*Dawnsea Manor, Silvermoon City
Outskirts, Midnight*
They had put him in a cage of black iron, the kind that one might
temporarily keep a prisoner in before moving them to a more permanent
cell or to the gallows. What was unusual about Andithiel's location
was that he was not in a dungeon somewhere, but instead in an open,
circular room with a small square foyer near the double doors that
made up the entrance. The bars of his cell were actually seated deep
in the marble floor, and not a single one of them was loose in its
mooring; he'd already tried each one separately.
The rest of the room was almost completely empty with the exception
of a stone dais in the center of the circular part of what he knew
must be Seluna's conjury room. Atop the dais was a column of purple
light, within it floating not a tattered, torn book but instead a
completely restored necromantic tome, complete with a sparkling red
jewel set in its cover. The book, the phylactery, had been restored
by Seluna some time ago. She had had Andithiel unceremoniously
deposited in the cell and then mostly ignored him for an hour while
she had plied her spells on the two torn halves of the tome. Once she
was done, the restored book rested in the field of magic as it did
even now.
The silence in the room was broken as the double doors opened and a
line of robed figures entered. Inter-spaced between them here and
there were half-naked, bound figures who stumbled along as best they
could in the procession, their hands and feet fettered to prevent
their escape. Although they were gagged, Andithiel frowned as he
recognized the faces of several of his men that he presumed must have
been captured during the raid on Felo'melorn Spire.
As more and more of the robed figures filed into the room, Andithiel
realized that some major event was about to unfold; each of those
entering the room had similar clothing and ceremonial daggers
strapped to their belts, and they formed neat, organized circles
around the central dais, those who were not prisoners forcing the
captives into alignment with the pattern they were creating.
Andithiel's frown deepened as he watched several of the robed figures
begin to chant, the foul words of their magic echoing in the stone
chamber.
As the last of them filed in and took up their position, Seluna
Dawnsea entered the room, her flowing black gown trailing after her
as she paused, nodding to the guards behind her who closed the doors
with a final sounding boom. With a smirk on her face, Seluna walked
towards the cage where Andithiel stood, looking him over in a
predatory fashion, “Ah, there you are, Heir of Felo'melorn. Do you
like your new accommodations? Fear not, you shall not remain in them
for long.”
“What is the purpose of all of...this?” Andithiel said, keeping
his emotions in check.
“Why, this is the moment of my triumph,” Seluna said, gesturing
behind her with a flourish. “You are witnessing my rebirth and my
freedom from the shackles of magic that bind my spirit. Soon enough I
will complete my ritual, and then I will be free and I will grant the
same gift to you.”
“I want nothing from you, witch,” Andithiel said. “This is all
temporary; my sisters will not long allow you to live after what
you've done to our spire. Your threats and promises are empty.”
Seluna laughed, shaking her head, “Empty? I think not. By the time
your sisters organize themselves this will all be complete, and then
any actions they take will be futile. There is no one who will stop
me.”
“My sisters will not come alone!” Andithiel said in a stern tone.
“Our allies will rise to aid us! You will not be allowed to just
assault and destroy Houses in Quel'Thalas without consequences.”
Seluna smirked, leaning close enough to the bars that Andithiel
involuntarily pulled his head back. Her voice was a low whisper and
almost sensual when she responded, “You speak of your precious
Kyliska and her 'house'. You think she loves you truly? She doesn't
even understand what it means to love. I have shouldered the burdens
of true love. I have given of myself, made sacrifices for love that
you and she cannot even fathom. If you believe her feelings for you
will allow her to somehow aid your sisters in undoing my work, your
thoughts are laughable at best.”
Andithiel spat on the floor of his cell, openly glaring now, “You
are a thing of darkness, and you do not know what love is. I do not
know what it is that passes between Kyliska and I, but I know the
difference between foul evil like you, and something with light in it
like the heart she offers.”
Seluna snarled, one of her hands snaking through the bars and
clenching the front of Andithiel's tunic, “I have given all of
myself for love. I have loved so deeply that I have died for
it. I have sacrificed time and again for my beloved Tel'athar, and
all without reward. I carried a child for him. I raised her as he
wished. I allowed him to lead our House without complaint all because
I adored him and cherished him above all else. Do not think to tell
me that your precious Kyliska would do the same for you. She could
not even keep her wayward eyes in check for a short score of years.
She did not even bother to protect or care for herself enough
to birth your own child. Do not ever speak to me of love, for
you know nothing of true love, true passion. It is only once I
have brought Tel'athar back and he is within you that you will know
love, for you shall see my love for him that is stronger than death
itself, than the Light itself!”
With that she shoved him away, retracting her hand and tilting her
head once. Andithiel's heart pounded with rage, but he kept it in
check, noting the way she watched him as a dangerous animal might,
her eyes wild and unfocused. After a moment the emotion passed and
her blue eyes faded to a greenish color. She reached up and put a few
wayward strands of hair in place before offering him a smile and
gesturing behind her, “Behold now the power of devotion, the power
of my magic. BEGIN!”
To Andithiel's horror, the figures surrounding the dais in the
circular part of the room rose, each holding up a knife. Those
standing closest to the prisoners began to systematically stab their
sacrificial victims in the heart, while those who were standing alone
impaled their own beating hearts on the daggers, their chanting
turning to gurgling as their blood rushed across the floor. And all
the while, the gem on the cover of the spellbook began to glow with
foul blue light as it absorbed soul after soul.
“No! NO!” Andithiel shouted, backing away from the bars as Seluna
began to laugh, the sounds of corpses hitting the floor offering an
eerie counterpoint to the musical tone.
************************************************
*Sunfire Estate, Eversong Woods,
Half-past Midnight*
Kyliska sat solemnly upon her warhorse, her armor cinched tightly in
place on her body, her best ax strapped to her back. In her hand she
held a weapon that she did not ordinarily use, but that Tyavel had
insisted she equip. Behind her, the rest of her Blood Knights were
similarly armed, the lances each of them carried tipped with the
blunt ends that would be used in practice jousting. Kyliska
understood what their purpose would be, but she still questioned the
sanity of the daring plan.
“Kyliska, are your men prepared?” Tyavel's voice carried up to
Kyliska.
Kyliska looked down, seeing the stern looking Magistrix standing
beside her, bedecked in battle robes and nearly glowing with fatal
magics, enchantments, and wards. Kyliska took a moment to stare into
Tyavel's eyes, as if to gauge her dedication to their cause. What she
saw made her almost flinch; where the Magistrix was outwardly calm,
her green glowing eyes swirled like a storm of magic, the rage within
her held under a tightly controlled mask of serenity that hid the
potential for massacre beyond words.
It fit Kyliska's own mood perfectly.
She wiped at her face, removing the tears she'd cried for the past
hour at hearing of Andithiel's capture. The time for sorrow had
passed. The time for mourning was gone. Now was the time for revenge,
the time to put to the sword the enemies that had for so long
tormented her family and loved ones. She would live with the
consequences of tonight's battles, for she knew in her heart that her
enemies would not live to see the dawn. Her voice firm, she responded
finally to the Magistrix, “We are ready. You may begin.”
Tyavel nodded once, standing back a bit in front of Kyliska's horse,
her voice raised and commanding now, “Seluna Dawnsea has taken that
which belongs to my House and has harmed my family. She has harmed
your family as well. She is well aware of what she has done and what
our response will be, and so has prepared her defenses for a
counter-attack. She thinks to trap us when we portal into her domain,
to lead us into ambush and magical terrors that will put an end to
us.”
Tyavel paused, looking over the assembled Blood Knights, her own
apprentices standing silently behind her, “Tonight she will learn
that she lives in the past, and that we Sin'dorei live because we
have learned to survive, to think beyond the boundaries of our
limitations. Tonight she will pay for her arrogance.”
Tyavel's hand came up, her fingers snapping and sending her
apprentices scurrying behind her. They began to chant, their spells
combining to form a huge portal that glowed in Sunfire Estate's
courtyard. Tyavel did not bother to look back, her eyes meeting
Kyliska's once more. She brought up her other hand, spouting a word
of magic and creating a small, illusionary hourglass that floated in
the air before her. The magical sand within it began to pour from the
top, emptying into the bottom.
“When the sands are empty, you begin. No sooner, no later,”
Tyavel said, her voice lowered once more.
With that she turned, walking towards the swirling portal behind her,
her apprentices falling into line with her, each of them disappearing
into the glowing magic and leaving the courtyard. Kyliska watched the
sands as they emptied out, knowing she had to trust in the magic and
wishing desperately that her sister were there to guide her.
A hand fell on Kyliska's shoulder and she turned to see Selenthiel
there, smiling from the back of a white hawkstrider, her blessing
settling in on Kyliska's shoulders like a soft blanket, “We will
win this night, Kyliska. Have faith. We will not let her continued
wrongs go unpunished.”
Kyliska nodded, her face grim as she remembered all of the horrors
that the Dawnsea family had unleashed upon her. As she recalled all
of the death and destruction. As she remembered her sister's face in
her mind. She turned her horse, holding her lance high before her
men, her knights saluting her as she began to speak.
“Tonight we ride not just for vengeance. We ride not just to free
the heir of House Felo'melorn. Tonight we ride together as one, House
allied to House, to put an end to a threat to all of Quel'Thalas. We
ride to bring justice to the unjust, to put wickedness to rest so
that our lands never again are scarred by the evils of necromancy and
those who would practice it. Tonight we honor the name of Sunfire, we
honor the memory of my fallen sister, Biara. Tonight, we will put an
end to this plague upon us and a sword to the heart of darkness! FOR
HOUSE FELO'MELORN, FOR HOUSE SUNFIRE, FOR QUEL'THALAS!”
The Blood Knights roared, their lances held high as Kyliska turned
towards the portal, her eyes watching the sands as the very last
grain fell into the bottom of the timepiece and the magical construct
disappeared. With firm motions she kicked her warhorse into motion,
her lance coming down in front of her and the sounds of hundreds of
Blood Knights spurring their mounts into a charge behind her rising
up.
Kyliska rode onward, the tip of her lance plunging into the portal
and quickly followed by the rest of her, magic rising up around her
and whisking her away.
**************************************************
*Dawnsea Manor, Outer Gates, An
hour past Midnight*
The magic flared and spat Kyliska out, her warhorse moving at full
speed even as she blinked to clear her eyes of the remaining flashes
of power. In front of her rose the forbidding gates of Dawnsea Manor,
the thick wooden structure set into a wall of stone twenty feet high.
She was about two hundred yards away from it, her speed picking up
quickly as her horse found its traction on the smooth manicured lawn
outside of the gates.
Ahead of her and all around the gate were Tyavel's apprentices, all
of them busily hurling magic at the structure not to destroy it, but
instead to freeze it solid. Blistering cold magic slashed into the
wood over and over, the guards within unable to open the huge gates
due to the ice on the hinges and the apprentices keeping their men
from the walls with vicious spells. Seluna had expected Tyavel to
launch a counter-attack, but she had never expected Tyavel to attempt
to breach the gates in a traditional fashion, and her men were badly
out of position, her wards completely useless against such an
assault.
Kyliska brought her lance up, the only sound in her ears the pounding
of her horse's hooves beneath her and the roaring warcries of a
hundred Knights echoing from behind her. Plunging towards the gate at
full speed, there was no way she could turn or stop herself, and she
didn't even try, trusting completely in Tyavel's word that her plan
would work.
The gate rose up quickly before her, the towering structure
dominating her sight. Kyliska brought her lance into perfect
alignment, the blunt tip aimed directly at the center of the gates.
She closed her eyes, feeling the momentum as she crossed the last few
feet and the tip of her lance slammed into the center of the gate
with all of the force of a battering ram, the blunt tip striking the
wood like a thousand hammers.
The wooden barricade had been struck with frozen ice that was well
beyond natural temperatures for over ten minutes. As the lance struck
it, it shattered like into a million pieces of crystallized icy and
bits of splinter, the weight of Kyliska's warhorse slamming the rest
of the barricade out of the way and her lance tearing out of her
hands from the force of the impact. The pain in her shoulder was
almost unbearable, her vision turning white for a moment from the
shock of it even as the shattered barricade fell to ruin around her
and her horse stumbled into the courtyard beyond, her Knights hot on
her trail, their own lances pummeling any resistance out of the way.
Ahead of Kyliska she could see the main structure of Dawnsea Manor
rising up across a small lawn, dozens of House Dawnsea elves
scrambling to get into defensive positions as their magically
weakened gate collapsed and allowed attackers to pour in. Ignoring
the screaming pain in her arm, Kyliska reach back and drew her
great-ax, her heels digging into her warhorse's flanks and driving
the wounded beast onward, her voice belting out over the sounds of
battle, “FOR ANDI!!!!!!!!”
A House Dawnsea guard rose up before her and Kyliska decapitated him,
not even slowing the momentum of her charge. She could see the doors
to the manor house being pulled closed ahead, and knew she had to
hurry. She spurred her mount faster, trampling those hapless enemies
that had been milling about in her path beneath its iron-shod hooves.
Her ax whirled, elves ducking or dying if they were not fast enough,
the estate house looming up over her.
Without pausing, Kyliska spurred her charging mount onward, the beast
clearing the front steps and riding all the way through the double
doors and into the foyer beyond. Elves scattered before it even as
the beast's horseshoes slid on the marble and the creature slammed
into the far wall of the foyer. Kyliska winced as her leg was pinched
between horse and wall and then she kicked her leg free and leaped
from its back, landing amongst the guards that had been trying to
close the door, her ax swinging wildly and her blood-curdling cries
making them flinch.
Elves fell around her. A guard tried to impale her with a pike and
had his legs cut out from beneath him. Another guard slammed a sword
into Kyliska's shoulder pauldron and she turned and body checked him,
her armored boot crushing his windpipe as he fell to the ground. She
was in a killing frenzy, those around her falling to her deadly
blade, her rage calling forth the Light and blinding her enemies even
as golden wings sprouted from her back.
Down one of the hallways connecting to the foyer Kyliska saw
reinforcements running, several of them spellcasters who paused at
the end of the hallway, pointing wands in her direction. She knew she
had to buy time for the rest of her men to take and hold the foyer,
and so she stood firm, her teeth grit at the inevitable death that
would come to her this night.
At least Andi
will be free.
Even as Kyliska thought this, the air beside her began to shimmer and
Tyavel appeared, her invisibility spell falling away. She stepped in
front of Kyliska just as the enemy spellcasters hurled bolts of fire
down the hallway, holding her hand palm outward. The fireballs
slammed into an icy barrier that surrounded the Magistrix, the flames
washing harmlessly past the two elves. Without saying a word Tyavel
brought her hand down and then back up, as if trying to lift
something, her face a mask of cold calculation.
The end of the hallway detonated, a fiery explosion consuming the
three spellcasters that had tried to slay Kyliska, their screams
echoing down the hallway as they were immolated. Tyavel pointed,
shards of razor sharp ice flying from her finger and ricocheting down
the narrow corridor, shredding the armored elves that had tried to
run up towards the two and spilling their blood all over the marble.
Behind the two, Kyliska's Knights finally caught up, dozens of them
dismounting and pouring into the now-forced manor doors, some turning
to hold the corridors behind them and others bunching up behind
Kyliska. She wasted no time, offering Tyavel the briefest of nods
before bringing her ax up and charging down the hallway, her warcry
echoing through the narrow stone corridor.
Behind her Tyavel followed, Selenthiel close behind with the bulk of
Kyliska's Knights and a handful of Tyavel's apprentices, magic
glittering on their staves as they backed up the armed fighters that
had breached the gates. Like an unstoppable tide they poured down the
hallways Kyliska always in the lead and always covered in gore,
Tyavel right behind her, a silent and deadly force of nature that
laid low any who dared challenge her magic.
Several more hallways lead off from the main entrance, and these were
cleared with little resistance, the Dawnsea defenders wisely
attempting to fall back towards better defensive positions. Kyliska
eagerly pursued her foes, knowing that they would have to turn and
fight her when she neared Seluna's inner sanctums. As she rounded a
bend, the last of the retreating Dawnsea soldiers slammed a door in
her path, and she ran towards it, burying half her ax in the wood.
Tyavel walked up beside Kyliska as the enraged Blood Knight pulled
her ax from the wood, a smirk on her face, “Allow me, Kyliska dear.
Save your ax for what lies beyond.”
Tyavel pressed her palm to the wooden door, chanting something under
her breath. There was a pulse of magic from her body and the
barricade blew inward, the arcane spells hurling the door into ruin
in the center of what was obviously a dining hall. Kyliska charged
through the opening, Tyavel on her heels and Knights pouring in
behind the two, only belatedly realizing they had run into a
last-ditch ambush.
On the far side of the dining hall a row of archers brought their
bows up, their aim true as they let their shafts fly. Kyliska gasped
as arrows struck her armor, denting it in places and getting caught
in her left pauldron. Tyavel's face had a mildly irritated look as
the arrows bounced off of her magical wards, weakening them slightly
before she wisely took cover behind a small round table that had been
set near the doors. Kyliska noted the Magistrix's actions and took
cover herself, both of them flipping the tables upright as more
arrows slammed into their targets.
“What now?!” Kyliska yelled as her Knights attempted to seek
cover in vain. Several were struck with arrows while others found
similar shelter behind overturned tables.
“We need some way to close the distance without being struck!”
Tyavel shouted back. “I can hit them with my spells but not while I
need to focus on keeping their arrows from my flesh!”
Kyliska grinned, an idea coming to her as the Magistrix spoke.
“Arrows from our flesh! Right!” She sheathed her ax on her back,
reaching down to grasp the legs of the table in front of her. With a
heave that sent stars dancing through her vision from the pain in her
shoulder, she lifted the table up, holding it steady as she began to
advance towards the archers. The wooden barricade shuddered as it was
struck by shaft after shaft, the table a pincushion before Kyliska
had crossed half the distance.
“Primitive, but effective,” Tyavel conceded, rising from her
place of cover and pointing. As the archers focused on Kyliska's
advance, they had little warning before shards of ice crossed the
distance, slamming into them and slaughtering several of them
outright. One of the archers actually had his bow snap as the heavy,
cold projectiles slammed into the fragile wood, the bowstring
whipping him across the face and rendering him unconscious.
Kyliska reached the far side of the room, hurling the arrow-filled
table at her enemies even as her Knights jumped over their own
barricades and rushed the remaining defenders. A few Knights fell,
but by then it was too late, Kyliska's ax was back in her hand and
more corpses fell to the elegant hardwood floor.
With a roar Kyliska moved past the bodies, kicking open the door on
the far end of the dining hall and plunging into the hallway beyond,
noting how the décor became more expensive and decorative in the
space beyond; it was exactly what she was looking for. With a grin
that foretold nothing but absolute slaughter, Kyliska dashed ahead,
her Knights struggling to keep up with her and forced to often break
off to cover openings and doorways that Kyliska ignored in favor of
following her own inner voice. Behind her Tyavel and Selenthiel
followed, the Magistrix on guard for magical traps and the High
Priestess frowning as she sensed something in the estate ahead.
After a moment Selenthiel came to a halt, her voice carrying to
Kyliska ahead and causing the three of them to pause, “There is
something amiss in the hallway to the right. The first door. I can
sense...evil. Some sort of dark power there.”
Tyavel closed her eyes, concentrating and murmuring. After a moment
her eyes snapped open and she nodded, her voice grim, “Andithiel is
in that direction as well. He still wears a ring I gifted him and I
can detect its presence at such a close proximity.”
Kyliska's eyes widened, her voice strained, “Is he..?”
“He lives. The magic would not function if he did not,” Tyavel
replied, her voice firm. “We must hurry.”
Kyliska needed no goading, her boots already pounding on the lushly
carpeted floor as she dashed down the hallway Selenthiel had
indicated. She shoulder slammed the first door she came to, bursting
into the room beyond and stumbling into it in horror.
It was a charnel-house. The circular conjury room beyond was filled
with corpses that lay around a central dais in the center of the
room. The stone dais was empty, blood from a hundred elves covering
it and defiling it. Before it knelt Seluna, her back to the doorway
as she completed some spell she was working on.
Kyliska stumbled forward a few steps, almost retching from the stench
of the place. Her head whipped around as she heard Andithiel's voice
cry out from his place in the cage, “Kyliska! She's completed some
dark ritual! Watch out!”
Tyavel and Selenthiel rushed into the room behind Kyliska, the three
preparing themselves for whatever defenses Seluna had in place in her
most private sanctum. Seluna herself rose slowly, turning to face the
intruders with a grin. She brought hand up, her magic reaching out
across the room and slamming the door shut behind the trio.
“Welcome to the dawn of a new day for Quel'Thalas,” Seluna said
happily. “I am so glad that you decided to come to me, and have
saved me the effort of hunting you down in your own estates.”
“YOU WILL DIE FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ANDITHIEL! FOR WHAT YOU DID
TO MY SISTER!” Kyliska's rage-fueled cry echoed through the room
and she immediately charged forward, her boots nearly slipping on the
blood-soaked floor.
Seluna merely smirked, bringing a hand up and then whipping it
downwards. Tendrils of shadow magic crossed the distance between
Kyliska and Seluna in an instant, slashing into Kyliska's thigh and
punching through the armor there. With a cry the Blood Knight fell,
her form clattering to the bloody marble.
“I think not. Your time has come and gone, and I will usher in a
new era for the people of these lands. Those that defy me, like you,
will pay the ultimate price for your arrogance. You will not be
allowed to ruin this nation any longer!” Seluna replied, her voice
scolding.
Tyavel stepped around the fallen Kyliska, her voice firm as she
replied, “Seluna Dawnsea, as a representative of the Magistrate of
Quel'Thalas, I hereby charge you with the crime of practicing
necromancy within our domain. I charge you with the crime of
assaulting the citizens of Quel'Thalas. Finally, I charge you with
the crime of abducting a member of one of the noble houses of
Quel'Thalas. Surrender now, or be thrown down in death.”
Seluna laughed, pointing at Tyavel and lashing out with her magic
again. This time the shadowy tendril struck a magical barrier, and
Seluna frowned as she lashed out a second time. Tyavel immediately
reacted, hurling bolts of razor sharp ice at the empowered High
Priestess, even as Selenthiel began to chant, her healing magics
soothing Kyliska's wounds and shielding her sister.
Kyliska groaned, rising from her place on the floor and gathering up
her ax, advancing towards the dark priestess even as Tyavel continued
to hurl bolts of ice at her. The spells seemed to slam into an
invisible barrier in the air before the priestess, and Kyliska
quickly found her own advance halted as more shadowy tendrils began
to lash at her. It was all she could to do shield herself, even with
the Light surrounding her in a protective bubble.
Seluna snarled, a dark word of power lashing out and dispelling
Kyliska's holy shield, her magics again slashing into Kyliska's flesh
and drawing blood from her arm. On the far side of the room, Tyavel
continued to chant, even as her wards began to fail from the constant
assault of dark magic, her ice bolts doing little noticeable damage
to the vile priestess. It was only through Selenthiel's prayers that
the trio even remained standing, and it was clear that they soon
would be overwhelmed by Seluna's newly enhanced power.
Kyliska screamed a warcry, rising to her feet again even as she was
lashed again and again. She felt the magic tear into her stomach, rip
a pauldron from her armor, and rip open her knuckles and still she
pressed on, her head bowed as if walking into a vile wind. Seluna
merely laughed, increasing her assault further, lashing Kyliska over
and over as it to punish the insolent child that thought to challenge
her.
As blow after blow rained down on her, Kyliska fell to her knees, her
blood adding to the gory mess on the floor of the room. Barely
retaining consciousness, she held her ax before her, the cold hard
steel offering only a little protection from the relentless assaults
from Seluna's magic. The dark priestess was barely visible now, her
power so immense that it blotted out the dim lights that illuminated
the chambers.
I've failed.
After all of this...all of our efforts, she is too strong now. She's
going to kill all of us in here. House Sunfire and House Felo'melorn
will fall. All because I am too weak, because I did not act soon
enough, because I failed. I see now what Biara suffered, the burden
she felt every waking moment of her life of knowing that a single
mistake would end it all for us. I wish...I wish I could tell her. I
wish I could have fought beside her one last time. She deserved to
have been here with us, even if we all fell together.
Tears streamed down Kyliska's cheeks, her emotions raging even as
blood poured from her wounds. Her hoarse voice cried out across the
chamber, a death-dirge that made Seluna smirk. “BIARAAAAAAAAAAA!”
A flash of light and a sudden uncomfortable feeling made Kyliska snap
back to full consciousness, her eyes darting down to take in the
sight of the bracelet on her wrist that Biara had given her glowing
hotly. It became uncomfortably warm in an instant, so painful that
Kyliska forgot everything around her and dropped her ax, snatching
the jewelry from her arm and hurling it away.
For a moment it went unnoticed, tumbling end over end across the
room, its light growing brighter and brighter. Soon it became so
bright that even Seluna noticed it, her eyes wide as her spells
faltered, Tyavel too holding back her magic as all watched the
strange glowing bracelet tumble towards the floor.
Only it never hit the floor.
It hovered in the air, magic pulsing from it in waves, the light
growing ever brighter. Sounds began to emanate from it, muted at
first and then clearly audible to all in the room.
“Father, when I grow up, I wish to be a fighter like you,” a
young female elven voice said.
“Mother, I will finish my spell studies after I go to
Kyliska's party!” a slightly older elven child said.
“Kyli, no matter what happens, we're best friends for life. Blood
oath and all. You can always count on me. Why, you're like my
sister,” a teenaged elven voice seemed to say.
“Kyli...I don't know how anyone could ever replace your mother,
your family, but you will always have a place with me, with my
House,” Biara Dayfire's voice echoed through the room.
“FOR QUEL'THALAS, FOR THE HORDE!” Biara Dayfire's voice shouted
in a warcry.
A thousand other moments echoed, shouted, whispered, confided, and
cried from the pulsing magic, as if the life of Kyliska's best friend
and sister were being replayed in that moment. Tears streamed down
Kyliska's face as emotions ran through her, as each moment of the
life shared with her sister was replayed by the magic. She wept
openly, even as the sounds rose to a crescendo that was almost
deafening.
The magical orb pulsed one more time, the weird bubble of time-space
becoming unstable as magic tore it to shreds, the spell falling in on
itself and imploding before bursting outward with a blinding flash of
light. When the light had gone and everyone's vision had cleared, a
figure stood where the light had been.
Biara Sunfire stood in the room, her dress soaked with seawater, her
lank red hair hanging limply around her face. Her eyes were closed,
as if she were concentrating, and in one hand she held the bloody
remains of a heart large enough to fit in a dragon's chest. Her other
hand held a dagger that shimmered strangely and was hard to look at,
as if it were there but not there at the same time. For a moment
Kyliska blinked, unable to understand why the ghost of her sister
would appear in the room with them in that moment, her heart pounding
in her chest.
And then Biara opened her eyes, and Kyliska knew that she was looking
at no ghost.
“Hello Mother,” Biara said, her eyes locking with Seluna's. “I
see you're causing trouble yet again. And to think you must have been
so elated to know I was dead. Yet here I am to ruin your plans once
again. I see that you've brought the others here as well, which is
perfect as I believe it is time to put an end to this once and for
all, don't you...”
Biara's eyes began to glow, fel magic seeping from them and turning
to vapor in the air around her face, her power growing.
“....you traitorous...”
The wards on Biara's face flared to life, similar wards on her body
glowing with such a bright blue that they were visible through her
robes.
“...little...”
The air above her hand began to shimmer, the dragon's heart turning
to ash as a ball of fire grew, hovering in the air above Biara's
upraised palm.
“...bitch!”
If Biara had walked up and begun to slap Seluna in the face, her
appearance would still not have had a greater impact on the vile
creature. Seluna began to rage, her anger flaring to life in the form
of shadows that seeped from her body. She screamed incoherently at
the ceiling, her fists clenched and shaking, shadowy magic slashing
into the walls and ceiling and gouging great chunks out of the stone.
Marble fell around her as she stomped her feet like a petulant child,
unable to articulate her anger.
After a few moments of this, Biara had had enough and casually
flicked her wrist at her mother, a massive ball of fire flying
through the air and detonating on Seluna's wards. The dark priestess
shrieked as her protective barrier shuddered and nearly collapsed,
her mouth opening to spit out angry words and slamming shut as she
was forced to concentrate when Biara hurled a second ball of fire,
never relenting in her attack.
Across the room, Tyavel saw an opportunity and shouted a word of
power, blinking across the space between herself and Seluna, her
hands outstretched as she hurled magic at the dark priestess's back.
Shards of jagged ice slammed into Seluna's wards, several of the
spells severing shadowy tendrils that had been meant for Biara. Even
so, Seluna retaliated, lashing out at Biara and shattering her
protective barriers after several hits, a shadowy tendril slapping
Biara's wrist and causing her to yelp and drop the dagger she'd been
holding. Shadowy apparitions arose from the ground around Seluna,
their shape matching the priestess's and their inky forms slithering
towards Tyavel, forcing the Felo'melorn Magistrix on the defensive as
she slashed into the attacking magic with her own spells.
From her place on the floor, Kyliska watched the magical battle as it
escalated, the two powerful Magistrixes doing battle with Seluna and
holding their own, flames and fire dancing around Seluna's wards and
weakening them. Both Biara and Tyavel moved quickly, expertly
avoiding attacks or counterspelling Seluna a the most opportune
moments, keeping her spells at bay for as long as possible.
Kyliska coughed, her blood running down her chin from a punctured
lung. With her last dregs of energy she grabbed her ax, using it as a
crutch to rise to her feet. Selenthiel rushed over to her, pressing
her hands to Kyliska's badly wounded body but the Blood Knight waved
her away, pushing onwards towards Andithiel.
She barely made it to his cage, the last of her strength expended in
using her ax to break the lock. It clattered onto the marble floor
and was followed by Kyliska herself, her vision turning gray at the
edges as she struggled to maintain consciousness. In a flash both
Selenthiel and Andithiel were kneeling beside her, Kyliska's head
supported in Andithiel's lap.
“A-andi...” Kyliska said, coughing up more blood. “No m-matter
what h-happens....K-know that I will a-always love you. Always. I-I'm
sorry...I-I couldn't... b-be better for you. B-be what you deserved.
B-but I will g-give my life for you. M-my heart is always yours.”
Andithiel rocked Kyliska gently, shushing her and brushing her
blood-matted hair from her face even as Selenthiel desperately prayed
over her to stem the bleeding from her many wounds, “Hush, Kyli.
Save your strength now. I want you to promise me something.”
Kyliska looked up at Andithiel with glazed eyes, her breath coming in
short gasps from the pain, “A-anything...”
“I want you to wait for me. Just for a little while. If we are to
put the past behind us, to start a new slate, then there is something
I must do. Will you do that for me?” he said softly.
“I-I'll wait....forever...” Kyliska sighed. She frowned as
Andithiel gently lowered her to the floor, her hand reaching out to
him, “A-andi...?”
He reached out, caressing her fingers with his before rising all the
way, looking down on her, “Wait for me, beloved. Only for a little
while.”
With that he turned and walked way, Kyliska's weak pleas unheeded,
“A-andi....n-no...please...”
In the center of the room the battle raged on, Biara and Tyavel
darting in and out of danger, hurling spells at Seluna one after the
other. The sky rained ice, the ground burned in flames. Arcane
explosions ripped through the corpses laying all over the floor, and
darts of bright magic fought back against the darkness that
threatened to destroy both spellcasters. Although they were powerful,
Seluna's completion of her ritual had made her stronger, and both
Biara and Tyavel found their strength waning, their wards failing as
spell after spell struck them. In the end, Seluna lashed out one
final time, ripping through Biara's wards and hurling her to the
ground.
Seluna laughed, standing over her daughter even as Tyavel fought in
vain against her apparitions, her voice hollow and cold, “And so I
now put an end to the one mistake in my life. That I ever thought to
raise you properly is laughable to me now. Go, dear Biara'thiel, go
now to your death. Go and be-”
Seluna's voice faltered, her eyes wide as she looked down in horror
at her chest. There, lodged neatly through her heart was the dagger
Biara had been carrying, the spellblade shimmering in and out of
existence. Not of this time and place, her wards had done nothing to
stop it, and it had cut through her flesh with ease.
Andithiel stood behind her, his grip on the blade firm, his voice
echoing in Seluna's ear, “That was for Kyliska. For my men. For
Biara. For all of the people that you have wronged in your years
walking this world.”
Seluna's mouth opened and closed, blood gushing from it. She slipped
to her knees as Andithiel pulled the knife free, his free hand coming
to grasp her hair. Biara watched in morbid fascination, her eyes
locked with her mother's as Andithiel brought the dagger up again,
setting it to her throat.
“And this is for my unborn child, you murderous wench,” Andithiel
said coldly, dragging the blade across Seluna's throat and executing
her. He released her hair, pushing her forward to fall face first in
the gore of her many victims, her body convulsing and pale
scourge-fire beginning to glow around her.
For a moment the room was silent, Seluna's magic falling still as she
passed, her transformation into a true lich beginning as her soul
sought its new phylactery. In that moment there was a blinding flash
of light, and all who looked were forced to close their eyes for a
moment.
When Andithiel opened his eyes again, they widened in surprise as he
took in three figures before him. One was kneeling on the floor, her
flame red hair and features so similar to Biara's that he knew
without even questioning that this was the true face of Biara's
mother. Before her stood the ghostly apparition of a male Quel'dorei,
a female Quel'dorei with glowing wings of light standing slightly
behind him.
“And so your reign of terror comes to an end at last,” the
Quel'dorei said, looking down sadly at the kneeling ghost before him.
“Seluna Dawnsea, born Selun'athiel Dawnslight and living as
Selun'athiel Dayfire....my wife. Time after time you were given
mercy. Time after time you were given the opportunity to mend your
ways, to heal your tattered soul and join me in true rest, and yet
you were unable to see your mistakes for what they were, unable to
see that your passions destroyed you.”
The ghost turned to look Andithiel in the eyes, and he had no doubt
that he was speaking to the noble Tel'athar Dayfire. The ghost nodded
at him once, his tone softening, “Thank you, champion, for freeing
us of the burden of watching over her. The body you destroyed was
freely given as a vessel to contain her, and we tried to help her
find salvation through the Light. As you can see, her own thirst for
power and her inability to grasp the consequences of her actions lead
her to this end, to the pitiful state in which you see her. Let this
be a lesson to you, and to others...power without wisdom, passion
without love, these things are like bitter poison to the soul.”
The ghost turned looking down at Selun'athiel, pity in his eyes, “I
am sorry my beloved, but you have gone too far, done too much. Your
soul is bound now to the phylactery, but we have been granted one
last gift, one last boon of the Light. You shall not rise again, but
shall be sealed within it, never to interfere with this world again.
Farewell, light of my heart. May your darkness never wax again.”
Selun'athiel's eyes widened in horror and she wailed, even as a
column of Light intensified around the trio. In a blinding flash the
three disappeared, the ghosts departed back to their afterlife, or
punishment.
Andithiel nodded once, throwing the dagger on the floor with a
clatter before turning and walking back towards where Selenthiel
tended to Kyliska, his heart lighter as if a heavy burden had been
lifted from him.
Behind him, Biara slowly got to her feet, walking to the place where
her mother had been defeated and bending down to pick up the dagger,
studying it thoughtfully, and staring for a time at the empty space
where her father's ghost had stood. Tyavel moved to stand beside her,
also studying the spot silently for a time.
“And so ends a threat to both our Houses, and perhaps begins a new
dawning for them as well,” Tyavel said softly, looking at Biara and
beyond to where Andithiel knelt beside Kyliska, his hand firmly
holding hers as he leaned down to kiss her.
“So it does,” Biara said solemnly. “Let us never let it come to
this point again. Let us stand together against this, so that our
families can live in peace.”
“Agreed,” Tyavel said simply. She tilted her head, looking at
Biara, “There is a matter of...this place, and House Dawnsea. They
cannot be allowed to rebuild.”
Biara smirked, nodding at the other Magistrix, “You are correct.”
“After you then, Magistrix Sunfire,” Tyavel said.
“No, no, you have earned this honor. After you, Magistrix
Felo'melorn,” Biara replied.
Tyavel offered a rare smile and nodded, turning away from the group
and chanting. Flames shot from her hands, bathing the far walls and
ceiling and igniting various flammable objects that had been in the
room, catching the supports that held the marble in place in flames.
Biara followed suit, her own fires joining that of Tyavel's, until
the far side of the conjury was a roaring inferno. With a nod to one
another, the two elves turned and walked towards their companions,
each of them preparing portal spells.
Minutes later, a magical signal was sent out to Tyavel's apprentices,
and all of the attack force began to withdraw towards portals, even
as flames began to claim Dawnsea Estate.
Hours later, there would be nothing but charred ruins where the seat
of House Dawnsea's power once stood.
*************************************************
As the portals flared and died, the surviving attackers returned to
Sunfire Estate's courtyard, their jubilant cheers rising up. Tyavel
stood apart from the group, watching silently as Sunfire and
Felo'melorn alike rejoiced in their victory. She watched as Andithiel
carefully held Kyliska in his arms, as if he worried that when he let
her go she would be gone from him forever. She watched Kyliska's
Blood Knights and her own apprentices congratulate each other, smiles
on their faces as they shook hands and recounted tales of their
bravery.
And she watched Biara Sunfire as she emerged from the crowd, her eyes
looking around wildly as if searching for something, until a small
child ran from the estate's main doors and into her arms. She watched
the Magistrix pick up the small red-haired girl and hold her close,
tears streaming down her face and a thousand “I love yous”
passing from Biara's lips.
In that moment, Tyavel allowed herself to feel content again. She
forgave herself for allowing her defenses to be breached, and
congratulated herself for her cunning victory. A smile even passed
over her face briefly as she watched the others, knowing that
happiness would become the rule rather than the exception.
As she watched Andithiel kiss Kyliska again, and Biara holding her
daughter, Tyavel's smile faded and was replaced by a frown.
She would be damned if she was babysitting any time soon.
With that she turned, slipping from the group and murmuring a spell
to whisk her back to her own sanctum and a well deserved glass of the
finest wine.
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