Chapter 39 #4
Harald swayed as a wave of vertigo passed over him.
Never had the Well drunk so much power and so quickly.
He felt swollen with stolen might, and only the abyss’ endless and insatiable hunger allowed him to continue inhaling at this prodigious rate.
Desperately, he pushed as much of the stolen power into Abyssal Imperium as he could so that the air gradated ever more toward darkness, and the shards expanded into blades of void glass.
Eclavistra drew back, gaze darting around, and then she launched herself at Brianna, pushing through void shards that barely scratched her skin, to smite the knight with a dozen blows in the space of a single second, each flashing with corrupt purple light, each akin to a master smith hammering down on a piece of crumpled copper.
Brianna cried out as she sought to parry, but to no avail.
Waves of concussive force flooded forth so that even Harald, some thirty yards away, rocked in place.
The Dragonslayer Knight was slammed back but held in place by her own powers so that her limbs were mangled, Wyrmfall was knocked from her arm when her gauntleted hand was torn free in a welter of blood, and then her Drakenhart Cuirass was stoved in altogether.
Only her powers kept the knight aloft, but now she hung insensate, head bowed, hunched and still in the air before the demon, white flickerings of Sam’s Guardian’s Mantle immediately playing over her.
“And now you,” said Eclavistra, turning to point at where Vic was running out wide. “Did you honestly think to defy me with my own Demon Seed bound to your soul?”
The Rapier Regent let out a cry of agony as he stiffened, blood fountaining from his eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth, and crashed face down to the ground to lie unmoving.
Eclavistra gestured, and Brianna’s still form swung away and around, settling behind her so that nothing remained between the demon and Sam.
“You,” said the demon, descending through the air.
Harald rose to his feet and summoned the Scourge. He glanced around, but Kársek remained on one knee, eyes vacant. Nessa moved to interpose herself, but Eclavistra gestured and the Bladeweaver staggered, blade set before her.
Eclavistra frowned, truly focused on Nessa, and this time her command was peremptory.
Nessa cried out as her Thread of Severance was overwhelmed, and was tossed aside as if swatted by a giant.
“There,” purred Eclavistra, her feet alighting at last on the stone ground. “We’ve cleared away the distractions. Let’s have a chat, shall we, girl to girl?”
The Gauntlet Golem flung an arc of burning white at the demon, who stepped smoothly to one side to avoid erupting rock beneath her feet while smacking the white fire away, and then her eyes flashed and the golem exploded into lavender-limned fragments.
“Nothing you say will sway me,” said Sam, flickers of silver flashing over her eyes as she raised her palm.
“All this trouble and for what? To still act like an oathbound servant. Your instincts are warped. Your morals bend to your abuser. You know you don’t trust yourself, yet still you act, accept sacrifices beyond your understanding so that you can—what?
” Eclavistra canted her head to one side as she drew closer. “Please your master?”
Sam’s lips thinned, but the radiance of the Starfire Bastion began to dim.
“You’re entirely correct to hold yourself in complete contempt, Tuppins.
” Eclavistra’s smile was pitying. “You try so hard, you get all these new toys, and still, you’re nothing but a scullery maid cleaning up your master’s messes and begging, hoping, that he’ll remember your name after he’s done having his drunken way with you. ”
“Shut up,” hissed Sam.
Harald tried to speak, but traitorous words tried to spill from his lips. Eclavistra. Some power of hers would warp his very attempt to gainsay her lies. So he clamped his jaw shut against the bile and shook his head vehemently at Sam, trying to tear her attention away.
Shadowpaw, appearing from nowhere, hurled himself at the demon, but without looking, she twitched her tail, and the huge mastiff fell into bleeding pieces and disappeared.
“Poor Tuppins,” said the demon queen. “The more you try, the more pathetic you become. Worthless. Secondary. Enabling a monster. Begging for praise so that you can hide from your own. Sordid. Little soul.”
Eclavistra’s words seared the air, and hit Sam like blows.
Enough. Whatever magic the demon queen was wielding was powerful enough to overcome even Sam’s stupefyingly high Ego. Harald leaned forward, about to launch himself into battle, when the world went dark.
No, not quite.
Sam’s eyes had filled with tears.
She’d clamped a hand over her own mouth, and stared, mesmerized, at where Eclavistra stood.
The Starfire Bastion guttered and went dark.
With its disappearance, Eclavistra’s aura, her presence, became smothering, suffocating, and Harald found himself rooted to the spot.
Despair poured into him, unnatural, overwhelming his Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant.
Had they thought to battle an arch demon and win?
“There, there,” whispered the demon queen. “It’s not so bad. I’ll end the torment. You tried. It wasn’t much but, at least in the end, you stopped lying to yourself. At least in the end you admitted how pathetic you truly are.”
Eclavistra reached out with her black talons to where Sam stood shivering. “It’s over. Know peace, little Tuppins, and let it all go.”