36 White Bird
White Bird
Essensia flared in Vaelira’s palms as she spun to face the demon.
Its body slid across the rooftop like a snake, each of its countless legs ending in barbs that clacked against the tiles. The stench of rot hit her as it reared up, claws flexing.
Vaelira cocked her head, noting the slick, unarmoured flesh along its belly. She waited until it lunged, barbs striking sparks from the roof tiles. She ducked, twisting and driving a wave of fire up into the exposed flesh. It shrieked, the sound needling her ears.
Vaelira sprinted across the rooftop, through the demon ash as it drifted away on the wind. There was no time to waste. She would no longer be chained by fear.
Inside, only Axel and Jurah remained, Orphi panting at their side.
“The others went ahead,” Jurah said. “I’m leaving to rally the Guard.”
“They haven’t been called to arms?”
Jurah shook his head and she turned to Axel. “Go with him.”
He opened his mouth, but Vaelira raised a hand, fire racing down her arm. Axel took a step back. “Take Orphi.”
Vaelira frowned. “He should stay here.”
Willem laughed from his seat by the door. “Try telling him that.”
Vaelira raced through Old Town’s ruined streets, Orphi close on her heels.
She had thought of running to the stables, to rescue her beloved mare.
She’d be able to move quicker on horseback, and she’d be able to keep Millie safe, but the barracks stables were on the other side of Old Town.
She’d waste too much time. She had to hope the demons didn’t have a taste for horse. Her stomach twisted at the thought.
Doors and shutters lay splintered in the gutters.
She didn’t let herself look too closely at the bodies she passed.
Instead, she focused on the metallic taste flaring on her tongue.
Each spike was paired with a deep, twisting pull in her gut, yanking here like a rope towards the source.
She turned a corner and skidded to a halt.
A man in dark robes stood in the centre of the street, hands clasped at his chest, chanting in a guttural, broken tongue.
Vaelira didn’t hesitate. Fire roared from her palms, the man’s robes going up in an instant. Her blade flashed, cutting clean through his neck before he could scream. She expected to feel nausea, even guilt, but it didn’t come. Rage coiled in her chest, calling for more.
The relic hit the ground, followed by two more skittering from beneath the man’s flaming cloak. She torched them too.
Orphi was already sprinting before she felt the next tug. She followed but called him back before the next turn. Even if she took out every summoner, there was still an army of demons headed for the city, and a hole in the eastern wall. She turned on her heel and sprinted in the opposite direction.
The further east she ran, the worse it became.
Buildings were ablaze, and everywhere demons ripped and clawed at anything that moved.
She incinerated as many as she could, their ash swirling away in the fray.
For a fleeting moment, she sent up a silent thanks that most were minor demons but quickly took it back.
If the First Three were watching, they didn’t care.
The streets opened into an empty square, the palace looming over the walls in the distance. She was halfway across the square when the tug in her gut became a violent wrench, pulling in all directions at once. Bile rose in her throat as dark shapes emerged from the edges of the square.
Ten.
Twenty.
More.
Orphi gave his silent, muted bark as a man stepped forward from the shadows, hood falling back to reveal a smooth skull and eyes ringed with black ash.
Flames leapt to Vaelira’s palms.
“You have done so well,” he said without a hint of fear. “He will reward you.”
“I’m good thanks,” she spat, letting her fury feed the fire.
“Our master is generous,” he murmured, stepping closer. “Release him, and he can return those you have lost. He can give you Jon.”
The flames sputtered, then flared brighter. She’d imagined it a thousand times, her brother alive, waiting for her in their cottage. But that cottage was gone, and so was he. Her jaw clenched. “Not possible.”
“So be it.”
Demons lunged from all sides, claws outstretched.
Vaelira’s essensia surged and burned, taking down a demon as it slashed out, then another as it tried to skitter under her defence.
Spinning on her heel she dropped, air rushing over her as Orphi leapt at a smaller Drekal, tearing into its front leg. She brought her sword down on its neck.
The summoners kept back, but her and Orphi were taking the demons down quicker than they could summon them.
She rolled past a spiked tail and jumped to her feet, finding herself face to face with a black-eyed summoner.
The woman took a step back and dropped the silver relic she’d been clutching before swinging around to flee.
Vaelira struck out, sending a wave of molten rage into her. The woman’s skin bubbled, but Vaelira was turning away before she was ablaze.
Ducking under a slashing limb, Vaelira sent a sheet of fire into a demon's belly.
Another surged forward, smaller, faster, its maw crammed with razor sharp teeth.
She raised her sword, but Orphi was already there, jaws locking around its throat, tearing away a chunk of rotten flesh.
It went limp, but Vaelira scorched it just in case before she turned, putting her back to the massive dog as the demons edged closer.
Thunder rolled overhead and rain fell, sudden and sharp as ice on her exposed skin. Gooseflesh prickled her arms.
“Soon the city will be ours,” another voice called from the dark. “Our army descends with a force greater than you can imagine.”
Lightning forked overhead, illuminating the palace rising above the city. Atop a tower, something white fluttered in the storm before vanishing into the dark.
A demon leapt. Vaelira twisted, falling to her back as it sailed over her. Lightning flashed again, searing the beast’s crooked shape into her vision. It was ash before it hit the ground.
“Come now,” the voice crooned, “think of the power you could harness.”
The demons halted, as if they were waiting for her answer. She didn’t give them one.
Thunder boomed, closer this time. Several bolts tore through the clouds at once, the light lingering unnaturally long. In that glow, she saw the tower again, and the white-haired man standing atop it. His robes billowed, both arms lifted to the sky.
Galfri.
The air thickened, buzzing like a nest of hornets in her ears. Her hair rose against her scalp, and then—the world cracked apart.
A hundred bolts slammed down in a single breath, each one blinding, each one striking with the force of a god.
The ground shook. Heat seared her face and arms. The demons shrieked, the sound clawing inside her skull.
They retreated as another strike fell. Bodies disintegrated mid-lunge, scattering to ash.
Through the chaos, her eyes found the tiny figure on the tower. Galfri’s arms were still raised, but his stance was different, unmoored. The next strike hit, and his hands dropped.
For a breath, he just stood there, head turned towards the city. Then he tipped forward, his white robes streaming around him like wings as he fell into the dark.
Vaelira’s fire stuttered in her veins and went out.