Chapter Eleven

We moved clear across the meadow in the shadows of night... nearly a month ago.

Since then, twelve more lives had been lost to Atlan's army. Two had defected to the enemy's side. Our fortress had tripled in security to the point where no one could leave and it had become more of a prison than a home. No one called it home. We simply referred to it as "base". It was a series of tunnels built into the side of a mountain, tunnels with thankfully no end that led out on the other side or anywhere else, but two main entrances. Our base was built into the side of the mountain with staircases that led up the sheer rocky sides, platforms for which lookouts could see far and wide.

Magic had depleted significantly in order to maintain a shield around the mountain.

It was exactly what Atlan wanted, I realized a month after we had moved in and reinforced it. Atlan wanted us terrified, wanted us closed off from everything, and wanted us to feel trapped. While his attacks were violent, his encouragements were not. Thrice now, he'd approached the shield to offer shelter to those who wish to be free of the war, who wish for peace, for freedom.

Or at least, his hopeless lies of peace and freedom.

And all three times, Xiphrus followed at his heels like a dutiful hunting dog. He was dressed in a tight black leather vest and matching greaves and vambraces that were plated with metal, with sharp points jutting out just over his knuckles. A pair of tall monstrously huge boots added two more inches to his height, and with icy eyes that glowed like two moons in his skull, he was a terrifying sight to those who watched him behind the shield with a tremble in their hands as they palmed their weapons.

"You can stop this," Atlan had told me in a croon upon his last visit, "All you must do is reveal yourself to me, everything. Show to me what you truly are, Joxeia, what you truly crave. You conceal a spirit of fire behind a facade of stone. Come to me, be your true self. Open yourself to me." His words had made my skin crawl, and even worse when Xiphrus growled low in his throat, a sound of approval that Atlan praised as if he were complimenting his pet.

And it was those encouragements that caused restlessness in the base. I heard the whispers, the murmurs. The rumors burned into my back through the eyes of suspicion.

It was my fault, they told themselves. I should surrender myself, and maybe Atlan would leave the rest of them in peace.

It was my fault. I was also corrupt. I was a wolf hiding among deer. It was only a matter of time before I tainted them as well.

And none of them were wrong. Maybe if I did hand myself over, Atlan would cease his killings. I absolutely was corrupt. There was a sick twisted part of me that wanted to fight, not to the death, but to fight until someone gained the power and someone took it, rough and hard. My body ached on occasion and it was difficult to find privacy in the base to ease it, so I'd volunteered doing rounds on the outer perimeter, finding a small alcove in the side of the mountain to ease what I could.

Not that it did a damned thing. Still, there was an ache inside me that no amount of touching was healing. I was unsure what could fill that aching void, but there was no time to stop and think of myself. Despite the growth in self-loathing, I had to focus on the task at hand.

Protect. Serve.

Protect. Serve.

I repeated the mantra in my head as I climbed the steps to the Northeast guard tower, hand resting on one of the swords in my holster, the feel of the handle a comfort as I came to the top, only to draw up short.

Starkin stood at the railing, his hands resting on the railing, his ponytail swaying in the breeze that caught up around the mountain and moaned like a distant wolf howl as it sailed through the air. Starkin pushed back from the railing to turn and look at me.

"Is it your turn for watch?" He asked, appearing surprised that time had gone by since he began his turn. I inclined my head, frowning as I approached. Dark circles had formed beneath his eyes, eyes that had once glowed with life and now appeared depressed and exhausted, lips chapped and skin incredibly pale. He reached up to dig a knuckle into his eye before blinking to look at me.

"When have you slept last?" I asked him. He stared at me sleepily.

"Last night."

"For how long?"

"It matters not," Starkin responded dismissively, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. I raised an eyebrow at him, folding my arms over my chest.

"Aye, it matters much," I said, "What should happen if there be another attack and you are too tired to react accordingly? It's dangerous, Starkin. Go forth to your chambers now and rest." Starkin blinked at me slowly, and for a moment, I almost thought he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open before he blinked hard and nodded.

"True. I shall awake in an hour for--"

"No, you shall sleep to the full extent required for you to function. Go now, the base will be fine. Trust in me," I added. Starkin smiled faintly, then nodded and headed off down the stairs, using the railing as most of his support on the way down. I shook my head, but my eyes lingered upon him to ensure his safety to the ground before I took his place at the railing to stare out over the forest and the meadow.

Across the meadow of tall grass, now balding in some places due to battles taking place and not only killing enemy forces, but also the natural order of the ground beneath us, was the destroyed remains of what was once our home, once our garden. The black obsidian gem that gleamed in the sunlight was now a pile of rubble, the garden a massacred land of weeds and fallen trees from both lightning strike and enemy strike.

The forest was a thick stretch of tree tops, clustered together mostly, all skeletal and shivering in the morning wind, save for the fluffy pine needles ruffled by the weather changes. A layer of fog had settled across the land, weaving in and out of the trees and seeping out into the meadow like a living creature seeking another of its kind.

The air had grown cold now. The dew in the morning became a crusty frost across the land, even a few drops of frozen water dangling from the bare tree branches like tears stopped in mid-stream. My breath curled in clouds before my mouth, and my eyes scanned the terrain, deeming it relatively safe for now. Not safe to travel upon, no, but safe behind our walls, protected from brutal attack.

I tugged my black cloak closer to myself, ducking my head down to breath into my naked palms, rubbing them together.

"You need gloves," a voice said and I sighed, brows knitting together in an irritated frown as Satanika arrived at my side, handing me a pair of black leather gloves lined with fleece. I eyed her warily as I tugged them on, silently savoring the rescue from the bitter cold.

"Are you stalking me now?" I asked. Satanika smirked.

"Love is attracted to those in need."

"Mm," was my totally intellectual response. Because what could I possibly say to that? Satanika had been glued to my side this past month, or rather, since her creation really. Whenever I inquired to her purpose, she simply gave me the same response every time. Love was attracted to those in need. I had no idea to what purpose those words were meant for. Surely not to comfort me, for they were a constant reminder of what emotion had gotten me tangled in this mess in the first place. And I had no need of it right now.

It wasn't about me anymore.

It was about the universe as a whole.

My emotions needed to remain blockaded until the war passed. They were nothing, but a nuisance here.

"I am glad you got Starkin to sleep," Satanika said after a moment, making me glance at her out the corner of my eye, her gaze trained upon the winter creeping into the land, "He has been restless. He is assisting Geara with her search for a seal for Xiphrus, despite her warnings to leave it to her."

"He wishes for the war to end," I replied quietly, placing my gloved hands on the railing to squeeze the iron tight in my grasp. Satanika reached over, placing her hand over mine, but I withdrew it to reach up and adjust the clasp that held my cloak closed, and she sighed, replacing her hand where it was.

"We all wish for this war to end," she said, turning around to lean her back against the railing, her arms folding over her chest as she cocked her head to look at me, "Joxeia, you have become colder. Even Geara says you wish not to sleep with her in the quarters that you share. Starkin says you no longer touch anyone." I almost laughed at her concerns, but knowing it would offend her and rile her up further, I kept my cool as I leaned on the railing.

"I have no time to sleep and no time for touching."

"Just because war is at our door does not mean we must abandon the gifts the Source gave us."

"I am not abandoning any of their gifts. I am using them to protect us."

"You mean hiding them to protect us," Satanika said, and when I heaved an obviously angry sigh, Satanika pushed away from the railing to face me, "Joxeia, you cannot do this. You cannot bottle it all up inside of you. There is only so much you can contain before it backfires. Sooner or later, you will need to release what is inside you."

"I shall do so after the war."

"No, you won't," Satanika said, her hazel eyes snapping fire when I glanced at her, and she grabbed me, forcing me to face her, and I shrugged from her grasp to take a step back from her, "And what if this war lasts for years? Centuries? Millennia? Will you contain it then?"

"I will contain it for as long need be."

"And you will contain it afterwards," Satanika replied angrily, making me frown, "You have become frightened of your own shadow. You claim that you will no longer play Atlan's foolish games, but you are playing right into his hands now as we speak! He has corralled your emotions right where he wants them, locked away and waiting to burst alive. He will be waiting to attack, not the universe as a whole, but you because you are becoming our weakest link."

I narrowed my eyes at her, but said nothing. Though, I wanted to scream in her face. There was a potent anger surging against the wall inside me, begging to be released in the form of a kick between those beautiful hazel eyes flashing with truth and anger. I stamped it down hard, roped my stoicism, and held to it for dear life.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," I said at last. Satanika threw her hands up and began to pace the tower. My eyes followed her, watching her go through scenarios to explain how wrong I was, how my thinking had been corrupted, how I was confused.

Yet never before had I had such clarity.

I knew full well I was corrupted. Atlan had taken my innocence and wrapped it tight around his finger. Bottling up my emotions was the best thing I had done since meeting him. At least this I had control over. My emotions had no place in this war... in this world, quite frankly. They had wrought nothing, but agony upon not only myself, but the rest of the universe as well. Atlan had taken advantage of my emotional weaknesses, had turned them into a way to control me.

As he had done with Xiphrus.

I refused to let that happen to me. I refused to play Atlan's games.

"Listen to me," Satanika tried again, and I gave her a bored stare that appeared to only anger her further, "Listen! You think you are fighting him by doing this, but you are not, Joxeia. This is what he wants. He wants you to suffer slowly and painfully. Until you cannot take it anymore, until you are so full that Atlan can just walk by and pop you and you become like Xiphrus."

"I will not be like Xiphrus," I shouted abruptly, making her go still and several others down below tilted their heads back to stare up at us, and I took a deep breath, reigning in my calm again, closing my eyes before opening them to pin Satanika with a cold stare, "It it because of my emotions that we are where we are. I will argue this no further. I know what is going on and I know how best to handle it. And quite frankly, right now, my emotional distress does not matter. It is this war that matters most. It is the protection of the universe that matters most. We will find a way to seal Xiphrus. We will find the one who can kill Atlan. We will find peace. Until then, we focus on the war. Not my soul."

Satanika ground her teeth together.

"You are stupid," she said, making me frown, "I mean it, Joxeia, you are truly stupid and you are blind and that is why Atlan is going to win this war."

"Satanika--"

"We are done here." Without another word, Satanika spun around and stormed down the steps, her long flowing red cloak billowing as another gust of strong cold winds tore around the mountainside, whipping my hair across my face. In the next second, Satanika was gone and I was alone atop the tower. I closed my eyes, breathing out a long tired sigh. I turned back to my position and continued watch.

Though, my mind was now clouded by the argument with Satanika. In a way, I knew she was right. I could feel the emotional build up behind the wall, feel the pressure to release it. Even if it meant breaking down and sobbing, but I was so tired of weeping. It did nothing to help the situation, and it would only make Atlan feel as if he'd won a small victory. I did not want him to believe himself strong enough to break me.

He wasn't strong enough to break me. I refused to believe that.

I struggled to cling to that one small hope as I stood watch, but it was thankfully a quiet night and soon my rotation was finished and I could go off on my own. I left the base with the excuse of doing a perimeter check, walking along the barrier on the inside, keeping an eye on my surroundings. The mountain stood to my right, towering high into the sky and draped me in shadow from the sun that glowed dimly behind a curtain of thin gray overcast. To the left of me was the forest, a stretch of mere poles swaying in the winds, the pines trembling so their little glass dew drops jingled softly. I continued on until I met with a stream that carved around the mountain and let out here before heading to the lake.

Ice crusted the small shore of it, but the center flowed freely, a soft trickle of water that traveled over rocks and fallen trees, making rounded turns around land and tree. I stepped over to the stream, knelt down while sliding a glove free of my hand to dip it into the water, bringing it to my lips to take a taste of the frigid purity. I replaced my glove, standing up when I felt a prickle on the back of my neck.

I blinked and looked up to see a dark shadow move in the trees. I narrowed my eyes for a moment, hand grasping the handle of my sword in preparation to attack whatever entity had stumbled across my path, only to relax slightly at the sight of Death stepping out from behind a large pine.

He reminded me of Starkin, in the sense that he was exhausted, appeared worn down and near to death himself. He wore a heavy winter cloak that fell around him with long sleeves that fell to his fingertips, and connected to the torso of his cloak, and his heavy hood was hoisted up over his face, a black scarf wrapping around his neck and the bottom half of his face. Dressed entirely in black, he blended in well with the shadows, save for the sickly paleness of his skin.

"Death," I greeted quietly. He studied me, clearly exhausted and maybe mildly irritated, but he said nothing as he approached. I stayed within the barrier, and Death stopped before it. He reached out a gloved hand to touch what appeared to be nothing in the air, but when his fingers came in contact with the barrier, it sent purple and blue pulses of electricity flooding through the barrier before it faded away.

"How do you fair?" I asked. Death dropped his hand and stared at me.

"My father came to see me." His tone was as dead as those he cradled to his heart unto the afterlife. I said nothing in response, knowing there was more to follow. He turned to stare into the stream. Somewhere nearby, a bird cried out and rustled the tree branches. My eyes instantly locked on it, as did Death's, and neither of us moved as we waited to confirm it was merely a bird... and sure enough, a moment later, a large black bird streaked across the sky above and sought shelter away from us.

We waited longer still to ensure it was simply us frightening the bird.

At long last, Death turned his head to look at me, pinning me with tired black eyes that glinted in the dim sunlight overhead.

"He has asked me to lure you from your shelter and bring you unto him and Atlan," he said. I stared at him, speaking not. I could fell from his exhaustion, from the weak pulse in his magic that sparked between his fingers, then faded away, that Death came here, not with the purpose to lure me, but to simply speak.

"Do you wish to kill me?" I asked instead. Death studied me.

"For a time," he admitted, looking away to the stream, "But so too have I wished to end the life of my own creator. I suppose that would make me as foolish as Prixius and the others."
"Nay," I replied, shaking my head, "Anger tends to lead us astray. Blame not yourself for your emotions."

"No," Death admitted, "I have come to that conclusion myself. When Xiphrus came to me and asked me to assist, he held me in his arms. He has not held me since that last festival in Geara's garden, did you know that?" I shook my head. Death stared at the water longer, then turned those black eyes on me, and now they were... pained. There was a deep seated agony in those intelligent black eyes, a very weary, very frightened, pain.

"And I remember the way he held me then," Death recounted, eyes unblinking as he appeared to be thinking back on the memory, "It was akin to something I can only describe as a hug from a bear. Arms so big, so protective, smile so wide that it nearly touched his ears, and his laughter shaking his entire body and mine. He would kiss me on the head, tell me that I was his dear creation, and hold me tighter still and soon, I would have to fight him off me to get away."

I remembered that well, watching the way Xiphrus held Death like he was a precious gift unto him. It was the way a father should hug his son. There was such love and adoration in Xiphrus's eyes that he nearly wept from it. His emotions so pure and so full.

"When he held me yesterday," Death continued, voice falling into a soft murmur, "He felt... mechanical. His arms barely touched me, his chest did not touch me, and he did not laugh and he did not kiss me upon the head. He held me with a swift disgust he did not voice and did not show, but the air smelled rancid with it. He said unto me... Find Joxeia. Bring him to me. If you love me, you will do as I say."

Silence fell.

And as we stood there, little white flakes fluttered from the sky. I blinked, amazed that snow would fall in this area of our former Paradise, and I tilted my head back to stare up at the gray sky that let loose a gentle flurry of small white crystals of ice. They clung to everything they touched, dotting Death's cloak.

And my eyes followed a particular flake that landed upon Death's cheek, and a tear streaked a hot path through it, melting it instantly, sliding off his jaw and landing on the ground.

"My father is dead." Death's words hung in the air. I swallowed.

His agony was so potent, so pure. It sliced through the air and speared me straight in the heart, and how badly did I wish to weep and come forth and take him in my arms. A foolish urge to lie and tell him that all would be well, as I used to, because in the past, I truly believed that it would be all well.

But I could not lie. I could not come forth and hold him and I did not dare bring myself to weep for him, so I watched as he wept silently, tears joining the fall of snow.

"He's gone." The sob was loud and pained. It echoed through the trees, and another bird streaked across the sky, escaping the sound. A gust of wind carried around the mountainside again, a howl that blasted against us like an icy wave, fluttering out clothes, our hair, knocking Death's hood free from his head, revealing a bloody bite mark on his throat, and my eyes widened.

"Death..." My words were lost, this time on a scream that carried from the base. Death and I snapped our heads around for a moment, watching as little electrical pulses shot through the barrier and it crackled and whined under the weight of an attack. I turned back to Death for only a split second to confirm whether or not he had a part in it, but judging from his horrified stare, he knew nothing of this attack.

Which meant Xiphrus had tricked him.

He knew Death came to consult with me, and he knew coming before Death would confuse him and his loyalties, bringing Death to speak to me. And he knew we would be alone. I wasn't entirely sure how he could plan it so well, right down to the button, and I filled Atlan into that space.

Not wasting another moment, I sprinted along the barrier toward the main entrance to the base and I could hear Death running after me. Much to my surprise, he caught up quickly and we were soon side by side just as the barrier cracked through the center and we both ducked down. Instinct had me rushing through the opening in the barrier to tackle Death to the ground to protect him as the shards went flying, turning the ground black where it landed as the heat of the electricity set a small fire that instantly went out a second later.

We were back on our feet in instant, heading toward the sound of screams and war cries. Explosions of magical attacks lit up the sky, sending up streams of red and black magic. It was a morbid spectacle to behold, and it was only worse when we finally made it to the main entrance that had been blown clean open.

While smaller creatures were down below, attacking the soldiers, I caught sight of Xiphrus being thrown clean from one of the tunnels. He flew through the air, then caught himself against one of the guard towers, his arms reaching back behind him to hold onto a wooden beam, his eyes glowing gold as he bared his fangs.

"Get to safety," I told Death instantly, my eyes following Xiphrus as he launched himself back at the tunnels, "We have an escape route just over there. Take it. Get out of here."

"No," Death said, making me glare at him, "I'm tired of pretending none of this is happening. I'm tired of holding souls in my hands and knowing I could've helped them."

"Death, you are not trained--"

"I have no need to be trained to do this," Death said flatly, then threw his hand out. There was a deep rumbling from the round and a crack shot through the crust, splitting open and a dark void growled, skeletal hands reaching up to grab the ankles of enemy soldiers, yanking them into the crack. A second later, the massive crevice belched and smoke billowed out before it sealed itself up.

"How long have you been able to do that?" I demanded. Death stared at me.

"Since just now. I've never tried that. I didn't think it would work."

"So you just now figured it out."

"Yes."

"Okay, fine, keep doing it, but from a distance," I commanded, and Death rolled his eyes, but I turned to another soldier to snag his arm as he was passing by, appearing to try and find something to do to help, "Protect him." I shoved him toward Death, who sighed in frustration, and the soldier inclined his head to me.

Deeming Death safe for now, I bolted toward where a major battle appeared to be transpiring. I followed the sound of screams and explosions. The scream sounded vaguely familiar, the voice that tore the air like a powerful bolt of lightning. I approached the blown open entrance to a tunnel to see Xiphrus picking Satanika up over his head and throwing her clear across the room.

My eyes widened and I bolted out, catching her before she could hit the ground. She snatched herself from my grasp, and it was then I noticed her makeup was streamed, her breathing caught between ragged gasps and sobs, tears pouring down her face.

"Satanika--"

"He killed him," she screamed, attempting to lunge past me for Xiphrus, who steadied himself to watch with clinical curiosity as I held Satanika back, staring at her in surprise, "He killed him, Jo! He killed Starkin!" I froze as those words sank in, but I couldn't bring myself to release her as I held her in front of me, watching her heave with sobs and angry screams for Xiphrus to rot in the bowels of the Source.

"What?" I managed. Satanika's eyes flashed red, then hazel again, tears flowing black down her cheeks, and they flickered to me. For a moment, all I saw was potent agony. Raw exposed pain that stole my breath away and nearly made me weep myself.

"He killed him," she whispered, then locked her eyes on Xiphrus, causing the hatred and rage to flare up in her eyes again, "He was sleeping, you bastard harlot! He was sleeping! He was doing nothing! He did nothing to you!" Xiphrus gave her a bored look. And I was stunned at his callous reaction.

"He was also trying to find a way to lock me away forever," he replied calmly, "I could not allow him to succeed, as I will not allow Geara to succeed. Once I have killed you, dear Satanika, I will find Geara and I will take her to Atlan to deal with." His eyes flickered to me and I stared at him, frozen at his cold harshness that only made Satanika scream again, her hands grabbing onto me as if I was the only thing keeping her on her feet.

"And Atlan promised me I could have you," he said to me, making me narrow my eyes, "He is angry with you, Joxeia. You're taking too long to come to your senses. So he has given me permission to train you properly before you are presented to him."

"Satanika," I said slowly, moving in front of her to face Xiphrus, "Go find Geara."

"But--"

"Go find Geara," I ordered more loudly this time, my voice warped by the magic rising from my spirit and spreading through my veins like liquid fire, "I will deal with him." Satanika blinked her tearful eyes several times, as if she were trying to find a reason to stay, but she knew as well as I did that she couldn't stay here. If she killed Xiphrus, the balance could splinter. We needed to seal him, not kill him. And I trusted no one else to protect my beloved sister than Satanika.

Satanika thumped me hard in the back, not as an insult, but as an encouragement to take Xiphrus down, and hard. She vanished on the spot and Xiphrus looked at me.

"I'm still going to kill her," he said calmly, "As I did her brother."

"Why did you kill Starkin?" I demanded. Xiphrus cocked his head.

"He was trying to kill me."

"He was not."

"He was trying to seal me away," Xiphrus replied dryly, "Tis the same as death. I will not have a low-born and corrupt creature like Hatred conspire to seal me away. His existence was a nuisance. Were it not for him, you would not be as confused and dark as you are now." Right, I thought bitterly, gripping my swords in my palms tightly. Because I was the one who was confused and dark.

"Your name was the last thing he said before he died," Xiphrus said suddenly, making me go still, and his gold eyes glinted in a flash of magic that shot up from outside the tunnel, "He wept as I spilled his blood. I cut his throat as he drowned in his own blood, he whispered your name before his spirit passed on. I figured you would like to know that even Hatred knows your name."

Fury lashed through me, busting the wall apart inside me and I roared. A sonic blast exploded forth from my vessel and sent the top of the tunnel flying from our heads and the walls blasting outwards, causing rock and dirt to explode in all directions. The wind howled around what was left of the mountain and stormed around me, and my magic reached out and harnessed it, dragging it around us and swinging it in a circle. The wind swirled around us and the rest of the world was blocked out by the rushing winds that snatched up rocks and dust, shielding us from everything else.

I knew Xiphrus was trying to make me angry, but I couldn't hold it back anymore. I was tired of standing there with a straight face, pretending none of this bothered me-- because it did. I was angry. I was infuriated. I was hurt and I was tired. And I had adored Starkin. I had loved each and every creature that had fallen to Atlan's army, and even those on his side who were being led astray by his conniving promises of perfection and wonderment led by his hand.

No more of this, I decided, withdrawing my blades and holding them out to allow magic to crackle gold across the blades. Geara could still come up with a way to contain Xiphrus, even if he was unconscious.

"If I didn't know any better," Xiphrus said, narrowing his eyes, "I'd say you fancied the personification of Hatred. Was it he who led you to this level of naivety?" I tsked, tired of his taunting and launched at him. He took a step back and spun out of the way, but I pulled up short, landing on the ground for only a second before popping back up to do a backflip, avoiding a blow to the face.

Xiphrus whirled around to strike me again, but I ducked and slashed at him, but he managed to catch my arm and twisted it tightly, making me hiss. The blade fell from my hand, and I dropped the other one instinctively, drawing an uppercut blow to his jaw, sending his head snapping back.

When his head popped back into place, his fangs were bared, longer and thicker, and made for ripping flesh from bone. His claws elongated into curved daggers that sank into my skin. His eyes glowed fiercely, so much so that it drowned out the sight of his pupil and became glowing gold disks in his eyes. He lunged to bite my throat, but I managed to move my head aside, using all my strength to lift him up from the ground and throw him into a stack of rocks that had gotten trapped in the tornado with us.

Xiphrus landed with a snarl and was on his feet a second later, breathing heavily.

He was all beast now. A mindless pet groomed by a master of words. No amount of talking or beating him would bring him to his senses now.

Now, Xiphrus was going to complete his mission, whether I was whole or not. The only way to stop him was either sealing him away or Atlan decided to suddenly gain a conscience of his own and call off his dog. Something told me the latter was less likely than the former.

I snatched up my swords again and Xiphrus roared at the show of defense. My lack of bowing down and bending over for him apparently infuriated him. He vanished on the spot and appeared before me, but I swung my knee up into his groin and he yelped in pain for only a second before slamming his head against mine. I stumbled back, swinging my swords at his neck, but he ducked and rammed into me so hard, it caused my hands to open and my swords to once again go flying.

We hit the ground hard and Xiphrus straddled me with an ease that concerned me and he slammed his hands so hard into the ground on either side of my head that my ears rang, and his hands crushed about an inch into the dirt and rock. He got in close and bared his fangs in my face, saliva dripping between them.

A sliver of fear shot through me. He was definitely not okay. Something was wrong. Was this the true Destruction Starkin had foretold? I had never seen this part of Xiphrus before. This was more than just Atlan's silly wordplay at work. Something more was happening here. It was as if Xiphrus had literally become nothing more than a pet.

Unfortunately, I had no time to stop and think about that atrocity, because Xiphrus was sniffing at me, lips parting and fangs dripping as they prepared to strike for my throat. I twisted my leg around his, watching his eyes widen, and I caught him about the waist, throwing all my weight to one side, flipping us over so I could scramble on top of him.

I punched him hard across the face, my knuckles screaming in protest, but I relished the feel of his cheekbone giving way, his skin splitting. His head snapped to the side, and I didn't dare give him time to recover as I smashed another blow across his face. He snarled and reached up to wrap my hips, his claws cutting straight through my clothing and into my flesh. I cursed, arching my back in pain, before quickly punching his face again.

And he squeezed hard. I gasped, agony cutting a raw path straight up my spine into my head, causing my brain to scream for relief. I could feel the tips of his claws pierce right into my bone and the pain jarred me for a moment, so I was stunned.

Xiphrus took his chance and tore his claws out, blood spilling into the air and across the dirt. He grabbed me up by the waist and slammed me down hard on my back into the ground. My back screamed and I felt a deep tearing of muscles, a disk slip out of place and I was frozen in place, panting for air, fingernails wrenching into the dirt as my vision darkened around the edges.

Xiphrus came to stand over me, his eyes wild with rage and his claws flexing as he threw his head back and roared, the sound carrying up through the tornado and pouring to the outside world. The sound was spine chilling, an animalistic bellow that seemed to echo up through the winds that only heightened the sound to the point where my ears rang from the sound. His chest heaved with the noise as he released yet another long roar into the air.

My body rushed to heal itself, but Xiphrus didn't give it another moment to do so as his roar faded into a monstrous snarl and he grabbed me up and punched me hard across the jaw. Pain exploded in my skull as it snapped back, the bone of my jaw shattering and blood bursting from my nose and mouth. I choked on it as my head fell back and I struggled to lift it, reaching up to wrap my hand over Xiphrus's on the front of my uniform.

He roared in my face and a split second passed where I couldn't hear anything, but that roar in my ears. He picked me up and threw me across the dirt and I smashed hard into a chunk of rock that hadn't been blasted away. The moment I made impact, however, it blew to pieces and my body broke as I fell into the ground, gasping for air.

I tried to move, tried to urge my muscles to obey, tried to rush the healing my body scrambled to put into play, yet none of it was working. At least, not fast enough. My body lay sprawled out on my side, arm out in front of me, fingers twitching.

Beyond my tunnel vision, Xiphrus threw his head back for another roar and his eyes blazed as he took a step toward me. It was all he managed, however, as the tornado abrupt halted around us and a screaming cloud of smoke shot around above us before landing in the space between Xiphrus and I. The smoke swirled for a moment before dispersing outwards to reveal Atlan standing in all his mighty glory, his black robes fluttering around him, his hair settling to his shoulders. He faced Xiphrus without a lick of fear in his eyes.

"Xiphrus, heel," he ordered. Xiphrus roared again and flashed his teeth angrily, taking a menacing step toward him that was so powerful, it left an imprint in the rock beneath. Shock went through me at the fact that he wasn't obeying Atlan, but Atlan appeared to expect it as his expression became stern.

"Xiphrus, you will heel. Now." His silver eyes promised murder if Xiphrus did not obey, and suddenly Xiphrus appeared to deflate. He took a step back and dropped to his knees. His body shuddered, and there was a strong gust of wind... or maybe it was power, because it shot toward Xiphrus and vanished, making his back bow sharply before he sank forward on his hands and knees. His claws retracted, his fangs returned to their normal size, and his pupil returned along with the icy blueness of his normal eye color.

Atlan approached him, and I watched, unable to move for the pain and struggle of my body healing, as Atlan swung his foot up and it connected hard with Xiphrus's nose. Xiphrus yelped like a struck puppy and dropped back down on his stomach, grasping his nose, panting in pain. Atlan narrowed his eyes down at him.

"Do not ever disobey me like that again, do you understand me," and when Xiphrus didn't answer, Atlan slammed his foot down on Xiphrus's back, making him cry out, "I demand an answer!"

"Yes, sir!" Xiphrus barked out in pain.

"Beg pardon?"

"Yes, master," Xiphrus breathed, shaking from pain as he sank back onto his knees, head bowed as his hands opened out beneath his nose to catch the falling streams of blood that soon faded as his body healed. Atlan turned away from him to lock his eyes on me.

I sucked in a sharp breath, managing to summon up strength built over the moment I had to myself, pushing myself back against what was left of the rock behind me, my body shuddering as it attempted to work quickly to heal.

Atlan gave me that pleasant smile of his, and anger took root inside me once again as I seethed, clutching my arms around myself. Atlan approached, but only enough so that I could hear him clearly as he spoke.

"See now, Joxeia, why I must have you? Your brother simply loves you too much," he offered, and I felt a bitter laugh bubble up and burst forth, making Atlan instantly frown. To be able to annoy him so brought me a sick satisfaction that I felt no shame for.

"Oh yes, he loves me so much. Watch as he kneels like a shameful dog to your feet. Watch as he betrays his own family for a cruel tyrant such as yourself," I responded. Atlan didn't appear amused, and Xiphrus growled audibly... like a dog. Atlan held his hand up and Xiphrus instantly became silent.

"He killed Starkin," I said after a moment. Atlan was quiet as he pondered that thought, then he smiled.

"Bring him back," he said, and at my confused stare, he chuckled, "As you did with your precious Thia, do you not remember?" I scowled, remembering the event well... then going still as realization settled in. I remembered that day clearly; stumbling upon Thia's body, bringing her to Geara with Xiphrus and Atlan in tow, Geara showing me how to use a power I had not thought I had.

The power to bring the living back to life.

And I remembered clearly the smile that graced Atlan's lips. A smile that came with a question answered. Because Atlan knew; somehow, he knew what I was capable of and he wanted that power. Who would not want the power to draw life back from the Source? What better way to disobey the mighty cosmos than to simply take life back from it?

That was why he had attempted to coax me to his side.

The realization left me feeling cold, hollow, and quite stupid, actually. And Atlan knew it because he laughed softly, coming closer now and I pressed myself back against the rock, forcing myself to stand on weak legs so I could face him. He did not stop walking until we were chest to chest, my breath coming out in wheezing gasps. And the bastard dared to reach up and touch my cheek. A sharp flow of pain erupted there for only a moment, as I felt my muscles knit back together, flesh stitch itself clean, and bones replace themselves. In just a few seconds, I was healed in the face.

And I spat in Atlan's.

He sighed, and behind him, Xiphrus lunged to his feet. Atlan held up his hand again and Xiphrus went still, but he whined low in his throat, like he could not stand the injustice of my saliva streaking down Atlan's nose.

Atlan's hand swept up and brushed it aside. The gesture was graceful and patient... For only a second before his hand shot out and gripped my jaw hard, making me grit my teeth as he pulled my face toward him.

"Surrender, Joxeia," Atlan murmured, "Surrender to me, and you can bring your precious Starkin back. We both know that if you try to do it now, you won't be able to defend your people. You will be incapacitated for days, if not weeks, attempting to bring back someone who has been dead for a while now. The longer you wait, the longer you will be unconscious... and the more time I will have to wipe out every single one of your creatures. I will kill every last one of your sons and daughters. I will kill the Satanika that you love so dearly. I will slaughtered those pesky little shadow children. I will enslave your sister and have her at my feet as I do your Xiphrus."

"Shut up," I seethed. Atlan tightened his grasp and I hissed in pain. He pushed my head back against the rock, tilting it to expose my throat, which he paused to admire for a moment before those eyes lifted to meet mine.

"You can make all of this stop, sweet Joxeia. All you must do is pledge your loyalty to me as your Xiphrus has. I can make you both very, very happy. I promise this to you. All you have to do is surrender yourself unto me," he murmured. There was a softness to his expression, a gentle glow in his eyes that coaxed me to surrender, and I could feel something seeping into my blood. A heaviness, an exhaustion, and sudden urge to speak the words "I surrender" with relief. It was such an abrupt feeling that I quickly shut it down.

All the emotion that had flooded free of my walls were collected and slammed back into place. I shut down immediately and gave Atlan a flat stare.

"Rot in the flames of your own ruination." My words made Atlan's eyes widen slightly before he narrowed his eyes and went to move his hand from my jaw to my throat, but he had barely shifted downwards when a blast of gold magic exploded from nowhere and sailed into Atlan, slamming him across the ground.

Xiphrus was on his feet and sprinting to Atlan with a cry of horror, dropping down to heave his master to his feet. Atlan was breathing hard, eyes flashing with wild rage that suited him well, before it was quickly quelled and he looked up, following my gaze to where Geara stood with Satanika and Death behind her.

Geara wore her warrior's uniform, her hand held up at her side, a plume of gold smoke billowing from her palm where the blast had come from. Behind her, Death and Satanika stood a rock solid force prepared to defend her to the death.

"Geara," Atlan greeted casually, as if they were discussing nothing, but the weather, "Such a pleasure that you should join us at this moment. Your brother was just about to take responsibility and end this war." Geara's gold eyes flashed menacingly as she took a step forward, taking Death and Satanika with her when she moved.

"Shut your mouth," she said coldly, making Atlan raise an eyebrow, as if he were skeptical of Geara's power, which was quite a mistake on his part, "I am not nearly as easily convinced as your drones. In fact, you make the mistake of attempting to seduce wisdom, when wisdom knows well your character flaws and your desperation to prey upon even the slightest weakness within another creature. Unfortunately for you, I know well one of your weaknesses." Atlan frowned.

"And what, pray tell, would such a weakness be?" He asked. Geara smiled pleasantly now, and the grin that tore across Satanika's face was positively wicked.

"Females," she stated, and Atlan tsked.

"Females? I do not fear females," he told her chidingly, but Geara shook her head.

"No, but judging from the way you treat us, you treat us well below your own status. I see that a majority of your troops are comprised of men. I saw the way you looked upon me when we first encountered," she said, and when Atlan gave her a droll look, she smiled, "You ignored my presence until you deemed it fit to address me. You look upon me and you see a small female nary more than the height of your breast. You see us as tools, as objects to dispose of as you please. While you may also see males as such, you certainly do not treat males nearly as disposable as you treat females."

"And how does this help you?" Atlan asked. The irritation in his voice was clear. His impatience. And I began to realize Geara was correct. Atlan was most definitely not attracted to females, and I meant that both in the sexual term and overall. His aversion to females had been quite clear in the way he looked past them as if they were nothing more than a table in the room.

And now that the realization occurred to me, I felt a wave of irritation, not that it was needed, because Geara and Satanika appeared amused by Atlan's impatience with them.

"Because the idea of being overthrown by a female," Geara told him, "Angers you beyond belief, and my dear Atlan, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to cause your ego to deflate at my tiny hands." She held her hands up, and a charge of power began in her palms, forming balls of golden electricity that screeched and crackled, popping with sparks.

Atlan's eyes glowed wrathfully. The wild anger was back and his lips parted to revealed elongated fangs. Beside him, Xiphrus stiffened nervously, looking back and forth between Geara and Atlan.

"You won't attack me," Atlan seethed, "It is not in your nature. I, too, can be observant, little Geara, and I, too, see that your have a weakness... Violence is not in your blood. You fear the sight of pain and blood." Geara cocked her head, lowering her hands slowly.

"True enough... Unfortunately for you, Satanika relishes the bloodbath," she added, nudging her head toward Satanika, who stepped forward and cracked her knuckles, narrowing her eyes on Atlan, whose eyes shot to her instantly as if he was just noticing her.

"And what possibly could Love do to harm me?" Atlan asked flatly. Satanika smirked.

"I had heard you were quite intelligent and beyond reproach," she commented, then sighed, "But it appears you are nothing more than a pig with a brain the size of a toad's. For did you not hear, Atlan, that I am the most powerful emotion in the known universe and it is in my territory that you have dared to tread, my emotion that you have dared to twist and corrupt?" Atlan tensed. He didn't appear at all amused now, or bored, as his eyes watched Satanika's hands. Despite his view of females, he appeared to be quite alarmed with Satanika's presence.

"Surely you understand then," Atlan said slowly, making Satanika raise an eyebrow, "That I do this out of love. All that I do is in the name of love. I wish only to bring peace and prosperity through the creatures in this existence, to bring about truth and sincerity. To beat back the lies spoken by the Source. It is with love that I wish to bring a new universe." Satanika tsked, dropping a fist to her hip, and her eyes giving Atlan an unimpressed once over.

"Do not speak to me as if you understand the concept of Love. You may understand the logistics of such a power, but you cannot begin to understand the truth and the sincerity of it. You use it as a weapon to cause harm, a weapon of offense. And today, now here, I shall display to you what Love can do when it has come to harm, when those close, have come to harm. And I shall relish forcing you to your knees where you belong." She attacked without warning, throwing her arm out and causing an arrow of fire to fly free from a trigger on her wrist.

It sailed through the air for Atlan, who stepped out of the way, the beginning of mockery in his tone until Satanika stomped her foot and sent a crevice shooting through the ground to separate Xiphrus and Atlan. Xiphrus panicked and turned to attack Satanika, but Death stepped forward and waved his hand up, summoning the long skeletal hands from the ground, their fingers flexing as they stretched high into the air and came after Xiphrus.

Xiphrus cursed loudly and dodged them, attempting to fight them back. Meanwhile, Satanika was free to wreak havoc on Atlan, who mostly ducked and dodged, eyes watching Satanika in hopes of finding an opening, a weakness, one of which he would not find soon.

I caught sight of Geara stepping back before running around to me so she could help me heal the rest of the way. The feeling of it was nearly as painful as receiving the injuries, but I took a deep breath and bit hard to suppress howls of agony. Once the healing was finished and I was left breathing hard, watching the battles unfold, Geara tugged my arm and drew my attention to her.

"Starkin is dead," she said, tears glimmering in her eyes and I nodded, making her swallow, "Just before his death, he uncovered something. Tis a sealing spell. The first of its kind. Unfortunately, he died before he could tell me more of such a spell. It came to him in a dream given unto him by the Source. All I can do now is attempt to contact them and figure out the spell. For now, we must once again leave this place and leave Atlan to stew in his own failings."

"Again?" I demanded through gritted teeth, fists balling up tight at my sides. Geara nodded sadly.

"We must do this right, Joxeia, to avoid further damage to the universe. I will find the spell to lock away our brother. I will find out who it is who is destined to bring the downfall of Atlan. But for now, we must leave this place. I cannot contact the Source in the state that things are in right now."

I hated to admit it, but she was right. Contacting the Source was no easy feat. It required total concentration, relaxation, a calm that was achievable only by meditation. It also required an incredible amount of magical power that could leave the user temporarily incapacitated. A battlefield was no place for it.

Cursing the situation altogether, I turned toward where Xiphrus and Death were fighting first. Part of me wanted to join Satanika in her battle against Atlan, but Geara was right; Atlan would be more frazzled should he be faced with something that corrupts his train of thought. Such as fighting two females.

"Get Satanika," I told Geara, making her nod, "I will assist Death. Have you given word to the others to evacuate?" Geara nodded again, gesturing out toward the base.

"Most of the enemy down below have been vanquished, and everyone is moving through the safety tunnels to escape to the alternative location. I have asked several of our soldiers to close down the tunnels behind them to ensure no one follows. Now go, we are running out of time." I inclined my head, and we clasped our hands together quickly, before parting and heading into our designated areas.

I approached Death, just as he threw both his hands up and sent another set of hands climbing out of the crevice in the ground to snatch at Xiphrus, who snarled in frustration as he blasted them back, looking up to pin Death with a menacing glare.

"You're a traitor," Xiphrus was shouting, "I gave you life! I gave you a vessel and immortality and beauty and this is how you repay me?" Death narrowed his eyes and drew his hand up, summoning another crowd of hands that grasped and snatched at the air around Xiphrus threateningly.

"He's lying," I told Death sternly, making him blink and turn his head to look at me, as if not expecting me to be standing beside him, "You are not the traitor; he is. Love is not given as a reward." Death studied me for a moment, then dragged his gaze over to where Xiphrus was watching him, breathing hard as his eyes flashed from blue to gold to red, then back again.

"I know," Death murmured softly, "You've taught me well enough to know better. I refuse to fall prey to the same idealistic fantasies brought on by greed." I felt sorry for him, the bitterness that hung heavy in his voice, for despite his defense of the Source and myself, there was a deep sated pain and guilt for attacking his own creator.

"Death--"

"What should we do now?" Death asked me, changing the subject. I watched Xiphrus wrestle with the hands, but he was quickly dwindling them, and when I turned back to Death, I noticed a bead of perspiration sliding down his nose, then his temple, and just past his lip. He looked worn already, but it was to no surprise. Death wasn't sure how to use all of his powers just yet, wasn't sure how to control his own levels, meaning he was putting far more effort into his attacks than he should be.

"We leave," I told him, watching his eyes widen and he opened his mouth, but I shook my head, placing a finger on his lips to silence him, "We cannot stay. It is not our destiny to kill Atlan. That glory belongs to another, another we may soon know the name of. We must seek the spell of sealant to place upon Xiphrus. We will end this, Death, but not here, not now, not with the weapons and power we have right now. This will require direct contact with the Source, through Geara. Do you understand me?" Death nodded. I took his hand and squeezed it. His dark eyes met mine, and there was a clarity there that assured me.

"Let us go," I said, glancing toward Xiphrus, "We fight no more tonight. We've lost enough as is."

"Cowards," Xiphrus shouted, then swung his arm around, claws extending and slicing clean through a wrist that spurt black oily blood across the soil and rock, "Fleeing once again? Is this the mandate of your all-powerful Source? To run with your tail tucked betwixt your legs like a bitch?" I narrowed my eyes at him, then turned to Death, who was glaring in his direction.

"I want to break his jaw," Death deadpanned after a second, turning to look at me.

"Aye, the feeling is mutual, little one," I replied, then glanced over to see Satanika and Geara throwing Atlan clean across the landscape so he slammed into the side of the mountain, both of them turning to nod confirmation to me to leave, and I turned back to Death, "Let's go."

We vanished in a brief spurt of black smoke, leaving the mountain and teleporting to the secondary location.