The sides of the slope up to the altar were steeper than Stathis expected, loose soil slipping away beneath her. As the soil and sand shifted, more bones and bits of old weapons appeared, probably from past sacrifices, or dumped here after a fight, to keep the arena clean. The body of the lion-monster was already being sliced up, the smell of blood thick and heavy. Zarazonnia had to move in a wide circle, spreading her bulk into a wide circle over as much of the surface as possible, until her torso was on level with the top of the mound.

The altar itself was a large and lop-sided chunk of dark stone, so black it was hard to see any details, although the thing looked like it had once been part of some larger structure, the edges ragged and broken, worn smooth over time. The glossiness of the top was marred by dried blood, an unhealthy-looking crust of brown over the deep and shining black, the negation of colour seeming to throb and pulse.

Skotadi was walking so closely to her it was an effort not to trip over her, a thick veil blossoming around her face as well as the concealing cloak, her slight form invisible beneath it. It wasn’t entirely the same as what Rath had worn, but hopefully Poratia wouldn’t be able to tell. Stathis ended up grabbing Skotadi and pulling her in front, that being easier than having her presence so close behind and making sure she couldn’t vanish.

‘This is the stone of our founding. As they have won their victory, then so shall their strength be added to ours. Let the blood of champions flow!’

Janaxia appeared next to Zarazonnia, her black platform supporting her weight, stood Poratia next to her. She looked tired and drawn but had still dressed herself finely. Her arms were bare, a silver armlet around her left wrist, dark gems studded against the silver, and with her wooden sword-blade at her waist. As she looked at Stathis, some colour returned to her face, although the dark circles beneath her eyes were obvious, despite her makeup.

I… be careful, I’m not sure what might happen. If you could kindly grab Skotadi and I will endeavour to remove myself, should such be required. My thoughts seem a little clouded at the moment… Stathis could see that Poratia was grabbing onto Janaxia, one hand holding her forearm tightly enough to leave marks on the skin. Skotadi hissed, tensing in front of Stathis.

Vissa walked past, straining as the loose sand of the mound gave way beneath her, drawing one of her swords and giving a flamboyant bow, almost falling over as the ground continued to slide away, her feet sinking downwards. Zarazonnia drew one of her own swords – a sleek length of bright steel, single-edged and slightly curved. She struck with a single smooth strike, blade slashing along Vissa’s extended arm. Blood welled up and fell down into her hand. She pumped her fist until it was flowing, then extended her arm, letting blood fall onto the stone. Droplets splashed downwards, the crowd roaring their approval, Vissa posing for them.

Stathis walked forward, pushing Skotadi ahead of herself, Zarazonnia’s body swaying, as Poratia silently started to cast a spell, lights dancing out from the fingers of the hand holding her staff, fingers of her other hand tightly gripped into Janaxia’s arm. Skotadi hissed again.

‘There is power here, for the taking, and she deserves nothing but suffering!’ Stathis could feel Skotadi’s clothing shifting around as she stepped away from Stathis and extended an arm. Cool darkness extended from her, something shifting about beneath her cloak, random spikes forming then fading. Zarazonnia flicked her blade clean, having to sway to keep her balance, the surface not prepared for her weight.

Whatever spell Poratia was casting, it was turning her hand into a thing of solid black, throbbing in time with the altar. Zarazonnia levelled her sword at Skotadi, who extended an arm, skin tanning unnaturally fast. The blade flashed again, Skotadi hissing in pain as she was cut. Darkness bubbled from the wound, dripping along her arm, like sticky tar, moving with unnatural, thick slowness down her arm, Skotadi having to shake herself to get the stuff to move.

She held her hand above the altar, palm up. A pool of gloopy darkness had formed there, bubbling somehow, like a small tar-pit. The blood already on the altar started to seethe and bubble, the dried encrustations liquifying, darkening into a thick paste. Zarazonnia looked surprised, and then Poratia raised her hand, pointing it at Skotadi and screeching out some spell.

Janaxia screamed, blood starting to run down her arm, the silver digging into her arm, the metal now spiking into her. Her hair-lash burst with a sudden, eye-stinging burst of light, throbbing a baleful red. Her tattoo started to spin crazily on her chest as Skotadi tilted her hand, the paste joining with the suddenly-liquid blood, red and black mingling together, forming into a long strand and coming up towards Skotadi. Poratia looked at Skotadi in surprise, but continued to incant, eyes burning. Skotadi said something back, the words searing themselves from Stathis’ mind as soon as she heard them.

Janaxia’s body was rigid and tense, eyes rolled back, her arm bleeding heavily. Skotadi hissed angrily, the sound echoing somehow, the bright sunlight darkening as though heavy clouds had appeared in front of the sun, despite the clear sky.

Stathis tried to move forward, the ground shifting beneath her, as Vissa looked around uncertainly.

Zarazonnia drew another sword, rising upwards above everyone else as blood-goop pulled itself towards Skotadi, pulling itself over her hand. The altar was pulsing now, spots of light appearing within the solid black rock. Before Stathis could reach Janaxia, Poratia raised her staff, a chill wind suddenly blowing as a glowing-eyed skull formed above her head. It opened its mouth and screamed, the sound stabbing into Stathis and making her wince in pain, the whole surface vibrating in time. The stone screamed back, Skotadi wincing, blood trickling from her nose.

She spoke a single word which tolled out like a dolorous bell, Poratia staggering. The skull shimmered for a moment, one of Zarazonnia’s attendants dropping to the floor, suddenly limp.

Vissa turned and swung at Stathis, blood streaming down her arm. Stathis took the hit, before striking back, chopping at her. The surface beneath them felt like it was vibrating, the loose-packed soil slipping whenever she stood on it. When she swung at Vissa, the woman tried to dodge, the ground giving way beneath her. As she tumbled away, Stathis gave her a kick, sending her skidding and sliding downwards.

Prickling, biting energy assaulted Stathis, her limbs suddenly as heavy as lead. She managed to take another step forward, feeling more solid ground around the altar. Skotadi was stood in a breeze that ruffled her clothing, sending her hair streaming but otherwise entirely unfelt, one arm now solid black. Poratia was stood on the other side of the altar, ethereal skull still screaming from above her, a ghostly wraith pulling itself through the floor. Janaxia’s eyes were bulging and unfocused, lips twitching without any sound coming out.

Skotadi hissed, her cloak clothing rippling into finery, a tattered version of Janaxia’s clothing. ‘That one is mine!’

Darkness exploded outwards from her, burning cold grabbing at Stathis. She saw Zarazonnia lunge for Poratia, blade deflecting off a magical barrier before everything went dark. This darkness felt colder than usual, the motes of light brighter somehow.

‘Janaxia?’ Her voice was swallowed up by the vast darkness, a blow knocking against her shoulder, with enough force to knock her aside. The coldness started to sear into her, gripping her within its bitterness. She stepped forward until she felt the altar, ducking low. Skotadi’s voice boomed from everywhere, echoing and crashing around.

‘I claim her, in my name, and with my power! You shall not harm her!’

Lightning sparked and arced through the darkness, flashing brightly against the void. Skotadi gasped in pain, as Stathis fumbled around, trying to find where Skotadi was. Where she pressed against the altar, she could feel it as a deathly cold thing, sucking heat and energy from her. Where was Skotadi? Metal slammed against stone with a shattering sound, shrapnel shooting out, pinging against Stathis’ armour. Someone heavier than Skotadi stumbled against her, before stepping away again, vanishing into the darkness.

Stathis slowly moved around the altar, heading for where Janaxia had been. The sound of the crowd had vanished, the air cold and still. Stone cracked again, shrapnel ricocheting against her armour as something whistled past, just above her head. She could still feel the ground beneath her feet, but everything else was darkness. She reached out, feeling her shield butt against a solid surface. Lightning blasted from the darkness, blinding flashes searing purple-green blobs into Stathis’ eyes.

Ahead of her was, somehow, a space that was even darker. Lightning flashed again, Skotadi’s shriek coming from somewhere, time and distance impossible to tell.

Stathis pulled herself towards the darkness, feeling intense pressure around her, pressing down on her. Beneath the throbbing silence she started to make out a faint, pained scream, long and drawn out. She fumbled forward again, reaching forward, trying to find the heart of the path of darkness, Janaxia’s sounds of pain getting louder. And then darkness snapped away, like stepping into the eye of a hurricane, vision returning, solid darkness just a step behind her. She almost staggered and fell, the ground steep beneath her feet, catching herself on the edge of Janaxia’s magical platform.

Janaxia was stood, body rictus-stiff, face conveying an expression of pain, her eyes darting about. One arm was raised, fingers bent into a claw, her nails grown out into jet-black claws, razor-sharp lengths from her fingers. The other had blood streaming down from the silver armlet, spikes digging into her flesh, the red fluid glowing with the same tint as her hair-lash. More blood was soaking into her clothing, sticking the dark silks to her body. Spectral wraiths were assaulting her, barely held back by a barrier that flickered over her skin.

Poratia was lower down the slope, hands moving rapidly as she incanted, staff held in one hand, the other wreathed in lightning. Zarazonnia was moving strangely, her movements slowed, ethereal chains wrapped around her limbs and torso, her serpent’s tail hidden away in the darkness. She wrenched at one arm, the chains tightening, ghostly metal starting to crack. Ichor was running down her body, scales cracked and torn away, flesh burned. Four of her hands held swords, all of them glowing with magical power, one arm looking to be bent at a strange angle, the other slowly tracing a glowing symbol into the air.

Poratia snarled. ‘Foolish whelp of a child! Stealing a power that wasn’t yours. But you cannot control it, can you? You always were the weakest and most pathetic! Scarcely worthy of the blood in your veins. Accept your death!’

Janaxia managed a short, sharp shake of her head, her hands shaking. No! Please, don’t hurt me. Don’t lock me away again! Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Stathis stepped forward, raising her shield just in time, moving in front of Janaxia to block a cascade of lightning. The power coursed through her, stinging and scalding her arm but without causing serious damage, as she glanced around trying to spot Skotadi.

‘Janaxia! You need to fight back!’

Whatever spell Zarazonnia was casting finished, a mote of bright fire flashing into existence before flying forwards, heading towards Poratia. She twisted towards it, fingers stabbing at the air, a weave of magic flying out and washing over the ball, which suddenly winked out. Zarazonnia started to move forward, still moving unnaturally slowly, swords all coming up to lunge and stab. Poratia tutted, slicing her staff through the air. Gems along the length of it shone with power, ghostly forms spiralling outwards and streaming towards Zarazonnia, skull-heads howling.

Swords flashed, cleaving through ghostly flesh, but there was a stream of the things, even that some made it through the flashing web of steel that surrounded Zarazonnia, latching onto her, fingers grabbing at flesh and scales.

Janaxia whimpered again, body shivering.

‘Snap out of it!’

Poratia turned back to look up at Janaxia, eyes briefly flicking over Stathis. ‘Your annoyingly faithful knight again? Time for them to die, and then I will rip your soul away. I’m sure I can find someone willing to buy your body afterwards.’ She pointed a finger at Stathis, the digit glowing with baleful green energy, shooting towards her.

It struck her, chilling her body, vision going black for a moment before returning. ‘Janaxia! Fight back! You don’t have to obey her!’

But… she’ll hurt me. Lock me away, break me…

A blast of magic shot out from Poratia’s hands again, darts of magic stinging into Janaxia before Stathis could move, making her moan and shudder. The walls of darkness roiled and seethed, pushing inwards. A pale vision of Skotadi’s face appeared in the darkness, face angry, eyes blazing brightly. Poratia smiled, slamming the base of her staff into the ground.

The image of Skotadi looked shocked for a moment before vanishing, shadows coalescing in front of Poratia, reforming into Skotadi. Poratia cackled. ‘Ah, so there is a focal point. So much easier to destroy, all at once. A familiar spirit, but more independent?’

Darkness sprung out from Skotadi, just as quickly being dispelled, before Poratia conjured up a barrage of magical darts that slammed into Skotadi’s body, making her shudder and groan in pain. Poratia grabbed at her with her darkness-covered hand. Where it touched Skotadi, her flesh blackened and charred and she screamed. Her body continued to disintegrate, breaking up into ash as she screamed.

Stathis turned back to Janaxia. ‘You need to help her!’ Blood was trickling from Janaxia’s eyes, now turning black. ‘Janaxia! Think of what Kinnevar would do, and how much you hate her! I can’t do this alone.’ She grabbed Janaxia by the front of her clothing and dragged, Janaxia stumbling and falling against her, barely supporting her own weight.

A wordless burble of confusion and fear rolled out of Janaxia’s mind, as Stathis let gravity take over, skidding down the slope.

‘Come on!’

But, but… I can’t, she might…

Skotadi screamed, one arm now a tattered stump of shadow. She twisted, clawing at Poratia with her other hand, nails leaving bloody rents down the woman’s face, before Poratia awkwardly clubbed her in the face with her staff.

‘Skotadi’s your student and your friend! You need to help her!’

They skidded towards Poratia, pushing past Skotadi, a deep chill washing through Stathis’ body, an angry growl sounding in her mind. Stathis lunged at Poratia, her sword glowing with golden light, making Skotadi scream again. The sword bounced off an invisible barrier, Poratia turning to look at her, distaste clear on her face.

‘You think a mere blade will affect me?’ She spoke a single word, pain flaring up and assaulting Stathis, making her reel in agony, barely able to keep hold of her sword. ‘Your body will become meat!’ Janaxia fell to her knees and started to sob. Poratia looked down at her with contempt. ‘And you will suffer for a long time. Stupid girl.’

Skotadi screamed again, her body too weak to pull away.

‘Janaxia!’ Stathis could barely move through the pain, managing another weak strike. ‘I need you to help me! If you want to be like Kinnevar, now’s the bloody time!’

But… She’ll hurt me…

‘She’ll do that anyway! Stop cowering, it doesn’t… doesn’t suit you.’ She tried focusing through the pain. ‘Stand!’ A faint shimmer of golden light sparked between the two of them, illuminating Janaxia’s horns, as she lumbered to her feet.

‘Oh? You think to challenge…’

Poratia didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Janaxia had drawn her own weapon and attacked with it, a strike aimed straight at Poratia’s head. It bounced off a magical barrier, a forcefield appearing for a second. She attacked again, sidestepping and then blinking out of sight, appearing in mid-air behind Poratia, swinging again, blade cracking against the back of Poratia’s head.

She stumbled forward with a curse, letting go of Skotadi. Skotadi’s entire arm had melted away, blackened ash drifting through the air as Stathis caught her and tried to heal her. As her hand touched Skotadi’s body, vicious cold seared into her skin, golden light flowing from her fingertips and getting pulled into Skotadi. She tried to support their weight on the uneven ground and swung back, blade deflecting off the magical barrier again. It must be single-sided as Janaxia was having more success, her own blade striking against Poratia with meaty thwacks. An attempt by Poratia at casting another spell was cut short by a blow to the head, opening up a bloody gouge.

Skotadi clutched at Stathis, her clothing steaming around her, the dark material fading away. Her body beneath was getting lighter and lighter, some of the pain clearing from her eyes.

Poratia managed to fend Janaxia off for a moment with her staff, catching her across the face and leaving a bloody welt. Fire leapt from the staff, clinging to Janaxia and searing her, making her scream in pain. But she managed to stay standing, attacking again, even as her clothing started to unravel.

Skotadi’s hand touched against Stathis’ helm, chill conducting itself through the metal. Her mouth opened in an unnerving grin, fangs showing. A ragged stump was still left to her, rags of shadow concealing it from view. ‘She… she hurt me!’ Fury sparked in her eyes, and she managed to get her feet underneath her, heaving in deep breaths. ‘I will destroy her! Unmake her entirely!’

‘Just rest! You’re barely hanging on.’

Coldness filled the air, wisps of steam appearing. Skotadi hunched her shoulders and twisted the fingers of her remaining hand as Janaxia screamed in pain, her mother focused on her, keeping the flames burning with magical power.

When Skotadi spoke, Stathis couldn’t understand any of the words, but the tone was bitter. The walls of shadow bubbled and seethed before crashing inwards, everything going dark.