RE: Monarch

But when I used the gauntlet against the decarabian arch-fiend, I was greeted with a familiar sensation. The sensation of being overfull, overcome by a capacity of power I could never hope to effectively wield. So, the gauntlet wasn’t just protection for my body and a powerful defensive weapon. It was an extension and shield of my soul itself.

I’d been afraid of it. Gods. I was afraid of so many things. Falling to Thoth. Losing my family and the precious friends I’d made.

The flame grew larger, extending across the fire at my feet. I drew it in to the gauntlet and the flames vanished. Nearby demons took notice and skittered away. A lesser demon poked out towards me in fear, and I caught the shaft of his spear, shattering it into pieces. He ran.

Over and over, I multiplied the flame, until it felt as if the gauntlet couldn’t possibly take more. There was so much there. So much raw mana, so much raw potential. I couldn’t possibly hold it forever. But I didn’t have to. Fumbling my way through it, I began to filter the demon-flame out, leaving nothing but pure energy.

Bellarex flew passed me, a blur of movement, her bare feet barely landing on the ground before she touched the rock I held with two fingers, charging it with violet void and disappeared, moving far too quickly to track. She ran up the side of a colossal greater demon and leapt high into the air.

Too high.

Bell hurled a void rod at the flying decarabia. It barely dodged, moving its head out of the way with a jerking movement. Bell seemed to float there for a moment, and then began a slow fall. I realized what she’d done immediately. She was giving me an opportunity by opening herself up to an attack. From the sudden glowing in the demon’s hands and how it suddenly moved towards her instead of away, it clearly wasn’t going to waste this chance.

There was no time. Focusing air mana through my body, my legs, I stomped the ground, discharging it in the blink-step that Saladius had so painstakingly tried to teach me. I thread the needle through dozens of warring bodies, landing with a small stumble in the place I was aiming for. A beaten patch of grass on the outskirts of the scuffle, behind the flying demon. Bell was still falling, her expression terrified. The demon pulled its arm back, preparing to cast.

I crushed the stone. All the energy that I stored came rushing out in a flood as I held my arm aloft, hand extended towards the demon as if I might grasp it out of the air, propelling the now pebble sized fragments in an explosion of glowing shrapnel.

The reaction was instantaneous. The demon shrieked at the impact and, unable to control its considerable mass and momentum, plummeted to the ground. Bell killed it before it landed, lopping off its head with a monstrous two-handed swing.

I grinned at her, and she smiled back, holding up her sword victoriously.

Holy shit. That actually worked.

Everything shifted. The Decarabia more than made up for the loss in numbers, but each individual demon seemed to be fighting more fiercely than before. The demon we felled must have ranked highly among the Decarabian Legion, They seemed to want to retreat, but would not do so until the order was given. That level of dedication was always dangerous, even among enemies that were not, effectively, immortal.

I did what I could to even the tides. Blinded their lieutenants with flash powder. Set fires at their feet, controlled race across the grass and panic them, pushing them into the air where our ranged forces could pepper them appropriately. More asmodials trickled in, bolstering our number, but I realized with growing dismay that our side was simply less disciplined than theirs. The asmodials would commit to any scuffle, however lopsided, and this was a situation where their fierceness would not work in their favor. Occasionally, they beat the odds. Mostly, they just fell.

I fought harder, shielding a pair of asmodials from a massive spell with my gauntlet, throwing myself into them and detonating the spell amongst their number like a living bomb. I repeated this several times, only barely managing to maintain my shield until it finally cracked on the last attempt, the explosion stunning me and knocking me flat. Hands pulled me up before I could recover.

Jorra and Bell flanked me. Jorra’s whip snaked out, lashing at bodies, eyes, and necks. He panted and strained with the effort. “Should we run?”

“No,” Bell said immediately, “Right now the asmodials are covering us. The enemy has many flying casters, and they’re targeting us. We won’t make it thirty yards.”

“There’s too many,” I said, rubbing the dirt from my face, finding the debris red instead of brown. Apparently, I’d hit my head harder than I thought.

Jorra shook his head. “We have to do something. We’ll die if we stay here.”

“Where’s Maya?” I asked.

“With Kastramoth. Healing some asmodial greater demons.”

That was smart. The asmodials were barely organized with their generals. Without, they’d fall apart completely. I scanned the chaos until I found her.

“Dammit. There. Go, go!” I started to run.

Maya braced against the back of a greater demon, healing him as a cluster of decarabia rained down spells. The demon was screaming, his wounds reopening as quickly as they closed. If he fell before we got there, it was over. All of this had been for nothing.

The fire on my sword grew so hot it was almost unbearable. They were immune to the fire itself, but not the heat.

I sliced through a smaller demon that darted forward to intercept me, bisecting it from shoulder to waist, shielding my eyes from the gush of ichor.

Bell, nearly there, was snatched out of the air by a flying demon who carried her high before she managed to free herself. She hit the ground hard, out of harms way but stunned by the fall.

“See if you can find a way around—“ Jorra was cut off when a greater demon lashed out. He ducked the lance, but took the knee to the face that followed, barely rolling clear of the follow-up blows.

The greater demon sneered and sprinted after me. His wings were small, likely only decorative given the substantial body mass.

I blinked, again and again, only evading when I absolutely had to. Superficial wounds began to add up into something substantial. The deeper wound on my leg was still bleeding. It wasn’t sustainable. Maya watched me, and for a moment, I saw pride in her face. Then it changed to horror.

I choked, suddenly, as a hand seized me around the neck. The demon had finally caught up. My sword bounced, landing somewhere beyond my quickly shrinking vision. For a moment, I was back in the chair, staring up at asmodial faces as they leered down at me, laughing.

Then the image faded in place of Maya. She was still stuck, holding up the greater demon. Even with tears in her eyes, she looked at peace. I struggled, against the hand on my neck, digging the talons of my gauntlet in, striking at muscle, at the elbow, at anything I could as he slowly squeezed the life out of me. But it wasn’t enough. My arms fell to my sides.

As the darkness closed in, I heard a voice shouting.

You tried so hard to save me. But I was always going to die. Either to Barion in the Everwood, or to poison, or sometime far in the future. Do not let the death of one girl with silly dreams derail you. This is bigger than me. You have to save everyone, every last one of them, wretched or kind. You have to build the better world you told me of. That is your purpose. To bring life where there was only death. It’s okay to let go.

No. No. I was so close. I didn’t want to lose her.

To whatever god that will listen. I know I’ve made missteps. Mistakes. I know I wasn’t a good person. Haven’t I earned this much? Enough goodwill to save one person. It’s all that I ask for.

Please

Please.

Please.

Bright golden light flooded over me. The demon recoiled and dropped me, shielding his face. I sat on my knees, wheezing as my vision came back, revealing something that shouldn’t be possible. A massive infernal I barely recognized—Theros, the massive, seven foot tall light magician who had died in the ambush of the first enclave loop, then later escorted me out of the Twilight chambers after the contract with Ozra—wielded a single claymore, carving through the hulking mass above me.

Passed him, the Decarabia attacking the greater demon were frozen, in pieces on the ground. Maya walked towards me, stunned, and helped me to my feet.

“Human!” Theros laughed. “How come every time I see you, you’re neck deep in demons?”

“Still…” I wheezed, “Have the face of an angel, Theros.”

“Asshole,” Theros chuckled.

“Aren’t you over the age threshold? Doesn’t that mean…”

Theros unleashed a barrage of light magic, obliterating a pack of Decarabia. “Yeah, it does. But when we finally found a way in, Morthus was offering one hell of an incentive. Figured I’d be a fool not to take it. And it sounded nice, you know? No more taking shit from my squad. Early retirement.”

It warmed to realize Ralakos had taken notice, and was working from the inside to help us for all this time. I laughed. “Who would do that?”

“More than a few of us.” Theros pointed behind him, and moved forward, striking a cluster of lesser demons down with ease.

Morthus was there, which was almost unsurprising. He’d left his sword sheathed and was casting an endless array of cutting arcs of water, guiding them through the air to strike down the many flyers. I recognized several of Morthus’s personal guard, and even one of the priests from the temple district.

There was a trumpet like call and the Decarabia retreated. Some asmodials gave chase, but most simply clustered together, hesitant after the beating they’d taken.

And there, left in the wake of the battle, was one infernal I recognized all too well. Maya stiffened next to me, croaking out a single word.

“Mother?”

Nethtari. The woman who put her life on the line to represented before the council, then invited me into her home and treated me as one of her children. A lump grew in my throat. Dressed in armored robes, Nethtari reached out with an almost casual swing, and drove her hand-maul into a frozen greater demon’s head, shattering it easily.

Maya rushed to her, Jorra joining them soon after. I approached slowly. Our relationship had been strained before the last few months of this clusterfuck. Maya and Jorra were both crying, Nethtari’s perpetually monotone voice attempting to soothe them. I tried, in a cruel sort of irony, to imagine rushing to my father in a similar state, and how long it would take me to pick myself off the ground after.

I watched, as Nethtari brushed the tears out of Maya’s eyes, then held her tightly, pulling Jorra in after. Add in Kilvius and little Agarin, and they really were the perfect little family.

A family that was now shattered forever. Because of what I’d chosen. Even if I reset now, in the sanctum we were effectively sealed off from the outside world. There was nothing I could do to prevent this from happening. And now Nethtari could never go back. She’d given up her entire life to ensure the safety of her children. To undo what I’d done.

Guilt, deep and raw, ran through me. There was nothing for me there. Not anymore. I forbid the tears that threatened to well-up and started to walk away, to look for Bell.

“Pink child.”

I stopped.

“Come here.”

I turned slowly. Nethtari was looking at me over, Maya’s shoulder. She motioned with her head, and I approached, laden with dread.

“I’m so sorry—“

Nethtari grabbed me, pulling me in.

“You did well.” Her monotone was low, raspy.

“But this is my fault—“

“Stop it. Stop blaming yourself for things that are beyond you. The actions of people entirely out of your control. This was chaos, beyond what anyone could have expected. Yet, you brought them back to me. You did well.” Nethtari said fiercely.

I let my face sink into her shoulder, a long held weight finally lifting off me. It wasn’t an absolution I deserved. A forgiveness I deserved. But I was so tired of holding on to it.

A few moments later, we all parted awkwardly. I wiped away the sweat and dust that had accumulated.

“They’re not leaving,” Theros said, his voice grim. He was staring out towards the edge of the chamber, where a small host had assembled.

“I expect they aren’t,” Morthus replied, moving beside him slowly, the cost of engaging in battle at his age clear to see. “They’re regrouping. Waiting for their commander. We’ve only bought time.”

“Is everything ready?” I asked.

“Oh yes. Walk with me,” Morthus said. I looked back at Nethtari, and she offered me a sad smile.

“We’ll catch up later. I promise.”

I nodded, not having the cruelty within me necessary to tell her how unlikely that was.

We started towards the camp. I took Morthus’s arm, supporting him. Unable to help myself, I glanced back, stealing one more second. Bell had linked back up with Jorra, and all four of them were trailing behind us.

“And here I was, hoping to see you swing that sword around,” I joked.

“Its bad form to bully an old man, princeling.”

“Perhaps.” I closed my eyes. “Any chance we can all just escape through the passage the reinforcements used to get here, and all of this is unnecessary?”

“Unfortunately, no. There were apparently supposed to be more of them. After the outsiders, Morthus’s people included, realized almost immediately they would not be able to disable the barrier, they took a more systemic approach. It took them nearly this long to find a chamber weak enough from the outside. Once they had, it began closing almost immediately, and there was only time to get some of them through.”

“Of course.” I blew air through my teeth. “That would be too convenient.”

“All the preparations have been made.”

“The demons made it back?” I asked.

“Your demon, as well as Arch-Fiend Ozra.”

My eyebrow raised. “I’m surprised he came.”

“He is still recovering, but likely knows that his presence will contribute to a standoff.”

“How is everyone in the camp?” I asked.

Morthus sighed. “Well, most of them made it. It was chaos when I arrived, but I’ve organized them, helped designing the defenses. Made sure they know exactly who the enemy is, that she sought to harm the prime leyline, and that you and your companions stopped her.”

I looked at him, confused. “But she didn’t.”

Morthus waved my comment away. “Complicating detail. You’ll learn it’s better to omit those with age. Important part is, there will be no swords pointed at your neck when you arrive. They’re prepared for war.”

/////

Sometime later, I stepped out onto a simple podium erected in the center of the heart. Hundreds of faces stared back at me, many of them far too young, confused, scared. I was no stranger to speaking publicly, but the nerves never really went away. And it didn’t matter that this particular time was perhaps the most crucial and simultaneously unfamiliar. I had sought to beseech at the council meeting. To spite at my own coronation. But the goal of this speech was far more significant and complex. I saw Bell at the foot of the stage, her face grim. Maya and Jorra were further back next to Nethtari, watching, waiting to see what I’d been withholding for so long.

I took a deep breath, and began to speak.

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