Aurelithae’s chest burned, her wheezing and the leather creaking intermingled as she rose back to her feet, biting down her tongue with force. It did little in stifling the spreading pain. As she looked up, her eyes shot wide in horror and disgust as flesh, the bones beneath Terrianis’s skin shifted, undulated, contorted amidst a grizzly sonata. Two new heads grown from the sides, looking down at her with scorn and disgust. Terrianis wept in silence betwixt his predecessors.

  With a metallic hiss, Teneaorel slid out from the scabbard, the inlaid lines lit up in a mesmerizing purple, in the shade of majestic amethysts. Aurelithae cleaved the air, from the tip an ethereal, ominous streak drawn upon the space and glided towards the whirling storm of arkhaine energies replacing the legs of her… father.

  Three dragon’s heads sprouted from the whirling limb shimmering in shifting shades. One the familiar head with a beaked mouth, regal and adorned with the crown of majestic stags; the second broad and feline with whiskers at the sides of its tapering head, a lion’s mane of dancing colors; and the last ghastly, gaunt with hollow eyes and horns a white mist forming two crescents under the head Aurelithae recognized as her grandfather’s. Each lashed out like hounds, stopping the curving streak of nekrotic matter filled with her killing intent, and disintegrated into etheric dust within their molded jaws.

  Aurelithae took a step back, noticing the air contorting around her. She nearly stumbled as the platform shuddered, the pond beyond the promontory disturbed reflecting death and destruction wrought upon the streets in incensed flickers. The marble all around them howled in its wild expansion.

  Floor trundled forward and backwards, pushing her away from the Elhyrissiar whose countenances appeared calmer, their lids shut as if they rested peacefully before her senses alerted her with an acute pinch pushing upon her chest and nape. She vanished swift, appeared not far from where she stood, near the expanding edge of the platform. An etheric spear jabbed into the door, puncturing the metal, the living and shifting carvings wept in agony as they crumbled onto the floor.

  Beyond the aperture, nothingness stared back.

  Biting her lips at the continuous duress, Aurelithae lifted up her right arm, folded her index, middle, ring and pinky finger upon the soft palm of her thumb whilst tapping into the Authority of Pride and the gift given by Grimslaukh. The space before her contorted into a circle, and in its center, waves raged about, flooding the room, and the pond swallowed the deluge. The second incoming spear of pure matter passed through the hole, into a distant segment of Elhyrissian’s ocean.

  Dumath manifested, her arms folded as the ground moved beneath Aurelithae, taking the balance from her. With a loud thud, she arrived onto her sides, Teneaorel slipped from her softened grip, slid right into the pond which swallowed it. “Get up girl.

  Wheezing, Aurelithae mustered all her aching muscles and rolled. From the floor, angular tendrils of stout marble swiveled forth, dashed serpentine towards her limbs. One wrapped around her ankles, and as she swung her arm, fingers partially folded, Teneaorel returned into her grip, sliced through the binding tendril like butter. Its gem lines glowed in a pink and red shade, as she cleaved at another tendril. The searing in her muscles ceased, when she thrusted her sword forward, slicing the last tendril starting from its tip, coming to plunge into her bosom.

  The Elhyrissiar shrieked in all three voices, hurled curses at her as the spell came undone. Aurelithae bellowed, wrapping both her hands around the handle, readying her muscles to take her close to their long neck. Three steps away, they hurled two of their conjoined arm. A force pummeled Aurelithae, sent her rolling back several meters.

  Aurelithae wiped the blood tainting her lips, in the same prismatic shade as her scales and eyes. It has been a long time since she last tasted her own blood, and it thrilled her. Only a little fear she felt towards the abomination that she may have become herself, whilst arising onto her feet with soft creaks emanating from her leathery garments. The plates pushing onto them tightly remained silent as a little of her blood dribbled onto them from her slender, straight snout.

  “Any ideas?” Aurelithae asked, her focus remaining on The Elhyrissiar whose six arms contorted before its chest.

  “None. This is the first time I witnesses one of His abominations.Endure.

  “Thought so.” Aurelithae said with a groan as she teleported back to the gate, which appeared even further whilst the ground previously beneath grown a hideous, fleshy jaw, from it a shriek cracked the ceiling high as the sky above.

  The middle two hands of the Elhyrissiar stretched out, then slapped loudly together, conjuring a hurricane which lifted her in the air and propelled her towards the gate. Dark and golden veins slithered along, beneath the fair skin towards the tips and back to his throat and lips moving without uttering audible words. Three vague silhouettes appeared, taking on familiar outlines before they gained features relatively familiar to Aurelithae. With a slackened pace from all the irritating pain, she got back onto her feet, prepared to welcome these newcomers with a vicious smile of her own.

  One took on the appearance of Isocrates in his last hours, before he turned to gold and glimmering dust. The second tall and handsome as Albrion, clad in his full dark panoply chased in gold and ruby. The third assumed the lovely face bereft of emotions belonging to Calaviril. Each of them marched towards her, Albrion vanishing as he leapt between the different Streams of Time, Calaviril with her golden blade thrusted forward, a serpentine torrent of flame leashing down at Aurelithae dodging each thrust of the vague head. And Isocrates conjuring a blinding storm. Thundering streaks lashed out wild, most hitting blind, except the one that mattered. It smote into her left shoulder, the jolt of pain nearly delivered her to the lands of Oneiron.

  Aurelithae pushed herself up and leapt out from the strike of the faux Albrion who appeared then vanished in the same breath. Admiration and envy mixed in her heart as a shockwave ran through her arm whilst parrying a swing aimed at her left side. A bright, zesty yellow inky stripe and a dark blue rounded about her draconic irises, connecting their tips as she ducked down and thrusted her blade glowing in the same shades and a darker purple into the knees. Her hopes vindicated, the plate shattered like glass, whilst the dusk spell spread like wildfire, blackening the flesh, pulverizing the bone. Though her honed sixth sense could not reveal the nature of the spell which conjured forth the three simulacrums.

  “You shall have plenty of time to learn, if you survive this night. Focus!

  Still, Aurelithae could not help but ruminate whilst dodging the incoming thunder strikes. A part of her had the notion it was some perversion, an altered nekromantic spell calling the dead from the kingdom of the Gray Monarch. Seeing Albrion and Calaviril did shatter this notion quick–she continued believing in their survival–beyond knowing that only two or three entities could have such authority over the dead.

  The sole thing she remained sure of, the three were poor imitations of Isocrates, Calaviril and Albrion. With that conviction, she parried Albrion’s swings, then decapitated him without batting an eye nor be subjected to great waves of regret and sorrow. This time, blood thick and black as ink poured forth, trailed down on the faux plates, maintained its form instead of breaking down into particles fleeing towards the domed and vast ceiling.

  “They are blood and flesh.” She noted. Now the spell seemed similar in nature to her achievement in creating a husk that later became little Typhaon. Yet unlike the creature, they were no more than puppets pushed and tugged along by unseen threads. Mere extensions of the Elhyrissiar’s great will, who strangely lurked tranquil above the throne, observing with shut eyes.

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  A strong torrent of air rich in dancing lightning dashed at Aurelithae, though passed through empty space where she stood moments before impact. Instead, they rammed Albrion’s simulacrum through the hole, into the nothingness beyond. She appeared before the last simulacrum, and before he could leap away, her blade sunk deep into his chest, inky black blood sheathed the blade, whilst the hilt knocked against his flowing robe and bosom.

  As the simulacrum perished, the raging storm ceased at once, then she cleaved through his bosom whilst leaping out from the fiery serpent’s way attached to Calaviril’s blade. She recalled the teachings of Albrion, and leapt first into a Stream of Time mildly quicker than the natural mortals existed within. With each dodge, she leapt from one Stream to another, until Calaviril moved with the pace of snail, noticing too late the blade cleaving her in two by the waist. Similarly, citrine hued red blood flown from both wounds, tainting the amber silken cloth she wore the last time Terrianis saw her.

  With an eloquent move, she leapt sideways, watched as both halves of the corpse lit up in prismatic flames, and the force of the blast nearly threw her in the bottomless pond. Once more, The Elhyrissiar animated, and from Terrianis’s lips shimmering bolts shot towards her. Glowing blue and golden circles appeared before Aurelithae, containing interlocked pyramids and squares; shields against the projectiles. Each bolt battered against the first which shattered upon the fifth hit, then another materialized whilst Aurelithae pushed forward, tightening her grip around Teneaorel.

  Twenty or so steps away from The Elhyrissiar, Aurelithae bit into her soft lips, her limbs trembled from the first signs of her arkhaine euphoria shifting into irritation of her epidermis. It suddenly gained a strange weight, as if her plates gained back their natural weight, paired with the distant, vague pain of nails holding them against her flesh. “Damn it.” She cursed, feeling her limit nearing and the Rage prowling on the precipice, her doom following close behind. The enjoyment of the battle turned into impatience as she neared towards The Elhyrissiar. Then anger when the room expanded once more, lengthening the two away from each other.

  Aurelithae nearly decapitated herself, as she cupped both her ears. The three shrieked in unison, the stone trembled and undulated, pushing her further away. From their sides, teeming prismatic blood trickled down, brass and gold shafted spears sunk half deep into the sturdy flesh.

  “You have done well my dearest.” Cold arms wrapped about her waist, soothing the pain of her body, and the one which lingered like a shadow on her soul for decades.

  “Mother.” She uttered breathless, a dour weight upon her throat. Tears trickled down upon her prominent cheeks, dropped upon the floors. When she turned, the metallic visage, a spitting image of Oyotarimel smiled back, the metallic ripples formed gentle wrinkles as she smiled back at her, caressing her cheeks, wiping off the tears. Aurelithae thanked all beings for the spotless memory of her kindred. Her own arms slipped around the cold waist, tautened as repressed emotions swept her. After the flood of tears stopped, calm returned. She turned her head, hearing the spears shattering, followed by another shriek, much more bearable.

  “Bring an end to their reign!” Oyotarimel held her hand, lifted her up as they faced The Elhyrissiar, stared right into Terrianis’s frozen eyes. Frozen with fear and sorrow before his face shifted to the left side, Primuinis taking over.

  The roiling storm of pure materia formed into firm legs, ethereal blades formed in each hand. The ground trembled beneath their feet, as The Elhyrissiar charged, cutting through swathes of Talos Legionaries, tumbling into the bottomless pond. “What a sorry sight you became Terrianis.” Oyotarimel’s left arm whirred before them, with a sweep Aurelithae’s crimson red tail flung above her head as the space distorted and whilst they remained firmly glued to the floor, The Elhyrissiar tumbled onto the ceiling as the whole room shuffled upside down.

  “Pierce at the hip, there the Shard remains powering their abominable vessel, shackling their souls to the mortal realm.” Slowly, she released her grip about Aurelithae’s waist who pointed thirsting Teneaorel forward, and dove upwards the bellowing Elhyrissiar, held down by dozens of Talos Legionaries whilst more and more crawled forth the shifting painting of the ceiling, taking their place.

  At once they all ruptured into metallic bits and pieces burned into motes of floating ash. Their arms reached downwards, and Aurelithae sensed the increased beating of her heart. It thrummed hard against her bones, nearly breaking out from its cage. Regardless, she wavered not as myriad unseen blades formed and prepared to mince her into bloody bits. She felt Typhaon’s claws dug into her back, pulled her away as they came. A few she cut at, rending them in two, before straightening Teneaorel, its sharp point staring right at The Elhyrissiar’s hip.

  A hundred or more Talos Legionaries appeared before her, a shield against thousands of spell, obliterating their forms completely. Pieces flittered around still before her. She sharpened their edges, and like meteorites, hurled towards The Elhyrissiar, slammed into him and the ceiling. It exploded, letting the silvery rays of pallid Lunarius shine inside the throne room returned into reality. A few even passed through the stretched-out flesh of The Elhyrissiar, slicing off at least one hand from its wrist, though no blood flown from the wound. In its place, a streak of the bright, strange color leaked out, lashed and whirled, forming an aegis before The Elhyrissiar.

  Gazing at the light seeping from behind the abhorrent form, Aurelithae realized the space lengthened with each passing second. A spell produced not by the feeble maghia of mortals, but the Authority of Higher Beings, she sensed in the nature, the way the elements constituting space and time adhered to the will of the Three. Or was it two? She pondered, recognizing the great power of The Elhyrissiar, the way the faces shifted and how morose Terrianis appeared, on the brink of tears almost.

  She grinned at the sight. Aurelithae wished to call out to Dumath, but she remained in her hole within her soul, though the reason escaped Aurelithae. Would she not like to be here, in their hour of triumph?

  Her eyes focused on the blurry surroundings, then closed them whilst pulling in a lungful of air. A thousand whispers, or something akin to that pierced her eardrums, though no blood trickled out from the shadowed hole, but felt the elements form tendrils as they latched onto her soul, and at once wrestled with two more dreaming wills to shorten the span betwixt themselves, to stop her fall at last.

  As the distance shortened finally, the flesh parted wide across the chest of the Elhyrissiar, a toothless mouth with a pinkish, lashing tongue whipped towards her and at once, Aurelithae hastily sheathed her blade, held one arm over herself as she crashed through the abruptly appearing chunk of earth. Its pieces latched on as if covered by some viscous glue, vomited venom into her veins as she felt a caustic burning within her body, forced her jaws shut not to cry from the pain.

  Then the feeling vanished, the stones enveloped by inky darkness evaporated and Aurelithae exhaled, noticing Mirayroth standing near The Elhyrissiar. Terrianis’s face bellowed in anger staring at the niuvhe draped in all black, wearing his featureless white mask. So wide his mouth opened, the flesh at the corners parted, formed a chasm across the cheeks and in any normal circumstance would have been considered a sort of decapitation, but in this it appeared more like a hideous blooming flower. Within its boundaries, an odd light shone upon Mirayroth, then he leapt from the plummeting chunks of crumbling wall all around them. A needless effort as they turned from stone into pure materia.

  The energy itself reconstructed into spells, a few the unseen kind of space distorting, the others hurled through these barely visible tunnels trailing Mirayroth who vanished each time just as the spells arrived to obliterate him. Infernal flames and blackened, onyx shackles with searing cracks tore into the Elhyrissiar, drawing away its attention from Mirayroth as Proclus appeared, standing besides Oyotarimel, his runic tattoos beneath his thick black fur glowing in the same demoniac shades.

  Swirling spheres of flames soared towards The Elhyrissiar’s bosom, sprawled and gnawed voracious. Within a seconds, they wiped them away, before the shackles grew hooks at their ends. They dug deep into their flesh and arm and the strange etheric legs. The latter vanished, exploded into scintillating motes of manifold colors just as Aurelithae plummeted back towards the round section of the platform. Her blade ran cleanly into the strange, distorted hip, and at once all three visages screamed as they fell. At once, the chaos of the space came upon an end, order returned imposing the laws of mortal space. Mirayroth and Proclus landed on their soles, whilst her mother returned loud, beyond her comfort.

  As they whirled around, Aurelithae noticed her mother kneeling on the floor as the shriek broke her focus, and in her anger, deepened her blade. “These two wasted our eternity, but I shan’t. He promised me eternity, and I shall grasp it myself.” Hearing her great-grandfather’s deep voice, Aurelithae looked up and stared into the hateful eyes as flesh lengthened far, tissue elongated vile tearing apart the branching nerves, popping the pulsating veins of odd colors. Anessarion tore himself free from the other two, lunged at her.

  Aurelithae prepared to slice him into two, felt assured in the sharpness of her gifted blade. Anessarion smiled wickedly as he passed through like a specter, into her bosom where he borrowed deep, deep into her soul, cackling all the way down the gulfs of her being.