IZALITH PERIPHERY

His exhausted muscles strained as he spun the severed lower half of an ancient dragon round and round before letting the whole thing fly. With an explosion of stone and lava, it crashed into several like it, driving the abominations into a frenzy. As the eyeless demons tore into one another, he turned his attention to the stampede of Taurus demons coming straight for him. One step, then another, and he tore into their line with his greatsword. As limbs and ichor hurtled through the air, he rolled out of the way just in time to avoid a rain of Arachne demons dropping from the cavern ceiling.

With a wave of his flaming sword, he set their webs alight, blazing lines of fire running to the roof and down the walls as they burned in their very dens. In the distance, the Firesage looked on and chuckled while waving for another wave of Capra demons to throw themselves blindly at him. In the brief respite before the storm of steel and bone struck, he slung a bolt at the cowardly commander. As always, a mob of stone demons carved in the Firesage's image blocked it with their bodies, spraying the original with bits of glass as their bodies were slagged. Slighted, it stomped off in a huff.

As he hacked through crude iron and demon bone, he felt as if there were no end to the onslaught. Over the din of battle, though, he heard a reassuring sound from behind. The measured steps of soldiers on the march. A shadow passed overhead, and a hundred demons fell where they stood, steel spears jutting from their chests.

"FOR THE SUN!"

The cry echoed through the endless cavern as Anor Londo's proud Silver Knights, their armor blackened from weeks of combat with the Chaos demons, charged into the fray. At their head was the unstoppable god of war. He ran his great spear through the demons like a thunderbolt, coming at last to a stop at the massive foot of the Lord of Sunlight.

"My Lord, Father, you must remember not all of us have legs so long!" he laughed as he skewered another demon.

The monster towered over men – over gods and demigods, even – but so mighty was the Great Lord's soul that the beast hardly reached his knee. If not for their sheer numbers, even such terrors would be nothing to the mightiest of the Lords, even in his twilight.

"Thou'rt just worried I'll take all the glory, art thou not, Gwynael?" the old god chuckled back.

As the Lord of Sunlight cleared out the remaining demons with wide strokes of his building-sized sword, the younger god rested his dragonslayer spear against his shoulder and opened a scroll case on his hip, examining the contents.

"A message arrived from Londo just as you took off. It's labeled with the highest priority. Shall I read it to you now or wait for the crowd to clear?"

"The sender?"

"The Lion."

"Quickly, then. I don't mean to suspect those girls, but neither do I wish to give them the keys to my castle."

"As you command. Ahem.

My dear Lord,

Enclosed, you will find a letter delivered, sealed, to mine hands by Lord's Blade Ciaran. Myself received a verbal message on the same subject. In the letter, you willest receive her resignation and the circumstances thereof, including the dire injury of Knight Artorias. I write you now to assure you of the sincerity with which she spoketh of the matter. Her current location and that of injured Artorias and retired Gough, she disclosed to myself privately, to be relayed to your person upon your return.

I reiterate the seriousness with which she recounted the fanciful circumstances described in the letter. I am afraid she dideth not provide substantive evidence of her claims, so I have taken the liberty of sending an investigative team to lost Oolacile. I will write you again when they have returned.

Ever your servant,

Ornstein

Going to be honest, here. This sounds really bad. We're dropping like flies. In a few hundred years, I wouldn't be surprised if some of the stupider human nations were knocking at our door."

"Thy great-uncle Lloyd and Havel are working on a plan to prevent that. Though now I wish I'd asked them to cometh here with us."

As he rested his sword and looked about the shattered ruins, he caught sight of three more demons hurrying toward him. Each had the face of a woman and the robes of a witch but also horrible mutations that marked them as the spawn of Chaos. One had four arms and the hooves, horns, and swords of Capra demons. Another ran on all fours, her body halfway transformed into that of a jaguar with burning spots. The one at their head flew on mosquito wings and was altogether covered in chitinous plating.

The Knights tensed instinctively, though they knew these demons. Gwynael waved professionally as they approached. The massive Lord of Sunlight extended one hand for the Mosca demon to rest upon. The Capra demon came to a stop and knelt respectfully, but the Felid demon nestled up against the deity's foot and curled into a ball.

"I'm tiiiiiired, Gwyn. Just let me take a nap here, all right?"

"Quelala!" the mosquito woman buzzed self-importantly. "Stop fooling around! You're embarrassing us in front of all the Knights!"

"But Quelasa!"

"No buts!"

The Capra girl ignored the other two and began speaking.

"We have completed our survey of the remains of downtown. The-"

The Mosca quickly interrupted, "Quelaat! I am the leader of this team and your elder! Where do you get off, preempting me like that?"

Gwyn quickly held up his free hand to stop them.

"Now, now, girls. Quelasa, if thou wouldst deliver thy report…"

She curtsied in his palm, lifting the golden hem of her robes to reveal the chitin armor covered even her bare feet.

"With pleasure, Lord Gwyn. As expected, the sheer volume of lava makes most of downtown impassable. The palace grounds are likewise flooded. However, this is because the Bed is fueling the lava, which prevents it from cooling naturally. If we were to control lava of our own, we could make a floating path on top – at least long enough to cross."

"Well, I don't know about that," Gwynael said brusquely. "Even if all three of you can do that reliably, there'd hardly be enough of a path for a few of us, much less my Lord."

Quelasa glared down at him.

"If you would be so magnanimous as to allow me continue, prince…"

"All yours!"

"We've been trying to keep someone safe and out of sight of both your own Knights and the demons. For his safety and yours. In the end, you know what they say about desperate times. He can make a path large enough for your entire force, but you must promise to protect him. You must."

"Well, that's a little shady," Gwynael chuckled.

"Hush, boy," Gwyn said sternly. "Just who is this mystery fellow, Quelasa?"

For the first time, the eldest demon girl hesitated.

"Mother, being Mother, continued her work despite being heavily pregnant. Our brother survived the accident, but… He is very much a demon. He is larger and more powerful than any of the others, but he is malformed and in pain. His mind is that of a newborn rather than a monster."

She swallowed.

"As such, it is difficult to keep him focused. We don't know how he will react to those not touched by Chaos as we are, and we are deathly afraid of what will happen if the demons stop seeing him as one of their own."

Gwynael frowned. Gwyn closed his eyes and shook his head.

"That woman…" he muttered. "We cannot stand idle while Chaos' power buildeth every day. I will guard the child with my life. Tell me: what is his name?"

"We do not know what Mother and Father intended, so pressed for time, we settled on something simple. Quella."

"Then fetchest thee, young Quella, and let us hurry while the Firesage doth brood."

"Hold a moment," Gwynael said, waving. "Let's say everything goes as planned. What if little Chaos Junior gets distracted or scared and runs off? We'd be stranded on a melting platform behind enemy lines. Are we really throwing all our lives into this blindly?"

Gwyn frowned.

"What choice have we? Canst thee make us a path? There art more demons every day, while we only grow wearier."

"Maybe we could do something with the spiders' webs. I don't know."

The old Lord shook his head.

"Even if it wouldeth work, have we the time? No. Fetchest your brother, girls. We must strike now if we are to do so at all."

The Daughters of Chaos bowed and hurried back the way they had come, through the lava-filled caverns. Gwyn began the climb down at a gentle pace, far too large to fit on any of the constructed pathways. Gwynael just sighed and led the five hundred blackened Knights down what had once been a scenic walkway jutting out of the cliff wall. The path was full of Capra demons, their heavy iron blades blocking the way like a series of deadly turnstiles. It was far too narrow to make use of their greatbows, so they drew their melee weapons and marched onward.

Gone were the elegant weapons of their unstained counterparts in sunlit Anor Londo. A dragon stripped of its scales was an evasive creature. Demons were slow and brutish but ignored lesser injuries altogether. To fight such creatures, the Knights had quickly taken to using larger, heavier weapons capable of hewing demon flesh with little effort. Only the god of war himself continued using the same weapon, his hefty dragonslayer spear more than capable of running through a demon's entrails.

He thundered through the mob clear to the end of the path, where a massive demon worm bored out of the wall and hissed at him. Without breaking his pace, he jumped atop it, driving his spear through its forehead before kicking off its body to attack the Capra demons from behind. The Black Knights were no slouches, halberds charging the front line and greataxes swinging over them to strike the second. As the demons mounted a counterattack, the sword-and-shield Knights broke through to the front to hold them off while the greatswords hammered them into the stone. As they cleared through, the countless Firesage statues groaned to life and slowly hovered toward the approaching army.

They marched through the stone demons' fire breath without hesitation, their armor already black with soot and proof against further heat. While the army continued down the stairs to the next platform, Gwynael backtracked and jumped down on a balcony from above, slamming his spear through the fat neck of one of the Firesage's younger brothers. As he leapt off of the falling body, he grabbed one of the countless bare swords clattering at his belt and drilled its spiral blade into the stone floor. As the ritual implement mystically tapped into the heart of the Flame, he dashed forward and started clearing through to the Knights again.

"Any injured, get to the bonfire! I don't care if it's just a papercut! I need you in top form to breach the city gates!"

In later years, bonfires would become infinitely beneficial to the Undead. They would rise from the Flames upon death, and merely being in the presence of one could heal any wound. This came about by outright reconstruction of damaged tissue. For the Flame-born residents of Anor Londo who had only one life, the effects were much less drastic. The fires could accelerate natural healing and thus were of excellent use for relieving exhaustion, but serious injuries were a matter for clerics.

Still, they served as excellent fallback points, as highly visible beacons of health and safety. Commanders such as Gwynael often carried several ritually-prepared bonfire swords, though the means of their creation was one of Anor Londo's most closely-guarded secrets. Not that it could be easily duplicated. Healing magic came largely from within Gwyn's own clan, and while such power should be within the purview of the Witch's soul, her own preferences lay elsewhere.

"FOR THE SUN!"

With the exception of the living statues, which were stupid enough to think they could disguise themselves, the demons knew better than to try and hold the Knights at the top of the stairs. Instead, they gathered on the natural platforms and carved walkways about the gate to the lower city and the sealed elevator to the surface. They still weren't that clever, however, and Gwyn sent an entire platform hurtling into the lava as he made his way down the burning cliffs. Those on the opposite stairs were likewise cleared away by greatbows. As the first of the Knights reached the bottom, they quickly tied up the remaining pathway to prevent the demons from making use of their numbers and size.

The rest followed Gwynael back up the stairs and into the gatehouse. They slowed their pace for fear of ambush, and those fears were realized mere steps inside. The wall to the right exploded, showering the front line with thick chunks of stone. The Bed's roots lashed at them while they recoiled from the rock shower. Before the roots could sow anymore havoc, Gwynael blasted them with lightning, causing them to spasm and fall limp.

"This is the royal road, isn't it?" he said in disbelief as he looked down into the darkened passage. "Damn. If only one of those girls had stayed with us, we'd have been able to cut straight to the palace."

"My Prince, the walls!"

"What about the-? By the Sun!"

Just above their heads were human-shaped insets in the wall, with Chaos iconography carved in relief around them. Inside were human citizens of Izalith, bound by roots that were slowly sapping the life out of them. Fortunately, they were unconscious, since they looked almost like desiccated corpses.

"Cut them down!" the god thundered. "Airan, I want your team down in that passage to search for more victims then return here! The rest of you, with me!"

He started through the second archway, only to stop again. There were more humans here, only this time at eye level. Gwynael motioned for the rescue team to make note of them, then continued into the main body of the chamber. Again, the Bed was waiting for them. Roots rose up from the floor and dropped from the ceiling. All along the walls were trapped humans, the Bed draining every last drop of humanity from them as fuel for its Flame.

"To the walls! If we're lucky, it won't risk harming its food!"

Sure enough, as the demigod army edged against the walls, the roots hardly snapped at them, making only halfhearted attempts to drag them away. As they passed through the opposite doorway, the detailed walls gave way to rough hewn stone. Directly ahead was a stairway leading down an unfinished passage, while to the side was a narrower one leading up.

"Graeme! Take your men up to the elevator! Send a message topside to unseal it! It's ours, now!"

The rest of the Knights followed Gwynael down. After a short distance was a landing where the stairs doubled back. The lava that filled most of lower Izalith was easily visible through an archway at the far end of the next great hall. At first, they increased their pace, but when they reached the landing, Gwynael had to quickly call them to a halt.

"Damn those witches…"

The landing was more of a balcony. There were no stairs coming off it, nor did it look like stairs had been destroyed by the Bed. Here, the roots grew deep, one solid length running through the wall at the top all the way down through the floor several storeys below. Furious, he slammed a bonfire sword into the ground and called for a rest. The enormous root beside it writhed angrily but was unable to reach it.

"Hold on. What if I…"

He jumped atop it. Though it tried to shake him off, it was too taut to move much. Holding his spear sideways like a balance pole, he quickly made his way halfway down. Some roots which were not so firmly entrenched ripped free and swatted at him. He batted them back, throwing sparks from his spearhead that crippled them like before. He made it to the bottom without further incident, though once there, his options weren't great.

In front of him lay a courtyard overflowed with lava and behind was a dark passage completely overgrown with writhing roots. He hazarded the first option. There was a door opposite the entrance, and with some creative jumping across islands rising from the lava, he reached it without any trouble. Unfortunately, the heat had melted the stone double-door into the frame, sealing the passage. As he looked for another path, the cavern wall far to his left grew red hot and bubbled outward.

A slow wave of melted stone poured out into the existing lava, cooling to form another island of glassy stone. Quelala coughed violently as she stepped out of the tunnel behind, eventually hacking up a blob of lava like a furball.

"Huh? Gwynael? Where's everyone else?"

"Trying to figure out how to get down! You didn't mention that there was no way down!"

"Then how did you get down?"

"I climbed one of the Bed's roots."

"Then there was a way down, wasn't there?"

The god of war resisted the urge to explode at her.

"The Bed broke through one of the walls above us. The hole leads straight to the royal road. You and Quelasa can escort my Lord. Go get Quelaat so that we can pass through to the throne room."

"Hmmm… No."

"NO?!"

"The Bed is still smart like Mother. She'd knock the bridge out from under you when you were halfway across, silly."

Gwynael turned bright red with rage and embarrassment. He backtracked to the archway.

"All units, descend along the root! Single file, and watch your weapons that you don't knock each other off! Head down the tunnel in the back and left of the courtyard!"

With that, he headed back out to Quelala, who was contentedly napping at the entrance to the tunnel.

"You're kidding me! Wake up, you disgrace of a princess!"

"Mmmm… five more minutes, Quelaag."

"Quelaag is dead, and you're napping while your mother is eating your people!"

Quelala stretched like a cat, yawning, "Well, when you put it like that…"

Gwynael didn't dignify that with a response, instead heading straight down the tunnel. He found his father and Quelaat at the other end, standing on the shore of the inlet ahead.

GARDEN OF WITCHES

Beyond the roots dipping into the lava ahead was the great dome that isolated the Witch's self-sufficient palace-laboratory from the outside world. One of the Bed's roots had cracked through the immensely thick wall, and the surviving Daughters of Chaos had covertly worked on expanding the hole large enough for the Lord of Sunlight to pass through. Now that work was complete, the only problem was passing through the sea of lava that was leaking out. Gwynael set down another bonfire as a final checkpoint before they breached the wall. From the shore, he could see bounding demon-dragons. There was no telling what else was in the Witch's menagerie of horrors.

But as he spoke of the devil, Quelasa flew in through the crack in the dome, a horrifying monster with only a vaguely humanoid shape trailing behind her. It was a mess of eyes and broken limbs, lava dripping from its stone body as it whimpered constantly from the pain. It was so large that it had to stoop to pass through the hole, and even then, the mess of mangled insect limbs sprouting from its back like tree branches dragged against the top. It came to a stop obediently as the mosquito demon alighted on Gwyn's shoulder.

Though the Lord of Sunlight was immense to match the power of his soul, this creature was enormous for the sake of being enormous. Still, just as the demon princess had promised, it left a trail of lava behind that rapidly cooled and formed floating islands atop the perpetually hot Chaos lava. Gwyn's face hardened but he reached up to pat the monster on the head.

"Hello there, Quella. My name is Gwyn. I was a friend of your mother's."

He glanced over at his shoulder.

"He'st walking on two legs. Hath he yet learned to speak?"

She shook her head.

"No, Lord Gwyn. We think he knows how to use his body due to being a demon, but anything more mental is still out of his reach."

"A shame he doth not possess the same capacities as that blasted Firesage. But perhaps he would hath been just as wicked."

Quelala joined them, at the head of the line of Knights. There were far too many to fit on the small bit of shore.

"Let us finish this," Gwyn said solemnly.

Quelasa nodded and took to the air again, waving to her brother.

"Come on, Quella! Let's go to the palace!"

The monster make a gurgling sound and followed after her, leaving a floating path behind him. Gwyn set one foot on the glassy stone, then the other. The volcanic stone dipped under his weight, and the bit he was standing on broke off from the rest, but it didn't sink. He turned to face the gathering army.

"My faithful Knights!" he bellowed so that those on the other side of the tunnel could hear him. "We've fought long and hard to push these demons back from the surface, through the Blight Bog, and down to their lair at last! Some hath lost their lives or limbs, and each one of us willeth live with the horrors we've seen here! But I must place one final burden on you! I ask that you not enterest this fight with hatred in yourn hearts!

The demons art monsters, true! They liveth to despoil and destroy! But how sad is it that they wert born to such! The Witch of Izalith soughteth to save us from a fate that approacheth us still! I ask that you hateth only that she failed!"

The Knights raised their weapons in salute.

"LIGHT GUIDE OUR WAY!"

"Move out!"

Gwyn turned about and rushed along the path to catch up to Quella. He recoiled in horror as he saw the whole of the dome was filled with animated dragon corpses, while countless demons swarmed out of the palace. As the floating path bobbed in the lava, the monsters turned to notice the hole in their prison. No longer would they need to obey the Firesage who could open the door. Some of the dragon halves loped blindly toward the disturbance, and their fellows in turn followed to see what the fuss was about.

The Lord of Sunlight cracked a grim smile.

"I never thought I would face an army of dragons again. Come! Let me kill you all once more!"

He lunged at the nearest one, stomping it into the lava and standing atop it as the others charged. He hacked through one and quickly raised his sword to block another that had leapt at him, throwing it back into a third. As Gwynael and the Knights charged through, he crushed the body beneath him with an earth-shattering jump, flying over the path to defend the other side of the entrance, landing atop a pair of dragon torsos. As they tried to shake him off, he made use of their mad flailing to effortlessly direct his sword. As he warded off the demon-dragons, he kept one eye on the path ahead.

Though none of the demons outright spawned by the Bed had reached them yet, it seemed that the bounding demons at least were ignoring Quella and Quelasa. As Gwynael caught up, however, the demons began to swarm down the sides of the palace, and fireballs lobbed over the walls. Though the siblings were as resistant to Chaos fire as any of the other demons, Quella swatted at the attacks and began to wail, the his cries reverberating through the cavern. Unable to force him to continue, Quelasa quickly redirected her brother, having him take shelter behind one of the smaller towers surrounding the palace. As demons rushed across the bridge from the palace to the tower, Gwynael and as many Knights as could fit rushed to protect them.

They slowly hacked through the mob, pressing through to the other side of the bridge and the palace beyond. As victory seemed certain, a root lashed out from the lava, taking out the bridge's supports. It was all they could do to make it back to the tower as the stones fell out from under them. Worse, the Knights were crowding around the base of the tower as the hardened lava platforms melted behind them. The lava flowing out of Quella as he cowered provided a bit of shore on which to stand, but even that was nowhere near enough room for the five hundred Knights floating helpless on the sea of lava.

Fuming, Gwynael started another bonfire at the bottom of the tower and looked for a way up while the Knights around him warded off the Bed's writhing roots. If only Quella would stay still, they could climb up his back and over the palace walls.

"Boo!"

Abruptly, a face burst out of the lava, lunging toward him. A dozen Knights whirled around, weapons ready to defend their prince and marshal, but he raised his hand to stop them as he jumped out of the way. Quelala crashed headfirst into the bonfire, hitting her head on the sword with a resounding clang.

"What possessed you to think that was a good idea?!" he thundered.

"Iunno," she said contentedly as she curled up in front of the fire.

"I see I was too late," Quelaat said flatly as she approached, wading through the waist-deep lava as if a swimming pool. "My apologies, prince."

"What did she do?!" Quelasa screeched from behind the tower.

"Oh, for the love of Sunlight."

Gwynael looked down at his hand, then up at the enormous demon ineffectually hiding behind the tower. A mass of writhing tendrils grew out of its back.

"Quelasa," he said absently.

His calm tone was surprising and more effectively interrupted their squabbling than shouting would have been.

"Can your brother grab things with those… insect legs…? roots…? coming out of his back?"

"I- Yes. Yes, he can."

"How's his throwing arm?"

"His… His what?"

"Can he pick up something heavy and throw it with those limbs?"

"I… haven't thought to check."

"Have him throw me over the wall. And don't tell me he won't. Babies love throwing things. Gwyndolin threw food and toys everywhere when she was that age."

"Ah, but Prince Gwynael, the fall could-"

"Kill me, yes. Much like the lava and the demons. Better to die in a blaze of glory than to suffer a slow death by exhaustion. Come on, Quella, pick me up!"

The monster turned when he heard his name called but didn't understand the instruction. Quelasa knew better than to argue with Gwynael when he got some foolhardy idea in his head, so she sighed and attempted to direct her brother. With a combination of slow hand gestures and praise, he eventually lifted the war god into the air as Gwyn and the rest of the Knights approached.

"Why stop? What ails you?" he said as he strode over the crumbling pathway toward the enormous demon.

"Lord Gwyn," Quelasa said quickly, "please convince his grace, the prince, that being thrown over the walls is a foolhardy idea."

The ancient deity stopped and stroked his beard.

"Well, if there art no other means…"

He extended his hand to the demon.

"Quella, my boy, if you wouldst give me my son…"

The gesture was simple enough that he handed over Gwynael quickly.

"Like this, Quella. Watch carefully."

The Lord of Sunlight cocked his arm, and with all the gravity of the one who had peeled away the stone scales of the everlasting dragons, he threw his son like a Sunlight Spear. The god of war hurtled through the blistering air, thrusting ahead with his dragonslayer spear. After several seconds of flight, he struck stone, tearing through one demon, then another and another, before he tumbled to a stop in the midst of the most powerful of their kind. The Firesage and his brethren rose from their rough-hewn thrones. They all wielded staves and clubs carved from the roots of the archtree beneath which Izalith was built.

Worse, demons of all shapes and sizes surrounded him, though he'd left a bloody trail from his landing. The fat monster looked down at the relatively short god and laughed a horrible, throaty laugh that sounded more like gagging. Its toothy grin didn't last long, however, as the stone floor and demon flesh began to explode all around him. Black Knights crashed down like steel rain, their armored bodies tearing through bodies as they crashed throughout the palace grounds.

"Descend upon the foe! Overwhelm them! Leave none alive!" the god of war yelled as the Knights rose to regroup.

Sufficiently distracted by an entire army falling out of the sky one unit at a time, the demons hardly thought to continue guarding the wall. This time, Quelala was the one to soar through the air, cannonballing into a Capra demon and tearing its throat out. Quelaat followed like a whirligig, hacking through a pair of Taurus demons as she landed. Quelasa had entirely too much dignity for that sort of nonsense and simply joined her sisters using her own wings. With the wall clear, Gwyn himself simply hopped over from the tower island and pulled his enormous body over with ease.

"Gwynael willeth hold the demons," he said calmly as he looked over the battle raging within. "Let us hurry and stop this madness at its root."

"Of course, Lord Gwyn," Quelasa said quietly. "We will lead you to Mother's throne room."

Gwyn climbed from one courtyard to the next, following after the flying demon. Her sisters did their best to keep pace. Eventually, they descended a short set of stairs and passed under a massive archway to enter the throne room from behind, only the Witch's own entrance large enough for a Lord. A small archtree with particularly dark bark grew out of the throne. All around the circular room were the servants and laboratory assistants that had been inside the compound.

The demons had not stuck around to make the same elaborate wall carvings here – or perhaps, they hadn't been enough time before the Bed had sucked the humans dry. Countless hollows were woven into the roots that ran along the walls and ceiling, too drained to even moan mindlessly. Abruptly, the tree twisted with a sound like rope twanging taut. A humanoid face turned to look at the intruders, willow-like branches falling about its "face" like hair.

"R…u…n…" a voice wheezed.

Small roots snapped as the tree rose from its throne. It raised a staff of severed archtree root high in the air. Worked into the stone wood was a robed body.

"H…u…r…r…y…" Quelara groaned, eyes wide open but barely able to move her lips.

She screamed as the Bed of Chaos unleashed a torrent of fire at the intruders, using her as a living catalyst. Gwyn quickly moved to the front, deflecting the brunt of the attack with the flat of his enormous sword.

"Quelara!" Quelala shouted, bounding directly at the Bed.

"Stick to the plan!" Quelasa ordered calmly. "You know as well as I that it's the only way to save her."

The cat skidded to a stop but quickly rolled as the tree demon swiped at her with one of its four oversized arms. Frowning, she hopped away from one attack after the other until she was a distance away from both the Bed and the others.

"How much time willeth the sealing ritual require?" Gwyn whispered.

"Just a few minutes," Quelasa said absently. "Lord Gwyn, thank you."

"Thank me not already," he chuckled. "We yet have a fight ahead of us."

Quelala curled up and seemingly fell asleep where she was, while Quelaat hurried to the opposite side of the bed. There, she set her four swords down and sat down as well, closing her eyes in meditation. Quelasa quickly hurried to where Quelala was and began a sinister chant, making grave, purposeful movements as she danced around her sister. Gwyn shook off the chill it gave him and strode toward the front of the throne.

"We never saw eye-to-eye, Quel, but far be it from me to think we would come to blows," he growled as he ran sunlight down his blade.

The tree's "mouth" cracked open, but it said nothing, instead unleashing another wave of fire as Quelara screamed. Gwyn easily sidestepped the blast, twirling his sword to hack through roots on the floor as he moved. Lava gushed from the wounds, but still the Bed made no sound, instead lashing out with its many arms. Though it had a great deal of brute strength like all demons, such power was nothing before the Great Lord, and he easily hacked off three of the creature's "hands." When it attacked with its staff, however, he was forced to catch it.

His bones creaked as they repelled the enormous momentum of the stone pillar, but he simply roared and hacked off the final hand. As lava spewed from the monster's wrists, he leapt backwards and set the pillar against the wall.

"Quelara, willest thee survive if let alone?" Gwyn panted, patting his shoulder.

"S…t…o…p… t…h…e…m…"

"I don't understand."

Before the drained witch could explain, the Bed sent a fountain of flame snaking at them. Gwyn batted the wall away with his sparking sword and quickly strafed to the right to get Quelara out of the line of fire. Already, the tree had regrown its severed extremities and was on the move. Though anchored to its seat, the four insect wings on its back allowed its upper body to snake around with vine-like flexibility. He batted away another flurry of attacks, this one too quick for him to retaliate.

While he was focused on the main body, more roots had made their way along the floor unseen and now bound his ankles. His legs fell out from under him, and he was dragged closer to the throne. He hacked away at the roots, only for more to take their place. The tree loomed over him as more and more roots bound his limbs, though they couldn't touch his burning sword. He struggled violently, but to no avail as he was dragged deeper into a swirling mass of hungry roots.

Then Quelala screamed. There was a flash of light from where she had been lying, and a glowing, chain-like vine lashed out, rooting itself into the Bed's breast like the mother of demons did to the inhabitants of Izalith. At last, the monster groaned pathetically. It flailed at the glowing parasite, unable to touch it.

"Quelasa! What happened?" Gwyn yelled, finding the roots trapping him loosened.

She didn't respond, but he saw her fly overhead. The Bed didn't remain stunned for long, quickly turning furious. Whipping tendrils lashed at the flying demon, too slow to catch her. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Quelaat. Now wise to the witches' plan, the Bed attacked the other Daughter.

Quelasa quickly swooped down and deflected the roots with her armored body. She began singing again, even as the tendrils tore into her back and ripped at her wings. Thanks to the distraction, Gwyn had managed to rip himself free. He hazarded a quick glance to where Quelala had been. Her body was still there, the sealing vine growing from a bloody hole in her side.

He looked at Quelara across the room, understanding now. The Witch's power was Life. That sometimes meant that life was the cost of power. Gwyn had delegated Execution and only ordered such sentence rarely. The Witch had been much more liberal in her use of capital punishment.

"Wast there no other way?" he said grimly.

He had no time to mull it over. He quickly interposed his immense body between the trunk of the Bed and the Daughters, hacking away at the largest roots. Leashed to Quelala's corpse and rooted to its throne, the humanoid body was forced to bend backward to strike at them, making its attacks slow and easy to parry. Gwyn hacked off its wings to further limit its mobility, cutting again and again as it regrew them. The Bed howled in frustration and lashed out with smaller roots along the walls and floor, and while Gwyn had difficulty hitting these tiny targets, Quelasa endured as they dug beneath her chitin plates and drained her power.

At last, she dug a knife of glassy red stone through her sister's heart. Another golden vine burst out of Quelaat's chest, running through the Bed. Between the two vines, its upper body was bound to the throne, and they throbbed with power as they drained its own stolen power. It collapsed, supporting itself with its four arms but unable to stand again, its own flexibility now a weakness.

"How is thy body?" Gwyn asked as he and Quelasa slowly walked in front of the throne.

Though the Lord of Sunlight had protected her well, the injuries she'd taken while he was bound looked severe.

"No need to worry, Lord Gwyn. I can hardly complain, all things considered."

Quelasa's voice was haggard, but Gwyn accepted what she said at face value. He wasn't about to interrogate a girl who had killed two of her sisters to provide an opening to kill her mother. He stood to the right of the Bed, raising his sparking sword above the thing's neck.

"Stop… Please…"

Quelara had managed to free herself from the staff and was crawling toward them.

"Please… No more…" she choked. "We can save her… Let us try…"

Quelasa knelt down by her sister, smiling fondly but shaking her head.

"Eldest sister, I don't believe that's possible. Even if it were, it's too dangerous. I'm not Quelana. This seal isn't going to hold."

"We can hold it… We just… We just…"

Quelara gagged, then vomited lava. Her arms wobbled beneath her, and she collapsed face-first into the puddle.

"Sister? Sister?! Lord Gwyn, she's not breathing!"

The deity gave a sidelong glance at the inactive Bed and carefully laid his enormous body down amidst the roots to get a better look at the deva. Sure enough, she was stock still. He shakily held out his hand, hoping his injured shoulder wouldn't give out. A soft golden light washed over the Daughters. Quelasa's injuries began to heal slowly, but Quelara still didn't move.

"Sister! Sister, you can't!"

Quelasa bit her lip and looked down at the ritual knife in her hand. After a moment of hesitation, she slit her wrist, putting it to Quelara's lips. Gwyn focused all the more on his healing, and eventually, the eldest Daughter stirred.

"I'm… all right now," she coughed, spitting up a bit of lava.

Gwyn nodded and rose, stretching.

"What, then, shall we do with your mother?" he said grimly. "Many Knights dideth die for us to get here. They willeth free those of her victims who can be saved, but she willeth remain a danger as she doth live."

"Please," Quelasa said between coughs, "we will ensure no more demons escape Izalith. If you seal the land routes, we can hunt down the flying and climbing demons. I saw Quelaag and Quelaav as they fled. Their new bodies will be of great help if they're still sane."

Gwyn sighed.

"If that beest your wish. I will find a new home for your people."

"Tell them all is lost. We cannot afford anyone trying to return."

"I will swear my Knights to secrecy. Only Ornstein, as their Captain, and the Gravelord shall be toldeth the truth of what happened here."