Janaxia flung out her hand, conjuring up bolts of darkness. Their foe was fast, but Stathis was sure to beat them eventually! Especially with the aid of Semari and Vrintar. The darkness above was starting to fade, thin rays of light breaking through. Could this be it, the end of it all?

Stathis moved forward, metal clanging against metal, the strident tones of combat ringing out. If only they weren’t immune to her bolts! She launched another one, but it faded into nothing in contact with their skin. The Blade kept changing shapes, between different weapons, forcing everyone else onto the defensive, jabbing and sweeping. Semari and Vrintar were both bleeding from multiple cuts, scratched and wounded from the Blade, but pushing through the pain.

If they won here, then would Skotadi be returned? Would all this be over then? Vrintar and Semari were both injured, but Stathis was in her armour, shining and protected – surely she would be safe, able to vanquish this foe, as so had so many others? Metal clanged and screeched, Stathis gasping in pain.

Janaxia tried to move to a position where it was easier to see, throwing another bolt. She saw Stathis block an attack, the strength of the impact obvious, shaking through Stathis. Then the weapon changed back to it’s original form, huge and jagged. It moved in a large arc, cutting the air, and then thrust forward.

Time seemed to slow, Janaxia seeing Stathis’ face go pale, blood oozing from her mouth, the Blade shoved through her chest, having penetrated her armour. She staggered backwards, and Janaxia could see that shock and pain on her face, a gauntleted hand coming up to limply hold the oversized sword-hilt.

The wan rays of light faded, the darkness reasserting itself, the pale disk of the sun vanishing behind thicker shadows.

‘And so the light shall perish! Now I shall deal with you!’ They stretched, seeming to grow even larger, their skin stretching over muscles and bones, the writing on their body screaming dominion and chaos. Even without a weapon, they looked terrifying, their claws sharp and vicious, lunging forward to rake bloody furrows into Vrintar’s skin, not seeming to care about the axe-strike they received in exchange.

They stared at Janaxia, eyes abyss-black, their face dropping open in a fang-toothed grin. ‘Your soul shall be mine, foolish little daughter of the Uth Tremari. The weak, pretty little Janaxia, always forgotten, fit for nothing.’

Semari jumped at them from behind, two fingers curving up into the bottom of their ribcage, and their body stiffened up in sudden paralysis. Both Semari and Vrintar took full advantage of this, attacking full-out, bone and muscle tearing apart under the weight of their attacks. Heat slammed out from Vrintar, a desert-hot pulse of energy as the heat-haze around her warped the air, igniting clusters of dry grass, whipping up a fire.

Their neck cracked as Semari grabbed their head and twisted, spinning it around a full half-turn before letting go, their body starting to drop, Vrintar’s axe rising up and connecting with their chest, cutting them open. A torrent of thick black blood gushed out, splashing to the ground – within their chest cavity, Janaxia caught a glimpse of white crystal, the Bell now embedded within their body somehow.

Semari must have seen it as well, her hand flashing forward to grab at it, fingers curved into a grabbing claw.

Despite the black and shattered ruin of their chest, their hand moved, grabbing Semari’s wrist just before she was able to reach inside of them. The gash in their chest was already closing up, the curve of crystal being hidden from sight beneath flesh and bone.

Janaxia looked around, trying to spot a weapon or something she could use to fight with. If only she had more spells! Semari gasped in pain, followed by a loud crack, her own arm being broken, the bone jutting out from skin.

There was a gleam of light on the floor, near where Stathis had fallen, the hilt of the Blade high in the air. Her breastplate was broken, blood smeared across the metal, motes of light rising up from the wound, blinking away into nothing in the increasing darkness. The sun above had now all-but-vanished, the shadows gathering, cutting off Janaxia’s vision, and probably blinding the other two.

Semari twisted, despite her shattered arm still being grasped, managing to bring her foot slamming forward in a kick against their belly, pushing them away, somersaulting herself backwards, landing unevenly, her arm dangling at a painful looking angle. Vrintar attacked, as Janaxia started to run towards the Blade.

Their foe dodged the axe-strike, lunging forward and shoving spiked claws into Vrintar’s belly, slashing through her skin. There was another blast of heat, the fires spreading faster, some old timbers catching light, shedding flickering and vicious light, doing little to banish the shadows.

‘The Blade is mine! You are not it’s wielder!’ They tossed Vrintar aside, starting to run for the Blade themselves.

The shadows darkened, Janaxia hearing Skotadi’s voice, thin, pained and distant. Please… Help me. Help us!

She spoke a word, and the world shifted around her as she teleported herself forward, now standing next to the Blade, reaching out and grabbing it, feeling the soft leather of the grip, still warm with body-heat. She pulled it, Stathis’ hand sliding from the hilt, body gasping beneath her, more blood gushing out.

‘No! Give it back!’

The Blade slid clear, drawing out more motes of light as it slid out of Stathis’ chest, feeling light despite it’s ungainly size. Janaxia turned it, catching sight of strange, warped reflections along the metal, tormented faces moaning before vanishing. Was Stathis caught in there somehow? Would it be possible to get her out?

And then hunger, hot and raw, poured into her, a wave of weakness making her vision blur. But she couldn’t give in, not now! She swung it, trying to remember Stathis’ lessons, to guide with her wrists and keep her body stable, despite the size of the weapon.

Claws scratched against the metal, and she swung, pushing them back. Despite being far lighter than it should be, the thing did have mass, threatening to drag her forward. And that hunger! Desperate, pained, her stomach gurgling desperately. No wonder it was barely communicating!

‘Give. It! Back!’

Janaxia turned her chop into a curve, feeling the thing drag on her wrists, trying to open up space.

Could you perhaps be smaller? Or at least easier to use?

She heard a pained and desperate howl sounding in her mind, a force trying to conquer her will.

None of that! I appreciate that you have been mistreated, but there are more important matters right now.

The howling didn’t abate, as Janaxia gripped the hilt with both hands, angling her body to block another attack. When she pushed back, the Blade accentuated the motion, slamming out with great force, the grip now feeling more comfortable in her hand. Was this what Kinnevar had used, when he had conquered his empire?

The Blade made an inquisitive mewl. Had it picked up the name from her thoughts?

Yes, Kinnevar. Your old master. He fed you well, I understand? Perhaps we can go and see him? But only if we survive! And your siblings want to see you again, if we can get through this.

The edge of the Blade altered itself, becoming straighter-edged, more like a proper sword than a cracked and fragmented artefact.

Yes, that’s it! Help me, and then Stathis can save us, I’m sure!

Janaxia threw herself aside to avoid claw-lunges, swinging back with the Blade, although it didn’t connect.

‘You may have had the Book, but that is now mine! And the Blade shall return to me as well.’ They lunged forward, faster than Janaxia’s eye could follow, grabbing at the Blade. Their fingers bled down it, black blood staining the metal, soaking into it. The Blade started to get heavier, the natural weight of the thing reasserting itself before she could draw it back.

Don’t listen to them! You don’t have to do what others tell you to do!

The hunger was burrowing deeper and deeper into her, making her mouth dry, her vision wavering, even aside from the thickening darkness. She tried to move her feet into a “striking” stance, wanting to stay close to Stathis’ body, light still seeping from the wound in her chest, but there were no other signs of light

Please! Help me!

The Blade started to alter itself again, becoming a single-handed, single-edged, sword, like the weighting the same as the wooden ones she was used to. Janaxia flicked it to the side, feeling satisfaction as it cut through fingers, the flesh offering slight resistance.

Semari surged up, one arm still limp but colliding with a kick, sending them staggering forward. Janaxia lunged, cutting across their chest, trying to stab into them, but they twisted away, leaving them with nothing more than another cut. Was it healing more slowly than other wounds? They raked at Semari, leaving more deep furrows bleeding into her ragged shirt before leaping at Janaxia.

She tried to slice at them, but they were too fast, moving around her attack, coming up close towards her. Janaxia stumbled backwards, feet knocking against Stathis’ body, trying to get the Blade back into a defensive position. They hissed, breath rank and charnel, before grabbing her by the throat, nails digging into her skin, holding her up.

‘Worthless whelp! For all the work you’ve put me through… The weakest of your blood. Poratia should have had you killed long ago.’ Their grip tightened, choking Janaxia, sparks dancing in front of her eyes. She struggled, managing to raise the Blade, before they grabbed her wrist with their other hand, bending it backwards. Her bones creaked, muscles tearing, before the weapon slid from her hand, dropping down, transforming back into its original size, heavy enough to stab into the ground.

Janaxia was cast aside, slamming to the ground, landing on rubble, desperately trying to breath, her wrist not moving, throbbing with fierce pain. It was an effort of will to drag herself upwards, barely able to stand.

‘And so the light dies!’

The Blade came down, still in its true form, stabbing into Stathis’ body, slicing straight through their armour.

‘No!’ Janaxia landed heavily, on one shoulder, feeling something crack inside her body, her head knocking against the ground, dazing her for a moment. The sight of Stathis, laying there, the blade shoved through her body, made her feel sick, but surely Stathis would pull through? Somehow?

The Blade was wrenched, slicing deeper into Stathis, screeching as it cut metal. The only light now was a tiny gleam, captured by the shining edge of the Blade, warm light dimming and turning cold.

Janaxia spoke again, warping over into the space above them. She wrapped her arms around them, as tightly as possible, their body rough and hot. She could feel their scars against her skin, ridges hard against her body. She dug her nails in, feeling them bend, one snapping, although the pain seemed irrelevant.

‘Get off her!’

They let go of the Blade, a clawed hand coming up and digging sharp claws into Janaxia’s shoulder, gouging deep and bloody scratches into her skin. The pain was hot and urgent, but Janaxia didn’t let go, wrapping her legs around them as well, trying to keep them under control.

Even on their shoulders, she didn’t stop their movement much. The claws dug into her skin, pushing apart muscles, tearing through her body, but she couldn’t stop! She fumbled for their throat, another nail breaking off against their skin. How did Semari make this look so easy? Even wrenching her body around didn’t seem to phase them, the hand still twisting and spearing into her.

‘Let her go!’ She didn’t even want to think about Stathis’ body, desecrated by the Blade. Through the haze of pain, she reached deep into herself, pulling up reserves of energy, and warping upwards.

They were suddenly in the air, hurtling downwards. Janaxia tried to twist, keeping herself on top, before they hit the ground.

The impact hurt, the fingers thrusting even deeper into her body, a deep wound, blood oozing out, the flow getting faster and faster. They twisted up from beneath her, grabbing her with the other hand as well, claws penetrating into her side, a fierce spear of pain, her vision flashing red.

Semari and Vrintar both charged, although looked drained and exhausted. The hand twisted inside of her, making her gasp in pain as it slid out, feeling blood, hot and heavy, gush out, sticking her clothing to her body.

Janaxia tried to hold on, but felt her grip slipping, as she was wrenched aside and thrown through the air, her senses reeling before she smashed to the floor. The pain made it hard to focus, but she could see Stathis’ body, the Blade still stuck through her. Janaxia’s head reeled, her senses taking long seconds to return to her control. She turned her head to see Vrintar fold over, a hand thrust through her torso, claw-fingers slick with blood. Semari tried to punch them, but her arm was grabbed, the limb twisted with a forceful snap, savagely breaking bone, the shattered fragment blood and wet, sticking out from flesh. Semari’s face was grey with pain, but she didn’t stop fighting, trying to kick back.

Semari’s kick slammed into their chest, breaking ribs, their shattered bones already healing, as they slapped back, sending Semari flying through the air. Janaxia scrabbled aside, avoiding being crushed beneath them, Semari landing heavily, without immediately flipping to her feet, just groaning in pain.

Janaxia managed to scrabble to her feet, despite the pain lancing through her body. She hurt all over, blood scabbing and crusting over her, sticking her clothing to her skin. But she couldn’t stop! Could she reach the Blade again?

There was a snarl, and then a weight crashed into her, claw-marks searing down her back. She fell to the ground again, feeling their weight atop her. The Blade seemed even darker now, the metal crack-edged and obsidian-black, the light from Stathis completely gone.