Zhonoch."

He turned, surprised, and looked at the human. At Roran. "What is it?"

Roran's face was unreadable, but the look he sent was pointed - meaningful. "Ask Invoctol when he intends to fulfill his end of our bargain."

Zhonoch stared at him. Finally, he said, "I'll mention it."

With a curt nod to each of the three, Zhonoch left and marched across the fields back to the camp. A portion of land had been set aside for martial purposes, mostly training any prospective native warriors - volunteers, of course. Invoctol had a softer touch than many planetary governors, but his ambitions bounded farther afield. Or Tlac's ambitions did. Tlac and Cadon and Orche. Now Invoctol. Now one.

By Acrius, Psions were confusing.

To alleviate the local concerns of land going to waste, Invoctol had assigned what few Worldbreaker and Soulrazer quartermasters had survived the Hive purge towards introducing more productive farming techniques. The present crops were different from those found across the Cabal Empire and the native cattle came with all the complexities that followed understanding newly-discovered forms of multicellular alien life, but in the broad sense it was much the same. It helped that a couple of their soldiers were farm runaways themselves, having enlisted in the legions to escape grueling lives spent toiling on agriculturally-inclined colony worlds. And then there were the Psions, who once more worked their weird magic and swung their minds all around like recently-promoted Colossi awarded their very own slug launchers. Crops grew fast under their watchful eyes. Herds of domesticated beasts moved exactly as they ordered, no straying involved. A fine solution - up until the natives got spooked and Invoctol was forced to call off the Flayers or risk alienating his new vassals.

It was messy business, leading others. Zhonoch was glad, deep down, that he had been skipped over for becoming the acting Primus. Command didn't agree with him. Tlac and his brothers - now one, now Invoctol, remember! - were better suited to the task.

He arrived at the shielded prefab assigned as headquarters and waited. The tusked Centurion guards saluted and the doors slid open. Zhonoch pushed through the orange energy-shield and into the building, marching into the office and standing tall with his eyes trained on the opposite wall. "You summoned me?"

The door shut behind him.

"I did," Invoctol said. He sounded tired, but... warm too. Amused. "You don't have to speak to me that way."

"Don't I?" Zhonoch tried smiling back. It was hard, because the person he was looking at was his friend, his trusted Specialist, his Flayer comrade-in-arms, but two others as well. He cleared his throat. "Have Neuroc's reports come in?"

"Yes." Invoctol lifted up a datapad. "They have. And they have illuminated much."

"The location of the Eliksni camp?"

"No. The outlaws took care in hiding where they were staying, but... we suspect an elven settlement."

"Elves are-"

"Another subspecies of human, yes. My analysts have concluded that the Eliksni have forged an alliance with them, similar to human subject Merida-X8. Though how far this goes, we don't know - only that they have been trusted with the location of one of their hidden cities." The Primus tapped at his device. "Yet now Neuroc tells me they've moved on."

"For the duel," Zhonoch said with a nod.

"Yes." Invoctol's face twisted with distaste. "That Krinok beast is not being subtle. He wants to win - and to send a message to everyone with a radio planetside."

"Ambitious."

"An ambitious brute achieves little. He won't survive the week."

Zhonoch's eyes widened. "Are we moving against them?"

Invoctol barked out a humourless laugh. "Us? No. We barely have the numbers to hold our current position."

"But we have a Land Tank."

"And they have a Ketch," Invoctol pointed out. "Incapable of flight as of our last scouts to dare range south, but these are Eliksni - they always find a way."

Zhonoch grimaced. Retrieving the Amarz Amalz had been a single sorely needed victory in a long string of defeats. It was their saving grace, just as Shu'av said. The stepping stone they needed to get back to their feet and continue with their mission: drawing Calatonar into the arms of the Empire.

But against a Ketch? Suddenly their stepping stone looked a little unsteady.

"Then how?" He continued, worried curiosity winning over.

"Neuroc sends word that Merida-X8 is stepping in. Something about the Scar Kell's mistreatment of local noncombatants has irked him." Invoctol breathed in deep. "Providing that Krinok is dealt with in a clean and succinct manner, the Eliksni will not be our immediate concern."

"No?"

"They will war with each other before turning to us. So it has always been where the 'noble' Houses of Riis are concerned."

Zhonoch grunted noncommittally. "But the Hive..."

"Yes," Invoctol groaned. "The Hive."

"They march for power."

"They leave power behind." Invoctol waved a hand. A hologram crackled into view over his desk, depicting the northern sector of the Spine. "The Darkblade's absence provides an opportunity."

"Another attempt at reclaiming the Magnus Vae?" Zhonoch stepped closer, fingers drumming along the desk. "It didn't fare well for us last time."

"We claimed the Amarz Amalz."

"And no more than that. Those Hive have dug in. We can't cut them out. That time is gone."

"Agreed. Then we remove only what pieces we need - equipment from the communications hub, the armoury's larder, an oil drill, maybe even a portable surveillance post or two."

"And the rest?" Zhonoch inquired.

"Give it to the fire. The Hive will have nothing from us."

"You mean to-"

"Set off the primary reactor. Burn out the Hive and their poisonous Worms. We'll lose the headland and the carrier to the blast, but we never had the power to take them anyways." Invoctol laid down his datapad and sighed. "We must organize another thunder run, strike deep into the Magnus Vae and reach its core. I am considering Shu'av to lead. He did well last time."

"The human was involved last time," Zhonoch said carefully. "Merida-X8."

"And provided limited assistance."

"As well as necessary information beforehand. The retrieval of our Land Tank wouldn't have even occurred if he hadn't offered up what he had learned in the nest." Zhonoch shook his head. "I don't like this."

"Destroying the carrier?"

"No, that is likely our best course of action where the nest is concerned, but... the human warned us. The real power of the Hive lies in their leadership. With the Broodqueen dead, the Darkblade has all the power. They stand to seize another place of power while we dawdle in the muck."

"You propose attacking?" Invoctol asked, surprised.

"We can catch them."

"Yes, but can we defeat them?"

"With the Amarz Amalz? Yes."

"It would mean picking up all we have and betting it all on an offensive."

"We are Cabal. Our only path is forward - to new heights and greater glories."

"They are Hive. Their only road is north - to power."

"All the more reason to kill them now."

Invoctol looked back at the hologram. "The power they chase is not their own. The human's warning makes sense, but the resident Dark sycophants - this Strife Cult - stands to do our work for us."

"Silvered pirates," Zhonoch growled. "Can't believe they attacked us. Us!"

"Enemies of the empire. Let them fall on each other's blades."

"One will survive. One will grow. The Hive grow fat on death."

"Grow strong," Invoctol corrected. "Hive are lean. Any and all excess is spent towards sating those parasites of theirs. They have no choice but to bite big."

"All the same-"

"All the same, I will not risk lives on exterminating a pest already slated to die."

"We might not have a choice," Zhonoch grumbled. "Leaving them to their own devices is exactly how we lost-"

The ground shook again. He would have waved it off as another of Shu'av's attempts at cleaning the Amarz Amalz if not for the sudden onset of sharp data filling his cybernetically-implanted sensorium. Zhonoch winced and zoned the static-infested channels out, focusing instead only on those whose voices counted - the scouts and the officers.

"Contact!" Val Erestus bellowed. "Bearing northwest, Vex timeporta- no, negative, not Vex! Harmony!"

Zhonoch looked at Invoctol, hopes plummeting. He turned abruptly and raced out, shoving the doors open. The Centurion twins outside were already raising Bronto cannons, not at him but up up up, over the prefab-

He swiveled, wrist-blades already engaged, but the tall slim creature hanging over the edge of the prefab whispered, "Waíse edr."

His limbs locked up. His eyelids froze. Even his lungs ceased their contractions. Zhonoch tried sucking in a gasp, but he couldn't. It was like the hand of a god had reached down to grab him and said STOP. On the edge of his vision he saw that the same had befallen one of the Centurions, and given that he wasn't hearing any shots then her twin must have fallen victim to the same.

Invoctol, though, stepped out of his office unaffected. His single-eyed stare fell on Zhonoch, then the Centurions, and then up but it was too late, the silver creature was leaping down with its spear aimed at the Primus's head and-

Shot back as a force of pure Intention flew from the fused Flayer's eye, slamming it against the wall. Invoctol hissed and moved for the Harmonic warrior, grabbing hold of its spear and aiming it up at the sky just as it released a beam of white-hot flames.

What?!

The silver creature whistled shrilly. "Ono weohna-"

"Silence!" Invoctol seethed. A whip of psychokinetic energy wrapped around the horned creature's neck and tightened, cutting into metallic hide. The creature struggled and lashed out with the hand not clutching at its spear, but Invoctol caught it with his mind and broke the offending limb's wrist, then tugged the spear free and lodged it deep in his attacker's chest.

All too suddenly the force holding Zhonoch still completely disappeared, dropping him to the ground. He sucked in greedy gulps of air and dragged himself to his feet. The camp was in chaos. There were other brawls happening across the Cabal lines, completely at random, and from the northwest more lines of spear-fired heat were tearing through their perimeter to devastating effect.

Harmony. Attacking. In force.

"We barely have the numbers to hold our position," Invoctol groaned.

Zhonoch cursed under his breath. How had they arrived so-

There was a flicker behind him, three Goliath lengths away, of a portal gaping open. He suddenly understood Erestus's mistake; for a moment he feared the worst and though it was the machines of time and logic, but no, it was cleaner, it was a gleaming thing of magic and grace and through it stepped two spear-wielding warriors of height with the tallest of Colossi. One of them bore shifting limb-like spikes from its shoulder all down its back, like the upturned belly of a Torobatlaan beetle. It looked past them, at the body of its dead brethren, and then to the gathered Cabal.

"Oh, fyrn-branar," it said darkly in a deep sing-song voice. "Ono eru weohnata kunna verkr..."

000

Ikharos tossed Javek aside, out of the way. The Splicer weighed more than he looked. Probably because of all the equipment and exoskeleton he was lugging around, but oh well. It got him out of the way - just as the chimera of a dragon crashed down on Ikharos with snapping jaws and swinging paws. Fangs snagged his arm and held it still, slipping into the vulnerable flesh below the sleeve and crunching down. Talons lashed his back.

He screamed. He thrashed. He fought back, lashing out with a shimmering Void-coated blade. The chimera shrieked its own agonies and let go. Ikharos hit the stones, rolled and suppressed another bubbling cry of pain, and brought his blade to bear. The Ahamkara inched back, wary of the sword's burning touch. It gave him room to breathe, at least.

Right up until it didn't. Both heads surged forth, hungry for bloodied Light. Ikharos whipped his sword at them whenever they got close, but it was a battle he had no hope of winning. He stepped back, one foot at a time, and fended off the chimera as best as he was able. He had the Light for it, no doubt, but with everything around... he needed to watch his reserves.

"I said run!" Xiān urged all too loudly. "There's-"

"I don't have time!" Ikharos snarled. The beast released twin streams of oily fire from both maws, clashing against the violet ward he only just managed to erect in time.

"Argh, fine! I'll do this myself!"

"Do wha-"

The Ahamkara lunged forward. Ikharos ducked under the first bite and struck up. Néhvaët pierced under the creature's chin and up through the roof of its mouth, emerging from the top of its snout with a brief spray of red. The lion head shrieked and shuddered. Its brother was not pleased - and it dished out its displeasure by snapping down on Ikharos's leg. His plasteel plating cracked and dented, but it held.

The bones beneath did not.

Ikharos hissed out a cry of his own. He tore away, dragging his sword with him, and the Ahamkara stumbled back. Claws smashed at the ground as it snarled and keened, almost tumbling over itself in shock and hurt. The residual Void left by his sword's enchanted edge was far from kind.

Javek raced over and tugged at Ikharos's shoulder, dragging him back. Ikharos bit his cheek and flushed his handheld Rift towards his leg, mending the break. When that was done, he stood up, shook off the Splicer's hand and pointed his blade towards the dragon well on its way to recovering.

He could already feel Elkhon coming back, nowhere near far enough for them to make their escape, and with the-

"Finally!" Xiān crowed.

"What-" Ikharos started to ask, but then he heard it - an Eliksni Walker rounding the corner and groaning as its red tracer found the Ahamkara. "Oh."

The chimera turned around just in time to get a face full of missile. The heavy Solar-round ripped straight through the dragon's body, flitted past Ikharos while spraying steaming blood in all directions, and crashed into the cottages behind with a deafening blast. The Ahamkara shuddered; one of its heads was completely gone and its body had almost been torn in two. It fell over on its ruined side and didn't get up.

That settles that, Ikharos thought flippantly. He turned, glared at Javek and said, "Get the hell out. Now!"

"Nama," the Splicer stubbornly replied.

"This isn't the time to-"

The Walker crumpled. A molten maul had slammed down onto its spine, crunching into its core. The weapon's owner tugged her hammer out, leapt down from the dying war machine and locked eyes with Ikharos. Elkhon scowled fiercely.

"Bloody hell," Ikharos cursed. He filled his hands with Void. "C'mon then. Let's-"

Elkhon burst forth, faster than he expected, and slammed her maul down on the ground. A wave of flames spewed forth. Javek darted away with a yelp, jumping for the buildings, and Ikharos Blinked past - almost on top of the Shade. She gave a start and swung, but Ikharos Blinked again, past it, and delivered a cheeky nick to her calf. The hadium steel bit in, neither deeply nor shallowly, and Elkhon almost buckled. Ikharos retreated away from her backhanded swipe, Blinking behind her and lancing his blade through her back. Elkhon growled and moved just as he struck - and Néhvaët missed her heart by mere inches.

Elkhon ripped herself away and twirled, maul headed right for his head - but Ikharos had Blinked again. He released his right-handed grip and drew his knife, slashing with direction and rage. Each hand moved independently, drawing lines in her armour and then into her skin beneath. She fought back as well as she could, but Ikharos was almost choking on the overflow of Void filling his system, tearing him through space again and again whenever she so much as twitched.

He sliced her hamstrings, he tore away her pauldrons and cuirass, he caught her maul's haft on his sword's crescent-moon guard and locked it in place. It gave him the opening he needed; Ikharos viciously lashed out with his knife and tore Elkhon's throat out with a dash of blood and misted Darkness. She choked and died - and re-manifested mere moments later, breathing heavily. Her maul was gone, her Light was scattered, it was just what he needed to kill her again and again and again until she learned not to come back.

Ikharos lanced her through the shoulder, drove his knife through her temple and then wrenched his weapons away. Elkhon perished - again. She came back. He eviscerated her from shoulder to hip. She came back. He beheaded her. She came back. He ran her through three times in quick succession, ramming his longsword through her ruined ribcage over and over.

Elkhon still came back. There was no Ghost involved. Not from what Ikharos could see. Not from what he could feel.

She levered herself back into a standing position, gasping for breath and grinning. Widely. Toothily. Like a madwoman. Her filed fangs were laced with dripping streams of crimson and slithering trails of shadow. Ikharos snarled. His Light spiked and raced down his arm, running along his raised sword and tearing from the hadium tip as another crackling beam of Arc.

Elkhon raised a purple shield before her and caught the beam on its boss. Ikharos forced more and more energy into his Chaos Reach, flushing it full of potent Light and savage determination. The Sentinel Shield held. Worse: it outlasted his Arc entirely. Elkhon's smile grew. She dragged her greatsword from over her back and charged.

Ikharos tossed his knife at her head. Elkhon's shield raised up, slapping the flung blade away. That was fine, it freed his other hand. Ikharos filled it with molten rage, forming a second sword to go with his still-sparkling first. His robes lit up and broad wings of solid flame unfolded from his back, catching hold of the air and forcing on him an almost weightless feeling. Ikharos Blinked again, surging with Solar and Void both. Elkhon retreated from his dual swords, bringing her shield to bear. He rained down blow after blow onto the barricade, the obstacle between him and his prey, and gritted his teeth. It wasn't breaking.

Damn.

Elkhon pushed back, giving her a split second and half-metre of room, and in swung her greatsword. It was a cold, cold thing, full of Darkness and absent of everything else. Ikharos jerked back; he just instinctively knew that getting cut was going to spell his end. He decided to avoid it like the plague, which should have been easy given how large and lumbering the weapon was. Not so in Elkhon's hands. She cast it to and fro with reckless abandon, almost too fast for him to catch sight of. Ikharos parried the first swing to actually get near him and stabbed with his other blade, but her shield was there again. His frustration built and built, only further fueling the raging roar of his hissing Dawnblade. His wings flapped, once, raising him up just to fall down with both swords angled for a skewering strike. Elkhon smapped both swords aside with her shield and went for a counterattack, but Ikharos turned the redirected momentum of his deflected thrust into a brief glide, forcing some breathing space.

Elkhon chased, sword held like a lance and shield protecting her head. Ikharos swept to the side, smashed his weapons down to hold her blade in place and brought his helm against her unprotected face. Something crunched - on either side. Elkhon staggered back, her nose a mess. Ikharos himself blinked rapidly, momentarily dazed, and realized a part of his helmet's visor had cracked open. He rushed her, and like clockwork Elkhon raised her shield. Ikharos skidded, forcing his heels into the cobble pavement below, and kicked up a burst of cinders and fire as he brought his swords to bear. The Shade yelped and gasped as her front was seared black and red. His blades moved in tandem, crashing against her defense, and with one flourishing feint he managed to swat her blade out of the way and move in to-

Her shield smacked against him, throwing him right back into a wall - and then through. The wood-and-stone structure groaned around him. It lit up where his wings flitted over old furniture and floorboards, but he was long since past caring about property damage. Elkhon stepped through the molten rupture in the wall, shield held before her and sword tip resting just above. They clashed again, slashing and kicking and flinging each other across the collapsing house around them. Elkhon headbutted him and tossed him through the far wall, right into the adjacent building. They struggled some more, then Ikharos ran her through and drove her forward into the next house, and the next, and the next. They fought and fought and fought, tearing through everything in their way.

They were on the street again, tumbling out of a collapsing building with their swords locked together and their intertwined Light ever-shifting, ever-striking. Ikharos heard Eliksni shouts and then sensed oncoming Arc bolts. He twisted about, forcing Elkhon into the barrage and yelled in Low Speak, "Kill her, she's Dark, she's Dark, she's got the Maw in her heart!"

The Arcfire focused and intensified. Elkhon stood in place, shield long since shattered and armour pierced in a dozen places, and she weathered the storm. Right up until Ikharos took her head off. She came back - just not there. Ikharos sensed the knot of Darkness a short distance away, possibly a few blocks only. Gathering her strength, he reckoned.

At least it gave him time too.

"Get word to your Ketch!" Ikharos gasped, falling to his knees. Traveler above, he was drained. Hurting too, but that was neither important nor concerning. He could live with bruises; no need to waste his fast depleting stores of Light on more rezzes. "Harmony are here! Same for-"

The pack of Eliksni staring at him suddenly found something much more interesting to gawk at down the street. Ikharos turned over. There was Javek, running on five limbs while the sixth clutched... Lennox's knife! But - past that, further down, a glittering disc widened up out of thin air. It reminded him of an Awoken portal, all magic and starlight and acausal energy, but cleaner. Brighter. It flickered a pale silver - like a chrome-white glassy whirlwind. Out of stepped two figures, one humanoid and the other decidedly not. The latter was a jaguar with boar tusks, only it was the size of a rhino. The first, though, was a Harmony warrior with two thin Hobgoblin-like tails trailing behind and armlets of obsidian black around both of its wrists. A length of tattered red cloth was tied between its twin horns, both standing up high rather than backswept as was the Harmony norm, and the length of cloth was stamped with a symbol not unlike an arrowhead breaking out of an egg. The silver giant radiated pure Darkness. Just like Elkhon, but... stronger, somehow.

It held no spear.

The Harmony saw them and laid a hand down on the scruff of its pet Ahamkara's neck. The crystallic eye singled out Ikharos and the giant trilled eagerly. "Ah, Traitorborn! Himmenburthro! You are here, to greet me! So polite - but would I expect anything less from He-Who-Avenges-The-Song?"

Ikharos levered himself up on Néhvaët and scowled. "What is wrong with you people?"

"Wrong? Nothing. Or there will not be, when our Song is perfected - when princely Nezarec, söngr-dáeda, finishes his great work."

"The senseless slaughter of innocent people?!"

The Harmony creature curiously tilted its head. "You heard the King's words. A terrible beast of a monarch, to be sure, but His words rang true. Better the universe ends in a grisly manner than lives in it. But worry not; this Song we forge carries all the best parts of us all. You will hear it and rejoice." The warrior flexed its silvered fingers. "If you come with us."

Ikharos spat blood. It was all the answer he was willing to give.

"So be it," the Harmony rumbled, and it shrugged: what can you do? "Then your crimes cannot be ignored. I am Muse-maiden, battle-proven and Absence-tested, and I judge you now. For the murder of Midha and his sons, I, Orainthair of the Seventh Continental Opera, charge you with these murders and condemn you to die." Its eye flashed. "Dance with us, o Himmenburthro."

The Darkness surrounding the silver warrior flushed and materialized a cloud of crackling cold. It was... it was pure negentropy, a force almost as hungry as the Void itself, a near-living process by which the warrior could herd disorderly matter into true perfection. The Harmony flicked its - her? - hand. Something like frost slithered along the ground, almost too fast to make out - but it wasn't frost and that was what terrified him so - and it culminated in a spike of crystal. Ikharos Blinked aside. The Vandal behind wasn't so quick and was picked up by the flawless lance. The not-ice - a complete lack of entropy manifested as matter, rendered to absolute null - covered the Eliksni warrior from head to toe. Their shrapnel launcher fell from frozen fingers. Their life evaporated on the spot. It had been nearly instantaneous. Mortal flesh, absent of all paracausal pull, had no defense towards the sheer tyranny of pure Darkness energy. Ikharos could feel it, like claws delicately sliding over his skin; the Vandal's very atoms had been grabbed and, much like the air around it, forced into perfection. Not a single atom was out of line. From inside out they had been reformed as perfect crystal.

The other Eliksni cried out and scampered away from their murdered comrade, fleeing for their lives. For his part Ikharos could do nothing but stare. He couldn't... comprehend what he was seeing. Even the Hive hadn't that kind of power - not even Oryx! What stood before him wasn't a scrap of secondhand power teased on by soul-kindling to become flawed emerald fire; it was genuine, actual Darkness. And the Harmony wielded it. As easily as he did the Light.

Javek stopped beside him and made to reach out to the deceased Vanal. Ikharos grabbed his hand and pulled it back, eyes drifting back to the Harmony. The giant alien exulted in what she had done. She leered at them, even with her lack of a face, and crowed, "See, Traitorborn? There is the King's truth before your very eyes. Sjon älf. Trúa älf. Taune älf." (See it. Believe it. Take it.)

Ikharos glared. "Nae." (Never.)

The Harmony hummed. "As you wish."

"Wish?" The Ahamkara whispered, shuddering delightfully.

"Yes," its Harmonic master told it. "Wish. I wish for the Skyborn's death. Bring me his heart."

With a triumphant snarl the jaguar ran forwards, paws flashing over cobbled road.

000

Old Krinok snarled as he was dealt yet another grievous cut. He came back for more, knives swinging. Kiphoris roared and fought for his life, for his Baron's life, for the lives of his people - and never had he fought more ferociously, more viciously, more vehemently. Only the time-stalkers had ever tasted his ire like this before.

"Out of the way!" Krinok snarled, panting and clutching at his bleeding chest.

Kiphoris raised his blade between them. "The duel is over! We are at war, Ether-Thief! Look around you; this is no time for feuding!"

"It is always time for feuding," the oversized Wretch grumbled. "You have no place here, Wolf pup. Scamper! Or I will carve your head from your shoulders!"

Ka'Den crackled and slide up, angled in a guarding position. The Baron swept in, four blades slashing, and Kiphoris fended them all off. The bigger Eliksni was wounded, tired - and still dangerous. Krinok was many things, but a poor fighter was not one of them. Assuredly a family trait.

That gave Kiphoris an idea.

"Your brother is gone," he taunted with a growl. Krinok's offensive ground to a halt. The Ether-Thief cocked his head.

"What nonsense is this? What propaganda has Tarrhis filled your mind with now?"

"None, for it was not his to give. The Lightbearer told us. He dealt the killing blow."

"Lies!" Krinok surged, caution and wounds forgotten. He surged with anger and a thirst for retribution - and Kiphoris met it gladly, giving his all in return. Knives flashed. His longsword twisted and danced to meet them, to divert the thrusts and deflect the sweeps. Ground could not and would not be given. Not with Tarrhis already halfway in death's embrace, leaking his life-ether. He needed a Splicer, and quick, but Kiphoris-

He was preoccupied with a Kell-sized animal wearing the form of an Eliksni.

"No lies," Kiphoris continued, "for I was there! I was servant to Skolas, false-Kell of Wolves! I listened to his bartering of Taniks's services! I heard the cries of the Scar-Traitors crew. 'The Kell-Killer is dead!' they shrieked. 'The Kell-Killer is dead!'"

"Silence, pup!" Krinok kicked out. Or tried to; Kiphoris slipped aside and nicked the back of the Ether-Thief's knee. The larger Eliksni snarled and staggered back, wounded leg shaking. He was fast, he was strong, and he was big, but he was just a simple murderer. Kiphoris knew that he was better. The Network had taught him that, and much more besides. He would not perish here, in a burned out city to the razors of a Drekh-spirited cretin.

A shout came from the left. Ralkrosk - but then Palkra too, tearing after the charging Captain. The racer met the thug and both rolled across the ground, biting and slashing at one another with fang and claw. There was Sundrass too, standing opposite the motionless cybernetically-augmented Krayd, who in turn looked lost and torn and uncertain what with the sudden onset of battle raging all around, in the sky and in the city and who knew where else. Then Kiphoris's attention was diverted back to himself and his increasingly desperate foe, the wild animal he had to put down orders or no - for his people.

With one final broad stroke he lashed Ka'Den across Krinok's front and held his stance even as the Ether-Thief fell back with a pained groan. Krinok sported so many wounds it was a genuine wonder he was still alive, but that was all Kiphoris could commend. That and his skill at battle, and even then it was lesser than his own. Because it had to be. He was the warrior who gave up everything, who stopped at nothing to serve his people, and this - this was a selfish creature with no thoughts beyond sating his own hunger. Kiphoris had made his fantasy and hope reality, because he had to.

This was why they called him the Dreamer.

Krinok chuckled past weakened gurgles. One of his claws weakly lifted and pointed behind Kiphoris, just as a shadow fell over him. He twisted about - and gave a cry as he saw a Harmony looming over Tarrhis, spear raised and pointed down at his Baron's throat.

"Nama!"

Kiphoris launched himself, activating his short-range warp generator and grappling at the silver warrior's shoulder, claws sliding uselessly against smooth metal - but against all odds he managed to snag a hold and bring his Arc-coated sword down on the giant's arm. The armoured flesh parted beneath Ka'Den's hungry bite. Its owner stumbled away and whistled shrilly, taken by surprise.

"Fá af Elárksa," it cried out. A huge hand grabbed Kiphoris's leg and tossed him away. He landed, rolled back to his feet and lower arms, and he roared. The Harmony whistled back, spear held in a tight grip. Silver blood dribbled down from a cut on one of its biceps. It looked... rather surprised for something with no obvious facial features. Why did they even have heads? Was it yet another ghastly joke of the Maw, twisting something once natural into a horrific effigy of Uluru and humans and Eliksni? Or was there something in the ancestry of Harmony, leaving them a hauntingly similar form as evolutionary residue?

In truth, it did not matter. Not then. Not to Kiphoris. His worries were of the more immediate variety.

"Drakkir!" Sundrass howled. She ran past, rifle in hand, and Kiphoris moved in unison. They bounded towards the Harmony, and when it made to strike, one of them teleported out of the way while the other attacked. Sundrass's shock rifle did little apparent damage but something was happening, and somehow the Arc in her weapon's rounds actually managed to bother the giant. His sword, on the other hand, had no such limitations. It freely cut and harmed exactly as he saw fit, like Ikharos's report of his own magically-enhanced blade. Maybe that was the key - enchanted weaponry.

They moved like predators, he and Sundrass, running and teleporting as a pack. Like the wolves he had saved in the Beor Mountains. They were two Shrrg running circles around a huge fearsome Urzhad, outclassed and outsized and still winning. Kiphoris sliced away, at ankles and fingers and whatever came close. The Harmony grew first frustrated, then angry, then livid, then afraid. It tried moving away, to find some space, but by then its ability to direct its legs with any fluidity or grace had been thoroughly ruined. Kiphoris teleported again right into the air with his sword angled and all four hands grasping its hilt and with one fell blow he brought it down on the Harmony's skull. It groaned and collapsed, backwards. He rode the fall out and panted as the giant stilled below him, finally dead and gone.

Sundrass shouted and he turned around, just as another Harmony was charging towards them with its spear bright. Kiphoris leapt off the dead alien and made to resume their little hunt, do the same as they did with the first, but as he turned to share a smile with Sundrass-

Krayd. Holding a knife against her throat. Through her throat. Sundrass looked back, eyes wide and frantic and - something broke, something snapped, something...

"Nama," Kiphoris whispered. "Na... Nama!"

He pounced, claws outstretched, but Krayd was already backing away with his bloodied knife held in front of him, and he turned and ran. Kiphoris ran to Sundrass, catching her as she buckled and fell. His hands cradled the back of her head, found her wound and...

Kiphoris shoved the handful of cytogel grains into the wound, but even he knew it was useless. It could stem the bleeding, yes, but not patch up a lung. One of his hands cupped the back of Lima's head. He listened, paralyzed with sheer horror, as she rasped and coughed her last. Her chin was covered in blood.

"Nama." Kiphoris looked up and around, where was Ikharos, why wasn't he there, where was Ikharos wherewasIkharos?

Nowhere.

The Harmony passed over them, past them, and there were more cries and snarls and shouts from behind but... Kiphoris couldn't shake the helpless stare, couldn't move let alone fight. One of Sundrass's hands crawled to her shoulder, where the bearskin cloak he had given her hung, and another reached up to him, to his helmet, and left a bloodied handprint.

She died.

Kiphoris was struck a blow sharper than any of Krinok's stabs, more suffocating than any Uluru swat to the chest, and... he despaired.

He looked around, pulled by duty and nothing else, and found Palkra struggling to stand with one leg broken and a lower arm severed just under the elbow. Ralkrosk lay dead beside him, throat torn out, and Tarrhis wasn't far away, still unmoving, and Krinok...

Was nowhere to be seen. Gone.

Just like Ikharos.

000

The Ahamkara came in fast. He scarcely had time to swing his sword as it set itself upon him. Ikharos bit out a yell as iron-tipped claws grabbed into his midriff and massive jaws snapped onto his left arm, crunching on armour, flesh and bone alike. His sword found its target too, scoring a deep cut along the jaguar's neck and into its shoulder. The beast only bit harder in response, pulling its head back and threatening to take his arm off.

Ikharos Blinked again, right out of its grasp, and stumbled.

"Call another Walker," he urged Xiān.

"Trying," she replied, voice laced with panic. "Wait, there's- Right, just hold on, help is on its way!"

"What kind of-"

The Ahamkara was almost on him again, having teleported just like he did. It lunged, front paws outstretched.

"Sitja!" Ikharos quickly snapped. (Stay.)

The Ahamkara held in place.

"Jierda du haussa," Javek suddenly barked from somewhere behind it. (Break the skull.)

Whatever was left of the Wish-Dragon's twisted and corrupted consciousness disappeared the moment its head imploded in on itself. Ikharos released his own spell; the huge monstrous body tittered and fell over. Its magic disappeared, drained away like-

Like it had been eaten, soul and all.

Javek crumpled, collapsing under the exertion of the incantation. Ikharos pulled on the dregs of his Light and anger, drawing his Dawnblade back into form, and he glided over the dead Ahamkara beside the Splicer - where he dropped his sword into the ground and forced a golden Well of Radiance. Javek found the energy to breathe and stand once more, and he looked at his hands and then at Ikharos in surprise.

But Ikharos only had eyes for the glowering Harmony.

"It was not yet his time," the silver warrior - Orainthair, she had named herself - lamented. "He was a caretaker, a guard of hatcheries and nurseries and quarries. He was loyal. He had song to give."

"You sent him against me. You sent him to die." Ikharos drew in shuddering breaths. "You have no one to blame but yourselves."

"A terrible sin," Orainthair agreed, to his surprise. "And a sin we must bear. Like our princely lord we must carry these sins so that others do not have to. We sacrifice ourselves for a noble purpose."

"You're insane."

"Small minds may call it so. No, we are bold."

"Letta ilerneo un faedhír."

Orainthair held out her frosted hands. "As you decree."

"Jierda!" Javek snapped. A massive force cracked through the air, slamming into Orainthair and flinging her into the buildings behind, crashing through wood and stone. She pulled herself back up and tried to say something, but words failed her.

They failed Ikharos too. He had turned half-expecting Javek to fall dead before his very eyes, life snuffed out by the overly-grandiose ambition of his furious spell, yet the Splicer stood in place, unfazed - if a little perplexed himself. But the energy required to lift and throw a Harmony... Then Ikharos pieced it together. The Well!

The dying embers of his empowered Super Rift infused in them bountiful reservoirs of borrowed energy, enhancing their senses and improving the strength of everything from weapons to Light to even - yes, even magic.

"Brisingr," Ikharos said, raising a hand. Fire flooded the street, catching the Harmony in a racing plume of molten power.

Orainthair whistled discordantly with affront. She summoned her own strength, preparing another strike, but then Javek shouted, "Stenr verda hvass."

Huge pillars of sharpened stone lanced out of the ground below the immolated Orainthair, striking her with tremendous speed. Most cracked against her reinforced hide, but a couple of them managed to score scratches in her organically-grown armour.

Orainthair shrieked and lashed out. Slivers and webs of foul energy sped their way.

"Néhvaët skölir nosu," Ikharos whispered. A vacuum bubble appeared and ate up the projectiles - all but a few little seekers that had flown wide. They hit the ground and ran beneath, much like the spike from before if smaller. They were fast swimmers and they tracked him, even as he darted aside, reaching his boots and sticking him to the ground. With a grunt Ikharos forced the remaining Solar of the Well back to his hands and cracked the fading Dawnblade against the rime running up his legs. It shattered and broke, cutting into his skin beneath, but it was gone at the very least.

Then he became aware that the suffocating presence of Darkness in close proximity had not disappeared and turned around just as Elkhon reached him. Her knee cracked into his temple, knocking him to the ground. Ikharos's vision went white for a solid second. He saw stars dancing before him as colour and depth gradually trickled back in. He heard Javek's cry and looked up just as Elkhon caught the charging Splicer by the throat, effortlessly lifting him up into the air. Javek stabbed at her with Ikharos's knife and jammed his claws into the wrist hefting him up, all to little effect.

"Bug," Elkhon growled. She shook him. "Vae threyja thornessar?" (This is what we want?)

"Já." (Yes.) Orainthair stepped close, looming over them all. Ikharos got to his feet, but then there was a crystalline blade hanging between him and Elkhon. A glassy sword had formed in the Harmony's hands. "Sja, du Elárksa nàta nota gramarye." (Look, the Eliksni wields magic.)

"Älf er aíran ramr thí himmenburthro." (It is strong only because of the Skyborn.)

"Älf weohnata moi hvenaer vae taka älf eom du-"

"You don't even count yourself as one of us?" Ikharos snapped. Elkhon and Orainthair looked at him. "You don't count yourself as Risen?!"

Elkhon shrugged with one shoulder - the one not hefting the weight of a Vandal-sized Eliksni. "I left the Sky behind. It's a shallow thing. Violas ofan unin du aegór has so much more to offer me."

Violas ofan unin du aegór. 'Deep below the sea'. She was talking about the Darkness.

"It doesn't," Ikharos insisted. "All it does is take."

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you? You, slayer of taken things and Taken Kings."

Javek's struggles started to falter.

"Let him go," Ikharos said quickly. "He's not part of this fight. None of them are."

Elkhon snorted. "As if we care."

"You-"

"We kill and take because it's the only real path to take - yes, take. We're alive. We're hungry. Living things take. That's what we do. The Sky just fools you into believing otherwise. A real scammer, that Traveler."

"Let him go," Ikharos repeated. "I won't ask again."

Elkhon smiled. "No."

Ikharos Blinked and brought down Néhvaët on her arm. Elkhon stumbled back, short a hand, and hissed as the Darkness inside her hollowed flesh dripped out. The gauntlet around Javek's neck disintegrated and he fell to the ground, coughing. Orainthair twirled and struck out. Ikharos raised Néhvaët - but the Harmony was pushing fourteen-feet tall and rippling with inhuman strength, so he really didn't stand a chance. The flowing Void ward erected by his sword protected him from the Dark's bite, though not from the force of blow, and he was flung back down the street and against a garden wall. Elkhon raced after him with a snarl, arm reforming.

"Psekisk," Ikharos cursed between pained gasps. His bruises had bruises. He tried Blinking again, but his Light was running thin. All he managed was a two metre displacement. The Shade Titan caught him all the same, smashing them through the wall. Her fingers closed down on his right shoulder and twisted. It didn't survive. Néhvaët fell from nerveless fingers. They rolled across grass and dying flowers and growing weeds. Ikharos forced his leg between them, putting the sole of his boot against her stomach, and he pushed with all the strength he could muster. It worked.

And Orainthair's sword was swinging for him. Ikharos gritted his teeth and forced another Blink, with a little more success. He teleported behind the Harmonic warrior and-

She noticed and kicked him. Hard. Ikharos tumbled back onto the street, new pains blossoming up all around his body. He felt beaten. Exhausted. Broken. Outclassed, in essence. Magic, though. At least he still had that going for him, even if he hadn't the strength for it. He needed the power stored in Néhvaët's pommel. Which he had dropped in the garden behind the two cultists.

Great.

"Help is here!" Xiān blurted, relieved. "Help is-"

He only saw Javek, who was for some strange reason still not running. Orainthair was already stepping towards the two them with glowing hands, shooting more of her pure Darkness right at them and-

-a shimmering shield fell over them both. The Darkness sizzled against the Void energy, trying and failing to snake through. It burnt itself out with an odd cracking sound.

Something big and round and chock full of raw Void warped right above them. It warbled long and deep, as if to say I'm pissed. Orainthair and Elkhon both froze at the sight of the hulking Prime Servitor, at the yellow-eyed orb rippling with ridges and shorts fins and so much unnatural power. It exuded a sense of I am king among machines. Who intrudes on my domain?

"Here!" Xiān shouted. Ikharos winced at the volume. "We're here!"

The Prime Servitor glanced down. Its second warble was of a questioning nature. Void rippled from its flawless shell, reaching out - and Ikharos answered it in kind, like he had with Kiphoris's personal Servitor Obleker-17 so long ago. It was a first, for him, because the power and consciousness of the colossal machine above was huge.

"Jier-" Orainthair started to say, but Ikharos quickly interrupted

"Letta!"

The exertion of the spell was immediate and his energy stores nearly disappeared altogether, but the Harmony staggered and glared. She lashed out with a tossed handful of frost and-

The Servitor hummed threateningly and launched a blast of its own. Elkhon burned up. Orainthair stumbled away, hide smoking. The Harmony was then plucked up by invisible fingers and forcibly teleported into the sky - where a trio of Skiffs were waiting to fly by and rain down Arcfire on her. From other blocks and streets Walkers fired in unison, under the Servitor's apparent orders, and hit the silver giant almost at the same time. She screamed as her armoured skin dented, crumpled and ruptured. She fought back with lashing whips of crystalline death and disturbingly accurate flinging blades. The Servitor teleported away, taking its shield with it, and dragged its prisoner across the street and even through a couple of blocks-worth of buildings

It left him, Javek, and a reforming Elkhon.

Ikharos ran past the solidifying Shade and grabbed his sword - and then she was at him again, her own blade crashing down on his hastily erected defense. Elkhon grabbed his collar and threw him. Their fight picked all over again.

Somewhere along the way the last of their Light died out, leaving them only with burning muscles and swords pumped full of slaying power - and a whole lot of mutual desire to killkillkill.

Then Elkhon hit him, hard, with a fist that came out of nowhere. Ikharos spun against a wall - one of many, unique in that they hadn't broken it yet - and brought up his sword to prevent the cut that would have removed his head. He couldn't do anything about her legs, though. Not when they came in so fast, so strong to crush him against the wall and shatter more than a couple of bones he really needed intact. Ikharos rolled, trying to turn his defensive into an offensive and cut out her face, but Elkhon leaned back, and then forward once their swords had been well and truly tossed away. She straddled him and her hands came in, right for his eyes. Ikharos caught her wrists and turned his face - but her fingers just pressed in all the same, digging through the ragged remains of his helmet to push down on the oh-so-fragile surface of his yet-intact skull. Not intact for long, if she were to continue.

Ikharos forced another Blink, getting out from under her and tumbling across the middle of the floor. Elkhon came for him, lunging, and he rolled out of the way. He grabbed her arm, pulled hard until he heard a pop and snap and tear, and slammed her head down onto the floor. He got a leg around her waist, pinning her down. An elbow, from her other arm, flashed back, driving into his chest and banishing all the breath from his lungs. Ikharos fell away, heaving for air. Next thing he knew she had broken his weakening hold and was on him again, pinning him to the ground and her hand was pushing into his chest, cutting through skin and muscle and gristle.

He didn't have the wind to scream.

Elkhon's face hung over his own, smirking with victory and looking down at him with perverse hunger. "Do you have it too?" She whispered. "That spark of other, that umbral centre? Do you have it too?"

Her fingers pushed past his lungs, brushed against his heart, and dug deeper.

"Where is it? Where is-"

And she found something, something Ikharos could only feel now that it was under threat, in her grip, something that prickled at his Light and mind and and and and she was squeezing, playing with it, pulling on it and-

"You do! You have one!"

-and it bit back. Elkhon let go and pulled away with a shrill howl. Ikharos followed her, tackling her to the ground and grabbing her face. How dare she, how dare she, how dare she, the rage only bolstered what drops of paracausal killing-power he had left and he filled the hands holding her head with flames.

He fell sideways, away from the dematerializing Shade and stared up at the ceiling above. It had buckled under the pressure of all the fighting within and threatened to collapse altogether. Them crashing into almost all the support beams probably hadn't helped matters. Elkhon reformed and stepped over him, smile gone. With one motion she slammed a fist against his face, breaking his jaw. Ikharos's head fell back to the ground, sight misting over. Ah well. At least he'd tried.

"Ono faedhír vera," she started to say, "wiol aí-"

An electrified blade sprouted from her sternum. Elkhon jerked and froze, eyes blinking down at the length of steel running her through. Her gaze slowly, almost lazily, drifted over her shoulder to glimpse a part of the Splicer behind her. Elkhon elbowed back, catching Javek in the chest - hard. He sprawled back with a gasp, but she wasn't done. "You... little-"

Javek dove for something, out of sight, and a length of silver arced through the air - right through Elkhon's neck.

Ikharos died.

Two stars, binary stars, one white and one red. They circled, a length of ethereal plasma tying them together. Without it they stood to float off into the emptiness of the dying cosmos forever, lost lost lost.

He drew a shuddering breath. Claws gripped his collar. Four blue eyes, opened wide, gazed down at him in fearful worry.

"You fucking inse-"

Ikharos Blinked past Javek and drove a fist under Elkhon's jaw. She staggered back. He struck again, a right cross that broke her jaw and chipped a cheekbone. Something inside called for blood. It wasn't Light. It wasn't him. At that point, however, Ikharos didn't rightly care. Couldn't, really. His fingebones were fracturing under the force of his blows, but that didn't matter either. He pressed forth, driving the Shade back with punches and kicks that would've made even the infamous Wei Ning envious. His reservations were gone and control had long since disappeared. Nothing but bodily exhaustion and paracausal depletion - but even that was secondary to his desire to make her suffer.

He grabbed her head again and Blinked, carrying them both, and he shoved her head inside a wall. Elkhon died. Again. Came back. Again.

"That was clever," she panted. "Very clever. The others never thought to do that bef-"

He Blinked, caught her throat in his hand and crushed it. She choked and died. She came back. "That thing inside of you," Elkhon started to say, sounding different. Nervous, maybe. "It's powerful. Different. I haven't-"

Ikharos dug his thumbs into her eyes, like she had tried to do to him, and cracked her head against the same wall he'd transported her inside.

She came back, again. Looked at her sword on the ground, beside Javek. Looked back at Ikharos. Then she dove. Ikharos Blinked and kicked her in the side just as Javek ran Néhvaët through her neck. Elkhon died. Came back. Ikharos tossed her sword away, into the corner behind him, and waited.

"That's annoying," Elkhon growled - and still that unusual undercurrent of unease was present.

Ikharos didn't answer. Couldn't. Whatever she had touched had broken, and now his throat was filled with nothing but a ragged roar. He didn't let it loose. It would have been unbecoming. He Blinked behind her, drove his shoulder into her back, grabbed her arm pulled while kicking her away with as much power as he could muster. Her arm came off. Elkhon fell and screamed. Ikharos dropped the disintegrating arm, stomped on her leg and rained down punch after punch on her head. Then, at the behest of the thing inside, he grabbed her neck and let loose more fire.

It wasn't Solar that time. It burned black-and-white, twinkling like lost stars. Elkhon screamed, at a higher pitch then, and the fire reached inside her, through the mesh of molecules and cells and bits and pieces, to exert his will over the gathering of Darkness keeping her anchored in life. Ikharos reached with it, a new limb full of cruel, cruel claws, and he-

-stopped himself, horrified. But he couldn't stop. Not with Elkhon staring up at him, mouth agape and eyes wide with genuinely fright. Her remaining hand was batting at his shoulder, weak and incessant.

Ikharos leaned down, leaned close. He could smell the ichor of something less-than-human where his fire met flesh. And it was all him.

"Leave," he whispered. "Orono eka weohnata vergarí ono ae." (Or I will kill you forever.)

Ikharos broke her neck. Elkhon manifested once more, but away. As far as she could manage.

She didn't come back.

AN: Massive thanks to Nomad Blue for editing this, you legend