FrivYeti/CalinPg26
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Reverga stepped from the cave, looking around, and shook his head slowly. Throngs of hobgoblins filled the hilltop, and standing at their head was Juriakar, with Lysadara standing at his side. Reverga raised an eyebrow, and nodded to his old enemy.
"Well, well, it seems you haven't tried to flee after all." Juriakar's smile was vicious. "Is something the matter, Reverga? Finally given up on your life?"
"In a matter of speaking, Juri." Reverga smiled at the flash of anger that crossed his foe's face, and continued. "I suppose it's a nice enough army that you've gathered, but you never thought things through properly." He shook his head sadly, and sighed. "You may be a master of the Staff and Sword, but I am a disciple of Hirado." As he spoke, he raised one hand, cupped as though holding a liquid, and the wind began to swirl around him, whistling into a ball of tightly packed air in his hand.
"Ah, your precious Pentacle." Juriakar chuckled, his poise restored. "There is no fate in the Wyld, you foolish being. The Pentacle Grace has no purpose of use to our kind." He glanced around, and raised a hand. "The power of My army and the rule of My hand is the only true power in this world. Your Cup is weak, and your Pentacle pathetic." He smirked.
"Really, Juriakar? You shouldn't be so dismissively. It is Hirado that has led me here today. You see, I saw the fate-within-choice of our paths leading to today. I might have fled, but I would do so at the cost of my Oath and my hope. Instead, by remaining, I have sealed your own doom. You will die, 'Lord' Jurikar." He grinned, and let the ball of air fly forwards. Jurikar raised his sword to defend himself, only to see an image projected before him.
A red-haired young man, dressed in the light armour of the city in the valley, with a gleaming golden spear in one hand, stood in the centre hallway of the great freehold. Beside him, a young woman, blond with green eyes, skin pale in the filtered light of the hold's crystal ceiling, a simple peasant by appearance, but with steel in her heart. On the other, a young man, green flecks around his eyes and running down his neck, clad from head to toe in green jade and with a long powerbow strung and ready to fire. And behind the three, another young woman, with animal eyes and silver on her skin, her arm raised to crush his hold's heart.
As he gasped, Reverga continued, amusement in his voice. "Do you see it, Juriakar? No one else does. These four young Exalts will prove your death, if you continue to walk the path of conquest. Turn aside. Make a new fate with your choices, and leave this place forever." He raised both his arms, almost in supplication. "The choice is yours. The Pentacle Grace has seen your fate within this choice. Your only options are to advance or retreat."
Juriakar snarled, raising his own sword. "You are a fool and a charlatan, Reverga. I will forge a new choice. I will simply kill these Exalts, one by one to prevent them from aligning against Me. And you will be the first to die. Do you think to frighten Me?" He laughed, looking back at his forces. Beside him, Lysadara lowered her eyes. "No Grace will determine My movements, Reverga. My moment is at hand." He lowered the sword in a single, vicious sweep. "Destroy him!"
With a roar of joy and anger, the hobgoblins swarmed up the hillside, and Reverga shook his head sadly. He raised his hands again, and the wind swirled around them. Shards of wind, solid as knives, flew from him, spreading outwards in an arc towards the advancing horde, and hobgoblins fell by the score, blood staining the rock in arcane patterns. The wind continued to swirl as Reverga leapt, flattening the grass and whispering through the trees. As he came downwards, his hands curled into fists, and he punched straight through the heads of two hobgoblins. He laughed, once, as the goblins swirled in confusion. His hands moved like a conducter's, and the wind followed, twisting from its assigned purposes to strike as the storm brewed overhead. Lightning, blue-white and green, struck downwards, and where it struck, hobgoblins fell, changing even as they died into small shrubs and flowering bushes. Juriakar narrowed his eyes, watching, and knocked a bolt aside, sending it slamming into the rock, sprouting grass in its wake.
The hobgoblins continued to charge, as the storm built, and they continued to die, but they began to reach Reverga, and he was soon embroiled in furious combat. Ducking, spinning, he was a figure of grace surrounded by darkness, silver and green dancing through the evening. Sunlight glinted off his silken clothes, spattered with the blood of his enemy, and for a time, watching from the safety of the cave, Lani thought, just for a moment, that he might make his escape.
But the ending was a foregone conclusion. Reverga was powerful, but even he could not be everywhere at once, and he finally faltered enough for a blow to land. Crystal blood sprayed, staining the axe, and Reverga faltered, just for a moment. It was enough for Juriakar, who grinned an evil grin and leapt forwards into the fray. His sword moved like fear itself, flashing through the shadows cast by the setting sun and striking, again and again. Reverga fought with equal ferocity, his own sword gleaming against the night, but he found himself distracted by hobgoblins, as Juriakar tossed them into his path, used them as distractions and shields, let them take blows aimed for him instead of standing firm. Although hobgoblins died by the dozens, and Juriakar even took one grim-looking wound across his chest, Reverga was soon spattered with his own blood, mingling with that of his foes across his skin in a patchwork of death.
And then, finally, Juriakar slipped his sword through Reverga's guard, and brought it curving forwards. The sword plunged through Reverga's chest, and the Fair Folk lord staggered backwards, coughing. Juriakar withdrew his head and spun, in a single, elegant motion, slicing Reverga's head from his shoulders. He smiled, as his enemy fell slowly. "And so it ends, Reverga. Where are your precious beliefs now?" He laughed, his voice ringing out over the valley. "I am the victor here. None shall stand against me!" He turned back, with a lighthearted laugh. "Come here, Lysadara, and see the corpse of your former master."
"My Lord." Lysadara walked up to Juriakar, her eyes downcast. "You are my only master." She looked out over the assembled hobgoblins. "My Lord, you have won here, but Reverga took a toll. Almost four hundred hobgoblins lie dead or forever transformed; Reverga's magics were devastating against them..."
"Silence." Juriakar waved his hand imperiously, with a grin. "It matters not. Thirty-two hundred, twenty-eight hundred. I have enough hobgoblins, and I will forge five thousand more from the souls of Calin. This was merely the prequel." His grin wide enough to swallow the world, he turned. "Send messages to Goras and Takash. We will march on Calin. Reverga made a mistake, the fool. I now know the faces of my enemies, and I will destroy them before they unite." He chuckled, and started to stride down the mountain. "Forwards, my minions. We attack tonight!"
Lysadara did not immediately join him. Instead, she watched him march away, the hobgoblins following like ants, and sighed. Turning back, she knelt over Reverga, taking his severed head in her hands. She noted his serene smile with a sad one of her own, tears glittering in the corners of her eyes. A moment later, she bent down, kissing the dead lord on the forehead before setting his head down on the ground once again. She remained that way for a few seconds, her eyes closed, dripping tears onto the body of the man she had called master, mentor, and friend.
After that, she spoke. "You should probably just kill me now."
"Now you're acting like an idiot." Lani stepped out of the shadows, shaking her head. "I have no quarrel with you, Lysadara, although I didn't understand that until today. Why didn't you just explain?"
"It is not our way." Lysadara stood, slowly, turning to face the Lunar. She took in the rainbow armor that Lani wore, and nodded slowly. "If I leave here, I must tell Juriakar what I saw."
"Tell him, then." Lani smiled, suddenly, ruthlessly. "He thinks that killing Reverga is enough? There is more than one Exalt in this valley." She advanced, and Lysadara, despite her earlier determination to follow Reverga into nonexistance, found herself taking a step backwards. "Tell him that Lani Wildwalker has taken up the challenge." She smiled, a smile without a trace of amusement or joy. "And tell him that he will pay for what he has done."
There was a pause, and then Lysadara nodded. "I will tell him." She paused, looking back at Reverga. "I'm sorry, Wildwalker."
"Not half as sorry as Juriakar is going to be." Turning, Lani leapt into the air, transforming into a sparrow, and began to fly southwards, racing to reach Calin ahead of the advancing hordes.
