“Tell them to secure the city and prepare for the next phase of our attack.”

Celieria ~ Verlaine Forest

“Enough with this… siege,” Azurel hissed to the Primage Dur. “We’re no closer to capturing the Tairen Soul’s mate than we were two bells ago. Time for new tactics.”

Dur scowled. “And just what do you propose? We’ve tried everything we can to get through those shields. Nothing has worked!”

“There is a saying in the Fading Lands… sometimes it’s better to send a mouse than a tairen.”

Dur rolled his eyes. “In plain Elden, if you please.”

“We don’t need to get through their shields. Only this does.” He held up a sel’dor-tipped arrow that he’d modified to hold a chemar in its shaft. “Surely we can weaken their shields enough to get a single arrow through.”

Dur arched a brow. “How good is your aim?”

Within a few chimes, the Primages ramped up their bombardment of the Fey shields, pummeling them mercilessly, while six of the Mages combined their powers and focused a bombardment of highly concentrated Mage Fire on a single handspan of the Fey shield.

It took a while, but the small area thinned. And when it did, Azurel and his companions let fly.

One of the arrows broke upon the already-regenerating shields, but two of the sel’dor-tipped missiles sliced through, into the center of the protective dome.

Ellysetta’s legs went weak as the all-too-familiar sensation of ice spiders shuddered up her spine.

“Rain!” she cried, falling to one knee. “Portal!”

Rain spun, red Fey’cha in his hands. His eyes flamed tairen-bright, pupils disappearing as his beast rose in response to the threat to his mate. Three Mharog leapt out of the portal and dove towards Rain.

“Fey! Ti’Feyreisa! Ti’Feyreisen!“

In desperation, Ellysetta tore one of the bloodsworn blades from her belts, slicing her palm deep. Blood welled in a swift, scarlet flow, and she smeared it over the shining surface of her bloodsworn-steel-forged armor to summon her lu’tan.

“Kem’lu’tan! Ku’vallar! Ku’vallar!” Help me!

A second portal opened behind her. She only had the briefest warning before an icy hand closed around her wrist.

“Neiiii!” The shriek of terror and denial ripped from her throat as a Mharog’s black blade with its red Fey’cha hilt slammed into the side of Rain’s neck.

Rain’s vision clouded, and his red Fey’cha fell from abruptly nerveless fingers as the combination of tairen venom and the corruption of the Mharog’s poison blade spread through him. His legs folded, and he dropped heavily to his knees. One hand reached for the hilt of the blade protruding from his neck, then fell away as he toppled to the ground.

He lay on his side, struggling for breath and watching helplessly as Ellysetta shrieked in a Primage’s grip and fought his efforts to drag her into the Well. Rough hands grabbed him by the neck and clawed fingers closed around his jaw, squeezing hard. The foul decay of a rotting soul poured into Rain’s mind. Festering memories of a once bright Fey life, destroyed by the deliberate betrayal of an unfeeling commander. Destroyed by him—by Rain.

“She will die in torment, Tairen Soul,” an icy voice hissed. “Think of that as you burn forever in the Seventh Hell, and know that Maron vel Dunne has had his vengeance.”

Rain looked into the hate-maddened eyes of the Mharog without the slightest flicker of recognition. His mouth formed the soundless question.

Who?

The Mharog’s face contorted and he gave a high-pitched shriek. Dark steel flashed as he yanked his meicha from its sheath and held it over Rain’s head like an executioner’s axe.

Before the blade could descend, a Fey warrior surrounded entirely by a glow of golden light reached Ellysetta’s side. He slashed at the Mage with blades that gleamed like sunlight. The Primage staggered back away from Ellysetta, a look of shock on his face, bloody stumps where his hands had been and a ribbon of red slashed across his throat. Demons howled out of the Well, surrounding the Mage in a cyclone of shrieking shadow.

Freed, Ellysetta lunged, Fey’cha drawn, towards the Mharog standing over Rain.

Nei… nei, shei’tani. Do not! Rain tried to shout the warning, but none of the muscles in his throat were working. He couldn’t speak.

Sensing Ellysetta’s presence, the Mharog turned, swift as a snake, but too late to save himself. Her blade plunged into the Mharog’s heart just as another blade, this one blazing like the sun, took off the creature’s head. The Mharog’s decapitated body remained standing for several, long moments, showering Ellysetta and Rain with a fountain of icy black blood. Then the legs collapsed, and the body toppled to the ground. Ellysetta crumpled, too.

She was screaming as if her body were burning from the inside out, as if her skin was being ripped from her bones.

The other two Mharog gave shocked grunts and crumpled to the ground. Someone knelt over Rain, bathing him in warm, golden light. A hand turned him on his side, reaching for the pouch at the back of his hip belt where he kept the cloth-wrapped Shadar horn gifted to him by Galad Hawks-heart.

“You must live, Feyreisen,” a voice commanded.

As Rain’s vision dimmed, and his breath strangled in his throat, he wanted to tell them not to bother. Ellysetta’s face was frozen in a rictus of pain, her eyes as dark as dead stars. The sight shattered his heart, leaving hope a dead thing in his breast.