“So he’s dead?”

“It’s too early to tell,” his sister said. “He might just being laying low after losing much of his associates.”

“So either someone took the joy of stomping on his skull from me,” Chardis observed bitterly, “Or he holed up in some miser’s bolthole to die of age.”

“Again, dear brother, it’s too early to tell,” Syl replied with a vicious smile. “He proved to be resourceful and obstinate. Those qualities might come to our advantage.”

Chardis kept striding in circles around her sister, literally fuming under the Amphiseum’s artificial sun. Just when they had regained some semblance of their twice-lost godhood, the promise of revenge on one of their most detested enemies had apparently been denied to-

A twitch in the aether stopped him dead in his tracks. The twins looked into each other’s eyes, uncertainty rearing its ugly head. Syl raised her hands to cast a divination spell, but a bubble of blue light appeared around her instead, and an indistinct figure started fading into vision right behind her.

As a single person, Chardis summoned his sword and Syl turned to face the intruder, a killing spell already blossoming in her hands. The intruder – a black-eyed vedalken – summoned a large hourglass between their hands, and Syl seemed to freeze, her spell sputtering out.

“Sister!” Chardis flung a flame javelin at the vedalken’s head, but the bubble absorbed it. The hovering hourglass started to slowly upend itself, the impossibly fine sand within flowing with a tiny but mind-grating screech. A contented smile slowly formed on the vedalken’s face. Syl’s fingers twitched.

“Jack will be with you shortly,” the vedalken said with cheerful politeness.

Out of sheer instinct Chardis turned, deflecting the incoming bolt and smashing the mounted arbalest that had fired it with a single spell. He looked around, but the attacker was nowhere to be seen. Well, he didn’t have to see his enemies to incinerate them.

Chardis let out an earth-shaking explosion, its hellish roar announcing the fiery beast he was about to summon. Half a dozen small showers of red-hot splinters hinted at the previous existence of thopters, but more importantly, the barreling shockwave revealed a figure kneeling with both hands on the ground, the runes on its armor sizzling in the effort of neutralizing the oppressive heat.

Chardis’ lips parted in a predatory grin, which wilted as he felt the shaking of the earth beneath him increase rapidly. He dove to his left, barely dodging the giant metallic wurm emerging in a fountain of stone, and rolled to his feet, seething with rage. They would pay dearly for ruining the Amphiseum. He reached for his summon and threw the spell at the three-headed wurm with a furious scream.

The air between Chardis and the wurm seemed to erupt lava in all directions, filling a titanic horned humanoid shape. The fiend’s surface solidified into thick plates of rock, blue arcs of electricity sparking from its joints, and the beast bellowed a fiery challenge to the smaller wurm. The wurm went straight for the fiend’s head. The fiend’s fist punched one of the wurm’s heads clean off, but the metallic creature parted into three smaller wurms, one of which collapsed listlessly – and headlessly – to the ground. The surviving wurms bit into the fiend’s legs, forcing it into its knees. The fiend swatted one away, but the wurm appeared undamaged. The other one sprung like a snake, flying through the fiend’s neck like it offered no resistance. After a moment of tense stillness, the fiend’s body collapsed on the ground, its severed head rolling in the wurm-made hole with a wet noise.

Chardis snarled and leveled his sword at the approaching wurms. Dozens of supercharged lightnings fountained from its point, each plunging into metal with shattering force. The wurms were turned into twin cascades of fuming rings by the electric onslaught.

His warrior’s instincts saved him for the second time, deflecting the giant-sized axe above him with his red-hot sword, but his weapon’s blade broke in half. Chardis jumped back to avoid the next swing of the armored giant, retaliating with enough blastfire to turn both armor and weapon into metal scraps twice over. The giant charged unperturbed right through the inferno, weapon liquefying in their hand. Was Jack within the armor, his protective runes somehow blocking the fire from within? Chardis magically increased his own size to rival his foe’s and summoned another sword.

The half-melted axe flowed into the shape of a halberd in mid-swing. Chardis parried easily, but the giant whirled the halberd over his head with surprising speed and went for a downward slash to Chardis’ unprotected head. Chardis had to block the attack with his armored left arm, and rolled with the hit to gain distance. Still, moving his left forearm made his teeth clench. It had been a while since someone had been able to crack one of Chardis’ bones, and even now that someone charged to make sure he didn’t have the time to heal himself. The pyromancer barely had the time to cast a quick celerity spell on himself before his foe was on him.

Chardis dodged a lunge, channeled destructive energy in his sword and brought it down on the halberd’s shaft, shattering it. He stepped forward as the broken weapon remade itself, hitting the armored giant with enough strength to bend any metal, but the blade just bounced. A gauntlet caught him in the temple before he could retreat. Chardis reflexively throw a fire bolt to his foe’s face to blind him as he recovered and retreated. How could mere metal be immune to both rock-vaporizing heat and shattering force?

Then he noticed the dark hue of his foe’s grieves, and that the golden motes dancing around the metal weren’t caused by his fire. Darksteel! Chardis stuck his sword in the ground and clapped his hands together. The giant tossed the regenerating weapon upwards, which turned into a spear at the top of its arc. A column of light hit the darksteel armor, making it disappear. Jack – whose armor now sported completely different runes - fell from its chest, snatching his javelin from the air before he hit the ground.

Jack threw the javelin. Chardis could dodge it, but a hunch made him widen his stance and cast the most powerful defensive spell he knew. The javelin liquefied in midair, turning into a barbed wire net big enough to envelop the whole shield. As Chardis feverishly considered his options, Jack summoned some kind of rifle and leveled it at Chardis’ heart. The next moment, a group of bird-headed constructs dove into the remains of the arbalest and started putting it back together. Then a three-armed metallic scarecrow appeared, whirling its staff high above its head, and the pieces of the ruined wurms rolled toward each other.

A wave of blue light washed harmlessly over Chardis’ shield from behind him, swiftly expanding in Jack’s direction and making each artifact it touched vanish into thin air. Jack himself disappeared for a split second, reappearing on the other side of the wave with the black-eyed vedalken at his side, but Chardis didn’t care. He just dropped his shield and reached back.

“Let’s crush them,” Chardis drawled, a weary but ferocious smile on his lips. Syl’s only reply was her hand joining his.

The twins’ mana flared violently.

“I’m not afraid of you, Beryl.”

Beryl’s lips curled into a little smile, one that on anybody else, talking to anybody else, might have almost been cruel. “You should be, Aloise. Here, today, for this? You should be very afraid of me.”

Aloise hopped down from the ledge upon which she had been sitting and walked over to Beryl, staring her directly in her eye. “Maybe it’s you who should be afraid of me today, Beryl.”

Beryl shook her head. “I haven’t lost yet, you know. Undefeated, all the way to the finals. If that doesn’t worry you…”

“I’m no slouch, either, you know!” Aloise interrupted. “You said it yourself: this is the finals. I deserve to be here just as much as you do.”

“If this were a single elimination tournament, I’d be champion right now. You would have been eliminated in round one.”

“That’s not fair! I had to face Dorn. He’s a lot bigger than I am, and…”

“I beat him,” Beryl said coldly. “And if he beat you…” She trailed off, letting her words hang there. She took a small step forward so that her nose and Aloise’s were but a sheet of paper’s width away from touching. “Be afraid of me, Aloise. I will win this tournament.”

Aloise narrowed her eyes ominously. “Over my dead body.”

Just then, the door opened and the page walked in. “It’s time.”

Aloise and Beryl turned to look at the paper elemental, and then simply nodded. They turned to follow him toward the arena, shoving each other gently, trying to be the first one out the door.

Several minutes later, the two women stood in the darkened arena, staring at one another from across the way. Then a loud voice boomed. “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to…The Final Match!”

A round of boisterous applause erupted from the crowd surrounding them, but neither Aloise nor Beryl acknowledged them. They merely stared at one another, each trying to psych out the other. Above and around them, the voice continued, bringing the din of the crowd down to a low murmur.

“Introducing first, in the Red corner, the undefeated Flame Fatale, Beryl Trevanei!” A magical spotlight shone around Beryl, who for a long minute did nothing. Then, suddenly, she cracked a confident smirk and, in a dramatic action, raised her right arm and gave the crowd a thumbs up. The crowd once again erupted in cheers and applause directed at the odds-on favorite for the fight.

“And her opponent, in the white corner, that plucky underdog, the Indefatigable Illuminator, Aloise Hartley!” A second spotlight came on to show Aloise, who, wanting to show up Beryl, did a quick pirouette. When she was facing Beryl again, she stuck out both arms and, to one-up Beryl, gave two thumbs up. The crowd went nuts.

“Ladies, please move into the circle!” A third spotlight lit up the battle circle that was positioned directly between the two women. Beryl and Aloise both walked forward, their own spotlights following them until they merged with the center, and Aloise and Beryl were once again face to face.

“Combatants, please join hands!”

Both women reached out and locked fingers, neither one willing to relinquish the slightest advantage. Each tried to pull their hand away slightly, but the other would not let them. The entire time, they continued to stare at each other, barely willing to blink. After a few tense moments, the voice spoke one final time.

“Ladies, the arena is yours! When you are prepared, begin!”

Beryl nodded, and a moment later, Aloise nodded as well. Then, in unison, they yelled out, “One! Two! Three! Four! I declare a Thumb War!”

Beryl began by thrusting her thumb directly into Aloise’s, knocking it back slightly. The attack had the desired effect, however, as Aloise over-corrected and lunged forward in an attempt to pin Beryl. Anticipating the move, Beryl slipped her thumb to her left and brought it up around Aloise’s. This surprised the other woman, leading to a quick two-count, but Aloise escaped. She then went on the defensive as Beryl started expending energy trying to maneuver around Aloise.

Aloise made a quick feign to Beryl’s left and Beryl went for it, so Aloise was able to slip around under Beryl’s thumb and make a pin attempt. Beryl could have tried to escape to her left, which would have been easier, but instead, she brought her thumb over to her right. This surprised Aloise, who applied more downward pressure to stop her. This backfired, though, because when Beryl’s thumb escaped, Aloise’s thumb pressed itself into their clasped hands, and Beryl moved on top of it, nearly scoring the pin. Aloise escaped by pulling her thumb straight back, and there was a slight pop when she did.

“Ouch!” Aloise exclaimed. “My knuckle!”

Sudden concern came into Beryl’s eye. “Are you alright?”

Aloise had her thumb as far back as she could, and she bent her head down a bit to look at it. Beryl, watching, allowed her thumb to go slightly limp as she looked on in concern. Aloise, with a sudden and devious smile, took advantage, and quickly covered Beryl’s thumb. Caught off-guard by the diversion, Beryl nearly lost, but still retained enough strength to pull her thumb away.

The fighting was fierce after that. There were countless pin attempts and an equal number of kick-outs, and as the match wore on, the crowd became more and more excited. They soon became thoroughly convinced that each pin attempt would be the one to end the match and determine the new champion, and each kick-out amazed them at the strength and skill of the combatants. The crowd divided itself in half, with one side cheering for the Indefatigable Illuminator and the other side for the fiery Flame Fatale.

The action was getting hotter and hotter, but unfortunately, so was Beryl’s hand. Finally, Aloise could not take it anymore, and when her thumb slipped off of Beryl’s and touched the side of the pyromancer’s hand, she winced and drew back. The surprise allowed Beryl to lurch forward, hook Aloise’s thumb, and hold it down. The voice around them yelled out the count: “One! Two!...Three!!!” The crowd lost their minds as the two women finally let go of one another and Beryl held up her thumb in triumph.

When the crowd’s noise had died down a bit, Aloise approached Beryl. “You cheated!”

“Oh, and you didn’t?” Beryl retorted.

Aloise sulked. “Fine. Congratulations, Champ. But you better believe I’ll be practicing all year for the rematch!”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Beryl said. “And don’t worry. You have the best sparring partner in the Multiverse!”

Aloise stuck out her tongue. Then, in order to be gracious in defeat, kissed the champion.

Ungar tapped his cane on the ground, and the four demons stopped harassing the sacrifices. Khoramex was the last to take flight, a faint frown on his angular face. He was the oldest and most cunning - thus the more resilient to mind control - but his power would have been critical for the ritual, and breaking his mind could cripple it. Ungar took a mental note to dent the demon’s mind a bit later, not enough to maim his intellect but enough to leave a few holds to better leash him.

There was no time for that now. It was the time to leave the third mark on the plane, needed to prepare its soul for Their fecundation. Ungar nodded, and each of the four demons cast half a thousand webbed, lightning-like strings of dark energy, each one piercing through one of the chained sacrifices in the square. The sacrifices let out a chorus of agonizing screams as their souls burned, necromantic smoke raising from their bleeding chests. With the grace of a conductor, Ungar made ample gestures with both cane and free hand, spinning the columns of soul residue into a precise and intricate design, using the decaying souls as nails to keep it in place. It was hard to rush and not savor how the screams changed in pitch and intensity as he tugged through the growing net of dark magic to spin new connections, but there was no time to lose: last time’s interlopers had almost broke his concentration enough for the ritual to break down before they ended as fodder for his pets. Still, he couldn’t tug too hard either, as he risked to rip the decaying souls off their holders’ bodies. Being a master ritualist was a thankless existance.

Ungar sensed the plane’s essence twitch. It was too early for it to be the mark’s effect. Other magic strong enough to make the plane’s soul throb? A drop of sweat formed on Ungar’s forehead. He completed the connection he was working on and mentally ordered the demons to interrupt their spell and keep any intruder off the square – again, needing a second tug of mind magic for Khoramex; it was possible to extract connective material straight from wounded souls, but it would have been slower going, and he had barely finished one fourth of the circle.

Ungar wasn’t hafway done when the street to his left exploded in a fountain of earth and broken stone. He slightly turned in that direction to keep an eye on the intrustion as he kept working on the slowly growing ritual circle.

A small stone-colored creature, who looked like an old oupe covered in dirt, was balancing on a twenty feet tall rocky column where paved street had been. The younger demons swooped to put themselves between the intruder and Ungar, while Khoramex leisurely gained height. The ouphe stomped on their perch, and the shattered paving stones jumped into the air, where they levitated for a split second before turning into a lightning-fast stream of stony death. A demon dodged the storm completely, and another managed to get out with a broken arm, but the bulkyest demon proved too slow; the deluge of stone was stained with black ichor as it went through him, straight for Ungar’s position. The planeswalker had to drop his work to raise a transparent barrier that rumbled as the stones bounced harmlessly against it. Ungar frowned, pondering whether to scrap his work. He had predicted that he might have to restart the ritual from scratch, maybe harvesting new sacrifices from another city further down the river, but now he was starting to realize the real extent of his trouble.

The two remaining young demons charged the intruder from different angles. The ouphe clapped their hands, and the building on his right bent like a living creature, blocking the wounded demon’s path and crushing the other against the opposite building. The wounded demon retreated warily. The animated building shuddered and warped, taking the form of a massive stonework golem. Khoramex, who had circled the ouphe from above the buildings, fired a black lightning aimed at the back of their head. The ouphe swatted away the spell without turning. The deflected lightning went right below the golem’s arm and hit the wounded demon square in the chest, killing him instantly.

The ouphe leveled his open hand at Khoramex, who twisted in midair and dove to dodge their retaliation; the ouphe just brought their hand down, and the street below opened like a hungry maw. Khoramex spread his winds wide to maneuver away, but a sudden wirlwind bent the demon’s wings beyond their breaking point. Khoramex’s fist glowed a menacing purple, but before he could cast anything the stony mouth lunged and picked him out of the air, chewing with grim gusto.

Ungar yanked hard on the necromantic reticle, harvesting the energy that flared from two thousands torn souls. The third mark could wait. He needed his pets, and he needed them now.

The stonework golem took the ouphe with its hand and brought them to its chest, which opened to welcome them. As soon as the golem’s chest closed again, all the buildings in the city started to break up, the stones in their walls rushing to the golem, making it bigger by the second.

The first of Ungar’s summons was a thirty feet tall eye-watering mass of mantis-like limbs and bone-tipped tentacles. More than a match for the golem’s original size, but the horror now barely reached the stonework construct’s knees. The golem’s right fist turned into a whip of molten rock. The horror screeched its bloodlust, but a single lash left him broken and oozing bubbling, iridescent ichor.

The demise of the horror had bought enough time for Ungar to summon three more pets, but the golem towered over them all. Ungar concluded that he had to look for less defended canvas for his masterpiece, and planeswalked away as the massive golem broke the spine of a swamp kraken just by stepping on it.

But before that, he needed new pets.

Dorn watched the human who had attacked him slide down the wall, unconscious. Quick to ambush, as always. And foolish - who would take a prisoner and leave his shield and armor in his cell? He turned to the other human and effortlessly deflected her strike. All humans were the same hideous vermin, but these two almost looked the same creature. Dorn stepped towards her, and she jumped backwards. And craven, of course.

Maybe she was buying time for her double to flank him? Dorn turned his head to look at the unconscious one, who had not moved. This made the other human lunge for his head. Again, Dorn deflected and she jumped back. "Coward," Dorn accused, walking toward the human, who backed away from him, but her mask of concentration didn't falter, sweat beading on her forehead. They walked down the corridor locked in step, the human making small feints that Dorn didn't fall for.

When the human got used to Dorn's pace he lunged, driving his scutum into her chest. The hit flung her through the corridor's door and into a square courtyard. The human wheezed as he crawled on her back, frantically trying to get away from Dorn, who entered the deserted courtyard with his guard high, surveying the garden inside the double stone porch. Verdant grass covered the ground except for a few gravel paths; a short hedge ran around it, growing against the stone rail of the porch. Half a dozen trees basked in the summer sunlight, heavy with swelling fruit. Decent gardeners, but shoddy jailers. No reinforcements yet?

Right on cue, flames came down from the upper level. Dorn raised his scutum and the stream of fire roared harmlessly against it. A common taste for heavy opening strikes? Dorn brushed his fingers against a glyph on his smallest horn and cast a suitable protection, then moved the shield to see a one-armed viashino help the wheezing human to her feet.

"Mind if I barge in and steal the credit, Lywinn?" The viashino drawled.

"With my blessing, Sharaka." The human coughed and hobbled away, not taking her eyes off Dorn.

"Who are you, Sharaka?" Dorn called, walking out of the porch. "Humanity's misguided champion, or its blindfolded slave?"

Sharaka's focused smile twitched. "Neither, I'm just the girl who'll make you bite the dust. Speaking of which, who are you supposed to be?"

Dorn's chest swelled. "I am Dorn, Zealot of The Path of the Majestic Storm, vowed to purge the plague of humans wherever their tainted hands reach. Cast your lot with them and you will be crushed as well."

"What's with me and haughty racist bastards?" Sharaka shook her head, exasperated. "And you are proud of that title. Proud to be a fanatic? I've seen and been plenty stupid, but-"

The viashino turned into a blur and slammed into Dorn. His breastplate exploded against his skin, but his spell absorbed the hit and turned it into power. The shrapnel bounced harmlessly against him, as did Sharaka. Dorn slammed her down with her shield before she could retreat.

Sharaka rolled with the hit better than the human did, but the force of the strike sent her rolling through half the courtyard before she could scramble to her feet. Dorn touched a glyph on his big horn and freed himself from the breastplate's remains as the spell made him grow twice his size. His armor had shared countless battles with him. She would pay for this affront.

Sharaka's eyes widened. "Boar-mating spirits on a..." she muttered. She tensed, ready to jump away, then frowned as Dorn took a single step forward to gain the center of the courtyard, guard high, and touched his small horn for more protection. She circled him warily, a spiky bone dagger high in her right hand and tail arched behind her. Her left shoulder was rigid, sign of injury. Her eyes darted from Dorn's to the courtyard and back. Dorn strained his ears for other enemies, but heard nothing. For her brash opening, she seemed to rely on Dorn overextending.

He wouldn't.

After a while Sharaka feinted toward his unarmed side and dashed behind his scutum. Dorn just turned his shield enough to track the viashino again. Sharaka backed away.

The viashino again jumped in his blind side. He half-stepped back as he turned this time, wary. Sharaka dove back into his vision, putting a tree between her and Dorn, and punched it with the spiked guard of his dagger. The plant turned into a stream of leaves and splinters that bounced against steel and magic to no effect but expending his shielding spell. He didn't expect the fire bolt hidden in the storm of leaves, however, and barely moved his scutum in time to deflect the attack. The viashino swore under her breath.

He moved the shield away just in time to see Sharaka's tail disappear in a dark archway.

"Spineless scum!" Dorn bellowed after her. The noise of footsteps intermingled with the echoes of his voice. The battle wasn't over. He cast a more durable protection on himself and raised his guard, scanning the courtyard for the next threat. For a long minute, nothing moved as footsteps and scratching noises echoed from all directions.

Fire erupted in the upper level. Dorn brought up his shield... but nothing came. He frowned. A wall of fire hit him on the flank, engulfing his entire body in flames. Even with with his ward, the heat was smothering. He turned and brought his scutum to bear, but the flames reached past its edges, licking at the metal on his limbs. To his dismay, the shield began to bend under the fiery barrage. Dorn's eyes started to water for the smoke, but he was otherwise unharmed.

Then the flames stopped, as suddenly as they had come. Dorn felt his magic still holding on. A life-saving choice - a lesser spell might have given out. He blinked to clear his vision. Sharaka whistled amid her wheezing. "Nice proportions, big one... Are you sure we can't. You know. Resolve this in a more... fun way?"

Dorn stared in disbelief as his armor and scutum dripped down his intact skin into incandescent pools, setting the courtyard's trimmed grass and brushes on fire. The last mementos of his home! "How dare you!" Dorn bellowed. He glared at Sharaka and roughly tapped his big horn, pouring mana into the spell as soon as it flashed in his mind. Magic flowed down his limbs, granting him might and speed. "Fire won't save you from your well-deserved death," he seethed.

Sharaka strolled out of the porch and breathed in the air of the burning courtyard. "Bet?" She sneered, but she was bluffing. Her stance was stiff, her pupils thin, her breath heavy.

The viashino's sneer froze as Dorn lunged. She barely dodged his left hand. His right slammed her against a column, knocking the wind out of her and pinning her chest and arm against the stone.

Sharaka's belly swelled, a dull glow in her throat.

Dorn raised his left fist for the killing blow.

Fire engulfed Dorn's head, hurting - blinding - searing through his protective magic. He arched back with a bellow. He reached for a healing spell on his horns. They crumbled in his hands. Panic surged. Water! A beach! Ocean! He latched on the image, preparing to planeswalk-

Excruciating pain exploded in his leg, bringing him to the ground. Liquid heat bit into his flank. He squirmed, grasping for the liberation of cold water with his mind-

His chest shattered, and Dorn was no more.

"Look, I know you are confused right now," Raqsfawda conceded with a dazzling smile, advancing with his palms open and bare, the only blank spots on his inscribed skin. "But if you try to think back to-"

The jet crown fused with Liark's brow glowed menacingly, and the human woman leveled her span-wide diamond greatsword at the efreet's heart. The light filtered by the hall's tall stained glass windows turned into a kaleidoscope in the sword's facets. "You're my long-lost twin, I bet. Take another step and I gut you."

Raqsfawda beamed at her as he edged a foot closer. "Humor, good! Grubby and black-nailed, but you're not completely lost yet. As I was saying-" His smile turned into a pout of mild displeasure.

"I did warn you," Liark grunted, sword buried deep into his chest. She freed her sword with a forceful motion that all but bisected the efreet. Raqsfawda collapsed on the ground in a flare of sparks, turning into a glowing red egg. Liark summoned a crystalline armor over her leather coat and leveled her diamond sword at the egg, channeling a disenchantment through the large pearl in its guard.

The egg cracked, and through the humming crack an arc of electricity jumped to the sword and through Liark, coalescing into a phoenix from her armored back. Three more lightnings surged through the woman, bringing Liark to her knees and becoming identical phoenixes darting in unpredictable jagged lines above her.

Liark gritted her teeth and raised her sword with a furious battlecry. A wave of angry golden light blasted through the phoenixes, who dissolved leaving four sparkling dots of light in their place. She called upon the bliss of plains and meadows and stood up as her mana bonds filled her with renewed life. The red egg had four cracks on it now, and the hum had turned into a deep rumble. She brought her sword up as protection as the red egg opened in a violent explosion.

"Not one for pleasantries, I take it," Raqsfawda said, standing at the center of the circle of charred stone. He clapped his hands with a flash of red light. "Well, you probably won't like this either."

Nothing happened.

"Indeed," Liark sneered, "I dislike wastes of time. What...?"

The space between the two twisted, distorting into a gnarly tangle of rainbow light and metallic wails as a spiky black shape grew to a head's size. Then the distortion imploded with a deafening groan, kicking the surrounding air into a whirlwind. Two more spots above them started to crackle with chaotic energy. Raqsfawda grinned widely and threw a stream of flames in the whirlwind, turning it into a roaring firestorm.

Liark made a sweeping motion with her sword and a large wall of alabaster raised before her, groaning under the fiery onslaught. She felt a tug on her arm, and turned to see a distortion forming near her elbow. She jumped clear of it and glimpsed a blur of movement behind her. Liark blocked Raqsfawda's flying kick out of sheer reflexes. She made to swat him out of the air - the efreet used her sword as a springboard and vaulted over her, sticking to the alabaster wall as if it were horizontal. She clad herself in divine light and grinned as Raqsfawda's fist stopped harmlessly against it.

Liark grabbed Raqsfawda's wrist before he could flee and lopped off both his legs with a slash. The efreet's grin faltered. Liark slammed him into the ground and bound him there with twisting chains of glowing energy. A swirl of colors formed between Raqsfawda's bound hands, and two dozen wisps of white and blue light floated upwards to flicker uselessly around Liark. "Disgraceful display for all your bluster", she spat, and raised her sword for a killing blow.

The efreet laughed at her words. "Do you try to sound stupid, or it's just your luck?"

A chorus of electric crackling echoed above Liark. She dove to her right, fiery wings leaving streaks of angry heat on her armor. She rolled to her feet with an invocation on her lips. "For glory and victory! Aregais, revered master!"

The colossal pearl dragon took form above Liark, wings closed to fit in the hall's colonnade. Warm light washed over them all, and even the efreet's creatures stopped to look at Aregais in obvious awe. Liark poured even more mana into him, basking in the burst of familiar light, and Aregais opened his wings in a fountain of stone and mortar. The inferno of phoenixes took flight to avoid the dragon's maws. Liark's old master exchanged a meaningful look with her; she nodded gratefully, and he raised to chase the creatures with a majestic roar.

"Yes, get wild, lady! I love what you did with the place!"

Raqsfawda was crouching halfway up a ravaged column, free from shackles. He was still smiling, but his glowing eyes were narrow in concentration. Liark hit her breastplate with the flat of her blade, imbuing the armor with the levity of angels. The crystal became lighter then air itself, lifting her as she leaped toward Raqsfawda. He retreated higher onto the column. Liark effortlessly ran after him, gravity no more than a suggestion for her enhanced armor.

The column splintered under the efreet's feet and Liark lunged.

Raqsfawda twisted away from the blow. Liark's sword carved a deep gash on his chest. He vaulted into empty space. She slashed in his direction, and a glowing net engulfed Raqsfawda in midair. The efreet landed heavily on its back and yelled, both for the fall and for the sanctified snare burning his flesh.

Liark conjured a beam of divine punishment and aimed it at the efreet's chest. Raqsfawda stopped struggling to cross his forearms. The attack bounced against them and shot back toward Liark, who vaulted over it to land on the efreet herself. Some strange magic turned the magical snare into ivy, but too late for him to avoid her.
Raqsfawda raised his left hand toward her incoming blade.

Liark's sword sank deep through flesh and stone.

She frowned. Her strike had gone through his forearm and shoulder rather than his head. Raqsfawda leveled his right hand at her face, unhinged glee in his feverish gaze. She ducked away from it, freeing her sword and preparing a shielding spell. His arm remained trained upwards.

Aregais' light disappeared, and a cold shiver ran down Liark spine. She looked upwards - and dove out of the way.

Her crystalline giant - who had somehow appeared in Aregais' place - shattered as it hit the ground. The phoenixes raised a victorious shriek before diving toward Liark. She got to her feet and traced a cross into the air with her sword. "Righteous stars, watch over my darkest nights," she intoned under her breath, and hundreds of spiky stars appeared between her and the diving inferno. As the first phoenix flew between two stars, the line between them glowed and cut the creature in two. The others tried to maneuver out of the way, but they were already among the blade-stars, and were shredded in seconds.

Liark leveled her sword at Raqsfawda, whose wounds were closing in twin fountains of sparks. "Your cunning won't save you, efreet. Face me honorably. Let us finish this farce."

"You're right, for once!" Raqsfawda cackled, bony spikes emerging from his knuckles, fingertips, elbows, brow and a dozen other places. "No more tricks. Time for time-honored savagery." He dragged his new claws along the inscriptions on his chest, and the words awakened with an angry red glow.

Liark flourished her greatsword and called upon the mastery of her ancestors, generations of swordmasters inspiring her with stalwart confidence.

Raqsfawda lunged.

Liark blocked his elbow and shoved him back, making his next punch glance on her cheek. She increased her size and struck before the efreet could follow suit. She slashed his thighs and neck open, then all but cut through his left arm before he could put a distortion between them. The efreet shoved his dangling arm into the distortion, annihilating it in a burst of red mist, then laughed through his bleeding throat. The writing on his skin drank the blood sprayed on it, the glow pulsing like a heartbeat.

Liark charged slashing from her right, spectral blades joining her own. Raqsfawda's stump turned into a thick tendril to catch them all in its leathery flesh. The efreet yanked her in and leaped to headbutt her in the chest. Her breastplate cracked. Liark staggered in dismay. She mended the crystal with a quick spell - and now Raqsfawda was as big as her.

She twisted her sword and cut off his new arm at the shoulder. He ducked within her guard. She kneed him in the face, caving his skull in. He turned into an electrical phoenix and surged through her. Liark turned with an upward slash, but he had changed into a firestorm. She ripped her alabaster wall from the ground and used is as a makeshift shield. Raqsfawda returned to his efreet form and shattered the wall with a punch. Liark stepped back for space, but a distortion bit at her heel.

Raqsfawda's howling laughter filled her ears as he loomed over her, visage trembling at the raising heat of his skin. She pressed the sword's guard against his chest and pierced him through with holy power. He headbutted her in the face, bending the jet crown into her skull. Something made her twist away to protect the crown - and brought her right into his sweeping kick.

Liark conjured a flare of scorching golden light as she fell and kicked Raqsfawda off his feet. The Efreet rolled until he hit the far wall, where he scrambled into a crouch, and after blinking a few times he... clawed his own eyes out, cackling all the while. He flicked the liquid on his claws behind his back, where it burst into twin wings of fire that latched on his shoulders. As Liark channeled the endurance of the gods, hundreds of glowing eyes opened on the wings' burning surface. Raqsfawda's grin widened to his ears, displaying rows of mismatched needle teeth dripping lava.

The infernal creature charged. Liark cut it down - and it disappeared like a mirage.

Raqsfawda's kick sent Liark flying through a column and against the ruined wall, her magic absorbing absorbing the strength of the impacts. The efreet jumped high, just shy of the blade-stars, and dove for her, claws outstretched, but Liark was ready.

She turned into a beam of light for a split second then took the form of a pearl half-dragon behind Raqsfawda. He ducked, and her slash merely took off half of his wings.
Raqsfawda grabbed her wrists, sending a thunderstorm's worth of electricity through her. He twisted the sword out of the Liark's grasp and kicked her into the air. Liark opened her wings and raised out of the efreet's reach. He leaped for her. She rolled out of the way. He bounced on a column and landed on her back. His claws sunk in her wings and twisted them sideways, turning her flight into a free fall.

She looked down. A distortion was growing beneath her.

Raqsfawda jumped clear of it just before Liark's body turned into an explosion of diamonds. The glowing crystals gently twirled toward each other as they fell.

"Point goes to me!" Raqsfawda barked a laughter as he landed beside the diamond greatsword. He forcefully drove a spike of red mana in its heart and shattered it in another burst of diamond shards and blinding energy. He picked up the enchanted pearl and dusted it against his bloodied trousers. Storyteller? He sang in his mind, fingering the silver ring on his left hand. I have something for you!

A point on Raqsfawda's side widened into a perfect circle. "...Excellent work." The vedalken on the other side of the portal reached through with their hand and gingerly took the pearl with long, delicate fingers. "Can I ask you to keep her occupied a bit longer? Remember, she's mind-controlled, try not to kill her."

Raqsfawda glanced at the charging Liark, twin gauntlets of eye-watering rainbow around her fists and splinters still fusing back into her shape. "Kill her?" The efreet cracked his spiky knuckles and grinned madly to the vedalken. "And spoil my fun?"

Daneera took a deep breath. "Let's put it like this: if you take some meat off the deer, 'walk away and leave most of it with us, you might not need me to intercede with Kerik the next time." Not that Daneera wanted there to be a next time, but still. She had a strong feeling nobody would enjoy the ending of that particular fight.

"Kerik." Sharaka considered Daneera for another long moment, then shrugged. "How can I turn down such a generous offer... Can I ask you a question first?"

"If you must." The quietest rustling of leaves to her left alerted Daneera. What kind of animal would decide to approach them so soon after an explosion?

Sharaka didn't seem to notice that. "What's the worst part of 'walking, in your opinion?"

"I never put much thought to it." Daneera shrugged, trying not to frown at the glimpse of fur in the brush behind Sharaka. "If you had asked me when I first began, I'd probably have said the travel itself. Now, if I had to choose, I'd probably pick the powerful planeswalkers that use their ability to subjugate entire planes just to stroke their ego." She had two specific 'walkers in mind, of course.

Sharaka nodded thoughtfully. "I've only heard of those this far, for better or for worse. My pick is misunderstandings. Or maybe miscommunications, that's more accurate. Especially when you try to explain something, try to warn people of impending danger," she sighed dejectedly, looking up as she was recalling something. Daneera tried to meet Kerik's eyes to stop him, but he was too focused on Sharaka's back. "And despite your efforts - maybe because you don't know their way of doing things, maybe because you look too different to be trustworthy..." Sharaka met Daneera's gaze and slowly raised her glowing dagger. "They don't **** listen."

Daneera's blood ran cold. "Kerik! NO!"

Kerik lunged.

Sharaka flickered past his claws and sunk her dagger under his jaw. "Warned ya," she snarled.

Another explosion shook the forest.

Kerik's headless body fell to the ground.

Sharaka quickly turned to face Daneera, blood-soaked dagger held high in a careful guard. "Now, I feel like you didn't agree with your friend's decision, but I've been fooled befo-" She barely deflected Daneera's knife.

Daneera pushed on, limbs thrumming with magic, darting in and out of Sharaka's range to never let her magical dagger connect. Sharaka backed away and tail-slammed Daneera on the ribs, but she didn't falter. There was no room for pain, or sadness, or even proper hatred within Daneera. There was only room for a single certainty.

Kerik was dead.

Sharaka would soon join him, or Daneera would.

Daneera's knife caught Sharaka in the forearm and the shoulder, but it didn't get through her padded armor. Daneera lunged for Sharaka's throat, but the glowing dagger hit her knife and shattered it. The shower of sparks and fine shrapnel dazzled Daneera, and she blocked a fireblast to her face at the last moment.

The following tail strike, however, caught her square in the stomach and sent her flying.

She landed in a roll and howled, summoning Shuru's pack. Daneera was a summoner at heart, and an ambush predator second - her companions would either win her the fight or give her the opening she needed.

Sharaka looked around, sizing up the approaching pack, and... stood up straight, screwing her eyes shut in concentration. Daneera seized the opportunity to hide in the underbrush, observing her target closely to see what kind of summon she-

Sharaka dropped into a low stance and roared. The ground shook at the deafening warcry, a draconic explosion of fury that would have rivaled Morgezka. Daneera didn't blame the wolves for bolting - her own knees buckled as instinct screamed to run away from certain death. Still Daneera stood her ground, keeping her breath even as she waited for Sharaka's next move.

Sharaka took a deep breath and cautiously padded to where she had flung Daneera. The huntress stood perfectly still, not daring to move a finger - the draconic roar had scared the entire forest into a stunned silence. Sharaka looked around and sniffed this way and that, but she seemed unable to spot Daneera - she had landed hard into the underbrush, after all, covering her in leaves and soil, and her scent wasn't that out of place in the Bladǎri forest to begin with.

The viashino walked past her, finding the tracks Daneera had left as she had ran after Kerik. Daneera slowly, slowly shifted forward into a pouncing crouch, eyes not leaving Sharaka's unprotected neck...

Instinct kept her from lunging, Kerik's last moments flashing into her mind. She blinked out of her tunnel vision -

She couldn't see Sharaka's dagger. The darkness around her had a faint reddish tint.

Daneera froze. Sharaka's shoulder twitched.

A moment of tense silence crept over the forest.

Daneera leaped away from Sharaka's lunge, the glowing dagger tearing a crimson path of destruction through the underbrush where she had been hiding in. She rolled into her feet and started running through the underbrush.

She couldn't outflank Sharaka nor score a decisive hit in a plain fight. She needed her biggest summons, those large and ferocious enough to stand up to a dragon's fury. She needed distance and mana.

Daneera ran.

Sharaka sprinted through the forest, muttering curses all the way.

She shouldn't chase after an enemy who knew the terrain better than her. Unfortunately, said enemy was a better planeswalker than her and could thus hunt Sharaka later at her leisure. Also, the woman had managed a big pack of wolves in a second - Sharaka wasn't eager to know what she could do with more time and room.

So Sharaka chased, using magic to dash closer or cut her off with fire when she could - the human's limbs were drenched in power, auras Sharaka couldn't hope to outlast despite her stronger bursts of energy. If she survived this, she vowed, she'd become an aura master. And pick up some summons too, what the hells. Couldn't hurt.

She reached the big clearing within seconds of the woman, but the human was already waiting for her at the center, arms open in a welcoming gesture.

The air throbbed with the smell of sun-kissed weeds, and a massive herd of bull-beasts surged out of nothing, charging at Sharaka.

"You certainly have a lot of **** friends," Sharaka snarled as she sheathed her Fang and whipped around, running back toward the thick of the forest. She didn't climb the first trees - too thin - and let the stampede get dangerously close before running up a large oak with a burst of magic.

The oak shook with the beasts' hoofsteps but stood strong, unlike the rest of the woods - when the stampede relented, the clearing was quite a bit larger, even decade-old trees bent and stripped bare of bark. Sharaka met the human's eyes and opened her mouth for a joke, but the air shuddered in a waft of crushed sap and a huge predator landed in the clearing, muscular legs easily crushing the damaged trees with its weight - thick claws made for digging and ripping more than swiping.

The beast's jaw looked big and strong enough to chew a stone house, its green scales rugged and thick. Its eyes - small and close to the snout - spoke of sharp senses and simple brutality; not that it often needed shrewdness with that kind of size, Sharaka guessed. She leaned forward on the branch, ready to move. The creature lunged, huge maw easily encompassing both Sharaka and the branch, but she was already in the air.

Sharaka vaulted over the beast's bite and rained banefire on its eyes. It crouched and whipped its head around with a snarl, trying to shake off the scorching pain. Sharaka landed on its back, but while its scales weren't hard enough that she couldn't find purchase, the beast's bucking was so violent that it toppled the oak and flung Sharaka off its back.

She tried to land rolling, but her left shoulder took a nasty hit and she painfully rolled into a crouch with stars swimming in her vision. Breathless and wobbly on her feet, still she dashed past the rampaging beast -stopping meant dying - and smelled the upturned earth of the woman's next spell.

The rumble under Sharaka's feet was all too familiar.

Well-honed instincts made her dodge the rising bite of a massive wurm, her eyes narrowed and head low at the explosion of grass and soil. She breathlessly cursed and leapt over the signs of a second surfacing wurm, then took a sharp turn to the side to avoid the third. Taking down one wurm was a job for an entire tribe, spirits **** her. She still didn't dare stop. She kept close to the third wurm's flank as she ran around it - with maws so big, they couldn't attack her without injuring it - and reached for the human's emotions, trusting her own training to warn her of the quickening bloodlust of an incoming lunge.

The woman was all cold battle-rush and grim determination, loss and anger only ebbing and flowing on the surface. That wouldn't do. "Is wolf dick that good, then?" She shouted, inhaling the summons' overflowing bloodlust and funneling it into the woman. "Figured the knotting part would get boring quick! Hope you weren't planning on a litter or five, by the way!" That got a reaction. Sharaka dodged a frustrated snap of the third wurm with a quick burst of magic, finally getting her eyes on the human.

The woman was backing away, but she couldn't take her eyes off Sharaka. The human knew she should just get away and watch her pets eat Sharaka alive, but what she wanted was tearing Sharaka apart with her bare hands. Sharaka's grimace of effort turned into a wide mocking grin and she went all out, throwing herself into a dead sprint as her magic forced the wedge of blind anger deeper into the woman's mind.