Take Back the Crown

Valeiah had been sleeping a distance away from her brother, still angry at him about the fight they'd had. It was ridiculous that they were still mad at each other. Alo wanted to not be fighting anymore, but they were both too stubborn to apologize. So they kept their distance.


Alo awoke from his very light sleep. Ever since the night his family had been slaughtered, he wasn't able to sleep deeply. Every small noise awoke him— this one being about an attack. He sat up, immediately looking towards his sister to make sure she was okay. He saw she was. It was a relief.
 
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With all the travel, Foxrun had been sleeping rather heavily, unable to hear what little warning the Prince had provided. What did wake him however, was his tent collapsing on top of him, followed by some sort of scrambling. 


Shooting up, he saw a flash of light, dazed, he looked around to see the Prince was the cause of his fallen tent. And the light was fire, being wielded by Aggie. "What the..." he muttered, gaze falling on the demoness just on the other side of a newly formed glass wall.


"MOVE." he heard the mage instruct the boy, knowing he should do the same.


"Here!" He gestured as he leapt up to guide the boy along with him. This way, any who wanted the Prince, would have to go through him.


@Lo Alyssa@  /all   
 
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"Valeiah. Valeiah, get up." Alo said, pulling his sister up by the arm and moving her behind him. Valeiah blinked tiredly, looking over his shoulder. "What....? Oh." She pushed him away from her. "What do you want?" She grumbled. "Valeiah, get out your dagger." Alo instructed.
 
   Hjalmar had been resting in his cot under the protective tent roof, though sleep did not come to him. He had spent hours just staring at the mark on his forearm, rubbing his thumb along the pattern, his blank gaze suggested he was in deep thought. It consumed his thoughts at night. Every day, it seemed to be getting stronger, and as it grew, so did the whispers and dancing shadows in the corners of his eyes. The marking was magical- almost alive, there was no doubt about that. Which only made him feel all the more wary of what it could herald.


   He was snapped out of his deep thoughts at the sound of a voice, it was filled with urgency. As the companions in his group, including himself, would not risk resting without their armor adorned, the coming battle was well prepared for, albeit sudden. His short swords were already fastened to his legs, but his crossbow was resting against the pole of his tent. He scrambled out of his wool blanket to snatch it, and then burst from the tent with a bolt already drawn back- ready to fire at whatever enemy they were faced with. He had it positioned to aim, but his guard lowered as his gaze was caught by a female daemon standing calmly several feet away. She appeared as if she were the woman in charge, that she was the one leading this hoard against the princess and her group. Noticing that she seemed distracted with other things, Hjalmar took aim at her and released the bolt with swift precision.


   It was so fast, he hardly had time to comprehend what happened next. As soon as the crossbow clicked and the arrow flung towards her, her horned head whipped in his direction. Her eyes shone brightly in anger, without a word she stopped the bolt dead in its tracks- mere inches from her face! With a flick of her head she turned it around so it was aiming at him instead and then released. Hjalmar knew he wouldn't have time to dodge out of the way, so in a last ditch attempt, he raised his arms to shield himself. His eyes jerked shut as he turned his head away, but...


   Nothing happened.


   He was expecting the sharp pain of being skewered like a fish, but it never came. Befuddled, he lowered his arms to look. The bolt was frozen in midair, only a hairs length away from touching his skin. Why wasn't she killing him? He stared at her with confusion, stepping out of the arrows path just in case. Her expression no longer seemed angry, but was now unreadable. What was she thinking? Her gaze softened, and the bolt dropped harmlessly to the floor. She flicked her hand and he was tossed out of the campsite, he rolled a few times before coming to stop, but when he did he couldn't get up. Perhaps it was the strangeness of what just happened. Did she... spare him? Why!? She certainly didn't display such mercy towards his fellow comrades. Without meaning to, he glanced at the covered arm he knew the marking was hiding underneath... Is this... tied to the marking somehow? He thought to himself. And now the boy felt more apprehension than before.


   Maybe I can use this to my advantage! He thought to himself, scrambling for his crossbow that had been tossed away with him. If his life had any value to the daemons, for whatever horrible reason that may be, than he could use that against them! He strapped his crossbow to his back and unsheathed his short swords. He sprinted back towards the encampment, ready to join the fight, but an invisible force threw him back again. He tried to enter the camp repeatedly, but each effort was met with the same results. Letting out a groan of agitation, Hjalmar decided to switch tactics. Sheathing his swords, he remained the distance he was and began shooting his crossbow. Discerning friend from foe was difficult with the dim lighting, thus his shots came much slower than usual. He let out a curse, hopefully someone would take care of that witch.


   Lucas blinked in response to Aggie's command, it was all happening so fast, he didn't have time to think. Realizing he had nearly crushed Foxrun, who had been peacefully sleeping in his tent, the boy reddened slightly, "Ah! I'm sorry!" He exclaimed before being pulled away by the fae. He turned to see Aggie continue her assault against the daemons, and he felt the slightest twinge of jealousy. He wished he was magically gifted like the powerful mages in their group. Maybe then, he would finally have a fighting chance against the daemons.


   The two ducked behind a caravan, which was being guarded by Ashlar on the ground, and Svetlana who made a perch on the roof- her hands moving in fluid movement as her magic swept through the battlefield, picking daemons off one by one. Lucas watched in awe for a moment, before he shook his head in defiance. Glancing at Foxrun, the prince wasn't sure what to do now that he was hiding by the caravans. He felt like a coward for fleeing. When he made a move to leave the safety of the caravans, he was pushed back by a green wave.


   "No!" Svetlana exclaimed, "Let us take care of it, Prince. Find your sister and make sure she's okay!" She shouted over the throes of battle.


   The prince cursed before glancing at Foxrun to follow, and darted around the caravans towards his sister's tent. The tent, as he expected, was empty. She was probably up and fighting already. "Do you see her anywhere?" The prince asked Foxrun while scanning the chaotic campsite.



 
​


   Yaroslav continued hacking away at the purple-skinned devils, strands of hair fell loose from his bun with every swing. One tried to sneak up behind him... it tried. Before it had the chance to pounce, Yaro spun on his heel and swung his axe into the daemons mouth, nearly beheading the thing. It fell limp to the ground and the warrior let out a guttural battle cry. Some of the other daemons surrounding him backed away in fear as his glowering eyes pierced through their souls. He charged at them, and finished them swiftly.


   "This isn't much of a challenge, Kvacht!" He yelled at no one in particular, "Still toying with us!? Or is this the best you can do!?" He mocked.


   "Would you like a challenge, mortal?" A placid, lulling voice asked of him from across the fire.


   Yaroslav turned his head to see the female daemon looking at him, not a hint of emotion on her face, making it difficult for Yaroslav to read. The soft yet powerful voice matched her composed physique. In response to her, Yaroslav calmly approached, the fire in his eyes were sure to answer her question.


   With little to no warning, she moved for the first time since arriving and sprung towards him. He lifted his axes to defend himself, and not a moment too soon as the air rung with a clang as her hardened hand struck the sharp end of his axe. With a whip of her hand, she knocked both from his grip. "You want to play with magic, huh?" Yaroslav asked with a deadly grin. He clenched his fists, and from them sparked a ghostly fire that engulfed his body. Her lip twitched, amused by his theatrics.


   As if in a beautifully coordinated dance, the two's magics collided with each other in bright bursts of fire and smoke. Hers was a fiery red, and like his grandmother's, Yaroslav's was a neon green that moved and twisted like fire. As they exchanged blows, Yaroslav managed to drive her farther away from the camp, hopefully making it easier on the rest of the group. However, she took notice of his intentions, and didn't plan on going along with it. With a wave of her arm, her magic hissed and hit Yaroslav square in the chest, forcefully catapulting him back towards the center of the camp. Unlike Lucas, he was not so lucky to miss the fire. His shoulder was nicked by the high flames, though his armor managed to block most of the blow. He jumped up from the ground, ready to parry with her again.


   Because the female daemon was distracted, Hjalmar managed to get back into the camp without being swatted away like a fly again. He reached for his quiver and cursed when his hand met emptiness. Switching to his swords, he was about to tackle the closest daemon, but stopped in his tracks as Yaroslav and the female daemon's battle caught his attention. He had never seen the warrior fight with raw magic before, he was powerful. It seemed for but a hopeful moment that Yaroslav had the upper hand against the wench, but the tides of favor shifted when the female daemon landed on the ground and shot a blast of magic at the warriors face. He cried out in pain as he fell on his back... hard. The whole side of his face already started to swell and bruise from the impact, not even seconds after being hit. The daemon got to her feet with an exhausted heave and lifted her glowing arm. She was going to deliver the final strike!


   But that strike never came.


   Purely out of instinct, like his body was moving on its own, Hjalmar lunged for the daemon... yet... his body hadn't moved... Then why did it feel as if he ran straight for her? The daemon was struck by some invisible force from the side, and bashed into the stone formation. Hjalmar looked at the scene in confusion. How? Did he do that? He slowly glanced down. He had dropped his swords, and his arms were outstretched like he had reached out to push her. His eyes widened in both fear, and disbelief.


   It was magic.


   He used magic!


   The daemon picked herself up, her expression was composed, but her eyes were full of ire. She whipped her dark head at him. I don't understand what makes them think you can be useful, he heard her voice seethe in his head, filthy mortal! She spat blood from her mouth.


   She was angry. Very angry. She charged towards him, her hands raised to pummel him with everything she had, heedless of whatever orders she received to spare him. Hjalmar was surprised to see that he did not feel afraid. His body tingled, the sensation stemming off from his heart and pumping through his veins. As if his body had a mind of its own, it reacted before he could even process what was happening. She gave it everything she had, she aggressively swung her arms at him, deadly frames of magic followed. Apart from the occasional hit, he was blocking nearly all of them! She seemed exhausted, beads of sweat rolled down her face, her breaths were ragged. It wasn't surprising considering she had just been in a heated battle with Yaroslav, and now she was fighting an unexpected element. She was now on the defensive, parrying his blows and being forced back.


   But this meant she was like a cornered animal, and with a guttural scream, a burst of forceful wind knocked everything and everyone around the daemon a few feet away. Hjalmar stood up quickly after hitting the floor, but suddenly he felt the limitless vigor he once had before diminish, leaving him feeling like he was about to pass out. His vision darkened, and his knees buckled. Svetlana had mentioned the consequences of exerting too much magic. Did he push himself past the limits?


   The daemon slowly got to her feet, knowing she had outlasted her enemy. So she wasn't on the defensive because she had to be, Hjalmar thought to himself as he watched her lift her hand up for a final blow, she was waiting for me to exhaust myself. A dagger-shaped fragment of magic appeared above her hand, it took on a sinister look- inky black and cold. And it was aimed towards him. She drew back her hand and launched it at Hjalmar's heart.


   But the fragment never met its target.


   Somehow, Yaroslav managed to get on his feet despite his injuries, and dive in front at the last moment, taking the blow for the thief. The warrior fell to the ground, his body limp.


   "Yaroslav!" Hjalmar cried, crawling towards the fallen warrior. He turned his body over to find the man unconscious. The fragment had pierced straight through his upper abdomen ignoring the armor which covered it. Hjalmar gaped in horror as the wound was bubbling with black ooze, blood poured out staining the cloth of his tunic in a red blotch. The boy tried to move him to safety, but there was no strength in his limbs, he probably couldn't even pull himself to safety. He whipped his head up at the daemon, tears streaming down his cheeks. But he couldn't do anything.


   They were easy targets for the daemons now... and for her.
 
Making sure the Prince was safe behind the caravan, Aggie pulled her now shoulder length hair into a ponytail, her eyes flicking across the campground as the daemons screeched as they fought. Turning in a circle, her bare right foot created a circle around her, digging a small divot into the red sands. From there she began to slither around the caravan in a smooth motion, almost as if she was dancing. Her light sleeping gown swept around her legs as she created another circle, outside of the big circle around the caravan. Dropping to the ground she splayed her hands into the sand, making two arches around the circle she was in, speaking in an odd tongue. 



Suddenly she spat into one of the hand arches, a plume of teal fire shooting up from the lines she created. Hopefully this protection spell would buy anyone some time if the caravan was attacked. Hopefully nobody would break her lines too much in the scuffle...


Standing back up she brushed off her hands and stomped towards a deamon, curling her nose as it hissed towards her,"Small little she-elf can do some magic tricks. Cute cute." it crouched down, sweeping a hand in a sleek movement, its eyes fixed on Aggie's. For a moment or two they circled around eachother, waiting for the other to make a move. The daemon was the first to swipe. Taking out a crude knife, it lashed forward, catching her chest and making her cry out as red bloomed down her sternum. Clutching her chest, she stuck a finger in/towards the wound. It wasn't bad but bad enough for the sand under her to bead up with her precious blood. Dropping to her knees she held her chest and the other balled up in the sand. The Daemon laughed and tossed it's blade side to side, licking it's teeth with delight. It wasn't long before she shot the hand of sand up towards her mouth and blew it up at him, sparks and bits of glass shooting from her fingertips, greating glass shards that speckled the Daemon's chest. It reeled back and screeched in pain, falling back clutching at it's chest, attempting to pull the shards out. 


Aggie chuckled and regretted it, as her head swam with lightheaded,"O-ohhh.." clutching her head, she didn't see the Daemon standing up, pulling a long piece of glass from it's chest and crawling towards the small dark elf. Lifting it's arm, it went to bring it down on the back of her head before turning, as if hearing something off in the distance. 



A steady beat of paws came from the distance, huffing and puffing of a very large canine was prominent as Pippa jumped over a rock formation, landing squarely on the wounded Daemon, smothering it into the sands. Snarling loudly into the night, the smokey beast reached down with mighty tooth and claw on the Daemon's leg, simply tearing it off. Aggie looked up, slumping a bit more,"Pippa!" she smiled. 


The dog simply wagged his tail in reply as he continued to beat on the attacker, snarling and daring to injest some of the being.


Agitha reached up to touch her companion but fell over facefirst into the sand, cursing to herself as she tried to stand up as well. Pippa turned and nosed the woman up to her feet. / Come small one lets get you into that ring of your's/


/Did I do that right by the way?/


/Smells it. Though that big one could probably figure it out./ He looked towards the she-deamon as he nudged Aggie underneath the Caravan in which the others were taking heed on protecting. 


Leaning against the cart, she clutched her chest and exhaled, closing her eyes, hoping the Prince would not fret over her condition. 


Pippa on the other hand dashed off to go fight some more. 


@all 
 
Bo tried to make as much sense of the scene as he could in the firelight, even as he was occupied with wrestling and fighting with the incoming army of demons. He was taking them out one by one, reserving his energies since they just wouldn't. Stop. Coming. He was keeping an eye out for his comrades in the midst of the chaos, and it was then that he spotted the one demon that didn't seem to be doing much at all. She was simply observing - that is, until her eyes met with Yaroslav's. Between slashes at the daemons in his path, he caught glimpses of the fight that began to ensue, but as he saw the increasingly revealed power of the female daemon, he began to fight his way towards them with more vigor. He knew he was easily no match for her power, and he might be more a hindrance than a help, but he couldn't wait to see if someone else who was stronger or smarter would run to their aid. So he ran, his long legs leaping over the rocks and even leaping over a daemon here and there (more like stepping on them, but such things are only technicalities). He watched as Hjalmar fought with magic, and as Yaroslav fell. He didn't know that Hjalmar could use magic, and the sight of it brought up a dozen questions to mind, but he pushed aside.


He leapt out into the open, between the daemoness and the fallen Hjalmar and Yaroslav. He knew he couldn't just grab them and run away. She wouldn't just let him do that. But he also couldn't just fight her and let Yaroslav bleed out and die if no one else was able to come. I should've dragged someone else here to help me. But it's too late for that. So what he did next was impulsive at best.


He picked up Yaroslav and Hjalmar - this is ridiculous, I can't do this, they're too heavy altogether, I'll be too slow - he heaved them up in his arms - thank heaven for adrenaline - and he turned his head to the female daemon and blasted a stream of lightning from his mouth at her. Well, right in front of her. He didn't actually hit her, but he stopped her in her steps for a brief second while he booked it, feeling his arms and legs and whole body strain against the weight of the task.


@Lo Alyssa
 
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Oceana was busy shooting daemons out of the sky to notice the demoness' scuffle with Hjalmar. But a sudden silence in that direction drew her keen senses to focus there.


All she saw was the panicked figure over a large body with red hair, a pool of blood blooming on the grassy ground.


Aquamarine eyes widened and she froze.


"YARO!" 


She yanked another arrow onto her bow string and locked on to the serene figure of the female demon in the flickering light.


Teeth clenched painfully together she blinked back tears and fired. Just as Bo ran up and hoisted the two men into his grasp before shooting off a bolt of lightning.


She had no idea if the shot met its mark. The huntress was already running up to Bo and the two limp figures he held.


Two of her closest comrades in their little band. Perhaps in the entire world. 


"No...No. No. No. No!" She chanted fervently when they stopped running, trying desperately to stop the bleeding with her hands but knew it was no use.


Her thoughts spun back to their first hunt together; the easy way they talked and joked, their akin senses of honor and duty.


"This cannae be it!" She hissed at the rapidly paling countenance. "Donnae you dare die on me! You still have to teach me how to hunt bears!"


Oceana took harsh breaths through her teeth, fighting off the panic.


She wrenched deep inside herself, trying to push her life energy out from her hands and into Yaroslav's torn flesh.


"Mend the flesh! Mend the flesh dammit!" 


Still no magic came. Just like always.


The dam finally broke and the tears streamed forth.


"SVETLANAAA!" She wailed, an animal cry of desperation. "VALEIAAAH!"


She hysterically fumbled with her armor cloth and tore it off, stuffing it against the wound and pressing on it. She fiercely hoped that one of the others would reach them on time. She clung to that hope as tightly as she did to Yaroslav's hand.


@soundofmind @Lo Alyssa
 
Kacel'la cursed as she saw Yaroslav and Hjalmar get hurt, but they were quickly scooped up by Bo. However, she had to curse once more when Oceana ran towards the three, ignoring the demons which were sure to attack.


So Kacel'la followed, only moving faster, disappearing and reappearing more often as she made sure no creature got close as the group moved.


She was like a blur to others, there and gone too quick to truly follow. She was glad for it, as the scales which lined her cheeks and arms would look like nothing but a trick of firelight.


It was hard, to push herself to an extreme, without letting her dragon side take hold. She wanted to let it in: It would only help her in battle, make her dangerous, make her deadly. But she was afraid of it too, as the corrupted part of her only spoke louder with each splash of blood, asking for more bloodshed, tempting her to just abandon her swords and pounce forward with claws and fangs, let it out, let it take the once-shared controls humanity had usurped for a decade.


So she only gripped the wooden handles or her blades with such strength that her grasp threatened to break them, and she pushed herself to move faster, to think less except 'stab there', 'kick there', go there', as if she could reduce herself to a weapon without thought.


@OlKaJa77 @soundofmind @Lo Alyssa
 
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"Oceana!" Bo yelled at her over the noise, but not angrily, only to grab her attention. In her grabbing Yaroslav she'd slowed him down, and daemons were beginning to swarm in. Kacel'la had come to help them out but he knew she couldn't hold them off by herself. He also knew that Svetlana and Valeiah wouldn't be able to make their way over to them easily, especially since Svetlana was farther off protecting the wagons. He knew she'd want to tend to her grandson if she could. But he had to get him to her first, away from the daemons, where he could get help without as much interference.


"Help me get them to the healers." He spoke with authority, but his eyes were on their surroundings. He turned his head and breathed lightning at a daemon coming from their right. "We can't wait here!" He stood up, blasting another incoming daemon. He needed to run while he still could. "Cover me!" 


He lifted the two up again, ready to storm ahead at full speed until they met Valeiah or Svetlana. Whoever they reached first, honestly.


@OlKaJa77  @Lo Alyssa @L1d1ja
 
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Valeiah had grabbed out her dagger, holding the sharp blade tight in her hand as she slashed through daemons. Her knuckles were turning white with the effort.


She felt like this battle was going to end terribly wrong.


Her head whipped in the direction of screaming, someone calling for her. They needed help. "Alo, we need to get over there." Valeiah said frantically. Alo looked at her.


"You head over there. I'll watch your back."


@Lo Alyssa @soundofmind @OlKaJa77
 
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Oceana snapped out of her hysterics at the commanding tone in Bo's voice. She had never seen the laid back human talk that way but was grateful for it.


Normally it would have driven her into anger, to be ordered around by a human. But this was no time to break down or point fingers.


Bo knew it.


She knew it.


The tears had stopped. 


The huntress met his eyes with her own, her gaze burning like blue-green fire.


And nodded fiercely.


"Go. I'll cover you as best I can."


She dug her heel in and swiveled around, taking aim at any daemons swooping in for the kill.


She unlatched another pack of arrows from her hip and stuffed it into her quiver.


With each arrow she chanted a prayer, the soft words of elvish twining together as they rose to the heavens.


"Duana, Goddess of night, fill his soul with ambition and passion to stay in this world."


Her bowstring twanged another shot.



"Jakodi, Goddess of wisdom, fill his healer's soul with wisdom and fear so that they may mend his wounds efficiently."


The whisper grew fiercer and she shot down another demon.



"Lorcan, God of battle, please do not claim his soul yet. Please let justice be had, that pure hearts prevail intact."


She would not cry again. Yaroslav didn't need her tears to be healed. A demon fell at her feet, arrow deep in it's eye socket.


"Kenisha, Goddess of love, let the love people hold for him guide his soul to stay. Like a torch in the endless night."


She repeated it several times, fervently, but despite her own inner desperation her voice never wavered.


Soon she was out of arrows.


She shouldered her bow and drew her daggers, all the while repeating her prayer. She locked blades with a demon and promptly spun to slash its chest.


A dangerous glint was in her eye, and the demon took a step back, shrinking.


The muttered prayer became a battle cry.


And roaring like a wave, the elf crashed upon any demon daring to pass her.


@soundofmind
 
Valeiah, trying to make her way over to where she heard her name being screamed, hadn't been paying too well of attention to what was going on around her. Nothing was in front of her, so of course she assumed she was alright. That was until a daemon decided to use her small size against her and pull her down to the ground.


Valeiah struggled and kicked against the daemon's grasp, now having its hands squeezed around her throat. "Help!"


@ anyone around her
 
Garrett was quick to respond to a cry for help.


He ripped the demon off Valeiah, a swift bash of his shield sending its skull crumbling in. 


"Go." he said as he pulled the healer up. "I'll make sure none of them stand in your path." He added as he aimed a swing at another rushing demon.


@Danika
 
Lucasta's eyes shot open at the sound of her brother's cry. She grabbed the satchel, her sword and shield, and darted out of her tent. Her mouth dropped at the hell she just entered. Daemons were everywhere and everyone was already up and fighting. She glanced over the scene, looking for her brother but couldn't find him anywhere. 


In the desperate search for her brother, a daemon came up from behind her and made a move to attack. In an attempt to dodge the strike, the sword pierced her side. She yelped in pain and held up her shield to block another blow. The crimson blood poured from her wound and onto her night gown. She winced in pain as the daemon took no break from slashing at her shield. She gripped her sword tighter and right before the daemon swung again, she jabbed her sword though his neck and up his skull. He fell lifeless on the ground.


She turned her head again to see a small crowd surrounding Yaroslav, who laid on the ground with a hole in his chest. Lucasta brought her hand up to her mouth, and sobbed. She saw Valeiah running his way, she knew everything would turn out okay for him at least. She heard daemons behind her, and saw two of them approaching Foxrun and her Brother from behind. Her eyes widened and she sprung towards them. "Get away from them!" She screamed. Suddenly her satchel started to glow from the inside. A pale yellow color filled her eyes as she focused on the daemons in front of her. She rose her sword to hit them and--


She didn't need to.


They both dropped their weapons and screamed in pain. Both of their chests started to crack like glass, and the same yellow light shone from within them. The cracks started to spread throughout their body which caused the light to shine brighter. In a finale attempt to scream they both exploded, with only their remains in shards. Lucasta stood speechless.


@GalacticRam @Lo Alyssa
 
Parting her now torn sleeping gown to expose the slash on her chest, her breath getting quicker and more panicked. It would leave a nasty scar indeed. 


Touching at the wound lightly she inhaled quietly, twinging at the stings,"Hell..."



Leaning over, she took her knife and sliced off part of her gown off the hem and dabbed at the blood. It took her a moment to look over to the cries of distress, looking over and dread falling over her. Someone got hurt...


Surely they would be of more priority than her cut. Cleaning her cut up, she whimpered and exhaled. Looking towards her fingers as they started to heat up to a hot tip. Closing her eyes she stuck the finger onto the wound, whining as she makeshift cauterized the wound,"Ffuuuuuuaaaaaa."
 
Mirroring each step the boy made, Foxrun tried to look for his sister as well, shaking his head to the boys question, "I can not-", he was cut off by the sound of the princess now screaming. He spun in the direction, throwing an arm across the boy as one of the demons was nearly upon them. But just as he braced for the blow,the creature erupted with bright light. His gaze fell to the same light peeking from the bag Lucasta had. The crown did this?! and only then, did he notice the blood soaking into her dress. 


"We have to get to the wagons!" He shouted to the both of them. There was no time to stand, astonished at what just happened before him. He hurried the boy to his sister's side and took no time to lift her off the ground, knowing it likely would make her uncomfortable for a moment. "forgive me if this isn't the smoothest ride." He flashed a brief grin before making a bee-line to the caravans, right on lucas's heels, hoping they would make it with little trouble....


@Lo Alyssa@Queen of Fantasy
 
Hearing the call to run for the wagons, Oceana whipped around to see Foxrun running towards one with the princess in his arms and Lucas right behind him.


Her head flicked to the direction of where they had tied the horses and saw nothing but rocks and grass.


She cursed and slashed an approaching demon rather brutally across its collar bone.


There was a lull in the fighting and she took her chance.


The huntress let her daggers down and concentrated. She grit her teeth before allowing a pulse of feeling to ripple up her chest and held it in her throat.


But she knew it wouldn't be enough. 


She reached deeper, her awareness tickling a lock within. Forcing herself inwards she took a deep breath and stood still, like a tranquil tree in the wood.


Deeper, deeper still she dove into the waters of her being.


And yet she couldn't reach it, despite her efforts.


Another breath and deep exhale.


For Yaro


Something gave and the feeling in her chest overflowed. She felt through her feet the connection to the earth and from there swirls of light around her were set aglow in her mind's eye.


The flicker of green that was Svetlana. 


And the gold firefly nature of Kacel'la.


The twitching blue shimmer that was Bo.


All else was blocked out by darkness, swirling in the endless black expanse.


But still she felt them. Just over a small hill on the horizon.


The horses, who had run off into the night during the commotion. Thankfully they were trained well and had not run very far.


Almost as if releasing a sigh, she called to them, channeling the earnestness of her plea across the landscape. 


And with a twitch that she could almost see, they responded.


They felt her desperation and fear and fierceness and care...and they came thundering, back over the hill towards their broken camp.


Letting out a loud whoop, the elf ran between them and the wagons, sure to cut down any demons that would try to hamper their progress.


@GalacticRam
 
   Svetlana had been so focused on the entirety of the battle, her attention was spread thin, she hadn't realized there was a magic dual happening right beside her, nor that her grandson was apart of it. What caught her attention was a voice screaming Yaroslav's name, but by then it was too late. She felt her heart drop as she turned her head to see Bo and Oceana pulling her grandson's limp body towards the caravans in her direction. How did this happen? How could she not have seen what transpired? Cold sweat formed on her brow as she began to realize that her powers were waning. Not in this battle alone, but with each passing day, her strength diminished. Once she was young and powerful, and oh how she had fallen far since then. The woman grit her teeth as she continued her attack against the daemons. Regardless of her fallen kin, she couldn't leave the others to the daemons. She was about to swipe her arm at a daemon fighting one of her comrades, but she felt a large hand grasp her arm.


   She whipped her head to see who the hand belonged to. It was Ashlar. She was so wrapped up in the heat of combat, she had barely noticed he was defending her on the ground. "I'll hold the caravans." He said with firmness, "Go tend to Yaroslav, he needs you. I can handle it."


   Svetlana gave him a look of gratitude before nodding and hopping off the roof. No daemon was going to get in between her and her grandson. With quick motions of her hands, any daemon that dare stand in her way was incinerated into a pile of smoking ash. She covered the distance as fast as she could, going a speed she normally would not go. But her old aching body wouldn't get in her way either. She thanked the Dayar above that Oceana was protecting Bo, Hjalmar, and Yaroslav from the onslaught of daemons streaming their way.


   The old woman skidded to a stop and roughly landed next to Yaroslav. He was in bad shape. His body was covered in bruises that were caused by blunt hits from magic, the side of his face was a mix of red, yellow and purple already, some of the skin broken open from impact. She pressed her hand against his burning forehead, he was already running a fever and drenched in sweat. "Thank you, Bo." She said to the tall man who was hovering worriedly in anticipation. She could read the expression on his face, will he be alright? She didn't know how to answer that yet, and had no comforting words to offer. She then looked at the other figure next to him- Hjalmar. The boy's eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying, his skin paler than usual as if he had been drained of all strength. His lip was quivering as he fought to hold back tears and his body was shivering, and as he met the woman's gaze, he closed his eyes and turned away in what looked like shame.


   "What happened?" Svetlana asked him gently.


   He was silent for a moment and whimpered softly, "... It's... it's my fault," was all he managed to croak out.


   That wasn't much of an answer though, but Svetlana wouldn't press him for more. Instead, she looked back over Yaroslav's body to inspect it more, hoping to find the answers to her questions there. His injuries made it clear that he had been battling against someone with magic, and his drained face showed he had been using his own... too much. Yaroslav was known for his determination and unshakable resolve in battle. Many times he had been struck down with blows that should have killed him, but he would ignore the pain and get back up. This was different, much different. A tear escaped her eye as she looked upon the broken body before her. She wiped her tear away, and then noticed something-


   There was an another injury unique from the black bruises he had sustained. She must have been too wound up to notice it before. Touching is ever so gently, her hand covered her mouth as she realized what it was.


   It was a blight wound.


   "We can't heal this." She said out loud, her voice cracking, to the others but mainly to herself, "In fact, as long as this wound is open, I can not even heal these bruises either. Any attempt at healing his body with magic will cause the blight to spread. Once it reaches his heart, it will kill him." She added. But she could not tend to him until after the daemons had been dealt with. The caravans were surrounded, there was no way she could dash in, grab her herbs and concoctions, and get out without endangering herself and the others. She was about to get up and take care of things herself before a voice bellowed through the camp, amplified by magic.


   "Enough!" It shouted, and the daemons turned their heads to their female leader who was still standing calmly near the fire, any attacks that were made against her before didn't even leave a scratch. Yaroslav managed to rough her up a bit, but the results were hardly worth it. The daemons retreated behind her, obeying her command. Svetlana raised her hand at the others, beckoning them to stay where they were and not chase after them. She was relieved to see that Foxrun had Lucasta and Lucas with him, and he was heading towards the caravans.


   She turned her head to face the daemoness, wondering what her actions would be next. Would she retreat? What was she waiting for? It seemed as though she would leave them be for just a moment, but her arm whipped up suddenly. She eyed the group for a moment, the slightest smile on her face. With a twitch of her finger, a body flew out from their group and was viciously pulled towards her followed by a cry of alarm.


   It was Alo.


   The group watched in horror as he was snatched from the safety of their ranks and forced towards the she-daemon at uncanny speed. His cry was cut off as his chest was plunged into her extended hardened hand. She held him there for a moment, his feet uselessly dangling above the ground. He screamed again as her fist clenched around his heart, blood dripped to the grass underneath him staining it red. Over his gurgled cries she spoke lowly, "Consider this a warning, foolish mortals. Should you continue this empty quest, I will ensure this is the fate each of you shall suffer." With that, she twisted her arm and wrenched out his beating heart. He sputtered, blood poured from his lips, but then his eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed onto the floor- motionless and quiet... he was... gone.


   She still clutched the gory mass which used to be his heart in her hand, "This is not a game you can win," she said with warning in her voice. Her fist tightened, and the heart crumbled into ash, pouring next to his still body.


   Before anyone could respond, the she-daemon and her hoard vanished in wisps of black smoke, leaving charred earth where they once stood. An air of loss and utter defeat hung in the air, unspeakable sorrow left in their wake.


   The campsite was overcome with momentary silence of anguish.


   Alo was dead.


   This was no longer a game to their enemies, in their hearts they all knew this would only be the first of many to come...
 
Valeiah heard her brother's cry. It was loud– then gone.


Then it was silent.


Valeiah saw his body fall to the ground with a loud thud, blood spurting everywhere. She ran towards him, her ears ringing, her eyes filling with tears, shoving people out of the way, only seeing the lifeless corpse on the ground.


She collapsed to her knees in front of him, letting out a blood-curdling shriek, followed by loud sobs, cutting through the silence.


"Alo...!!" Valeiah screamed, her voice laced with pain. She started to frantically mutter in a different language– the one her people spoke– clutching onto him and trying to heal him.


Her hands were slick with blood after putting them on his chest once, and the comforting yellow light that emitted from them when she was healing someone didn't come. She couldn't heal him. He was dead.


Valeiah let out another shriek, tears stinging her eyes.


Alo was dead.
 
Dorian watched with muted shock as Alo was executed by the demon. The assassin was used to bloodshed and brutality, but the unexpected death still made him pause, unable to act.


He watched Valeiah run to her dead brother, and flinched at her scream. He bad seen something like this before, something where he was in her place, way back.


Instead of letting the memory take hold, he acted.


Dorian walked quietly to Valeiah's side, gently making her hands let go of the corpse's chest. Another of his hands was put around her shoulder to act as an anchor the girl could easily shrug off if she wanted.


The familiar stayed quiet. All he could say would be empty words and lies, and false comfort was worse than silence in his eyes.


@Danika
 
"Don't touch me– don't touch me!" Valeiah yelled, flinching at someone suddenly touching her. Just looking at her brother laying there made her sick. All the memories of the rest of her family lying in their own pools of blood, Alo joining in on the image.


She let out another loud cry, pressing her hands to her face. Her breathing sped up. She wanted to run away as far and as fast as she could, yet she didn't ever want to leave his side. Her heart broke thinking of one of her last thoughts about him. That she hated him. It only made her cry louder.


@L1d1ja
 
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Dorian nodded quietly before reaching over and passing his hand to close Alo's eyes to keep them from staring up at nothing.


A second later a hawk swooped back to perch on Garrett's shoulder.


@Danika


Away from the group, Kacel’la stood, frozen besides the caravan, gold slowly vanishing off her skin.


The battle was over, and, unfortunately, her ice-cold focus had cracked at the seams, shattered by the execution before her.


She barely had the time to steel herself before a loud ringing in started in her ears and she was forced to drop to the ground, clutching at her head, as the dragon she had locked away tried to break through, sensing weakness.
 
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Oceana froze as the demoness plunged her hand through Alo's chest.


An agonized silence fell in time with his body.


And then everything was once again chaos.


The huntress felt her body burn as Valeiah screamed and clutched her chest as the girl almost leapt on her brother's body, her hands pressing into his chest as she sobbed.


She felt the regret, pouring off of the healer as thickly as the grief.


It was like seeing a vision of herself from the past.


She remembered clutching her father's skull where the bone had been breached by an axe, his blood pooling about her knees.


There was nothing that could save him then, just as the huntress knew nothing could save Alo now.


The elf left Dorian to comfort Valeiah.


She strode over to Yaroslav's prone body and knelt next to him.


The huntress swept a glance down his body to take inventory of his wounds.


"There's nothing we can do for Alo." She said softly.


"But we still have to save Yaro."


She grimaced and pressed her armor skirt cloth against his wound again, trying to staunch the blood. 


And Algoran.


@ everyone?
 
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Lilith came running from behind the crowd, pushing her way through. Her eyes landed on Alo, and his sister who sat beside him crying. Her eyes too filled with tears. She ran over and knelt by his side, placing a hand on Valeiah's shoulder. She covered her mouth and sobbed quietly, tears streaming from her face.


"I wish I would've been here, Alo..." She whispered though sobs.


She glanced at Valeiah. "I wish I could have been here for you both..." 


@Danika
 
Foxrun's grip tightened on the princess as the scene continued to unfold. He was close enough to the caravans to hear someone uttering about helping Yaroslav. As he stepped up, he noticed the brutal shape the warrior was reduced to. His frown grew heavier, his entire body was tense from the emotions hanging in the air. It was suffocating. "Uh, the princess," he cleared his throat slightly as he set her on her feet, still helping her stand if needed. "She needs help as well." He knew the elder mage must be exhausted, and valeiah wasn't in any better shape. "I can lend my hands, however they may be of help. Or my energy?" Fending the daemons off no doubt was taxing on their energies, meanwhile his was filled to the brim. And then some. All the turmoil was feeding his own magic and beginning to become too much. 


@ anyone?? 
 
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