Eirawen had been transformed into Eisa’s final Champion only a few short days before the man known as the Betrayer by some, the Liberator by others, announced to those who could hear that the tyranny of the False Gods was over.

Though she was thousands of miles away, in a land the man had never set foot on, Eirawen knew the truth of his words, even if she never heard them herself. Eisa, the Goddess of Winter and Strength, was dead.

The girl was taciturn by nature. Her sluggish elven blood demanded development at a pace completely different than her human half. Humans lived, thrived, and died in less than a century. An elf had twice the lifespan; there was plenty of time to learn things as they interested her.

But now the flame of divinity beat within her breast, and her immortal, nearly indestructible nature had only deepened that apathy. In the three hundred years since her ascension, her parents had died, her siblings had died, their children were so much dust and ash with nobody to remember their names.

In a meaningless world with no Goddess to guide her, what relevance could there be?

She’d marched across lands tirelessly, across mountains, deserts, lakes and rivers and even the oceans, drawn like an iron filing to a magnet she could sense but could not understand. Her purposeless existence held purpose, though one she wasn’t conscious of. Something drew her across continents and oceans to plant herself in front of a giant of a man, a man that so resembled her father, and swear her sword to his cause.

Life was for the strong. Without her gifts, he would have broken her a thousand times over. Daveth was a man worthy of life. More, he was worthy of her respect. In a century, no one would even remember his name, but she would. He was determined to live.

Thus, after thinking such things, she opened her eyes.

She lay on a beach of pure white sand, her booted feet resting in the water. A tiny creature no bigger than her palm scuttled sideways away from her.

How had she come to be here?

Ah. She remembered as she sat up, unconsciously brushing sand from her armor. She’d been blown into a teleportation circle that the undead blasphemy had created.

“Finally awake.” A musical voice observed. She turned her head; a young woman with two horns sprouting from her forehead regarded her with a syrupy, languid smile from her perch on a twisted, low hanging branch of some tree she wasn’t familiar with.

The horned girl reclined in a supine position on the branch and took a long drink from some rounded drinking container bound in ropes.

“Tell me... are you as strong as you dream yourself to be?” The girl asked curiously, running a pointed tongue across her fangs.

“Why do you care?” Eirawen asked, rising to her feet.

The girl smiled seductively. “I too am a Champion. Shall we see which of us is stronger?”

Humans and elves needed a reason to fight. She was a Champion, there was no explanation or justification needed for what they did.

*****

Not many had survived the undead’s onslaught. Daveth took small consolation in that most of his losses came from prospective members of the Seventh Seal only so far as to grieve that much more. When they finally left this land, they would have been full fledged brothers and sisters in arms.

“We should destroy everything we can.” One of Audra’s scouts reported. Daveth gave him a quizzical look as he stuffed a tattered white cloth into one of his bags as he picked over the bones, looking for useful things.

“Why’s that?” Daveth asked.

“I’ve heard that an undead stores his soul in things like gems, pendants, things of that nature. If we don’t destroy it, the soul will craft itself a new body and his dark work will begin yet again.”

Daveth froze, hands inches away from a small pile of gold and gems.

“You’re certain of this?” He asked curiously. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

The scout nodded emphatically.

“Fine. No looting. Burn everything. And when we get out of here, I’ll...” He trailed off. He was bone-weary. Could he hope to accomplish the feat Eirawen did? “I’ll do what I can.” he finished lamely. “Get everyone out.”

As the room emptied, Daveth wondered how he’d collapse such a chamber. The walls were built solidly.

The thundering crack of cannonfire jerked him out of his concentration; dust sifted down from a crack in the wall. He immediately ducked out of the room and ran down the long hall as the support column crumpled and broke.

He stepped out in the sun and he was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of refreshment and rejuvenation. The air was thick and humid and threatened to choke him with its moisture-laden humidity, but the sun beat down, the air was filled with a rich sense of being alive that didn’t exist before.

He looked up towards the rim of the crater; Aldric stood there with his files, and waved another volley from the cannon.

“You look like shit.” Aldric observed wryly.

“You look just like how I feel.” Daveth returned.

“I’m given to understand we’re to level the place?” Aldric asked, and Daveth nodded and passed on what the scout told him.

“Mmm. Not far removed from what I was taught, too. All right.” He raised his voice. “Men, plant charges. Ready the cannons.”

“We’ve got more than one, now?” Daveth asked.

“Only one really suited for this job, really. The other two are more anti-personnel guns. I reforged them from that rusted mess we found earlier into two smaller, lighter models.” He eyed Daveth from his perch atop his horse. “I daresay you could probably pick one up if you were daring enough to try.”

Daveth shook his head.

“By the way, i don’t see Eirawen.”

Daveth shook his head at that. He didn’t have the words to explain what happened.

“To think even Champion of the False Gods would meet her end here, of all places.” Aldric mused thoughtfully.

“How did she die?”

Daveth barked a dry laugh that was partly a sob as the barrage from the cannons continued.

“She died well.” Daveth replied.

Aldric thumbed his chin. “With the loss of our recruits, that brings our effective fighting strength down to three hundred, give or take.”

Daveth frowned at that. “We lost a quarter of our troops and all you can think of is profit?”

Aldric raised an eyebrow. “We are mercenaries, Daveth."

The keep exploded in a shower of stone fragments and dust.

A skull formed in the cloud that hung over the mist, it’s jaw working in soundless, mocking laughter.

The winds tugged the laughing skull into shreds of dust until nothing hung over the area but a haze.

“What I would give for one of the Old Gods to consecrate this place so that bastard never returns.” Aldric mused.

“You like the idea of having your soul eaten when you die?” Audra asked curiously as she brought Daveth’s massive warhorse to him.

Aldric frowned at that. The Anglish Goddess had promised them an afterlife of well deserved rest, a land of endlessly rolling green hills, an eternal spring. What they found, however, was that she was devouring the souls that had been consecrated in her name, tearing them from the natural cycle of death and rebirth and turning them into a snack. To the False Gods, souls were a snack, faith a heady drug.

...or so the Betrayer had proclaimed before bringing the War of Liberation.

“Besides, the jungle will reclaim this place soon enough. The monster is gone.” Audra finished.

I’d very much like to believe so. Daveth thought to himself.

*****

“This... heat is killing me.... Commander.” Stronghammer gasped. His face was slick with sweat, dripping from his eyebrows, the point of his nose and his chin.

Daveth chuckled knowingly. “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.” He replied, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He glanced back at the procession that was moving slowly.

Everyone was feeling the heat, and they moved dispiritedly. The air was thick with moisture and pressed down on everyone heavily. Daveth scanned through the people in his ranks and picked out Audra. She was busy mopping her face with a kerchief. He chuckled at that, but compressed his lips together. He wouldn’t give in to the heat.

He frowned suddenly, twisting back around to face front. Was there something up ahead? the chatter of the birds seemed to hush.

As they rounded the bend, he drew up short. Standing in the middle of the rutted track was a cat-type beastman, so heavily feline it had no human features to speak of, yet stood upright.

It- she, Daveth corrected himself. She was heavily furred, yet the heat didn’t seem to touch her at all. She wore boarwood and cloth armor and she stood in the middle of the road, several spears planted point-up in the dirt close at hand.

Daveth raised his hand and shouted over his shoulder, “Halt!”

The two eyed each other, Daveth atop his golem horse, the cat from her position in the road. The cat person was lanky, with disproportionately large ears. Her pale fur grew out from her in feathery tufts from her head and neck, sweeping back, manelike. Her eyes were a bold blue-green and regarded him without fear.

“I would challenge you, man-thing.” she announced, and flexed her knobby fingers.

“Challenge me?” Daveth asked wonderingly. Her head tilted a little, a smug expression seemed to play about her mouth.

“You are a warrior, are you not?” She inquired, and gestured at her spears, at the long bone knife at her hip. “As am I. A test, then, to see which among us is stronger.”

Aldric pulled up beside Daveth. “Why did you call a halt? We’re not stopping for another few hours yet.”

The catwoman glanced at Aldric dismissively.

“A test of strength is it?” Daveth asked. “Or am I to kill you?”

She took the knife from her belt and tossed it to the side. “Do not let my unarmed state fool you, man-thing. I can still kill you.”

Aldric frowned at the cat woman and glanced at Daveth, who was dismounting. “You’re going to fight her?” He asked. “Unarmed? That’s stupid. Let Audra put an arrow through her heart. We’re wasting time.”

“This won’t take long, Aldric. Besides, the heat is driving everyone bugshit.”

“That’s what I’m saying, it’s driving me bugshit. The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”

Daveth shucked his jacket and tossed it indifferently over the seat of his saddle.

“You’re challenging me, right? Feet and fists?” Daveth asked, and the catwoman nodded.

“To the death?” Daveth asked, and the woman laughed. “You can’t kill me if you tried, but for your sake, I will be lenient and will stop if you fall unconscious.”

Daveth took off his shirt and settled his feet, taking a breath and letting it out slowly.

The beast blurred forward, her foot flickering out lightning quick to strike at his knee, his waist, and chest. Daveth rocked back, and threw a punch; she caught it, stepped up on his knee and kicked him in the face, leaping and twisting in the air to land lightly on her feet.

Daveth ran a hand down his face and grimaced at the blood on his palm. Her feet were clawed. Her strikes were nearly surgical and they hurt, but none of them were debilitating in themselves. She’d probably whittle him down and drop him, or provoke him into making a mistake she could exploit.

She lunged forward again, hands blurring, fists striking at chest and waist, legs apart to keep her balanced. When Daveth countered her attack, she blocked his strikes, and jumped into the air and planted her feet in his chest and pushed off. Daveth stumbled back as she rolled and flipped to her feet. She lunged forward a third time and Daveth reached out and grabbed her arm. She let out a cackle, and launched herself up, kicking at his face. Daveth twisted his head to the side, and scooped her up into the air and held her over his head before hurling her to the ground. She hit the ground on her side so hard she bounced and let out a cry of pain.

Daveth glanced uneasily at the trees. “You should tell your friends in the trees to back off.” Daveth warned, and the cat rolled lithely to her feet.

She wiped blood from her mouth and she flexed her left arm experimentally. “Impressive, human.” She admitted grudgingly. “Once more.” She took her stance, and Daveth frowned. He’d seen her do this before. She lashed out a brutal spear kick, catching him just below the sternum. Daveth stumbled back, coughing, as she whirled and settled into her stance. He nodded as he rubbed his chest. He’d seen it before.

She was using some form of martial arts he hadn’t seen before, a style with mixed stances but focused on lightning blows with hands and feet. Daveth knew a little about martial arts; he’d taken a few lessons from a wandering monk who traveled with the Seventh Seal for a short time.

Likely she was modifying her attacks because he was so much taller than she was used to fighting. The shots to his upper chest and the step up off his knee were proof of that. Daveth moved forward and she immediately responded by racing forward with a shuffling step. Her foot blurred forward in lightning-fast attacks that Daveth tried to ignore as he moved forward. She leapt off the ground and grabbed his head, her knee smashing into his cheek as he turned his head at the last second. Daveth grabbed her again and hurled her to the ground a second time. This time she hit the ground on her back. All of her breath left her body in one explosive breath. Daveth stepped forward and drove his fist into her gut, pulling the punch at the last second. She curled up like a bug stuck with a pin, vomiting weakly as she turned on her side. She shuddered and went limp. Daveth stepped back and grabbed his shirt and mopped his face.

“I was a little worried we’d have to pick up you up in pieces, Daveth.” Aldric remarked briefly. “She was so fast I couldn’t see many of her strikes.”

Daveth nodded, rubbing his chest. “She’s wicked fast, Aldric.”

“How did you see them?” Aldric asked, and Daveth shook his head.

“He didn’t see them.” A low voice, cool and husky. Aldric twisted on his horse. “Come again?” He asked. Alysia spoke up again, quietly. “He didn’t see them. He accepted that he couldn’t see them, and so he took them, expecting an opening that he could exploit.”

Aldric raised his eyebrows. This was the one of the rare times Alysia had volunteered anything complimentary of her own volition.

“Is that right, Daveth? Does she have the way of things?” He asked, and Daveth nodded. “Pretty much. There was no way I could match her speed, Aldric. It was all I could do grapple with her like that.”

The girl twitched.

“You awake?” Daveth asked, feigning a casual tone he didn’t feel. He hurt in ways he hadn’t expected to feel.

She coughed a little and spat blood.

“You’ve bested me, human.” She said with a groan.

“So what was the point of all this?” He asked, and she grinned up at him. “I wished to test your strength.” She replied.

“To what end?” He asked, and she laughed at him weakly, mockingly. She crawled over to the spears she had planted in the dirt, and used one to haul herself up to her feet.

“You pulled your punch, didn’t you?” She asked.

“Can’t ask a corpse questions.” He replied, massaging his cheek. She nodded.

“There will be answers soon enough, human. This was a test.”