“I wish—” But his words were cut off as our enemies’ shout rose in fervor. Almost as one, they abandoned their fights, turning northward as their commanders shouted in earnest for them to form up ranks.
I watched as our troops, battered and bruised, stepped away with gasping breaths, searching for a reprieve.
“What is happening?” Ilyas asked, hope blooming in his words. I shielded my eyes from the scorching sun, squinting as a line of figures stood toward the north, covered in shadow. Slowly, their features came into focus, and I gasped in recognition.
There, at the point, stood Ellowyn, murderous rage covered her face as Pain and Pleasure crackled up her arms in waves. She raised her right hand, emanating a powerful wave of consolation and bolstered resolve that was far more potent than even my magic.
Our soldiers straightened, brightness returning to their features as Ellowyn’s magic wormed its way into their skin and psyches.
Hope bloomed and blossomed within me, partly from the godling’s magic and partly from the male and female that flanked Ellowyn.
On her right stood Talamh, face carved from stone as he held Earth Magic in his palms.
On the other stood a woman with beautiful dark brown skin, pants covered in grime and dust billowing in the wind as she clutched a long spear in two hands.
Folami was here.
A smile split my face as I helped Ilyas to his feet, intent on making my way to my True Pain Bond.
My steps faltered and stilled at the sound of a horn to the south.
It was melodic and low, a whisper on the wind that grew in intensity the longer it blared.
My gut sank to my toes, bile rising in my throat as Ilyas and I turned to eachother, agony written in both our expressions. We knew those horns—the same melody chased us out of Vespera and would haunt my dreams for years to come.
Samyr was here.
Vespera had fallen.
I turned to look over my shoulder, eyes closing in defeat as I recognized the bloodied and crazed woman spearheading the charge from the south. Our reinforcements responded with a battle cry of their own, and the ground shook as the two forces converged.
Sasori led the Samyrians, Folami the Deucenans, and Ilyas and I were caught in the middle.
Chapter One Hundred Nine
Rohak
The twin cries from the north and south overpowered any other sounds of battle.
Now, more than ever, it was evident that this was it: humanity’s last stand against the gods.
The Second Sundering.
I shuddered at the implication, at the value of everything riding on the outcome of this singular conflict as I retreated toward the tree line, Torin, Lex, and Ilyas following close behind. As selfish as it was, we needed a reprieve—a moment of peace and respite in the battle that seemed to never end. The arrival of both Ellowyn’s and Sasori’s troops was both a blessing and a curse, but ultimately gave us time to heal and formulate a new plan.
One we desperately needed.
“Ellowyn can’t use her powers,” Torin grunted as his back slammed against a tree trunk. Sweat glistened on his skin, dried blood smearing as he wiped his brow with his arm.
“How do you know?” I asked, falling to my ass next to Torin. “She used Pain and Pleasure when she first arrived.”
“Yes, but it no longer climbs up her arms. It was wispy at best. Less potent than normal,” he said, panting and gesturing to where Ellowyn was slowly making her way through Solace’s forces. Her trajectory put her even with us in a matter of minutes, as if she and Torin were connected by some sort of string.
I grunted in acknowledgement, trying to save my breath and words for when they were needed most.
“What’s the plan?” Lex asked, inspecting Ilyas’ many wounds. The large Vessel hissed a curse of pain as Lex prodded a particularly nasty gash. The Mage’s eyes darted up to his Vessel, worry and love so prominently shown that it felt like a knife to the heart.
Torin turned to me with a shrug as if to say, “I’m out of options.”
