For hours, well into the now thunderous and ominous night, Faye had sought to kill Vargus.
She had tried in vain to reason with him.
She had desperately searched for a way to reach his soul, as blackened by his apocalyptic intentions as it was, because she knew he still had a soft spot for some of humanity.
She had held off on killing him in the past, believing that only with all magi together would they stand a chance against the forces of the Garland Kingdom.
But no more.
The Garlands had become her and her sister Claire’s ally. Vargus had shut down the most desperate attempts at reconciliation.
And worst of all, he had nearly killed Claire, with only literal divine intervention preventing him from doing so.
Of all the cruelties in this world, none could be less forgiven than that.
And thus, Faye no longer believed in reason with Vargus. She only believed in decisive action. She had lost the ability to believe in forgiveness and reconciliation.
Her feet glided across the grass as the gentle crashing of the waves from the ocean provided cover from what pithy sounds came from her steps. Her eyes scanned, her mind dissected, and her heart sought to sense Vargus.
The last she had seen him, she had blasted him with a deity-enhanced ice spell out of the castle. He had teleported away, avoiding certain death, but he could not have gone far. His possession of the yellow crystals would allow him to move only so far away, and only so often. He could not have gone so far as to escape the sensing powers of her.
Faye came to a high point along the cliffs, about two hundred feet above the seas. From her vantage point, when she turned around, she could see the castle about two miles behind her. This far away, it had but a mere few flames, rendering it insignificant compared to the grandeur that Hydor’s stars and land provided.
And Vargus wants to make sure none can appreciate all of this.
Tragic. And sad. There was once hope, but now…
There is nothing but grief, anger, and despair.
Aside from the waves crashing into the cliff walls, the distant screeches of dragons filled the air, but these screeches were so distant it would take the dragon minutes flying at full speed to reach her—plenty of time to defend herself in the unlikely event of such an attack. The cries of other creatures filled the air, but most were mere fillers of sound than harbingers of danger.
And that, for the most part, described what Faye perceived as she faced the direction she had come from—sights, sounds, and other sensations, but not Vargus. It didn’t surprise her, but it did raise her anticipation. She was getting closer to confronting him; she knew it on a spiritual level she couldn’t explain. It was as if her soul knew that his presence was near, but not her mind.
She turned her eyes back eastward, a near mirror image of the opposite direction, save for the man-made castle to the west. There was a rolling downhill, followed by a horizon over which she could not yet see. Nothing told her to go that way, but left with no other option, she proceeded forward.
As Faye moved down the edge of the cliff, a cold wind brushed by her. It carried with it the scent of the sea, that salty yet familiar whiff. In older days—days so old they might as well have qualified as historical—the smell would have marked a chance to feel at peace.
Now, it reminded her how fleeting such peace could be.
She began ascending the hill. Trepidation and caution crept over her. For a flash of a moment, she could understand why her sister had become so paranoid about the darkness. Fighting a monster in daylight was easier than the possibility of fighting a man in darkness.
And just before she broached the horizon, she heard a guttural growl, a deep, primal warning that something lay on the other side that could kill her.
She took in a deep breath, trying to steady her accelerating heart. She held her sword firm, her grip tightening but not shaking. Faye had experienced far too much combat in recent weeks to fear a potentially fatal confrontation, but that did not prevent her body’s reaction.
She moved slowly to the horizon, prepared to lunge her sword forward in self-defense at any second. The only light the stars above provided was for outlines. And as she moved forward and finally cleared the edge, she saw the outline of something that was not natural.
It had a long, thick tail, what appeared to be a mane on its head, and unnaturally large, well-defined muscles visible in the blackness of night. It was not staring at her, but from the profile vantage point, Faye could see a very visible, very sharp fang extending outside its lips. It was a monster, and it invoked a word that Faye had only heard in passing, only heard in reference to fables.
Behemoth.
And then the beast saw her.
The twinkle in its eye shrunk, indicating narrowed eyes. Its breathing increased, and the deep growl became more vocal, threatening to turn into a roar. Faye stood her ground, studying the creature for any weak points in its hide. She felt certain that she would have to fight this being, for such a monster could not have existed without a summoning.
Which means he is near.
As if able to read her thoughts, the beast bellowed with a cry that surely reached the castle walls. Faye could feel her hair flowing in the wind from the roar, but she stood her ground. She readied her sword and her magic, prepared to counter.
The behemoth launched itself at her.
Swiftly, Faye stepped to the side, bringing her sword down on the monster as it flew by her. She struck its hide, but if she hurt it, it did not react. The monster merely moved like a feline, silently moving one paw over the other as it lined up for another strike.
The monster lunged again, and again Faye struck with her sword. Nothing changed, other than the proximity of the monster’s claws to her face. She reached deep, found the power of magic, and unleashed a fire spell upon the monster.
Its mane flared up, and the light of the fire showed the creature’s true hideousness. It sported a black mane, purple skin, and colorless eyes. It looked at Faye with pure hatred.
The monster rolled on its back, extinguishing the flames with ease. Too much ease. Vargus is near, and he is helping the creature in this battle. She knew she could not defeat such a monster alone; she could wound it, but Vargus would bring forth more monsters.
But she had something literally in her back pocket, something Claire had given to her before she’d departed “just in case” Vargus ambushed her.
A summoning crystal of her own. A perfect counterpoint to Vargus’ evil. And what better way to defeat a monster with a monster of her own?
Faye launched another fire strike at the beast, not to wound but to distract. As soon as the fire had ignited on the behemoth’s mane, Faye closed her eyes, reached for the essence of the red crystal, and imagined her own behemoth—but one bigger, stronger, and nastier than the one that stood before her.
When she opened her eyes, the creature had fully formed before her. Vargus’ beast bellowed in defiance, but underscoring that defiance was a fear that it had met something it knew it could not defeat. The monsters nevertheless entangled, and within a matter of seconds, the battle became lopsided.
Vargus’ monster tried to escape to the cliffs, but Faye’s summoned creature easily caught up to it. It rammed the monster with its head, knocking the original behemoth off the cliff and to its death. Faye’s monster bellowed in triumph.
This is what it will take to defeat Vargus, Faye thought. She had surprised herself with just how much of a monster she had summoned; it felt like the summoned beast reflected a side of her soul she had not dared looked into before. She had always had Claire to act as an ambassador of darkness, the toughness of one’s shadow when the forces of good were not enough.
But now, she had to acknowledge a painful but obvious and perhaps necessary truth. In order to win this war, Faye could no longer be just the nice, optimistic yet cautious sister of and contrast to Claire Quin. She had to embrace the side of her she now recognized had always been there, but had never been needed.
She stopped herself from thinking of how deep and how dark that side could go. It was bad enough to see it manifested as a behemoth of such hideousness. It would have been worse to see it manifested in herself.
Faye instead wondered if she might reverse her summon. She grabbed the red crystal, closed her eyes, and tried to recall the beast. She had never heard of such a thing, but she figured all magic had been discovered by accident.
She opened her eyes. The beast had vanished.
But not because of her spell.
Where the monster once stood, a pile of ash and the hazy trails of smoke rose. Vargus.
“Hahaha, so very well done, Faye.”
Faye got into battle position, scanning her environment. The voice of Vargus echoed in her head, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“I always knew you had such potential. And yet Claire always prevented you from unleashing it. I wonder, did she do so out of love? Or out of fear?”
“Quiet, Vargus!” Faye shouted aloud, though it felt foolish hearing nothing back but the distant sounds of the ocean to the south.
“Quiet? Why would you want me to be quiet? I come not to demean your sister. I have come with a deal.”
“I’m only listening if you speak to me.”
“Very well.”
Faye sharply turned to her left. Vargus stood at the top of the hill, and he looked no worse for wear after their previous battle.
