Showdown at the Shrine
"She is still alive, otherwise we would have found her body," Soren said with an attempt of a sympathetic glance towards Ike. He hadn't commented on the blood on Ike's tunic, but the concerned gears behind his brows likely worked overtime.
Katarina nodded. She was sitting on a windowsill, faced the tower's yard, and dangled her legs. "It makes sense. Ursula would want an audience for her moment of triumph. Lloyd and Linus aren't exactly what you would call stimulating company."
Ike only listened with half an ear. What did it all matter? He had failed. Again. The stupid Darksphere weighed heavy in his pocket and mocked him. All according to Naga's wishes, he had collected the stone, and in return had lost everything else. This task hadn't even called for him. He should hurl the traitorous sphere across the yard, bury it between the final bodies Clarisse was laying onto the pile of shapeless, faceless assassin rags, and never look back. But the sphere's unspeakable magic still throbbed in his tunic. A weight too heavy.
A body joined its brothers with a soggy thud.
Lucina hadn't said it out loud, but if one of them had died to the dragon, the other one would have had to retrieve the Binding Shield alone. Whether she had known it or not, in that moment, she had chained Ike to the task. For her, he fidgeted with the Darksphere in his pocket, felts its weight, and hated himself.
"Ike?" The concerned frown on Soren's face had deepened. He had probably tried to address him more than once.
Ike kicked a stray arrow down the yard. "What?"
"You said you and Lucina hid the spheres in a shrine in the mountains, correct? Perhaps the location cannot easily be communicated, even if Ursula does have access to the thoughts she requires. We may be able to overtake them before they reach the shrine. A rescue is not yet out of the question."
"Was there blood?"
Soren started. "Come again?"
Ike glared at him. "In the cell where you found her hair. Was there blood?"
Soren fought with himself. He locked his eyes onto a plain spot on the yard's cobble when he answered. "The loss could not have been deadly. But there was fresh blood."
He might as well have sounded the lament bells.
"Ursula breaks people." Ike's voice was cold and detached. "Clarisse and Katarina can both confirm that for you. How much do you think will there be left of Lucina to rescue?"
Soren flinched under Ike's tone, but he nevertheless stepped forward to confront him. "You cannot tell me that you are wishing to give up. We have suffered a setback here, I will not deny that. But we have suffered countless setbacks during our days as rebels."
"A setback." Ike huffed. "Have you seen that pile over there? I haven't counted the bodies, but maybe you wanna give it a go. And it was for nothing. All this blood for nothing!"
"No one finds this slaughter more regrettable than I do. But horrors of this kind have never done as little as slow you. You have continued onward, and I felt inspired by your example, even as I inwardly wanted to scream. I have stood next to you while we buried comrades and friends. Some days we fled and could not even do them a last honor as small as that. And every time you would continue to march forward, and you would remind me that no sacrifice—"
"Don't say it. Don't you dare say it."
Soren closed his mouth.
Another body landed on the pile. Adding and adding and adding to the weight.
"Let's approach this from a more rational angle." Katarina hopped from the windowsill and paced between Ike and Soren. "The Black Fang brought horses up the mountain when they apprehended Lucina. Ike almost immediately followed them on foot. This gives them a lead, yes, as does your detour to Caelin."
"And?" Ike snapped.
His tone left Katarina unimpressed. "Look around you. The opposing force outnumbered us seven to one, and yet we took their stronghold. Easily. They didn't have the time to set up adequate defense measures after the sudden departure of their leader – that would be Ursula in this equation. Add to that the signs of recent horse activity as well as the relative freshness of the blood in the dungeon, and we get a clear picture."
Ike didn't want to think about any clear pictures. The only ones banging at the confines of his mind were broken and bloodstained.
"I would say," Katarina continued, "Ursula left the tower no more than two hours before we arrived. We can work with this."
"That look on your face tells me you have a plan," Soren said.
"I do." Katarina beamed. "Terrain!"
She was taking all of this far too lightly; Ike had to fight the urge to shake her. "What terrain?"
"I have studied the maps. To be honest, I considered going with you and Lucina to see the dragon. It sounded so fascinating. All this magic manifested into a creature of ancient times… Anyway, the path you took provides the most widely recognized way towards King's Plight. But there is a second trail which reaches the peak faster."
"And why wouldn't the Black Fang use that one?"
"Because it is plagued by avalanches in winter and rockfalls in summer. No sane wanderer would choose that route. Remember when I criticized you for taking the more dangerous option for yourself? I think it's time to switch up my strategy. Let's do the unexpected. Let's cheat."
Ike couldn't bring himself to feign enthusiasm. But Katarina's confidence at least whirled his mood enough to place the next step. She cooked up plans on the fly with half her mind dedicated to a chess game she played with herself at the same time, and that was more than Ike could say about himself. Soren had always called him a man who fought before he thought. Lately, that approach hadn't done him much good.
The skeleton of a strategy stood after a few minutes of back and forth between Katarina and Soren. Ike only provided information on the shrine's layout when asked. They would have to adjust based on the number of henchmen Ursula had dragged into the mountains with her – and whether Lucina would be in fighting condition, but no one wanted to mention that part out loud.
Far above the tower, a desert falcon circled for easy prey.
Death had conquered its corner of the yard. The pile of flesh added a twisted sense of character to the tower's plain walls. When the last soggy thud echoed out, Clarisse stood at the pile's foot, and maybe she was looking for faces amidst the black rags. She had carried every last assassin they had slayed and had propped them up here. They didn't give off the stench of decay yet; only the smell of sunbaked stone blanketed the yard.
"You're wasting your time," Ike said. "They were assassins."
Clarisse closed the eyes of the body closest to her. "So am I."
The light creeping into the tower's yard from far above had lost its orange glow; the firewall had vanished. As Ike had pointed out to Lucina, Frederick, and Rath on a grass hill way back when, magic had birthed the flames. Nino's magic, corrupted and strengthened tenfold by the Darksphere pulsating in Ike's pocket.
In Caelin, they had debated between this Black Fang tower and the dragon in the mountains. For the sake of Naga and her spheres, Lucina had chosen the mountains. If only she had known of the sphere in Ursula's possession. If only they had faced the fire instead.
In the yard surrounded by black stone, the party of four lit a fire of their own.
Katarina hesitated at first. The flame over her palm trembled. Then Soren placed a hand on her shoulder, and she sent the sparks out to scatter. With the guidance of two magic hands, the fire captured the pile of bodies and lit their pyre. The stench of ash seemed like second nature now. In fine streams, the smoke curled upwards, and maybe a Lorca hunter in the far distance would wonder at the strange happenings in the tower.
Ike never looked for faces in the flames. Too many of them haunted his thoughts already.
When he abandoned the tower and rode east with the others under a clear, blue sky, his fist curled around the Darksphere in his pockets. It had the power to raze and destroy. And he wanted to destroy nothing more ardently than the last rags of the Black Fang flocked around Ursula.
Four riders in black climbed the snow-coated trail towards King's Plight. It was all a blur. It was all pointless.
The icy wind bit into the wounds on Lucina's arms, but she had no strength to shiver. Her head rolled to the side, and without Lloyd's arms reaching around her for the reins, she would have slid from his horse. Maybe the snow would welcome her, and she would simply forget to breathe.
Give up all earthly attachments.
Give up all earthly attachments.
Give up all…
The horse jolted from a crack under the snow, or maybe it was Lloyd who nudged her back to herself. His breath hit the back of her head at steady intervals. Steady like a ballroom waltz. Steady like the borders of a grave.
Somewhere on the edges of her consciousness rode Linus and Jaffar, with Ursula in the lead. She did not falter, and instead whipped her horse deeper into the thick snow until foam dripped from its mouth. Lucina's thoughts had spilled the location of the shrine, and not even Naga could conjure a miracle to avert the inevitable. Once within the shrine's crumbling walls, Ursula would have three spheres at her disposal, in addition to the one she used to command Sacae's firewall. Who was to stop her then?
Ostia had no lord to govern it, and with Lucina's death, Altea too would be ripe for the taking. Ursula would only have to stretch out her hand. And maybe such was the will of Archanea's people; no more kings and no more tyrants, only a wyvern towering above the sheep.
"Why would anyone go to a place like this?" Linus' voice reached Lucina's ears from a far distance. "Are we sure this is the right way?"
"Are you questioning Ursula?" Jaffar snarled.
"Course not. Was just getting tired of the landscape, that's all."
Lloyd tugged at the reins, and the jerk running through the saddle prevented Lucina from drifting back into the mercy of unconsciousness. Or maybe it was the mercy of death she longed for.
"We need to stop soon or she'll freeze away under our hands," Lloyd said.
Ursula dug her heels into her horse's flanks. "Don't trouble your simple minds. If she dies, it won't be a great loss. I already know everything she has to offer."
"But the bounty we'd get for her – that'd be worth riding through all this snow for," Linus said.
"Fool. I have no intention to sell her off. Like all my darlings, she will entertain us for a little, and when there is nothing left of her… well, we wouldn't want our daggers to collect rust. Isn't that right, Lloyd?"
Lloyd's grip on the reins tightened. Lucina couldn't see his face, but she imagined his jaw grinding. The hilt of the dagger attached to his belt pressed into her back. If she shifted a little, she might cut the ropes around her wrists with the ragged blade. Lloyd might even allow it. But where to go from there? Hurl the dagger at Ursula's coated back? She would never hit. No, it was all pointless. The consciousness that had once carried the name Lucina only clung to this body out of habit, not necessity. Soon, even this tie would snap.
This world was such a cold one.
A triumphant chuckle erupted from Ursula's lips when the shrine came into view. She whipped her horse into a final sprint and disappeared into the building. Her underlings followed with looks towards Naga's hunched house ranging from unimpressed to wary. Lloyd pushed Lucina forward. She surely imagined it, but he seemed to avoid straining her injured arms.
A breeze stroked her face, even though the shutters all hung in their places to hold off the wind. Maybe Naga called her failed champion home.
The stack of gold coins still sat in its corner, tempting. Linus broke formation and dug through the pile with a wide grin until Ursula whistled him back. Her eyes were set on a far greater treasure. Already she strode along the hall as though the world squirmed at her feet, with each tile carried up King's Plight to honor her alone. Her smile when she turned back around was one of pure triumph.
"Bring her here."
Lloyd had his attention fixed on one of the alcoves. The shadows there reached just far enough to hide a person, and in true assassin fashion, he skimmed the shrine for places from where to strike at a target. His expression revealed nothing.
When he didn't obey Ursula right away, Linus grabbed Lucina by the arm and tossed her at Ursula's feet.
She wedged Lucina's chin between her fingers and forced her to look. "How does it feel to be on your knees, powerless over your own fate? It's the very feeling your subjects experience every day. You can be kind, you can be cruel, and no one will speak out against your decisions. Altea doesn't even have lesser lords to counsel you. In the image of your goddess, you and your ancestors have leapt onto the throne from which to command the many. And surely, the word of your goddess would be all the counsel you needed. Isn't it so? But the image of your goddess over there has burnt down, and you are on your knees." Ursula's nails scratched Lucina's skin, like a wolf letting its prey wriggle under its claws. "How does it feel?"
Like a coffin. Cold and empty.
Ursula let go of Lucina's chin and held up the Lightsphere. "Hector may have failed to tame this little precious, but his mistake will be easy enough to learn from. Maybe I will keep you alive long enough to feed you to the dragon. A most tempting irony. I do wonder if a part of the mind survives when consumed by such magic. There are some fascinating tales from the Scouring about the dance between dragon and mages… But don't waste too much thought on a future, dear. Yours won't last long. Just kneel down and enjoy the show, like a good subject."
On a gesture from Ursula, Linus stepped behind Lucina and yanked her hair back; she would have no choice but to watch every twist in Ursula's smile while she plucked the spheres out of the Binding Shield.
Ursula's reign might not last long.
But Grima's would.
"Jaffar, will you do the honors?" Ursula waved him forward. "The alcove over there, behind a loose stone."
Jaffar obeyed the order without a word. His boots made next to no sound on the stone floor, but in Lucina's ears, each step thundered like the bells before doom. All was lost. How foolish she had been to accept Naga's task. Hadn't her failures as queen of the Pheraen Empire proven the ineptness of her hands to change the current of fate? Crown and title might raise her above the common folk, but when she reached into a river, she could no more command the waters to flow upstream than any mortal.
Jaffar closed in on the alcove. His hand lifted to search for the lose stone and the cavity beyond.
Lucina closed her eyes.
Then, a gargle slipped out of Jaffar's mouth. Stunned silence captured all other members of the Black Fang. Linus' grip on Lucina's hair loosened, and she opened her eyes.
Jaffar stumbled backwards. Out of his back protruded the tip of a golden blade. With a last gargle, he died, and the golden sword swept him to the floor.
Out of the shadows behind Jaffar stepped a ghost. Lucina's heart, dormant up until now, leapt in her chest and rediscovered its purpose.
Because there stood Ike, alive, and he raised Ragnell against the remaining members of the Black Fang. His eyes met Lucina's for a moment.
And the shrine erupted in wind and fire and the rattle of swords.
She was alive.
Ike had needed all his composure to not jump out of his hiding place and tackle all four members of the Black Fang at once. When Ursula had laid her fingers on Lucina's chin, he had wanted to scream. The Darksphere had etched into his curled first. But for once in his life he had stuck to the plan. Jaffar sprawled dead on the floor, and the battle was in full swing.
Shutters burst out of their hinges, splinters flew, and the wind joined the fray. With a bang, the iron chandelier crashed from the ceiling and blocked the door. Linus jerked backwards, and with an expression somewhere between dumb and horrified, he stared at the chandelier's chain; magic fire had melted right through the links.
Ike ignored him to pursue Lloyd, the more dangerous of the brothers. In his periphery, fire and thunder battled each other as Ursula and Katarina hurled spell after spell at each other. Sparks flew, and the first bench flared. The air thickened with smoke and shouts.
From the beams overhead, arrows bolted towards black cloaks. Lloyd cursed when a projectile whirred an inch past his ear. Clarisse took aim again and proved why Ursula had kept her as one of the guild's best marksmen. Her hands moved fast and with absolute precision, and with a single shot, she tore through the ropes around Lucina's wrists.
Ike clashed with Lloyd. Steel scraped, shrieked. Lloyd ducked away and adjusted his stance. In his dirty hand, he wielded Falchion. Bastard.
Ike pounced, and their feet drummed on the stone to add to the cacophony of magic explosions.
Wind-battered and with an arrow stuck in his shoulder, Linus did the most sensible thing he could do. Before Lucina had the chance to climb to her feet, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed.
The storm quieted at once, and Clarisse's crossfire ceased. Soren tried to circle into Linus' blind spot, but as an answer, he increased the pressure on Lucina's throat. She gasped for air, and that one sound reached Ike's ears over the crackling of fire.
The Darksphere pulsated.
Ike pushed Ragnell with full force against Falchion, landed a kick against Lloyd's knee, and his opponent dropped out of the way. Linus towered between scattered gold coins, too far from Ike, even if he sprinted. One twist of his arms, and he would snap Lucina's neck like a twig under his shoes. She fumbled for the dagger at his belt, but her fingers always slid down the knob without finding hold.
Linus' dumb grin turned from Soren over Clarisse to Ike, and he conducted further desperate gasps for their stalemate. Lucina's fingers slid from the knob a last time.
Raze and destroy. Ike's own voice, the Darksphere, an entire choir screamed at him to raze and destroy, end Linus until not even as little as ash remained of his grin. And Ike gave in.
He ripped the Darksphere out of his pocket, and darkness erupted out of its depths, slashing, scouring, consuming. The shadowy flames flickered across the stone, and for a moment night itself swallowed the shrine.
Then the wall behind Linus exploded.
The blast knocked Ike from his feet. His shoulder crashed into a bench, the air he breathed was fire. Someone screamed.
Ike forced himself back to his feet, swaying. Half the shrine had vanished, and sinister fires, darker even than Nino's firewall, raged where walls had stood only a moment ago. Clouds of meltwater drifted overhead. Wrapped in smoke and mist and the plaster stuck to his face, Ike almost couldn't make out the other fighters.
Clarisse leaned against a bench not far from him, knocked from her vantage point and visibly disoriented. Magic lights burst like fireworks in the smoke a little farther ahead. But the sounds of Katarina's spells didn't make it to Ike's ears. The thumping of the Darksphere drowned out his pulse, but even that couldn't protect him from Linus' howls.
"My eyes!" Linus staggered forward, one hand clutched at his face, the other outstretched to feel for walls and hostages, neither of which he could reach. "What did you do, you maggot?"
Ike attempted a step in Linus' direction, but Ragnell had doubled its weight, and he tripped. His lungs ached as though he had run down King's Plight a second time. In a desperate effort, he shoved the Darksphere into the depths of his torn and soot-painted tunic. When his fingers abandoned the stone's heat, something like breathable air found its way back into him, and the ringing in his ears calmed ever so slightly.
That wouldn't save him.
Linus, whether blinded or not, had heard Ike, and he stumbled towards him. Clarisse readied another arrow, but her aim was off. The shaft lodging into Linus' shoulder didn't slow him. Soren lay amidst a pile of rubble, blood stained his face, but he breathed. At least Ike hoped he did.
Somewhere behind him, Lloyd coughed, but Ike couldn't spare a look at him. Before Linus would reach him, he would bump into Lucina. She crawled on her arms and knees, and fought for air, air that was swallowed by the fires, air that boiled and clashed with the freezing sky of the mountains in a battle of its own.
Linus blinked. His eyes where bloodshot, and tears dug lines into the plaster on his face. But he saw enough to catch Lucina's movements. The dumb grin dared to return. Slowly, bare steel emerged from his black coat.
Ike limped towards them, raised Ragnell. If only the blue light in the steel could awaken for once when he needed it.
Steel flashed through smoke screens.
But Lucina was faster. Still on one knee, she whirled around, and this time her fingers caught the hilt of Linus' dagger. The dumb grin still hung on his face as she rammed his dagger into his stomach.
The smoke swallowed the body.
Lucina stood, barely, but she stood. Ike choked on relief, or more likely on the ash hanging over the battlefield. She would be alright.
That was when the wolf entered the fray.
Its blue form jumped out of the smoke screens, deadly fangs flashed, and then it already pressed Ike to the ground. Claws tore into wool, then skin, oily breath everywhere, and Ike flinched under the pain. He couldn't lift Ragnell.
But the creature didn't aim for his throat, not yet.
It wanted the Darksphere.
Ike let go of Ragnell, and his fingers found the fur under the snapping jaws. The pressure on his chest lifted, ever so slightly. Not enough.
The claws dug deeper, Ike gritted his teeth, the foul breath was still growing worse, coming closer. And then the pocket with the Darksphere tore open.
The stone's light pulsated.
Ike brought up his knees and kicked at the wolf's belly. It didn't even flinch. It's unnatural eyes, like glowing coals at the bottom of a well followed the stone as it slipped to the ground. If Ursula got her hands on the second sphere through her pet, that would be the end of it. She wouldn't blow off the shrine's roof as Ike had. She would crack open the sky itself and turn the battlefield into a crater. There would be no need for graves or pyres then.
Ike tightened his grip on the wolf's fur. Shadows moved in his periphery, and he could only hope they were allies. His fingertips brushed the Darksphere, and he slid the stone to one of the shadows.
The wolf let go of him at once.
Ike spat out a lump of ash and blood; he had bitten into his cheek. A pang shook his body when he sat up, but he ignored the pain, ignored the roaring in his ears too. He didn't recover fast enough.
Clarisse stood between broken shingles and the splinters of a bench, and she was holding the Darksphere. She had lost her bow, or maybe she had run out of arrows; she only had the Black Fang dagger for a weapon. And with its next leap, the wolf would jump past the dagger and at her throat.
Lloyd still snuck around somewhere, and Ike had lost sight of Lucina. The taste of panic joined the cocktail of ash and oil and near-death. He tensed for the sprint, the wolf tensed for the jump, and Ike would never reach it in time. He could only watch as the wolf pinned Clarisse down, as if she were a newborn lamb to its hunger.
Inches separated the wolf's fangs from her hand – and then it stopped moving. A ghastly howl erupted from the creature, Ursula cursed somewhere, but the wolf remained frozen in time.
Behind it knelt Soren. Blood ran down his forehead, his arms trembled, but still he held up both hands as if to keep the wolf in place with invisible chains. Spell lines flickered around his fingertips. He was controlling the wolf now.
But he couldn't maintain the magic. The wolf growled, and Soren needed his left hand to keep his other arm steady. His eyes grew hazy, then glassy, and in mere moments, he would lose consciousness.
Before his focus collapsed entirely, Ike reached the wolf and locked his arms around the creature's neck from behind. He tugged and squeezed, he forced all he had into his arm muscles. The old claw wounds tore open, and blood dripped down his elbow. He tightened his grip. But with two human hands, he couldn't hope to reign in a manifestation of god-like magic. And when Soren's spell snapped, the jaws closed around Clarisse's hand.
She choked on a scream, the fangs dug into her wrist, grinding down to the bone, and still she wouldn't let go of the Darksphere.
Ike tried to wrestle down the wolf, choke it, but it was no use. The creature dragged them both forward, slowly but just as inevitably, towards the crackle of lighting in the smoke where Ursula fought. Already the abundance of magical energy squeezed the air out of Ike's lungs.
Curse whichever god had allowed magic to enter this realm.
Curse it all.
One of the wolf's hind legs struck at Ike's side, claws on skin, another rush of pain.
The glow from the Darksphere radiated through Clarisse's fist and through the wolf's maw, and it was blinding. Ike tore a last time at the wolf.
And then Clarisse yanked her arm back, and her hand ripped apart at the wrist. Blood dripped from the stump. But she only flinched for a heartbeat before she raised the Black Fang dagger with her remaining right hand and drove it through the wolf's skull.
The creature dissolved. On the ground remained only the Darksphere.
Ike dragged the air the gods had wanted to steal back into his lungs. A headache attacked his temples, but for the moment that was the only attack he had to worry about. He pocketed the Darksphere before turning to Clarisse. The hard lines around her mouth hid the pain that had to radiate from the stump of her left hand, and she was already tearing a piece from her sleeve to stop the bleeding.
"There are still two of them left," she said.
Right. Soren, if he could still hold himself upright, would dress Clarisse's hand, and maybe that would be enough for all of them to make it out of the shrine ruin alive and without Ursula roping their thoughts to replace the assassins she had lost at the Black Fang tower. And looking at the other side of the battlefield, Ike might even be willing to bet on their luck in this regard. Because, although she had borne the brunt of Ursula's magic thunderstorm, Katarina still stood.
A gust, maybe of her making, rushed over the mountain side and cleared the worst of the smoke. Smaller fire cauldrons flickered and went out. Only the flames born from the Darksphere continued their conquest and rolled over rubble and snow.
At the head of the shrine, the air trembled with half-faded lighting spells. Ursula and Katarina had paused their duel.
"You ungrateful little girl," Ursula said. "I taught you everything you know, and you dare to turn this magic against me?"
Burn holes riddled Katarina's scarf, but she stood with her chin high. "Your magic may be powerful. But you've forgotten the most important part: Even the best magic is useless when directed towards the wrong target!"
A fireball shot from Katarina's hand. But instead of hitting Ursula headfirst, the fire strings dispersed, swirled with a tornado summoned by Katarina's other hand; a fusion of wind and fire magic. Ursula's dress whipped around her form, and she screamed.
A burst of light forced Ike to close his eyes.
When it faded, Ursula swayed. She had lost ground; she had five steps to retreat, then she would hit the wall with Naga's burnt mural. Something flashed across the rubble, and a dagger grazed Ursula's cheek. Clarisse's dagger. Stunned, Ursula reached out to touch the sliver of blood on her face. Then her eyes blackened, two copies of the Dakspheres held together by the single purpose to raze and destroy.
"I should have burned you alive years ago." Ursula glared at Clarisse before she raised her voice. "Lloyd, put that traitorous woman out of her misery. She isn't worthy of the dagger she carries."
Lloyd had lost Falchion in the explosion from the Darksphere. He retreated to Ursula's side with only his dagger in hand. Soren hadn't recovered yet, and Lucina had trouble standing, but the odds had turned against the Black Fang.
Ike steadied himself for a desperate charge from the enemy.
Lloyd made no move to engage. His gaze rested on Ike's pocket with the Darksphere inside. He recognized the magic, knew who had last used it, and maybe Ursula did too, but her mania didn't allow for clear thoughts. Her prisoner, the spheres, the victory she had tasted on her poisonous tongue – everything slipped from her grasp. But when cornered, the she-wolf bites the most viciously.
Ursula sneered at Lloyd. "You truly are worthless. And this sad creature calls itself a man. At least your dear sister was useful to me for a while. Such a sweet thing. She would ask for you so many times… I wonder what she would say if she saw the coward you truly are."
"Give it up, Ursula," Katarina shouted. "Your chances of victory are spent."
Ursula chuckled. In her hand she held the Lightsphere. "Child, you know nothing of victory."
White light swirled around her, an entire storm. Clarisse cursed. The shrine trembled. Bricks fell from the broken walls.
"You're mad!" Katarina lost inch after inch as she pushed against the storm. "You can't control this magic!"
Ursula's body itself glowed with the Lightsphere's pulse. She raised her arms. "Foolish child. This isn't madness. This is magic fit to rule kingdoms. This is the fire to usher in a new age! The power of the gods is mine!"
The light slapped Ike's skin like cold iron.
And the sky cracked.
Like a broken window, fissures spread across the sky, dark lines, and they expanded, deepened. If any gods existed, Ursula was tearing down the barrier to their realm. Magic seeped through, ancient energy poured over King's Plight, the mountain groaned, and when Ike looked up, he glanced at the hellish divine. Shadows and glass were there and light, too much light, an unnatural light no one could want to chase.
He shielded his face from the brightness and after several moments of helpless staggering, he found himself at Lucina's side. Her breath trembled right next to him. Still here. Still alive.
He would use the Darksphere again. Most likely it would kill them all. King's Plight would explode in a clash of light and shadow, white and purple, and the spectacle would ignite the horizon all the way in Lycia and the Glass Fortress. A story to tell around campfires for years to come. The day where the gods themselves seemed to battle on the mountain.
One could almost call it a heroic death.
Amidst the inferno, Lloyd stepped forward. The dagger in his hand shone dully against the brightness all around. Should anyone survive the burst of magic, he would ensure the commission was finished.
Ike reached for the Darksphere.
The Black Fang dagger cut through the light. And in a single arc, the blade plunged into Ursula's chest.
The magic storm flickered and Ursula's triumphant smile with it. In utter disbelief, she looked from the patch of red expanding on her dress, up the arm twisting the dagger until she reached the face of the one who had ended her reign.
"Why?" Ursula's voice rasped.
Lloyd pushed the blade farther. "I didn't want my dagger to collect rust."
"You… BASTARD!"
The magic storm flared, and light whipped across the shrine ruins when Ursula screamed. With her last breath, the power of the sphere exited her body, razing and destroying the first obstacle in its path. Her skin and flesh and bone corroded on the spot. When the light faded, she had vanished, and only the footprints in the snow outside remembered her existence.
Lloyd's scorched silhouette stood at the foot of Naga's mural for a moment longer. The bloodstained dagger still shone in his hand. Then a gust tore into him, and he dissolved into ashes, scattering across the snow-coated slopes of King's Plight.
So died the last member of the Black Fang.
Like a gods-forsaken knight.
The smoke cleared, and through the broken wall, a handful of sunrays entered the shrine. The fires had gone out, and the air Ike dragged into his lungs tasted of snow and distant conifers.
He turned towards Lucina. All the injuries and plaster dust faded to the background because her face held him captive, and their eyes met as if for the first time after an eternity.
He brushed a stray hair out of her face.
"I'm okay."
Ike almost choked on his smile. "I knew you would say that. You damned liar."
For one long moment, they held onto each other. Ike was deaf to Katarina's worried murmurs as she inspected Clarisse's wound, he was blind to the cracks that still scarred the sky, he didn't care for the smoke in his lungs or the cuts on his chest. Lucina's breath eased right next to him. Still here. Still alive.
She stepped back too soon. Together, they dragged themselves to the half of the shrine wall that still stood and the alcove that was located there. With trembling hands, her arms riddled with cuts, Lucina pulled back the lose brick and revealed a dim nothing. The cavity was empty.
The Binding Shield was gone.
Notes: Shhh, this chapter totally isn't a day late, what are you talking about? I didn't get hit by a bus or anything interesting, just the absurdly heavy weight of my thesis. But anyway, what do you think? Did I manage to surprise you at some point or another? I honestly would have loved to write more with Lloyd, I was even debating some POV scenes for him, but I didn't want to unnecessarily drag this out. Maybe some other day.
And if I'm seeing this correctly, with this chapter, we have passed 300k words for this story. I never thought I'd make it this far. Thank you to my beta and everyone who has stuck with this story and my increasingly jumbled upload schedule. In the next chapter, our survivors take a much-needed moment to rest. But the deepest shadows are yet to come...