‘Any reports, Dorothia?’

‘No, Commander. There is still a lack of long-range magical communication or transportation. It came down after dispatching the expeditionary forces.’

‘The worst possible timing – they’re deployed over such a wide territory that there’s no other way for them to communicate. It’s impossible to tell how much territory we control, even in our own damn country!’ Iochia gestured at the map of the continent in front of her – wooden markers for various forces were scattered around, but all had the black bases indicating uncertainty. ‘Although I suppose at least our foes don’t seem any more coordinated. If they were able to organise themselves and we couldn’t, then we’d be getting nibbled and sliced apart, one force at a time.’

‘I’ve had a number of the scouting forces re-deployed on wide sweeps to try and re-establish communications, at least for the closest groups. Even on eagle-back though, there’s only so much ground they can cover, and we need them to cover local territory as well.’

‘Especially after that incident with the vampires. Damned leeches! It’s something to be thankful for that they were lazy and incompetent, otherwise they could have suborned far more people.’

‘I’ve doubled up on internal investigations, to make sure there aren’t any other compromised agents. Or, if there are, that we know them, and can feed them appropriate information.’

‘Good.’ Iochia leaned forward, picking up one of the wooden markers, carefully examining the craftsmanship – finely-turned wood, with light lines of gold making up the legion number, the base slotting into the “unknown location” hexagon. Were they still there? Or had they moved on, or been destroyed? ‘How is morale?’

‘Better than expected thus far – some grumbling about the slowing and stopping of trade, but that’s a universal, and the stores are holding out, with the grain prices being controlled. There was genuine support for the expeditionary forces, and thus far that persists. If reports of casualties start, then that may decline, if there is no obvious reason for their deployment though.’

‘No-one likes their child, partner or friend dying far from home. But it was that or cede the land to whoever is behind this. I don’t suppose the wizards have made any headway? With the amount of gold I throw at them, you’d think they would have at least something, even if it was made up!’

‘I’m afraid not, Commander. They have managed to locate the source as being to the north, in an area of mostly-wilderness. They suspect that, closer to the source, there will be even stronger effects, potentially disruptive to the local fabric of reality.’

‘Well, that sounds like a problem for the future. Let’s focus on what we can resolve.’

Dorothia nodded, shuffling through her papers, before taking a sip of her wine. An enchanted gem on the goblet was shining with a soft green glow, showing that the wine was untainted. ‘Carissia’s… rampage certainly helped, as she did clear out a number of potential threats. Some of which we should have dealt with ourselves.’

‘We should, but a lot of them were deeply entrenched into position.’ Iochia took a sip of her own wine – sweet and strong, just the way she liked it. She rose from her chair and went to the window, looking out over the capital – although it was night, mage-lights lit large parts of the capital still, shedding a constant light. She could see guards patrolling the walls, citizens going about their business (or, at this time of night, more likely pleasure). But beyond the walls of the city, there was just the veil of night, even the three moons doing little to illuminate the darkness.

She rested a hand on her sword, the worn leather grip bringing her some comfort.

‘I believe she was headed for Sainted Hirata?’

‘Indeed. To meet up with Master Yeros – to check that the creatures sealed into the catacombs haven’t awoken.’

‘Good. The last thing we need is some of them awakening! And hopefully she’ll get some rest. Even with the blessings of the gods, she can’t keep going forever.’

‘The same could be said of you.’

Dorothia looked at her, eyes sharp. ‘I know you’ve barely been sleeping. Even with potions and philtres, you need to rest! We can manage without you for a few hours, at least.’

Iochia tensed her back, feeling the aches and strains of age. ‘I’ve done worse in the field. Although I won’t lie, I do much prefer my bed these days, rather than the ground. One of the benefits of rank!’ She cast her gaze over the ground inside the walls – mostly repaired from Stathis’ brief return. Iochia couldn’t supress a sting of worry. ‘No word of Stathis still?’

Dorothia sighed, then shook her head. ‘No. Nor Janaxia either. If the Uth Tremari are sheltering her, they’re keeping her very hidden away, especially for someone that has useful skills. Her siblings were reported in all sorts of places, but there’s been no sign of her.’

‘We know she’s not dead, or if she is, then her soul is trapped, but…’ Iochia shook her head, trying to dispel the darkness within her thoughts. If Stathis had just stayed here, where she could have been protected, while serving in the army! But it was hard to fault her for seeking her own strengths and companions, even if it had led her to falling in with that Uth Tremari wench. For all she was the black sheep of their bastard family, she was still tied into ancient powers of darkness, and seemed well on the way towards becoming one herself, from what the spies had been able to cover. Of all the lovers to pick! That Brina girl had been a far better choice, and much easier to keep track of, but even she had vanished from her post.

‘I have no doubt she is safe, and no doubt doing what she thinks is best, Commander.’

‘Hmm. I only pray that you are right. If not, then all may be lost.’ She sighed. ‘But we must fight the battles we can fight, not those we would wish to.’ She looked over the courtyard again, seeing a shadow move strangely, reaching out for an enchanted telescope. When she looked through it, the darkness vanished, everything clearly visible – a furtive shape darted between corners, their form somehow swathed in black despite the telescope.

‘Intruders!’

As Dorothia rose from her seat and moved towards the bell-pull, the door opened, a member of the Winged Guard entered. Except his helmet was askew, his armour sloped over his shoulder.

‘Name and rank, soldier!’

They stared at her for a second before smiling, mouth splitting open to reveal too many teeth, all sharp and vicious. The chainmail armour creaked as their body expanded beneath it, struggling to take the strain, their shoulders dropping. She didn’t bother waiting for them to speak before attack, drawing her blade and swinging from the hip, feeling the shock of a good, solid impact, the enchantment on the blade helping it dig into the armour, and then the flesh beneath.

It stuck there, and she saw black ichor ooze over the blade, thicker than blade, thicker than blood. The metal started to warp, getting pitted and dark as the creature hissed. She tried drawing the blade back, but it was firmly lodged, somehow gripped by the creature, as it hissed-chuckled at her, human features fading to show a warped and monstrous face, bone far too close beneath the skin, looking almost like they had been flayed.

‘Too swift, Commander! Had you been less observant, it would have been a swift death. But now it shall be slow and brutal. I have been crafted to be your end, in vengeance for what you did to me!’

Iochia gave the sword another tug, but it was too firmly stuck, so she let it go and took a step back, watching as the magical glimmer swiftly faded, the metal disintegrating away into shards and fragments that feel to the ground. The chainmail armour creaked, links starting to break as the body swelled – was it absorbing the power somehow? Or was this just their natural shape?

‘If you were drummed out of the forces, it’s because you deserved it.’ She reached up and pulled another sword off the wall – a long rapier, meant to pierce and penetrate, then settled into a fencing position, one arm extended. ‘And whatever you are now, it’ll be a lot easier if you’re dead.’ She lunged, aiming for their swelling chest, feeling the blade strike against armour, scraping for a moment before puncturing through, stabbing into skin and organs.

‘Strike me as you wish, Commander, but I won’t die! I have been granted life eternal, and your enchantments do nothing but sustain me.’

Iochia tried to withdraw the blade, managing to slide it slightly backwards before it stopped, more of the black ichor dripping around the blade. Where it landed on the floor, it landed in greasy-looking droplets, but didn’t seem to be corrosive, at least to the rugs or the stone floor. But the long blade was starting to weaken already, and she twisted it in her hand, the blade snapping in half.

‘A child of the Triad? You’re certainly ugly enough.’ The blade was snapped in half, but it was still sharp, and she stepped in close and thrust again. The thing hissed at her then attacked, fingernails extending into claws, long and savage. She dropped a shoulder to avoid a lethal strike and stabbed the stubby blade into their stomach, finding the hole she had already punched through their taut and straining armour. They were still able to feel pain, it seemed, grunting as she skewered them, although she couldn’t move back fast enough to escape a clawed hand raking across her chest, just beneath her neck.

Her clothing was torn, the enchanted cloth unable to fully resist the attack, and she felt blood oozing out from the wound. Adrenaline started to surge, and she felt herself grinning, twisting backwards and reaching above the fireplace to grab another weapon, this one a short-handled spear, falling into a two-handed stance, ready to slide the tip forward in a swift thrust.

‘Your skills have not faded then! I always wondered what you were like in a fight, if you lived up to the stories.’ The creature was even more swollen now, pieces of armour pinging out and hitting the walls. His belly was now huge and distended, saggy skin appearing from between the broken armour and his clothing.

Iochia feinted, sliding the spear forward and then sidestepping their counterattack – they moved like a bar-brawler, keeping his own weight low, his hands high, using swift punching motions. How much damage could he take? She needed something that would keep hurting him, stop him healing! Although in this room, there was a limit to how much space she had, and she was running out of weapons.

Dorothia was on her feet, a long knife now in her hand. They needed to get out!

The creature’s face changed, suddenly becoming a mirror of Iochia’s own, speaking with her voice, making her feel queasy. ‘This place will burn! You cannot defeat me, no matter your skill.’ He ducked from side-to-side, trying to fake her out, but he still seemed wary of getting hurt – he must still be able to feel pain, and his warped body was slowing him down, although the growth had slowed.

She rolled the spear through her hand, lunging at full extension – when it hit, there wasn’t much power behind it, but there wasn’t enough room for him to be able to evade. As soon as it sliced across his body, she felt the balance of the spear shift, the enchantment getting drained, the thing getting heavier. Was there a way to defeat him without stabbing him? She could see black veins spiralling away from the stab-wound, the injury itself healing in moments.

‘You will be slain, and then your troublesome daughters!’ He tried to charge, but Iochia kept the spear angled towards him, the end still sharp enough to be a threat, unless he wanted to skewer himself.

‘She’s alive then? Good. That means I’m definitely not going to die to some pissant like you!’ Stathis was alive? That was reason enough to win! Swift thrusts, designed to miss, herded him before he realised what was happening, and Dorothia made a break for the door. He tried lunging for her, grabbing a trailing scarf, the material snagging around Dorothia’s neck. While that took his focus, Iochia spun the spear around and slammed the haft into the side of his head. She felt bone crack, the blow enough to have dropped anything normal.

Silk ripped as Dorothia sliced herself free, scampering into the hallway, her footsteps slapping on the hallway floor as she started to call for help. Iochia pressed the attack, spinning the spear, alternating between the haft and the blade, even as the metal began to fall apart.

‘Greedy bastard, aren’t you? I bet you eat wizards for lunch, they can probably do nothing against you.’ Each impact of the spear hurt him, but made the thing fall apart faster, as the magic was drained away. ‘But you’re not a ghost, so I wonder how much you can take?’

He hissed at her, face inhuman and distorted now, frustration bubbling out.

‘And that must hurt, whatever’s been done to you. Power, but at a steep price. And if you’re all that can be sent after me, then I don’t think I have that much to worry about.’ She aimed low, jabbing the fading stump of the spear into a kneecap before dropping it. She needed more weapons! They turned to face her, slowed by the monstrous growth of their belly, the thing so large is sagged downwards. Thick, ropy veins of black energy pulsed along it, like hideous worms.

It lunged, moving with surprising speed for it’s size, and forcing her backwards. She threw herself backwards, feeling herself knock into the wall, next to the window. The enchantment made it impossible to climb out, even if there was anything out there to stand on. But the enchanted telescope was close by – she picked it up, then threw it out of the window. The protective spell activated, catapulting it back inside, and slamming it into the body of the attacker, with enough force to knock them back, and Iochia ran for the doorway. A clawed hand raked her back, but she ignored the pain, running down the hallway. She could hear clamour and violence elsewhere – there were probably other attackers.

A few seconds later, they burst out of the room, smashing through the door-frame.

‘Over here!’ She waved at them, wanting to be seen, waving her hand at a door, a spark of light shining from her hand, a magical ring serving to unlock the door. Mage-lights sparked into life as soon as she entered. The light shone off metal, honed and burnished. There was no time to choose, so she plucked the nearest weapon that came to hand from the wall – a double-headed axe, shining silver blades inscribed with runes.

She started to spin, building up speed and momentum, and then stepping into a swing as soon as the thing stepped through the door. Her chop sheared deep into warped flesh, with enough power behind it that it dragged away a huge chunk of dark-veined skin. As expected, the balance of the weapon immediately started to change, but it had enough mass that she twisted her weight, bringing it back around for another swing, slamming it full-force into her target. Before it could recover, she let go and grabbed another weapon – a flail, the head starting to shimmer with heat as soon as she picked it up.

‘I might not have special powers, or be able to call up gods.’ She twisted her wrist, the flail-head whipping the air as it picked up speed. ‘But I’ve got a shitload of magical weapons, and I don’t think you can absorb them all.’ The flail-head smashed into their body, the heated metal burning their flesh. It started to cool as soon as it touched them, but from their reaction, they felt the impact.

‘I will not be defeated!’ They raised an arm, just in time to block another attack, although bone crunched under the impact of metal and she felt, and heard, their body shatter under the impact. The arm bent at a hideous angle, the other slashing at her belly. She felt it break the skin but it wasn’t a lethal wound. Crazed eyes stared back at her as she dove for the wall, picking up twinned swords, the grips comfortable and familiar in her hands.

‘It’s been a long time since I used this, but if I have to sacrifice them to defeat you, that’s a worthy trade.’ She pointed one at them, their arm already knitting itself together. ‘I am Iochia, High Commander of the Iristari. And here, in the centre of my power, you will not defeat me. No darkness shall blind my eyes, nor shall fire or steel daunt me. My daughter, wherever she may be, is the Blessed of the Light, and she will defeat you and all your kind.’ She sliced with both weapons, opening up an X-shaped slash, cutting deep into veiny flesh. ‘The Iristari are the last line against the dark, and I command the Iristari! I will not fall, until Per Tolith itself is broken!’

One sword shattered, fragments of metal bursting outwards, Iochia turning her head to avoid getting it in her eyes. The fragments peppered the creature’s flesh, hard enough to break the skin. The black veins were fat and thick now, and Iochia cut at one, the blade sliding off the tough knots of skin. But the creature’s face was distorted in pain, his belly now huge, so big it slowed him down. His eyes were wide now, jaw huge and distended, his breath coming in short and ragged pants.

‘Whatever you are, you deserve nothing but death. I don’t care what powers you’ve been given, all you are is a monster. No-one will miss you, no-one will care if you die. You’re a tool, and not even a good one.’ She stabbed with both swords, feeling them start to weaken, but thrusting into stretched and swollen face.

The thing’s face was warped and distorted, jaw dropping wide, dribble splashing out. Before the swords disintegrated, she lunged forward, slamming one into the thing’s throat, slicing through flesh and bone. They hacked and coughed, Iochia withdrawing and picking up a massive maul, an oversized metal head on a long shaft of wood. It was heavy, but she put her hips into it and twisted, spinning it around and slamming it, full-force, into their grotesquely warped belly.

It exploded, magical energy slamming outward, throwing her against the wall, all the other items racked up falling to the ground with clatters. But the creature was dead, half of it’s body blown away, so much damage that it couldn’t regenerate itself. And Stathis was alive! Even if probably somewhere far, far away.