AN: originally, I wanted to make this chapter my Christmas present for you all, but quality would have suffered so I opted to keep my usual schedule.
Still, I hope you all had a merry Christmas and will have a happy new year!
CHAPTER 35 – Neglected heirloom
The wall was swiftly transfigured into another archway and Chandra could see into the room. If it had been a cellar, it was the lousiest one she had ever seen: there weren't no barrels for the beverages nor shelves for the food. It was completely and utterly barren save for a singular suit of armour standing in the middle of the room, facing what must have been the correct way in judging by the collapsed wooden stairs.
"It is either the armour or the sword," said Dumbledore holding the wand in his palm like she had seen him do quite often that day "Unfortunately, both are made of goblin-wrought silver, an extremely powerful material."
"I still marvel at what all the things this plane's goblins can do, but let's not digress," replied the pyromancer igniting her hair "Anything I should know of that silver?"
"It's incredibly resilient, both to wear and to external damage. Most spells won't even put a scratch on that suit of armour, I fear," explained the old wizard while casting some manner of spell "Also, the ward isn't immediately lethal but it's meant as a trigger. I suspect the armour is actually animated."
"Living armours and weapons are a bother, but there's only a small number of metals that won't melt under my flames. Unless that thing is somehow made of darksteel, I can deal with it. Well, probably at least."
"Do account for the fact that horcrux are far more resilient than ordinary items made from the same materials," he warned without chasing his casting "But let us first see if I can bypass this ward and avoid the confrontation entirely."
Before Chandra could say anything more though, the armour's helmet turned to "stare" at them.
"What? The ward is still intact! It shouldn't have noticed us yet!" lamented Dumbledore assuming a ready position.
The armour turned completely and unsheathed its ruby-encrusted sword.
"Seems plenty awake to me," commented the pyromancer gathering mana in her hands "Let's go back towards the parking lot, this bottleneck is hardly ideal to fight."
The suit took a slow, clanking step forward, then it started walking more fluidly, almost as if it had been unsure of the first one. In the light projected by Chandra's hair, the rubies on the silvery sword gleamed an ominous blood-red.
"Run!" shouted the redhead converting the mana she had gathered into a large, bright orange fireball.
Both humans started running as fast as they could. Had they cared to stay and watch, they would have seen the armour take a step back from the fireball's impact before resuming its advance as if a spell able to kill a man was nothing more than a minor distraction.
It wasn't exactly a chase as the armour didn't look to be in any hurry to reach its targets, but it nevertheless ended once the construct entered the parking lot and got engulfed in into an explosion of yellow flames, shortly followed by a number of spikes emerging from the ground to stab where it had stood. Before Chandra could inquire on whether or not they had succeeded, the armour jumped out of the fire, once again with no visible damage and its sword raised overhead and ready to strike her down. The redhead jumped to the side –the metal biting her right arm briefly– as a veritable hail of exploding curses pelted the armour and it surroundings.
Either the flames or the explosions had set off some kind of alarm in the muggle building and it started ringing while from a collection of pipes on the ceiling a rain of smallish water droplets started pouring.
Ignoring both the rain and the curses, the living armour sprinted towards Dumbledore, weapon obviously poised to stab. While the wizards spun on its heel and apparated across the room, Chandra took a moment to study their opponent. She had met her fair share of swordmasters in her travels across the planes –the most recent being Djeru and Samut, both expert in the use of the kopesh– and certainly the armour didn't move like one: its attacks were too telegraphed, she could clearly see what it planned on doing; had she been a swordmaster herself, taking down such an opponent would have been embarrassingly easy. That said, the construct compensated its shortcomings in swordplay with its apparent indestructibility and endless stamina. And a sword that could apparently easily cut concrete and chainmail as if they were butter, that helped too. To destroy the thing they needed either to stop it long enough for her to melt it, or alternatively to start dismembering the thing and hope it couldn't regenerate like Liliana's minions or Tezzeret's spidery constructs.
Seeing as the armor was still occupied with the animals Dumbledore had transfigured from the debris of his previous attack, she kneeled down and gathered mana for a summon. She needed something big enough to last more than a few seconds against the armour's wicked sword. Unfortunately, most elementals she knew that would make the cut were so large that they would have brought the whole parking lot on their heads; thankfully, there was one that was just right for the situation. Flames went up in front of her, soon coalescing into a humanoid figure like when she had summoned Handsome for the Yule Ball. Differently from that time though, the figure got more and more definition as the seconds passed, before ultimately resolving in a creature that looked like a broad man with spiked hair made entirely of dark crystals or obsidian and live flames pouring out of its collar bones, eyes and the back of its head. It wielded two glowing swords that looked made out of solidified fire and wore the traditional armour of his kin, that is to say a scaled skirt over sturdy pants and boots, with the addition on two metal bracers.
"Thanks for coming Firebrand," she said getting up and shaking the flamekin's hand "I've got an opponent for you."
She had met Firebrand on Lorwyn and had been impressed by his absolute mastery of the flamekin's Flowing Blade style. He had agreed to be summoned on the condition that he would fight only strong warriors. Lorwyn was far too peaceful for the swordman's tastes, and he feared his abilities would rust long before his weapons.
"Duty, my fair lady," replied the elemental with a nod before focusing on the armour that was once again charging at Dumbledore "Not exactly a worthy one though."
"Its swordplay is terrible, I won't deny that, but it's a living armour and a nigh indestructible one at that," she explained pointing at the still unblemished construct "It has to count for something, no?"
"Ah, a contest of endurance rather than one of skill? That I can do my fair lady!" he said before exploding into a roaring laugh "This will be a duel for the chronicles!"
That said he rushed ahead, swords crossed in front of his chest, flames following in his steps and wisps of vapour raising from where the droplets hit him. Sensing the incoming threat, the armour turned to face the newcomer, who tried a cross slash that trailed flames in the air. Despite the glaring lack of skill, the fight soon became a standstill: no matter how many hits Firebrand scored, the armour soaked up the damage and replied with deadly slashed that the swordmaster had to parry or dodge. Fortunately for him, the whirling strikes of the Flowing Blade style were well suited for deflection.
While the two swordsmen were busying each other, Chandra rushed to Dumbledore's side. The old man was breathing hard for the exertion but looked to be fine. He immediately gave her his attention.
"Firebrand cannot win this alone, sooner or later that thing will score a hit. I can destroy both armour and sword at the same time, but I need a couple of minutes to build mana, and then the spell isn't the fastest acting I have. Can you stop that thing somehow? Some seconds will suffice."
"It will be difficult, but with your friend providing a distraction I just might succeed," replied Dumbledore stroking his beard "I'll need some moments to cast the spell."
"Do it, Firebrand is used to tag team with me but unless you're planning on using water it shouldn't be too much of a difference."
With that both focused on their respective spells.
Meanwhile Firebrand had been forced on the defensive and was doing his level best to parry, deflect or dodge the armour's relentless slashes. He had never seen in his life such a durable material, nor an opponent as stubborn as that, but he knew that his lady was cooking up something. His lady had often tried to make him see that being alive was better than being honourable, but he never accepted her help unless it was an unsurmountable opponent like that living armour or their numbers were too great.
Right on time to save him from a missed parry, the ground under the two swordsmen feet turned to quicksand. Since the flamekin's style was based on agility, Firebrand managed to jump away before the treacherous terrain took hold. The armour wasn't as quick and started sinking. Before anyone could comment, Chandra created a fireball the size of a human head made of pure white flames, so bright that even the elemental had to avert his gaze, and threw it at the construct. Unfortunately, sensing its imminent demise, the armour used the opportunity to throw his own weapon at the wizard as if it had been a javelin, catching him by surprise. A hastily conjured armchair slowed the deadly attack, though the man still got his stomach pierced; at the same time the fireball exploded against its intended target, engulfing the armour and the surrounding quicksand into a cleansing nova of searing flames. An inhuman scream came from the raging inferno as it pushed outward before collapsing on its central point and dying down to reveal a field of molten glass surrounding a pile of silvery slag.
Wasting no more time to appreciate her handiwork, Chandra called Fawkes as she knelt by the headmaster's side. The faithful bird appeared in a fiery explosion and hopped closer to its bonded.
"Find Poppy!" she ordered taking the jewelled sword out of the man's gut and using strips of his silken robe to staunch the bleeding "Snape too! Go!"
The firebird trilled mournfully at its old friend before flaming away. Firebrand knelt near them and helped as he could. The falling rain had fortunately stopped around the time when the last fireball had hit its mark, otherwise it would have made their job even harder.
Of course though, misery loves company so it was only in that precise moment that Chandra realized that the alarm had been joined by a siren of some kind and that she could hear a number of booted foots rushing down from the upper levels.