No. You might save us today, and then kill us tomorrow.
“Take another step toward my fucking wife, and I’ll slice your head off your shoulders, witch!” I shout.
It works to get her attention off her. I only need a moment.
“Be careful how you speak to us, troll,” Syra snarls. She holds out her hand, and a ball of dark energy swirls in her palm.
Please, my love. Think of all the things waiting for us. If you go, you will never come back. If you stay, then we can fight to haveevery wish our heart desires. You’ll be free, you’ll see Mikal again. We’ll have children, and a life after pain.
“Well, Essstela? We grow impatient.”
My words latch onto her mind, so I keep feeding her images from the past. I show her how I’ve pictured how our family will look.
I can feel her will swinging back toward me.
But she says,Love is selfless.
Please, you are allowed to be a little selfish,I say.Stay with me, my star. Don’t let yourself become something evil.
“I—I will not go.”
Relief floods my senses, a gentle wave of calm amidst the silent gazes of the women. Wisps of mist unfurl from the earth, carrying with them a whispered utterance from Mrath—vaimpír.
The cold ones. A shiver dances down my spine as I clasp my beloved closer, their words lingering in the air like an ominous premonition.
As the mist retreats, a haunting sight emerges before us—a horde of chilling undead materialize into view. Their pallid forms mostly bare, adorned only by midnight-black locks and eyes that gleam like polished onyx. Without hesitation, the Enduar men and elvish women spring into action, brandishing otherworldly blades with fluid grace. Some engage the creatures head-on while others shield the defenseless in a frantic bid for safety.
In a moment of urgency, I reach for a weapon nearly forgotten, just as Vann appears by my side. The ground beneath us trembles with my resolve echoing through it like thunder. Never again will they steal my love away. And so it is that my fury summons forth molten rage from below, the lava answering my call.
Vann's cleaver strikes true against one of the vaimpírslunging towards me, its impact resounding with grim finality. As its head rolls free from its shoulders with a sickening thud, Thorne and Mrath swiftly dispatch another assailant that dares to encroach upon us. Soon enough, the air is thick with the acrid stench of ebon blood.
Embracing my wife protectively, she pushes me away determinedly before seizing a blade meant for food rather than foe. With practiced precision born from Svanna's tutelage, she drives the knife deep into the vaimpír's heart. A cascade of viscous black ichor spills out as her treacherous deed unfolds before wide-eyed witnesses.
"Traitor," gasps the fallen witch before dissolving into wisps of smoke at Estela's handiwork. As others attempt to aid her, Estela's radiance intensifies to searing brilliance. Those who dare draw near recoil in agony as charred remnants mingle with tainted blood.
The Fuegorra blazes incandescently across our battleground, banishing shadows and confusion alike. Its fiery touch weakens our frigid adversaries' defenses, rendering them vulnerable to our blades' merciless onslaughts. With unwavering determination, Estela wrenches the knife free from one fallen foe and pivots to meet another's advance with lethal precision.
My bride screams. It’s an awful, tortured sound. I yank the snake off of her leg and slice it in half as it tries to curl around her calf. It hisses and steams as it falls to the ground in pieces.
Estela quivers. The magic in her chest flickers and dims.
“What’s wrong?” I demand, drawing her into my arms.
She looks up at me.
“I—I…” Her speech is broken by her panting.
Her eyes squeeze shut against the paralysis.
“My star,” I say, panicked as thelight flickers.
But then, just as swiftly as the light disappeared, it glows back to life.
It isn’t the gradual dawn, sneaking over the mountains. It is lightning slicing through the sky. All at once, it blows me back. It smashes the tables and chairs and cracks the walls. It is not the Enduares or elves that suffer the effects of the blow; it is the undead creatures.
Under this burst of power, theydissolve.
Like lightning, the brilliant light fades, and Estela lies on the ground several paces away from me.
