Lord Dion's Keep, the largest and most solid edifice in the city, had become one large infirmary. The Healers had spilled out from the solar room and now occupied the main Hall and all the available chambers. Injuries ranged from embedded arrowheads to truncated limbs, gaping abdominal wounds to Ryxxi clawmarks. Seeker, Guardsman and civilian alike lay stretched out on thin, blood soaked pallets. Despite the best efforts of the Healing staff, unsanitary conditions prevailed.

Without warning, the up until then steady flow of casualties slowed to a mere trickle, then stopped altogether. Startled out of their calm, methodical work by the lull, the Healers and their aides looked up and stared as one at the doors, wondering at the quiet.

A young man, panting from running countless messages and battle reports to and from the wall, broke through the press of wounded into the Main Hall.

"The spell worked! We're invulnerable!" He cheered tiredly. A ragged yell went up from the injured. Those who had the strength shoved their fists into the air, and were quickly subdued by their attendants.

The messenger picked his way deftly between the mats, dropping a few terse replies to murmured questions. He quickly scurried down one of the many passageways, heading towards the study with his news. The Captain would want to make the most of the window created by the invincibility.

The study was nearly empty. Another courier brushed by him as he entered, no doubt carrying instructions back to the walls. One of the Phantom Cats, shaded in tones of alabaster, paced anxiously along the hearth wall. The Captain sat behind the heavy desk, pushing aside maps and outdated reports to find the ones that remained relevant. Though the young man searched for any sign of the now-infamous Talisman, he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Sir," The messenger came to attention before the desk "It has been observed that our forces are no longer taking any damage from the Lantarian hosts. Lieutenant Bedforjd sent me to inform you that he and Lieutenant Galwyn have each lost roughly a fourth of their forces."

Marcs frowned at the city blueprint before him as he pondered the man's words. That was a sizeable chunk of their fighting men and women either dead or grievously wounded. To make matters worse, the only layouts he possessed of the city and the surrounding countryside were no longer accurate, thanks to the fire-bombing of recent days.

The Talisman, assimilated into his body during the ceremony, gave off a steady thrumming that vibrated throughout his entire body. It didn't seem to be weakening, but he had no idea how long that would last. The best he could do now was draw up an effective plan and pray that the invincibility held long enough for them to make a serious dent in Lantar's army.

Marcs stood from his seat, grabbed a slender stick of graphite and leaned over the map, sketching quickly. "How much of our forces would you say are still within the city Gates?" He asked.

"Perhaps...six hundred men and women, but at least two hundred of them are poorly armed civilians."

"And Lantar's men are still outside the city?"

"Yes sir."

Marcs nodded to himself and drew in a few dark lines. "Here's what I want you to tell my Lieutenants, as well as Lord Dion's officers. Dion himself should be down near the walls, so find him if you can. I want all our men and women to withdraw from the skirmish near the front Gates. They are to draw around to the sides of the city, here," He drew an X on the extreme right and left sides of the walls. "That message could probably best be relayed by Phantom Cat. I want the majority of our mounted archers and lancers contained within those two forces. Once they have managed to draw away, the soldiers, civilians, and whatnot still inside the Gates should make a straight charge through the Lantarian army directly outside, cutting them in half. I want all the mages that can be spared to be included in that charge; tell them the time has come to stop holding back on their battle spells, those townspeople are going to need every edge they can get, understood?"

The messenger nodded, rolled the map into a tube and quickly scurried back out into the hallways.

Hra'hiri looked up at Nemisa, safely hidden behind a candelabra on the mantle. ~He's quite impressive, isn't he? He's managed to deploy all of the different races to our best advantage.~ He remarked.

Nemisa nodded. I think we'd be in a world of hurt without him. The Archer knew what he was doing, coming to the Seekers for help at the beginning.

Hra'hiri rumbled in assent before turning his attention to informing all the Rh'ai Fhahris of the new strategy. The less time spent mobilizing, the better.

The order to withdraw to the sides came as a surprise to those still struggling outside the gates. It made little sense to most, but they had faith in the decision making skills of their superiors, and fell back. Lantar's men perceived this as a retreat, giving them clear access to the open Gate. Now the entrance to the city was protected only by the archers atop the walls.

Lieutenant Galwyn supervised the group at the left-hand wall. She quickly called her mounted lancers to the fore, sent the horse archers to the back, and set the contingent of footsoldiers between the two. She and Bedforjd had decided as soon as Marcs' orders had come that this would be the best arrangement to strike at the flanks of Lantar's army. He and Rydre were even now overseeing the force on the opposite side of the walls.

Galwyn looked down from atop her gray charger, her eyes meeting those of the marmalade Phantom Cat, D'lei. The large feline purred and put her whiskers forward in a smile. The entire attack depended mostly on the Cats to relay troop movements in time. Galwyn found herself liking D'lei and her proactive personality. The Cat's tail lashed, every line of her body taught and quivering in anticipation.

Not far behind her, Rh'ou crouched near Relin's hooves. The fur along his spine bristled on end. He looked nervously up at Nicky, who smiled reassuringly down at him. She remembered her first large battle, and sympathized completely.

~Lady, I...I can't kill those men~ Rh'ou confessed, ears flattening to his skull ~The demons yes, without hesitation, but not the men. I can't believe that they are all so utterly evil as to deserve death~

Nicky sighed and shifted her grip on her lance. I understand. She said softly. And I don't blame you. You didn't come here to kill strangers.

Not like me. She amended silently to herself.

Krystal had been recalled to wait within the city. She looked about her at the disorganized mob that was the last of the defending army and sighed. If they hadn't had the Talisman, this plan would have been suicide, plain and simple. She kept Cosca on a tight rein, preventing him from nipping at the already nervous townspeople. The six hundred of them waited for the Phantom Cats to give them the go ahead. Men and women in Seekers and Guard livery were slowly disappearing from the battle before the Gates, filtering back around the sides of the walls.

"D'lei says soon," Trestyn sidled his borrowed mount up to Cosca, his halberd held in a loose grip at his side. "They're almost all in place."

Krystal sheathed her sword and brushed her hair off her forehead. She wouldn't be needing it for what was to come. Her role would be that of the Mage, not the warrior.

"They had better be a little quicker about it," She said grimly. "The Talisman could run out on us at any time."

Trestyn nodded. "I know. But I believe these people would fight to the best of their ability, regardless. They are a very determined race, these Northerners," He looked forwards, toward the open Gates. There, at the head of the troops, Lord Dion sat astride his own warhorse. A heroic, if somewhat barbaric, figure in his mail and furs, he remained the very essence of calm, collected leader under the situation.

~Trestyn!~ D'lei's voice reached them both; in her excitement, her speech was less focused that usual, and touched several minds. ~We're assembled! Begin the charge!~

Lord Dion looked back at the mage and the Rh'ai Fhahris, apparently also hearing the Cat's message. He nodded once, lifted a horn from his saddlebow, and blew a single long, clear note upon it.

The men and women of the last reserves let out a cry to match that of the call. The surged forward from the city, lead by their Lord, aided by foreigners. Armored with the spell of invincibility, they clove a straight path through the ranks of the Lantarian host. As the last of them charged forth from the gates, the few men remaining behind the walls shut the Gates, denying their enemies entrance.

Lantar's men, surprised by the maneuver, automatically turned inwards to crush the thin line of warriors now caught in the middle. Though they could not kill the spell-protected Iritians, striking one with a weapon caused a momentary disorientation. Quite a few were knocked unconscious by the force of such blows and fell to the ground, unconscious but still alive. The invading Southern army pressed this advantage, sure they were finally on the verge of victory.

Two more horns pealed out their cries, and the troops that had previously 'retreated' came tearing in on either side, slamming into Lantar's army from the sides and behind. The lancers in the forefront ripped into the opposing soldiers, carving large chunks out of their ranks. The archers at the back fired over the heads of the lancers, while the footsoldiers moved forward. The tide had turned in the favor of the Northerners.

Lantar could only watch in disbelief as his army was beaten back from all sides by a ragtag band of mercenaries, guards, and ordinary people clumsily wielding their borrowed weaponry. It wasn't possible! As far as he could see, not a single one of them had fallen. They were laughing and cheering as they pressed ahead, battering his men and crushing them with ease.

"So, now you see why the theft of the Talisman concerned me so," A familiar voice said coldly. Lantar turned in his saddle, eyes narrowing at the Ryxxi Mage.

"Where the hell have you been all this time?!" The Baron growled. "Your vaunted 'Risen' soldiers were nothing against them! Now they lie in pieces, as will my army in short order!"

"Imbecile!" Kyrixliyl snapped. "Still you do not understand! The Talisman that was stolen from you months ago is in their hands! They have bent it to their will, put it to their purposes, and now use it against you!"

"Then stop them," Lantar growled, leaning over and grasping the collar the demon's robes. "You're an all-powerful mage, or so you say. Make yourself useful."

"I shall do just that," A very unpleasant reptilian smile stole across Kyrixliyl's face. His eyes fell closed, brow furrowing as he reached his clawed hands out before him. Somewhere within the city lay a creature, akin to him though she knew it not. In her weakened state, she could be controlled, and then it was only a matter of seeking out the current bearer of the Talisman.

Ryn had slept for days inside an abandoned slaughterhouse at the far north end of the city. She lay curled up in the sheltered livestock pens, recovering from her strenuous battle and debilitating wounds. Since falling into her slumber, she had not stirred, save the movement of her breathing.

Her tail gave a sudden twitch, her wings rustled and her eyelids flickered as though she dreamt a disturbing dream. Her delicately clawed 'hands' scrabbled against the straw beneath her. Without warning her sinuous body convulsed, twisting and knotting around itself. Dark energies invisible to the untrained eye wound about her, binding her to the will of a sinister puppeteer.

Slitted golden eyes snapped open. Ryn's great maw gaped wide, jets of flame dancing on her tongue. The roof of the slaughterhouse suddenly exploded into a sheet of fire, vats of animal fat sparking and exploding in the intense heat. Ryn spread her great membranous wings and allowed the rising air to lift her up. She pumped them to gain altitude, wheeling higher and higher until at last she hovered hundreds of feet above the city. Down below, even the soldiers had stopped fighting to stare in horror at the red glow of the flames, and the crimson Wyrm over head.

Ryn gave a tortured cry, for although her body was no longer her own, her mind screamed and beat against the binding spell. The scream echoed on and on in the air, even as her wings folded and she plummeted towards the Lord's Keep.

Nemisa suddenly screamed, pointing towards the small-paned windows in the study's far wall. Bloody light shone through, washing squares of the stone floor in gore. Hra'hiri jerked to his feet, just as Marcs took note of the phenomenon.

The building around them shook and shuddered as something incredibly huge slammed into the masonry. Mortar fell from the ceiling, showering them in choking dust. The roaring noise of stone tearing apart at the seams filled their ears as the Hall came down.

Hra'hiri leapt towards Marcs, struggling to reach him and teleport away before the entire roof caved in.

Support beams dropped from overhead, their weight ripping them loose and sending them crashing through the floor. Hra'hiri twisted to avoid them, his claws scratching shallow grooves in the stone as he scrabbled to a halt. Nemisa hunkered down in the cold fireplace, her arms thrown over her head. More rubble rained down from above. Hra'hiri stayed crouched low down, looking around wildly for any sign of the Captain, but he saw nothing.

Something let out a deep bellow. The remains of the roof gave way, crashing into the study in a stormcloud of dust. Ruby scales flashed dimly through the haze. Nemisa coughed and knuckled at her watering eyes. A warm breeze, smelling faintly of ash and burnt meat, puffed against her face. The air cleared enough for her to make out an immense nostril, large enough for her to crawl inside, perhaps a foot from her face.

"Aiiiieee!!" She shrieked, both hands flying to her mouth. "Ryn!"

Hra'hiri stood from his crouch, shaking himself vigorously to dislodge the dust from his fur. He leapt atop one of the fallen support beams and found himself standing beside one crumpled wing.

~Sky Lady?~ The Phantom Cat nosed at the joint of the wing. It shifted, but flopped back down at a distinctly awkward angle.

"Hra'hiri? Is she alright?" Nemisa climbed upon the Wyrm's snout, crawling on her hands and knees towards the eyes.

~She still breathes~ Came the grim reply. ~Anymore than that I cannot tell.~ He squirmed beneath Ryn's still body, wriggling towards the desk where the Captain had last been seen. It lay now in ruins, crushed beneath a slab of slate roofing. The Cat grappled with the chunk of stone, wrestling it away as best he could without the advantage of opposable thumbs.

Marcs' head and shoulders became visible as it slid away. Hra'hiri set his face close to the human's, feeling a soft breath stirring his whiskers. But too soft, at extremely erratic intervals. His ears flattened back against his skull.

Nemisa fluttered up beside him. "Is he alright?" She asked anxiously.

~I fear he is badly injured.~ Hra'hiri crept back a pace to avoid shifting any more debris onto the Captain.

"Can't you teleport him to the someone who could help?!" Nemisa demanded, wringing her hands together.

~The Healers were located in the Hall below. If the Keep is collapsing, they might also be hurt. And besides,~ Hra'hiri's tail lashed in frustration ~if I take the chance of moving him, I may only inflict more damage. Perhaps even paralyze him, if there is a spinal injury.~

Nemisa dodged back and forth in the air, biting at her tiny nails. "I can't heal anything like that! Just restore, revitalize! We need a real Healer to come here!"

Hra'hiri straightened up, gathering himself for a teleport. ~Then do what you can for them until I return with help~

The Waeld girl nodded dazedly, alighting upon Ryn's scaly back, already beginning to glow faint silver as he disappeared.

Ringing silence hung disturbingly heavy on the air. Nemisa set her hands lightly upon the Captain's temples, but snatched them back as something crackled like lightning across the surface of his skin. She rocked back on her heels, moth agape in shock and surprise. The light of the spell she herself had tied onto him grew brighter and brighter, then dispersed in a sudden explosion of golden particles that burst forth from Marcs' body.

"...Oh no." Nemisa squeaked, both hands covering her mouth. "The Talisman!"

The field outside the gates sparked and flared with battle spells. The Mages of the Seekers and guard fought from within the ranks of the townspeople, wielding their magic amidst Lantar's men like so many scythes cutting through wheat. Foremost among them was Krystal, still seated atop her violent warhorse. Her hands glowed too bright to look upon; the light reflected off of her thin plate armor, making it difficult for any archer to gaze at her long enough to target, and she was never in one place for very long.

The light surrounding her faltered for a moment. Krystal looked wildly about her, sensing a familiar, unwelcome, power nearby. She knew it, had felt it during the first attack on the city, and again with Lucida had manifested. The demon mage, weaving another destructive spell.

Not this time. She thought grimly, wheeling Cosca in the direction of the power sure. He was a truly arrogant mage, not to attempt to shield his work.

He stood on the edge of the abandoned Lantariant camp, swathed in a tattered, blood-soaked hooded cloak, his arms raised over his head. It seemed similar to a summoning stance, and yet different; more as commanding than calling.

"Come on you damn horse!" She grunted, urging Cosca on through the press of men and mounts. "If you ever planned on cooperating with me, now would be the time!"

Cosca blew out a lung-full of air, bunched up his haunches and lunged forward. Krystal bent over his shoulders, hands low and wide on his neck, giving him the rein needed to reach his fastest speeds. Krystal drew her sword, the steely whisper strangely loud over the din. The length of the blade lit up in emerald and gold flame, shining upon her armor like sunlight through leaves.

A thunderous crash, followed by an earsplitting roar, rent the air. A dark shadow loomed over the armies, shrieking and pummeling the air with torn and ragged wings. The warriors on both sides stopped and stared upwards, a chill striking every heart, freezing limbs in place. The sky no longer held the steely gray hue of winter, but rather was lit from horizon to horizon by Wyrm fire. Krystal fought with Cosca, somehow remaining in her saddle as she took in the spectacle. Rage flared in her eyes, a snarl twisted her lips. Her head snapped around, gaze locking once again onto the enemy mage.

"You will die this day, demon," She swore under her breath, digging her heels deep into her horse's flanks. "I promise you this."

Kyrixliyl looked up, snakelike eyes fixating on the mage. He bared needle sharp teeth in a frighteningly white grin, dropping one hand to curl a finger towards her, beckoning and taunting all at once. Krystal mutely accepted the challenge, bracing her weight behind her sword as Cosca bore down on the Ryxxi.

The demon flowed nimbly to the side as she grew near, almost seeming not to move at all as he deftly evaded her strike. The warhorse galloped on, carried forward by momentum. Kyrixliyl flung one spread-fingered hand towards the horse and rider, a web of shadow flying from his palm. It tangled around Cosca's hooves and hocks, sending him crashing to the ground with a squeal of pain, surprise and dismay.

Krystal kicked loose from the saddle, still gripping her sword as she rolled free of the downed horse. She flicked her eyes toward the ensnaring web, dispelling it with a brief touch of power. She then left Cosca to struggle to his knees, striding forward to face the Ryxxi mage. No trace of emotion or thought crossed behind her eyes, or showed in her pale face. The light from her sword threw eerie shadows across her cheekbones, throwing her eyes into darkness. Sparks of faint green shone from within, dancing momentarily within the pupils as she closed the distance between them.

"So," Kyrixliyl said at last, as they stood facing one another. "I've frequently wondered, these past few days, as to the identity of my opponent."

"I've known all along what you are," Krystal said flatly. "And I have no interest in trading words with you. Whoever you have been manipulating, whatever your plot was, all ends here now."

Kryixliyl laughed, forked tongue darting out to sample the air, scent what she truly felt. "Do you think me as ignorant as your fellows? I know what you are, Waeld child. I tasted the reek of your ancestry long before we met. And I have a score to settle with your kind."

The shadow disappeared from the sky, the ground beneath their feet shook, and a great cry went up from defender and attacker alike as Ryn plummeted into the Keep. The Northern army's gasps turned to shouts of surprise as they realized that they were no longer invulnerable. The remaining Lantarian troops quickly regrouped and pressed forward to take advantage.

The demon's laughter grew mocking. "Even now your forces fail. You cannot hope to triumph against the Ryxxi. We have had enough of living in a shadow world; we desire to claim this one as our own once again!"

"Enough of your boasting!" Krystal lunged forward, her sword licking out in an arc of liquid steel. Kyrixliyl took a short jump back, ducking down as the slash whistled overhead. He dove forward beneath it, arms out before him, claws spread to rend and tear. They hit on the metal of her breastplate, scrabbling for purchase like spiders sliding down glass. Krystal rocked backwards, thrown off balance by his weight. He was too close for her to utilize her sword, but her left hand remained free to maneuver. She thrust it upwards, her fingers closing around the underside of the Ryxxi's right arm.

Blazing gold light burst forth, the glow of it traveling down from her shoulder to emerge through her palm and fingertips. Kyrixliyl shrieked in pain as the protective overlapping scales were peeled away by the blast. Blood pumped forth from the major artery in the shoulder, soaking the ground underfoot. He wrenched away from her grasp, lashing out with his tail as he pivoted. It caught her in the back of the knees, knocking her feet out from beneath her.

The Ryxxi mage backed away quickly, growling harsh sibilants and curling both hands into fearsome weapons. The blood running down his arm began to glow a deep, corrupted crimson, pulsating like the heart of a coal.

Krystal pushed herself back to her feet, only to be struck by the spell he hurled towards her. It threw her to her knees, enveloping her in a sphere of interwoven jags of writhing black lightning. She arched her back and screamed at the pain, her hands rising to clutch vainly at the bars of magic. They glared up suddenly red, scoring deep burns into her palms. Her screams grew louder as the spell raced through her veins, scorching her from the inside out.

Kyrixliyl advanced towards her, his good arm drawn back to strike. A brief glint of light flickered on the edge of his vision for a split second before blinding agony blazed to life in the left side of his face. He staggered forward, groping blindly with his bloodied hand, the other grasping at the shaft of the arrow protruding from his left eye socket.

"Gotcha you scaly bastard!" A feminine voice exulted. Vul quickly slung her bow over her shoulder, knowing that her arrows alone did not possess the force needed to punch through the demon's natural armor. She drew her short sword and smacked the flat of the blade against Sithi's flank, startling the mare into springing forward. She quickly switched the sword into her left hand, raising it up and bringing the pommel down hard on the Ryxxi mage's skull as they thundered past.

The pain left Krystal's body for a scant second, but it was enough. A sphere of green blossomed into being around her, pushing back against the crackling spell of blood and magic. The bars of her cage burst into a million fragments of shadow, leaving her standing within a shining shield.

Kyrixliyl sagged on his feet, squinting painfully at them through his remaining eye. He had suddenly been put at a disadvantage, and struggled to find a way to compensate. He could hear the halfling turning her horse around for another pass.

The air behind the human mage shimmered and split as Hra'hiri materialized into being. He turned towards Krystal, pupils dilated to dark pools rimmed by gold.

~*Lady! Your Captain has been grievously injured! Your skills are needed now!*~

Krystal looked back and forth between the Cat and the demon, panting heavily. Her eyes moved then to Vul, sitting atop Sithi at the edge of the tableau. All the fur on Hra'hiri's body abruptly stood on end, his head swiveling to growl threateningly at the demon.

~*Have no worries. I will take you to him, and return to finish what you have started.*~

Vul nodded to her, eyes dark with worry for Marcs. Krystal nodded once in return, reaching out to grasp the bristling hair along the scruff of the Cat's neck. They blinked out of view, leaving the halfling and the demon in their place. Vul strung another bow, training towards Kyrixliyl's second eye. He turned to face her, the blood on his hands still pulsing with perverted magics.

"You can try it, but I'm willing to stake my life that my arrow gets your eye first," Vul said grimly.

"Not if there's no archer to fire it," A deep male voice growled from behind. The hair on the back of her neck rose; she had heard that voice once before, from a rooftop in Enstratol.

The archer desperately hurled herself from the saddle, the sharp whistling of a blade passing directly over her head loud in her ears. A few strands of brown hair drifted down to the ground even as she rolled into a ball to cushion the landing. She came up on one knee, her bow and most of the arrows in her quiver scattered. Sithi bolted away, joining Cosca in relative safety a little ways away.

Amused brown eyes stared down at her, framed by slightly disheveled brown hair. Vul gulped, not at the features, but rather at the point of a sword four inches from her nose.

"Lantar..." She murmured, now having a face to go along with the voice.

He appeared to be puzzled, but shrugged it away. "I'm sure we've never met before, but it is of no matter. Your life ends now anyway." He drew back his arm slightly to drive the sword between her eyes.

Something large, white, and apparently heavy hit him from behind, knocking him out of his saddle and pinning him to the ground. Hra'hiri took only a moment to sniff in the man's scent before using his chest as a springboard to leap towards Kyrixliyl. The demon hissed in sheer hatred at the sight of his age-old nemesis. He wrenched the arrow from his eye and flicked it towards the Cat, who ducked nimbly to the side and tackled the Ryxxi. All magic forgotten, the reptilian demon fought with animalistic fury, ripping and tearing at the Phantom Cat. They rolled around on the ground, claws and jaws severing chunks of skin and flesh. It seemed the Ryxxi's armored hide was no match against Hra'hiri's wicked claws. The Cat let out a throaty yowl, seeking to rip out the demon's throat but succeeding only in sinking his fangs into the already injured shoulder. Kyrixliyl scraped his talons along the Cat's ribs, matting the ivory pelt with obscenely bright red, but he could not manage to dislodge the furious Rh'ai Fhahris.

Vul shook off her shock at the ferocity of the fight, freeing her short sword from its scabbard and lunged at Lantar. The Baron barely managed to draw his own sword in enough time to deflect her attack slightly to the side. The tip of her sword pierced his armor near the hip, shoving him back and soaking his thigh in blood. Lantar twisted his blade upwards, pulling the short sword from his body. They stood toe-to-toe for a moment, weapons locked together, before Vul was forced back by the human's greater weight and muscle mass. He knocked her to the side, the edge of his blade drawing a thin line of blood down her wrist as they disengaged. She hissed in pain and ducked under his slash as he drew the sword back. She dropped quickly to one knee, pivoting on it and swinging her other foot into his ankle. The impact of her metal-toed boot caused his knee to buckle and his guard to drop. Vul used the momentum of her spin to rise back to her feet, her back to his front. She took a quick step backwards and rammed her elbow into the joint of his shoulder and sword-arm, conveniently at her own shoulder level.

His sword hit the ground with a heavy metallic thunk, his arm now numb from the collarbone down. Before Vul could turn and take advantage of his weaponless state, his other arm clamped around her neck, pinning her shoulders back against his armored chest. Her feet left the ground, kicking helplessly at the air as she clutched at his gauntlet, struggling to draw air into her lungs. Lantar shook the feeling back into his numbed sword hand and reached around to take hold of the hilt of her short sword. His large hand completely enveloped the halfling's smaller one. He crushed it between his plated fingers and twisted deftly to the side, snapping her wrist and confiscating her weapon all in one maneuver.

Vul let out a howl with all the air she had left. Her vision swum with tears of pain; her entire right hand now little more than a bloody pulp of shattered bone, torn muscle and tendons. Lantar tossed her to the ground, watching as she fought to get back to her feet. Dizzied from lack of oxygen and crazed by pain, she couldn't seem to manage it.

Lantar laughed wildly, setting his foot onto her back and pushing her back down. He kicked her viciously in the ribs, drawing a groan from the halfling. Ribs crunched and broke beneath the impact, despite the light armor she wore.

Hra'hiri was in no position to help; maddened by battle frenzy, he now fought as little more than an animal. His claws had long ago been worn to bloody stubs on the tough Ryxxi scales. Long, jagged wounds caused by Kyrixliyl still bled sluggishly as he sought only to rip out his enemy's throat.

The Ryxxi gathered his strength together and shoved Hra'hiri away with one final effort. The Cat managed to stay on his paws, but barely. He crouched down, tail lashing, waiting for an opening. Kyrixliyl climbed slowly to his own two feet, clutching the mortal wound in his shoulder. His head spun from all the blood he had shed, his robe had been reduced to mere strips of reddened cloth, though blood still ran down his legs beneath it. His tail was now little more than a stump protruding from the base of his spine.

His options were severely limited. He had wasted most of his magical energy earlier, first with the wall of shadow, which had proved to be useless, and then later possessing the Wyrm. To make matters worse, the last dregs of his power had been expended fighting that whelp of a Waeld mage. To cast another spell would mean his life.

A wild grin split his reptilian face. And what of it? At least he would be taking one of his most hated enemies with him. There would be others to continue the efforts to rip down the Barrier. He was expendable, and had always known as much. This way, he could even take the presumptuous Baron, no, entire armies, into the darkness with him.

A whirlwind picked up around the demon mage, snatching dust, blades of grass and small stones from the ground, obscuring him behind a wall of debris. Storm clouds gathered low overhead, glowing red from the firey light of the sky behind them. The cyclone swept over the entire battlefield, lifting fallen weapons and bodies from the ground and pelting the living soldiers with them. Many men and women were hurled into the walls at such speeds that they left little more than a crimson smear upon the stonework.

Hra'hiri hunkered down to the ground, digging his claws into the turf to hold himself down. He glanced over at the Baron and the archer. Lantar didn't seem to notice the spell at all, so engrossed was he in his torment of the Seeker. The storm wasn't quite so strong closer to Kyrixliyl, as though they stood in the eye of the storm. He crept forward, struggling to make headway against the winds and reach the demon.

Across the battlefield, Nicky bent low over Relin's neck, her eyes squinted shut against the gale force winds. Rh'ou crouched behind the horse, seeking some shelter.

~*What could be causing this?!*~ He shouted into her mind, though even that form of communication seemed to be slightly muffled by the gusts.

A spell! That mage! I don't know! Nicky tried to send back, but her mind was racing in frantic circles. All fighting had ceased; all anyone was concerned with was finding something to hold on to. Nicky raised her face away from the comforting warmth of Relin's neck and peered towards what remained of the enemy camp. From such a distance, she could only barely make out four tiny figures. Two were obviously recognizable as non-human.

Rh'ou looked up at the anxious young woman, his ears flattened to his skull in fear. ~*How do you mean?*~

Teleport us! It's the only way! Now, before we're blown away by whatever spell this is! She urged him.

Rh'ou hesitated a moment, then leapt up onto Relin's haunches, startling the poor animal even further. Nicky twisted around in her saddle and threw her arms around the Cat's neck, preparing herself for an unknown experience.

The world blacked out, replaced by a void with no clear top or bottom, or any real sense of direction. There were no sensations to register or sights to see though at the same moment she felt as though she had no eyelids, and so saw more than she ever had in all her life. The future spread away in an endless river of possibilities that both shone and was too dark too see.

Reality snapped back into focus with a jolt. Nicky stayed frozen in her position, face buried in the fur of Rh'ou's shoulder.

~*LADY!*~ His voice was so frantic she ripped away and looked around. Rh'ou bounded down from Relin's back and attempted to run towards a badly wounded Hra'hiri. Nicky had eyes only for the tall, brown haired man driving his foot into Vul's ribcage over and over again. Rage bubbled inside of her, driving her to slam her heels into Relin's sides, something she had never before done. The gelding leapt forward, startled and confused by the entire situation.

Vul lay curled on the ground, her arms held over her head in order to offer her face some feeble protection. The blows were coming at regular intervals now, leaving spaces for less mind-blowing pain between. Lantar was laughing insanely, loud enough to be heard over the storm. It went on and on, never pausing for breath. Vul pulled her arms away enough to see the terrifying sight of a human being twisted by complete and utter madness.

The laugh ended with a surprised sort of choke. The pain was clearing just enough for Vul to notice the end of a long knife protruding from just below the left side of his collarbone.

Nicky leaned over Relin's side, driving all her weight behind the blow. "Think that's funny, do you?" She grit her teeth and twisted the knife spitefully, taking a malicious sort of glee in the groan of pain issuing from the Baron's lips. She released her right hand from the hilt of the knife and slammed it as a fist into the side of his head. He slumped sideways to the ground, Vul's short sword dropping from his hand. Nicky slid quickly off Relin's back, going to her knees beside her fallen friend.

"Oh Sweet Lady, this can't be happening..." She whimpered, taking in the severity of the injuries. Her hair whipped around her face as she bent over Vul, shifting the archer's head into her lap.

Vul coughed painfully, flecks of blood dotting her lips. The wind drew beads of moisture from her eyes, but she was far too wracked with pain to reach up and brush them away. She just leaned her head back against Nicky's hip, too tired to do more than lay there.

"Hey..." She rasped hoarsely. "This...feels familiar."

Nicky stared at her, remembering when she had first used the Talisman in the Atcer forest an eternity gone. When Vul had almost died before. But now Krystal was gone, to where she didn't know, maybe even dead herself, and the world was being ripped apart by howling winds. She bowed her head, bending over the archer in an effort to shield some of the pelting debris. Tears ran down her cheeks but were snatched away in an instant.

Kyrixliyl laughed, loud and long. He drank in the suffering of the Phantom Cats before him, of the two women off to his right, of the thousands of men and women now completely at his mercy. Bits and pieces of his flesh were being torn away as he wove his spell, ripped from his bones by the very cyclone he created.

"You will all be blown away into the shadows as I go!" He exulted, laughing madly as huge chunks of earth were torn up from the ground underfoot.

Hra'hiri raised his head, gathering himself together for one final leap. ~*As a servant of the Lady Fhahris, do you really think I would allow that?!*~

Rh'ou straightened up, eyes going wide as he read what his mentor meant to do. ~*NO!! Hra'hiri!! Master!! You can't!*~

~*I can and I shall.*~ He looked over his shoulder at his protege, whiskers going forward in a small smile. ~*Tell L'rah, would you? I want her to remember our story.*~

Rh'ou dived forward as if to stop him just as Hra'hiri launched himself into the heart of the demon's spell. His ivory fur took on a pearlescent gleam as he penetrated the wall of wind, stone, and earth. It was impossible for the three onlookers to make out much beyond that barrier, but they could faintly make out two figures struggling at the heart of the tornado. Hra'hiri's light shone like a star through the dust, rays of silver light piercing it and shining so far as the walls of the city. A combined roar and screech echoed from the center of the tornado, and the rays grew to become one all-encompassing light.

But the winds did not stop. Rather, they seemed to be inverting on themselves. Nicky clutched Vul close, screwing her eyes shut against the flying dirt. It abraded her bare skin, scratching it raw and bleeding until she thought it might rip her eyelids away. Then someone else was there, blocking off the blast. She looked up in surprise, mouth falling open as Vithran kneeled between the two of them and the source of the gale. He leaned forward over his half-sister, grasping her good hand between both of his. Vul opened her eyes, blinked groggily, and actually managed a faint smirk. Vithran returned the grin, his lips quirking up at the ends as he threw an arm around Nicky's shoulders and hauled her down to the ground.

Krystal bent over Marcs' body, her burned hands pulsing green and silver. Nemisa sat upon her shoulder, feeding her all the energy she possessed. Ryn's body lay deathly still around them, no longer shifting as it drew breath. The entire chamber echoed with silence, but the inside of Krystal's head rang with the force of the spell being cast outside. She focussed on her task; the healing was taking all she had left to give.

"Gods Damn you to Hell Marcs," She growled "If the rest of us have to live in a demon's world, then you will too, so help me!" Broken bones and crushed organs sealed at her direction. The heavy stones themselves disintegrated into powder at her touch, no longer causing any damage.

Nemisa was beginning to wilt. She had no more power to feed into the mage. Her eyes shone with tears barely held in check; she was unused to death at all, and now found herself hemmed in on all sides by it.

Krystal gave a sudden jerk, the light around her hands dying out as she went rigid and stared at the wall in the direction of the battle. Something was happening...a foreign, unknown power was combining with the darkness of the Ryxxi's spell, warping it, changing it, redirecting its purpose. The demon's spell signature winked out of existence entirely. An unearthly shriek echoed throughout the walls of the ruined keep.

The sudden absence of the spell caster caused the spell itself to collapse in on itself, in much the same manner as a dying star falling in around it's hollow center. As the last of the winds reached the focal point of the spell, a tremendous howling battered at the ears of everyone present. There came a loud groaning noise, as if the earth itself was in pain. A whirlwind rose from the ground where Kyrixliyl had been standing, reaching upwards to touch the heavens themselves. Its anchor left the ground, spiraling up towards the stars, vanishing from view.

Dead silence hung over the battlefield. Northerner, Southerner and Mercenary alike stared at one another, surprised to even be alive. No one even considered picking up the weapons they had discarded. Something immense had just happened, and no one had the slightest idea what it might have been.

Vithran pulled slowly away from the two women, blinking sand from his eyes. He glanced over at Nicky, who coughed and knuckled at her own eyes. Vul lay still and unmoving in her lap. She gave a little cry and seized the halfling by the shoulders, shaking her.

"Vul? Vul! Don't you dare! You can't, do you hear me?! I won't let you!" Tears coursed openly down her cheeks, cutting shining paths through the grime that smeared them. She folded her arms over Vul's chest and set her head in them, sobbing uncontrollably.

From behind them all came a soft keening sound. Vithran turned away from the grieving woman to see Rh'ou standing over the motionless form of Hra'hiri. His head was raised to the sky as he cried in the way that only a Cat could, an eerie cross between a yowl and a wail. It rose in volume, seeming as though it originated from the sky above rather than one small feline.

The air rippled off to his left. An empty space of ground found itself occupied by a very surprised Krystal. Nemisa clung frantically to the sleeve of her shirt, pale and shocked.

"...I've about had it with these sudden twists," Krystal snapped, looking up from Marcs and around herself. She first noticed Rh'ou, a grief stricken sentinel standing guard over the body of his fallen elder. His wailing almost blocked out the softer noise of human sobbing. Krystal twisted around, her lavender eyes meeting blue. Vithran shook his head sadly and redirected his gaze to the ground.

There were perhaps five feet between her and the two other members of their little trio. She reached over to Nicky, rocking up onto her knees in order to span the distance. Her fingers brushed wild auburn hair, fell to Vul's chest, and stopped there. Her hand clenched into a fist as she bowed her head, her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth grit as her throat closed around a cry. Nemisa climbed up to her shoulder, gossamer wings drooping listlessly down her back. She wanted to drop down to the archer's body and kick at it until Vul moved again, but knew such an impulse to be pointless.

"So much, too much, death..." She whispered quietly, hugging herself. A hot breeze stirred the hem of her skirt around her knees, tugging at the clothing of the others and rustling through their hair. Nemisa felt the sound of Rh'ou's keening rise in her ears, causing the small bones behind her eardrums to vibrate. She lifted her head skyward, surprised at the resonance. She alone noticed the three streaks of light hurtling towards the ground.

"L-lady mage..." She hissed urgently, tugging at Krystal's collar. "Lady Mage!"

"Nemisa just...just don't," Krystal brushed her away, ignoring the now frantic tugs.

A hand closed around her shoulder, long, callused fingers squeezing lightly. Krystal blinked in surprise and leaned her head back. Large gray eyes, the pupils spinning with the light of galaxies, smiled down at her. The Archer reached past the stunned mage and equally thunderstruck elf to gently tilt Nicky's face up by the chin.

"I'm thinking there's no need now for those tears," He almost seemed to chuckle, although his deep eyes held an unfathomable sadness. "I created the elven race. I think I can repair one broken body."

"Y-you would do that?" Nicky drug a gloved hand across her eyes, blinking rapidly to banish the tears.

"Can You do that?!" Nemisa piped up, her wings lifting a little as hope set in.

"You would be surprised how much leeway We have to work with now," A quiet female voice replied for Him. A soft silver light fell over Vul's still face as Lady Lucida stepped up beside Nicky. The young woman stared incredulously up into the face of her Goddess, finding herself lost within pupilless silver eyes. Lucida smiled fondly down at her, setting a hand atop the girl's head. "By daring to imprison Me, yon demon shattered every Rule in existence. If not for the brave actions of Fhahris' servant, all might have been lost."

"Hra'hiri..." Krystal said softly, looking past the archer to the fallen Cat. Rh'ou was no longer alone at Hra'hiri's side. Now a tall figure, ebon-skinned and lean limbed, stood with him. Her face was difficult to discern; now that of an angular featured warrior woman, and now seeming entirely feline. A tail lashed the air behind her, and in one clawed hand she held a halberd similar to Trestyn's.

"Is that..?" Nicky stared openly, recalling a statue she had seen once in the treasury room of the Sanctuary. Rh'ou had been with her then, and had explained the figure to be his Goddess.

"Lady Fhahris!" Nemisa exulted, springing off Krystal's shoulder to hover in the air. "Perhaps she can restore Hra'hiri!"

"No." The Archer said flatly, not looking up from his work. "We cannot revive the dead. It is beyond even Our power to do so. What I am attempting is to hold this girl's soul within her body while I heal it, for she was never entirely deceased."

"Besides," Lucida added in her gentle voice, "Hra'hiri willingly sacrificed his soul to stop the destructive power of Kyrixliyl's last spell. He invoked the power of his Goddess, as was his right as her Eye, and vanquished the demon as was his duty as a Rh'ai Fhahris. His soul is beyond even My grasp."

Fhahris now knelt beside Hra'hiri's body, scooping it up into Her powerful arms. She gazed almost tenderly upon the Cat's motionless form. Rh'ou stared up at Her, both dazed at the proximity of his Goddess, and heartbroken that not even She could revive his beloved friend and mentor. The catlike Goddess strode towards the small group, her long legs eating up the ground in a few steps. She came to a halt beside Lucida, towering a good ten inches over the silver deity. Seen up close, they were such radical opposites it was difficult to believe they worked so closely together. Fhahris' seemed to be carved from obsidian; her dark frame held whipcord muscle over bone. She wore little other than knee-high greaves, gauntlets that reached her elbows, a breastplate, and a breechcloth. Her feline ears were in constant motion, swiveling back and forth for signs of ambush. She was utterly warlike. Lucida, however, seemed a statue molded from pliable silver. She wore a long, ivory robe over a body that curved in a feminine manner. Her unbound hair reached to her waist, and she held no weapons.

"Archer," Fhahris said shortly, her voice raspy as though it was drug over sandpaper on its way up her throat. "We cannot remain in this plane long."

"I'm aware of that Fhahris," The Archer said with the patience of a man long surrounded only by women.

"Let Me help," Lucida sank to her knees, her robe falling in graceful folds around her as she reached over to set a glittering finger against Vul's temple. She smiled and spread her other hand over the Archer's, twining their fingers together. Fhahris rolled her eyes and shifted her weight impatiently.

Vul's eyelids flickered open, her eyes darting back and forth between the many faces, strange and familiar, hovering above her.

"WAAAAH!" She yelped, pushing herself up and scooting backwards. "What in the hells is THAT?!" A shaky finger jabbed towards Fhahris.

Krystal laughed. She tossed her arms around Vul and threw her head back, peals of mirth dispelling the heavy atmosphere. Nicky joined her, hugging Vul tightly and adding her own voice to the laughter. The confused halfling looked back and forth between the both of them, convinced they had both been driven to insanity.

"What's going on? Godsdammit! Somebody answer me!"

Rh'ou watched them, spirits somewhat lifted by the palpable feelings of relief and joy coming from the other two women. He, however, remained crushed by the weight of his loss. He wished desperately for the human ability to cry, to give some physical release to his suffering.

A hand settled atop his head, gently stroking the smoke-gray fur. Rh'ou looked up into Vithran's sympathetic gaze, then glanced up at Fhahris, his heart giving another twinge at the sight of Hra'hiri's body in her arms. The Goddess turned to him, her face holding for a moment in its feline shape. Her whiskers went forward, and her ears tilted towards him encouragingly.

"Never fear, My faithful Rh'ai," She said as softly as she could in her rough tone. "He is with Me now, and shall remain in My embrace for eternity. He has earned the highest of regards, and will be duly rewarded in the afterlife," Fhahris looked towards the rest of the group, her features once again human. Her brow dipped inwards in a thoughtful frown. "I would request that you remain with them. There is much yet to be done, and I would be grateful to have an Eye amongst those doings."

Rh'ou swallowed anxiously, tail lashing with nerves. ~*But...My Lady, I was asked to inform L'rah of...*~

"I know." Fhahris cut him off. "I shall do so myself, and send your sympathies. Will that suit?"

Rh'ou nodded. One did not say 'no' to one's Goddess; though he was not entirely averse to the idea of spending more time in the company of these people.

"Hey, hold the celebration a second," Vul craned her head around, her body trapped within the double embrace of her friends. "Where'd Lantar get to?!"

Nicky's head shot up. She stared about herself, angry and confused. "He should be here! I hit him hard enough to keep him unconscious for weeks!"

"He must have gotten away, one way or another," Krystal said, grim once again. "No doubt he'll be causing us more trouble in the future. There's nothing we can do about it now."

"True," The Archer rose to his feet, dusting off the knees of his trousers. He extended a hand to Lucida, and pulled her carefully up. "We must be going as well. Our time in this frame of reality must always be kept short." The God looked towards Vithran, who had remained mostly unnoticed the entire time. "I grieve for your loss, as well," He said quietly. "Your father served me as best he knew how, and I will ensure he is treated with the respect he deserves."

"Father?" Vul looked to Vithran questioningly. The elf concentrated on his hands in his lap.

"He was felled by a demon, just as the spell faltered," He said, voice somehow emotionless. "I saw, but was too far away to prevent it. When things seemed to be lost, I came searching for you, knowing I would find you in the thick of it." He looked up, a small, sad smile hovering about his mouth. "And blood is blood."

"Yes," Vul replied slowly, "Yes it is."

"I believe you will find that your Captain is well, along with the Lord Dion," Lucida told them. "I am sorry for the heavy casualties, but We have done all We could do. I shall take the body of the Wyrm Ryn with me when I go. Dragons may not worship any deity, but there is a mutual respect between us. Her sacrifice was great indeed."

The Gods stepped back away from the still kneeling mortals, gathering together in a small group. The Archer nodded to the two of elven descent, Fhahris purred softly to the grieving Rh'ou, and Lucida smiled warmly at Nicky and Nemisa.

"I cannot thank you enough for your help, the both of you," She raised her hand in small wave. "I release you from your service, Nemisa. You are free to do as you may wish."

With that, they became streaks of light once more, rocketing away towards the heavens, bearing Hra'hiri's body with them.

Nemisa flew upwards a few feet, as though debating following them. She drifted slowly back to the ground, alighting near Rh'ou's front paws. No one felt the need to say anything; they merely looked at her, and then at each other, only now beginning to comprehend what they had accomplished.

"...We did it, didn't we?" Vul said in a small voice, looking around at them. "What we all thought was impossible."

"We're not through yet," Krystal reminded them, helping Vul back to her feet. "The Rip is still wide open, there may yet be more Ryxxi loose in the world, Lantar is missing, and the city is in ruins."

"Maybe," Nicky smiled, "But hey, we protected the rest of the world from a demonic invasion, stopped a power mad Baron, and saved countless other lives. Not bad for a day's work, in my opinion."

Vithran chuckled and stood. "There's plenty of rebuilding to do. I can promise you the aide of my people in repairing this city."

"Good. Because I get the feeling we're headed back south," Nemisa said. "Lantar's most likely to return home, and regroup there."

~*Then there is where we shall go*~ Rh'ou put in.

"'Scuse me," Vul held up a finger. "Since when are the three of you involved?"

Nemisa, Vithran and Rh'ou looked at each other before grinning. "Since you dragged us all into it, of course."

Krystal, Vul and Nicky exchanged a three way deadpan look. Vul finally grinned and shook her head.

"Hang on to your assorted magical paraphernalia, mercenaries and nonhuman critters. It's bound to be a bumpy ride."

I'm...done? *blinkblink* It still doesn't feel real! I've been writing this for so long that it feels FUNNY to not have it hanging over my head! But I'm DONE! *does a happy dance* Can you believe this?! Eeee! Now comes the process of going back and EDITING the stupid thing...and possibly working out a sequel. We'll see. Maybe. Hopefully ^^

^-^ Eh heh, Physh reminded me that I'd had this done for a while (since around May 20-something, actually), and that it was just sort of sitting on my HD. Sankyuu Physh! I'm a bad authoress. I suppose I just forgot, between SATs and finals and the like, but school's out this coming Tues, so all will be well! I've got a job now too, which eats up alot of my time, but with any luck I should get more progress done on OTHER fics now that I don't have schoolwork to occupy my time.

I can't thank everyone enough for giving me support ^^ You should have seen me when I found out I'd broken 100 reviews. I screamed, bolted up out of my seat and ran to drag my sister to the computer to see. Apparently I scared my dog in the process. -.-; Oopsie on my part. But I digress; I really don't think I could have gotten through this whole story without all the people who've poked and prodded me along the way. Most notably Angel, TK, Kiari (or whatever she's calling herself these days) Tiamat, Lexa, Lady Icecubes, dhiamarra...people who were there for many, many chapters.

I would have given up way back at chapter 10 or thereabouts if I hadn't had the reviews ^_^ Danke Schun. From the bottom of my heart. Never thought I'd finish it.