15. The Battle, Decided

Eyarg'kli raged, tearing a battle map in his claws and giving up the pieces to the wind.

So close! Banralix xkin'okidoit teltecc! he screamed, throwing his inkwell against the wall and shattering it into a dozen pieces. Why were we defeated? Where were you, O Lord of Death, to lend us your strength when we needed it most?!

His door guard watched him seethe, worried that he might become the next target of aggression. Eyarg'kli indeed focused on him, but to rant rather than rend.

Were you there, fighting, watching your troops dying? Where you waiting for the Divine Slaughter that never came? No, you were here, safe and sound, were you not? Chaja jumiko fe'ginge poiq! the saurian lashed.

He drew his sword—a rather wicked blade with hooks all along its edge—preparing to strike. The guard shrank back against the stone wall, and as oblivion came down toward him he squeezed his eyes shut. Then he opened them again. He was not dead: the sword had sliced through the door instead of his body.

I only spare you because I don't want to have to find another guard, Eyarg'kli said slowly, fuming. Get out; I must collect my thoughts.

Yes sir. May He slaughter your foes, gave the lesser saurian as blessing before he backed out the door. Eyarg'kli waited for the guard's rapid footsteps to fade completely before turning away from where he had stood.

Why did you forsake us, Master? We did what you asked of us! he shouted out the window.

I did not, echoed a response through the room. It was cold, devoid of emotion. A beast brought about a force only my Peers can summon.

By Shalyon— he was wracked with agony in mere moments. How is that possible? He gasped for breath as the pain subsided.

It should not have been. Yet I felt it, was countered by a mere raccoon, one who would otherwise be so insignificant as to be below my notice. Find her. Find Koshos.

Yes, my Lord.

When you do, kill her. Slowly, so that she may experience the pain she delivered unto me.

Litam knew how to dig. It was a useful skill on a farm. So he did that. Briole collected flowers from a garden that had grown over. Mostly dandelions, but he made do with what was available. He laid the flowers on the freshly turned earth and said a prayer quietly. Litam bowed his head in respect.

They mounted their ormuffs and rode out of the village, toward the encampment.

I didn't know it was her, Briole— I'm— I'm sorry— the mouse said, trying to muster the words he couldn't find.

I know you are, the squirrel said. Litam fell quiet, unsure of what he could say. The pair continued to ride in silence, when Litam noticed the smoke rising from their destination. Briole saw it too, and looked to the mouse.

Ride, quickly, he snapped, and his ormuff shot off. Litam was afraid again. The battle had finished, yet something was wrong. He pushed his mount faster.

They arrived to find the remains of an army. There was no movement anywhere.

All the tents had been burned to ash. Everyone, everything was dead. The faces of those corpses not maimed by the battle were awash with terror. The form of an avy was crumpled before the mouse, its wings torn jaggedly from its body: it had been attacked mid-air and had fallen to its death.

No. There was one survivor. There, on the rock where Skenleth's game had been, sat the fox. Litam rushed to him. Staring at his gauntlets blankly, the fox shifted his gaze up to Litam. It revolted the mouse: his eye sockets had been hollowed out.

Letimpra wishes to speak with the kit, he intoned simply, and fell limp. Litam recoiled, and Briole immediately was there, catching the fox as he toppled over. Skenleth was still breathing, but that was all he did.

I'm sure he'll be alright, Litam. I heard what he told you. Take my sword. It is not enchanted as yours is— he choked on his words, —as yours was, but it is better than nothing.

Litam took the blade and stood up, wandering through the remains of the camp, stepping over bodies and trying not to look at them. They reminded him of the tower back in Subito. How he wished he could be a farmhand again! No more of this gallivanting across Tsesanne. Just home, where beasts spoke the same language he did, and where magic was merely an afterthought, not a way of life.

Home was gone.

Home was exploded. Home was obliterated. Home had vanished in a puff of smoke.

The only bright side Litam could find to this—and in the face of all these troubling things, the merit of it was questionable—was that there were no more pretario bean harvests to worry about.

Come here, kit.

Litam snapped out of his haze and looked up, raising Briole's sword high. Letimpra stood before him, far less imposing and frightening than she had been. Her wounds were gone, her fur regrown. A beast, patternless and devoid of colour: the epitome of the black cat.

In her eye sockets were Skenleth's eyes. They were his distinct blue shade, but as part of Letimpra's face, they were no longer strange to Litam: now they made him feel sick inside.

The mouse stepped back, bracing himself and pointing the sword at Letimpra. Stay back! I warn you!

Warn me? There is nothing you could dream of doing to harm me. To me, you are a mere plaything, and not one I have much interest in keeping, Letimpra said calmly. If she was at all afraid, she did not betray it to Litam.

Selassei said I was destined to save the World from you and Kveilaz. So if I were you, I'd— Litam started, but squeaked as the sword was pulled from his paws by an unseen force and skewered through solid bedrock six feet away.

As near as I can tell, Selassei is gone. I do not feel her presence for a thousand miles. She ran away, Litam. Ran away from me. Ran away from you. She was afraid of me, as you should be. The Higher Beast's eyes flooded with red—the same red as the Unholy Stones she was once imprisoned in. A casual smile crossed her muzzle.

You're lying.

Do you see her anywhere here to save you? She left this world, went back to the last one she abandoned. Or what is left of it. Don't you understand, you small, insignificant kit? You are alone. You cannot prevail.

Litam hesitated. He knew that Letimpra would lie to him if it gave her an edge. However, he found himself nodding, agreeing with her. She was toying with his mind, manipulating his thoughts within his head and using her dark magic to twist him.

It was too much. I am alone, she made him realize. He fell to his knees as an alien despair was forcibly flooded into his mind, overpowering him and leeching all of his defences.

Yes, Litam. Fear the truth. Kveilaz may thrive when beasts suffer the pains of death, but I thrive when their souls are in agony. Your last breath will come soon, kit, but not soon enough for you. You will beg for an end, one I shall not give to you until you are broken. Not that it will take long at all, for such a pathetic thing as you.

She crouched over him, her eyes blazing, and reached out hooked claws toward him.

Feel the very end of you, Litam of the family Witinh Hae. Feel all hope, all life as it drains from your pitiful form. Feel death as it slowly overtakes you.

Litam was in agony. Letimpra was tearing at his senses, inducing pain where none should have existed. He cried out. It was too late though, and his world began to go dark.

Goodbye, Litam. You are a pest. A bug I am going to swat. It was the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness.

Letimpra lifted Litam's body into the air without touching him, ready to crush his head as she would a grape. She paused briefly and then—

Letimpra! Let him go!

You are too late, bane of mine! This world is at its end! she answered defiantly, turning to face Selassei, dropping Litam to the ground as she did so.

There the empress stood, even more battered than she had been before. She was not alone, though. Beside her stood an ermine, soft chestnut fur under a cloak, upon which was embroidered a map of every star in the night sky. He spoke to Letimpra.

Return to your prison, isaaén! said Chedti, freed from the entrapment of his struggle with Maceste.

Where is Maceste—? No, it does not matter—he could not kill you, but you will still die with the rest! Letimpra wailed and unleashed a barrage of pure malice at him. Both he and Selassei were knocked backward and Letimpra, with the upper hand, immediately moved in for the kill.

Litam pried his eyes open and saw Letimpra's feet as she began to stride toward Chedti. He stood up shakily, and ran for her, taking the sword of a nearby soldier in his paw. She spun around and effortlessly pushed him up into the air, throwing him far away. Turning back to her prey, she was confronted with Chedti face-to-face.

Too late.

She reached for his throat, but she was up in the air, nearing Litam, then speeding higher. The ermine, with the help of Selassei's magics, threw the black cat into the sky above, and with every ounce of strength the two could muster, forged her into the heart of the Sun Spirit itself. The elemental immediately blazed again, brighter than ever as he received a meal fit for a thousand of his kind. The sky lit up, vibrant blue, and a gust of warm wind raced across the land as the light was instantly everywhere.

It exploded through Tsesanne, and where it met with Kveilaz's and Nikros' Black Army, it turned dark back to light, saurian back to beast, bloody weapon back to hoe and pitchfork.

It passed by Koshos, who had been told to run from the army as soon as the battle was over, lest revenge for her actions be brought upon her. As she weaved through a thicket, she heard a loud crash behind her: the saurian, named Eyarg'kli, who had been about to take her life had fallen to the ground, a lifeless, crumpled mass. The light could not transform him back to beast, for there was not enough good left in him to bring forth.

It shot through Hedjeria with such force that it blew away the altars of desecration where beasts lay in torture. They found themselves lying on the grass or sand or stone path, looking up at a sky they thought had left them forever.

It poured through Mitaria, where it scared King Nikros so much that he fled on griffin-back immediately with all of his heirs, none of whom were ever heard from again. The Mitarian people chose a new king, a rather well-known skunk-duke who ceased his guerilla war and emerged from hiding to lead the people again. Annil was coronated as the new king, and he immediately set about reversing the damage Nikros had done.

None of this, however, was witnessed by Litam. He was already dead.

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