It was night when Stathis awoke, the only light that of the moons, three crescent slivers tinging everything with a pale silver glow. She tried to move, something around her wrists binding her in place. Her ankles were bound as well, tethered securely to the chair. She breathed, calming herself and then summoned up light, a mote of blue glowing in front of her, letting her see what was happening. Her head throbbed, and there was a strange aftertaste on her tongue – the drink must have been spiked with something.

Her arms were tied to the chair, rope securely knotted around the wood. Semari was similarly tied in place, although her sleeping in the foetal position had made the process more complicated, the entire chair wrapped in rope. A heavy snoring she recognised as Pajaran came from somewhere out of sight behind her.

Stathis bumped her chair towards Semari, heavy thuds against the floor. ‘Hey! Wake up!’ There was a slow, drowsy mumble from within the rope. ‘Wake up!’

‘Huh? Whassit.’ An arm pushed against the rope, slowly at first, then with greater strength and purpose.

‘It must have been that wizard, she’s drugged us then tied us up, we need to break free. And I bet she’s taken that stone as well. Can you free yourself?’

There was a soft slicing sound, the rope around Semari slackening as it was cut. ‘Yeah, simples. Why I always keep a hidden blade.’ Then she noticed the light, floating in the air. ‘Hey, that’s cool!’ She poked it. ‘How can you do that?’

‘I’ve picked up a few tricks, but that’s not important right now. Can you cut me free?’ Semari complied, quickly slicing through the ropes, allowing Stathis to stand. Pajaran was trying to break free herself, until Stathis cut her bonds as well. ‘Any idea where they might be?’

‘Dunno, maybe that evil altar thing on the edge of town, by the coast? That seemed suspicious. I told you we should have killed the wizard though, she’s obviously evil.’

Stathis remembered the seething, rushing evil she had felt earlier. Was the unseen archer another enemy? Unless they could see in the dark, there was little danger of sniper shots in the night, as small consolation. ‘Show me the way.’ She beckoned the mote of light closer, hiding it within cupped hands so it only illuminated the nearby area.

‘Cool trick. Not as cool as Kethys, she can call up, like, dancing lights and darkness and levitate and stuff, but not bad for a fighter.’

Pajaran grabbed her gear. ‘Let’s go. Bastard wizards. And she’s taken Krethik as well. Knew we couldn’t trust her. Tonight’s a triple crescent as well, so she’s probably doing some ritual stuff or something.’

They moved outside, running through the empty village. The rain had died down, but the ground hadn’t yet dried. The ocean was visible only as a vast darkness stretching towards the horizon, a low susurration of waves in the near distance.

As they ran, Stathis spoke to Pajaran and Semari. ‘When we get there, I’ll go first. You try and sneak in, and attack the wizard, do to her what you did to the necromancer.’

‘Cool, sounds like a plan. Try not to get killed.’ Pajaran agreed.

‘Yeah, same for you.’

From somewhere ahead of them was a low crimson glow, a powerful aura of bitter, cold evil washing out, awakening Stathis’ instincts even without her trying to sense anything. A low, throbbing chant could be heard, managing to echo and resonate through the empty air. Stathis passed through a gate, posts covered with prayer seals and protective symbols, warding whatever was behind it.

The red glow intensified, an eerie mist filling the air, tendrils of the stuff seeping around the area, probing and feeling as though curious. Stathis waved her sword through one, the rush of air breaking it apart for a moment, before reforming without seeming injury. Ahead was an altar, a huge black block of stone, worn and cracked by years of exposure, faintest tracing of ancient runes catching the moonlight. Tied to the altar was Janaxia, tight ropes at wrist and ankle spread-eagling her, a gag in her mouth silencing her. Although from the limpness of her body, she was still charmed or drugged, as she didn’t seem to be resisting or trying to break free.

Stood over her was Krathik, a curved dagger in hand. His armour had been discarded and replaced with an elaborate black robe, the patterns on it shifting and warping in the night, blasphemous glyphs barely visible in the night. He looked at Stathis, teeth sharp as he grinned. Black lines were starting to form on one side of his face, a sharp-spiked pattern unfurling from his tattoo. His eyes were staining themselves crimson and starting to glow, bathing the scene in blood-red light. The black stone was in his hand, now grafted somehow into his flesh. The air was freezing, ground slick and hard with ice.

‘I didn’t expect you to break free, although I suppose it isn’t a surprise. Leave now, and I won’t have to kill you.’ His voice, previously gravelly, was now bitter and powerful, booming in the cold air.

‘You don’t have to kill me anyway! Or her, she’s done nothing to you.’ The altar was in the way, making a direct attack too risky, at least without Janaxia getting killed. ‘Why are you doing this?’

Krathik laughed, falling into maniacal cackling, the glow from his eyes brightening, fingers starting to shift into claws. ‘Her blood bears ancient power, enough to awaken the stone. If you won’t flee, then join me. I could always do with some blades, and I’ll pay better than those bastards.’ He held out the clawed hand, the cold intensifying as the gem added its own chill tinge to the light.

‘We could work together anyway; you don’t need to become a demon!’ Stathis extended her senses, feeling the overflowing torrent of cold, broken bitterness from before, although it felt strangely weaker.

He cackled. ‘I’ve been working for years, never any respect. Ground down by pricks like Karmalina and Cothay, always wanting more, and more, without giving anything themselves. To spend years crawling through dungeons, knee-deep in filth, fighting twisted monsters, and now at the beck and call of some shits like them? This is simpler, and far faster. You could become powerful now! Can you not hear it calling to you?’

Stathis slowly stepped forward, hands raised. ‘We don’t need to fight. But you don’t need to kill her, she’s done nothing to you. We can fix this, but I need you to put the dagger down.’

The tattoos had finished their growth, his face now covered with spiked curves and whorls, beard starting to shift and turning blue, cold and hard. ‘No. She dies – a simple price for my power, and given that blood her family have shed, a small price to pay.’ He raised the blade high, ready to slice out Janaxia’s heart.

Semari leapt down from above, her shortsword thrusting at him. Krathik gestured with the gemstone-embedded hand, daggers of ice flying out and hitting Semari, knocking her back and stopping her attack. Stathis and Pajaran charged, each taking a different side around the altar, catching him from both sides.

Stathis attacked, her blade clanging against the clawed hand, whatever transformation he had performed meaning his skin was now iron-hard. Rime started spreading down the metal before she pulled it back, lethal cold swirling through the air. Pajaran smashed at him as a spike of ice stabbed up from the ground, stabbing her through a leg, ice tinting crimson from the wound. She winced but pushed on with her attack, swing ripping away part of Krathik’s robe. The skin revealed beneath was cold and hard, that of a frozen corpse.

Semari attacked and stabbed him in the shoulder, tainted black ichor oozing out of the wound. He spun around, ice trailing from his hand and forming itself into a lash. Semari dodged backwards, rapidly running out of space, dancing on the very edge of the cliff.

He twisted his wrist again, the lash biting into Stathis’ shield, taking a chunk out of the wood. Pajaran tried to push the attack, a dagger of ice striking her shoulder and forcing her back. Stathis jumped forward, grabbing at Semari and pulling her back onto more solid ground. Krethik jumped up onto the altar, spinning the icy whip around. Stathis raised her shield, feeling it crack under the impact as cold washed around her. Semari ducked behind her, sheltering from further attacks.

Then Krethik screamed, emotion in his cold voice. Stathis peeked around the shield – Janaxia had regained consciousness, her hand free enough to grab his ankle. Some blackness, dark enough to be seen even against the night, writhed and twitched between them, as he screamed in pain. Then arrows suddenly bloomed in his chest, striking home with sickening thuds.

He staggered backwards, coughing up blood, the stuff freezing into savage spikes as it trickled into his beard. The lash flicked through the air, wrapping around Stathis’ wrist, flash-freezing her armour, feeling her skin crack and dry beneath. As it unwrapped, it took fragments of the armour with it, metal shattering from the savage coldness.

Pajaran jumped onto the altar, cracking him across the back with a solid strike. A chunk of his body shattered and fell to the ground, breaking further on impact, a rancid stench washing into the night breeze. It was too dark for Stathis to see what he had transformed into, for which she was thankful, as something grew out of his back, a twisted, barbed curve of shining ice. It stabbed backwards, catching Semari, slicing along her chest, making her scream in pain.

Stathis moved onto the altar as well, trying to catch Krethik off guard. He flicked an arm backwards, a spike of ice shooting out and sticking into her chest, pushing her back. Another arrow shot in from the darkness, sticking into his shoulder.

His laughter was more of a pain-wracked bubbling, blood welling out of his mouth. He was starting to change shape, bulkier and more powerful, the robe starting to split apart. Pajaran’s mace cracked across his face with enough force to shatter a skull, but he simply shrugged it off. A hand reached for her, ignoring her desperate attempt to block with her mace. Krethik grabbed her shoulder, the air misting as icy vapour streamed around her. Sheets of ice formed, clinging to Pajaran, encasing her solidly, shrouding her body within solid ice, freezing her in place.

From behind him, Stathis swung her sword, whatever she was hitting crunching with the sounds of icy slush being shattered, a rancid scent in the air. Krethik released Pajaran, her frozen body falling to the ground and tilting over.

Fury burnt inside Stathis as she drew her sword back. It burnt with fire, the thin, harsh light of a wrathful dawn, banishing dark from the world. The altar beneath her, now covered in a thin layer of rime, started to hiss and steam. The light clearly illuminated Krethik, now a broken, misshapen mass, one side hulking and overgrown, the other still normal-sized. Where he had been injured, his insides could be seen, a writhing, crystalline mass, regenerating and warping his body further. Another arrow arced in and sank into his boy, flesh growing over it immediately.

She thrust again, bright blade sinking deep into him. This time, his body burnt around the stab-wound, acrid steam billowing forth. His cry was agonised, before she drew the blade back, easily slicing through his body. Another segment fell to the ground, immediately melting into reeking slush. The tail-spike stabbed down, too slow, as she sidestepped and simply sliced through it, then stepped forward and smashed him in the face with her shield.

His face collapsed under the impact, acrid slush running into his eyes. ‘Mercy! I claim mercy!’

Her voice was wrath and power, lethal intent swelling through her. ‘Did you have mercy for her? You sought power, not grace. By Heaven’s Eye, I declare you anathema.’ The fierce, inhuman light poured forth from her blade. ‘I bring the light of dawn, and the banishment of the dark.’ She thrust and sliced, his arm falling to the ground, as the altar started to splinter beneath them.

His face warped, ice- and blood-coated beard splitting apart as his face and head shifted, a tusk growing through. He tried to speak, mouth now unable to form words, as Stathis cut through where his heart would be, foul ooze gushing forth. Another arrow hit home, taking out an eye, shards of ice already forming along the shaft.

Then Stathis drew her sword back, bringing her sword around in a powerful arc, light trailing behind it. It cut through his neck, a single powerful slice severing his head from his shoulders. His body sank down, ice melting away, leaving a twisted and warped piece of meat. The power still surged within Stathis, driving her to action – another blow shattered off a chunk of the stone, some dark power slinking away. A clawed arm flailed, a single slice cutting it apart, ice melting away from broken bone and rancid meat.

She twisted her grip on the sword, taking the hilt in both hands and thrusting at the stone. Frozen light met chill dawn, sparks flying, before Stathis’ power won through, cutting into the ancient stone. Power welled up, a brutally cold tornado, shards of ice battering Stathis’ armour, cutting and slicing her face, ice burning up the sword and into her hands, the metal starting to crack.

Then the true dawn came, thin light creeping over the horizon. The stone cracked and shattered, flash-freezing the ground, ropes restraining Janaxia going stiff and brittle. Stathis collapsed, sinking to the ground in a personal darkness, as the world was once more bathed in light.