Standing before Ayre, Jace and Kerse watch as she steps forward. Her sword glitters in her grasp from the ice that melts down the length of the blade. She spares a glance back at Soren where he stands with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.
“Stay back, Soren. I can handle them.”
Jace glances over her shoulder. He doesn’t understand why Soren is even staying to watch. It seems careless. Or perhaps, he’s simply arrogant. Regardless, Jace finds he doesn’t care at the moment. He’ll take whatever openings he’s blessed with.
“Full power or no?” asks Kerse as she falls into a defensive stance, her arms drawn a little closer to her chest.
“Not until I need to in case we have to deal with him next. You can if you want.”
“You start then, leader.”
Jace can feel the power radiating off of Kerse as she pushes her own magic out to disrupt her visage. A small horn curls up through her bangs while a tail flicks out behind her legs before lifting up. It loosely curls around her waist, keeping out of the way.
He’s not in the least bit surprised that she’s going all out at the start.
Not wanting to give Ayre the chance to move first, Jace pulls his right arm back while conjuring the fire in his palm. He glances at Kerse, watching how her heels dig into the grass before lunging forward. Her speed is as fast as the vertical wave of fire he sends at the ground.
It’s as tall as Kerse and as thin as paper as it races toward Ayre. Even so, they reach Ayre at the same time and force her to choose. She sidesteps the flames, trying to dose them by flinging a small burst of ice at them. The fire devours her magic with ease and scorches her heels as she turns to slash through the air.
Kerse hops back to dodge the swing. Poison slings off the tips of her armored gloves; one dose from the left and then another from the right. The small blotches can’t be batted away as easily and pepper down Ayre’s left arm.
They continue to dance around each other with more drips of poison landing on Ayre’s person. All the while, Jace is slowly approaching as he throws fist-sized balls of fire to keep her from getting away from Kerse. He cuts off every exit with ease.
Her ice magic is waning. It’s too thin and frail to even try to put the fire out. It melts nearly instantly each time. All she can do is keep moving.
Jace is careful not to aim any of his fire at Kerse. Even if it does get close, her instincts and battle-hardened mind keep her dodging in time. As she gets closer to Ayre, she finally grabs the sword as it comes down at her. A grin spreads across Kerse’s face as Jace runs forward to close the distance he’s kept from them.
“You don’t stand a chance against me like that.”
“At least I’m not a failure,” Ayre snarls in reply.
Kerse’s grip tightens around the sword, the thin plating preventing her from getting cut. As she does, she brings her other fist up. Punching Ayre in the face forces her to stumble with her head whipping to the side. The armor from Kerse’s gloves scratches against Ayre’s cheek as she pulls away.
Tugging on the blade, she intends to draw Ayre forward for another hit. The second she does, Ayre frees a hand to punch at Kerse. A fist that Kerse catches and digs the tips of her claws into. Furrowed brows are all Kerse is given.
No scream. No shout.
Only a stomp to the ground that has ice slicking the grass beneath their feet. The gut reaction is for Kerse to pull away, finally releasing her hold on the sword as well as Ayre’s fist. Regardless, a smirk decorates her countenance. A little touch is all she needs to let her poison spread.
Ayre slides back and stomps again, forcing long, skinny spikes of ice to rise up like a bed of needles between the two of them. Every step she takes away from Kerse leaves melting ice in her wake. Even so, Jace is cautious.
A small ball of fire hits the ground between the women to dissipate what was there. All the while he hurries to Ayre’s side. The swing of her sword is one he chances, moving forward even still. Close enough, he grabs her wrist and tightens his grip.
The heat in his hand burns through her wrist braces as she struggles to get away. The heel of one foot slams against his toes at the same time she punches at his chest. The ice she forms in her hand as she pulls it back doesn’t alarm him in the slightest.
Grunts of pain leave Ayre as he finally begins to burn her skin. Yet she doesn’t move away. Instead, she forms the icicle in her hand and stabs up at Jace, intending to find his core.
He brings his hand up in time to melt the icy dagger before clutching his fingers around her now closed and empty fist. The fire that had destroyed her attempt at an attack encompasses her hand where his fingers touch.
Unable to take it any longer, a scream rips from her lips. She yanks back at the same time that Jace shoves her away. Slipping on the wet grass, she falls backward yet never lets go of her sword. The instant he steps up to her, she swings at him.
An attack that never lands as Kerse is at his side, snatching the blade as it scratches over her waist. She applies more poison to the metal, watching as it drips down and begins to deteriorate the metal the more she focuses on it.
Ayre releases the sword and looks past them both.
Jace watches something change in her expression. There’s a softness to it before she lowers her head and rises to her feet. One, two, three steps back as she creates a makeshift katana from ice that barely holds form.
The long blade does little to scare either of them. Only when she kicks off the ground to rush them do they spring into motion. Ayre’s motions are weak and sloppy. The ice scarcely holds itself together to do any damage other than dampening their clothes or skin.
On the other hand, burns decorate her arms with each swing Jace parries away. All for Kerse to leave small cuts across her arms and legs. Even her back. Anywhere to allow more poison to slip in and hinder her further.
Enough that Kerse can slip behind Ayre and throw an arm around her, yanking the woman back into a headlock. The ice turns to water as the sword hits the ground at Ayre’s feet. She refuses to give up as she claws and grabs Kerse’s arm. Anything to try and freeze her and get away.
Jace watches her as he strides closer, not wary in the slightest. Her magic is nearly gone and the poison only helps. There’s no need for him to touch a sliver of his magic. Not when Kerse has poured all of her effort into wearing Ayre down with relative ease.
“Why are you letting him kill you like this? Whatever you’re doing isn’t worth dying for.”
Ayre glares up at him. While she may be weak now, her eyes are fierce and burn with a rage he knows he can’t quell. “You don’t know anything!”
Slinging an elbow back, she nails Kerse well enough for the woman to loosen her grip. The second she does is when Ayre dips down to slip out of the headlock. Except she’s not fast enough. Jace is already in front of her when she stands back up.
The flurry of punches is something he bats away quickly. The kick to his shin hurts, to say the least, yet he doesn’t let it bother his stance. He remains rooted to the spot, patiently waiting to catch her fists as they fly. To him, her hand-to-hand combat is severely lacking. It’s nothing like going up against Kerse.
Jace catches her fists in each of his hands and takes one step forward, bearing his weight down on her. Enough so that she’s forced to buckle and drop to one knee.
“Is he worth it?” he asks quietly.
“He’ll continue our dream. But you won’t make it out of here.”
The dark green mask begins to freeze as it rests over her face. It mimics the way ice begins to spread out from where her other knee hits the ground, the same as the first. It’s only then that Jace realizes what she’s doing.
Her soul isn’t strong enough to support her magic. It’s corroded and can’t harness it the way she should be able to. But, if she were to let it all out she wouldn’t need to control it. It’d simply explode out of her with every ounce of energy left in her body.
The thin walls of ice that lift up to surround the three of them are something Kerse tries to punch through. Yet they’re quick, relentlessly so. Despite how fragile they may be, layers upon layers of them reinforce their defense until Kerse’s armored knuckles barely leave a dent in the fourth layer.
Jace takes a deep breath, watching as the ice begins to snake up over his knuckles and cover his arms. He doesn’t have a choice. Not if he needs to stop her before she loses control. There’s no telling how far her magic will splinter out like shrapnel when she releases her hold.
He can’t take the chance by doing anything less than his full potential.
Silver eyes begin to glow as the whites of his eyes darken. Dark blue horns appear from the back of his head and curl up over the top and toward his eyes. They’re only solid for a moment before they shift into a transparent form that shimmers and glows like his eyes. Small wisps of bright white energy circle the horns as they cast a sheen of light across his dark hair.
They’re the only warning sign for her to stop. His words convince her of nothing and his power even less. The flames from his hands melt away the ice that had tried to spread over his body. From his feet, it does the same and crawls out toward the icy walls around them.
Jace stares at the hands that have begun to turn to ice themselves, melting in his grasp. It extends down her arms and begins to overtake her much like the cage of ice. Melting and cracking, the layers she built up drop in a splash of water to the ground in the next second.
Letting out a breath, he watches as her arms fall to her sides. Fire licks up to her shoulders. He stares hard at her body and waits for his sight to shift. For the world to turn dark so that he can pinpoint her core. The weak, barely glowing thing that it is.
“Soren!”
Her final scream echoes through the field as Jace applies further pressure with his magic. The fire races from her shoulders to her stomach. There it burrows in and burns. He keeps a hold on her until he’s sure that her plans and energy are spent. Blinking, he watches as her body is already beginning to dissipate. Flecks of sparkling dust fall to the ground as he finally lets his power subside.
His form steadily begins to return to normal with the horns vanishing from where the hair had parted for them. He lifts his gaze at the sound of Kerse clicking her tongue in annoyance as her gloves vanish. Kerse hisses between her teeth, “He’s getting away.”
Jace turns in time to see Zye sprinting past them with the help of his rifts. He’s faster than anything Jace has seen, slipping from one to the other in smaller ranges to not waste as much magic. The only problem is while he’s proud Zye’s managed that, he knows that Zye is headed straight for Soren.
The very man who’s slipping through a portal that he’s summoned. Jace stares after Zye. The last thing he sees is the flourish of the coat as it vanishes into the portal behind Soren. The two of them go to who knows where.
A barely audible, breathy laugh slips from Ayre’s lips. It forces Jace to return his attention to her regardless of the anxiety that’s blossoming in the pit of his stomach. She glares up at him as her body continues to fade. Even so, there’s a cruel smile on her lips. Easily pronounced as it is despite the remains of her mask on her face.
“He’ll die. You’ll know…what it’s like…to be powerless.”
Jace clenches his teeth and pivots, grass ripping up from the heel of his boot as he does. He makes it two steps before he’s yanked to a stop. He glances over his shoulder, demanding an answer from Kerse who keeps him from following after Zye.
“Are you sure you can locate him?”
“I should be able to.”
He cuts his eyes away from how Ayre is simply gone. All that’s left is her small yellow orb. It glows so dimly, barely even showing the soft sheen from around the inky black that taints it. He can’t imagine catching up to find Zye in the same state.
Ayre’s last words poison his thoughts no different from Kerse’s magic. It has his chest tightening as he struggles to focus. He has to be able to sense where Zye ended up.
“Jay!”
Jace looks up as Callua runs up to him with Ren in toe, practically dragging him by the wrist. Beside her, Orion follows close with his eyes shifting about in case anything else shows up. Callua lets go of Ren and hurries to Jace. Beside him, Kerse lets go of his wrist and steps aside to pick up Ayre’s soul.
“Jay, Ren can take you. Please, go.”
Orion nods in agreement. “And I’m going with you. Everyone can clean up here. The teams you brought in did a good job.”
Behind them all, Ren lets out an irritated huff as he conjures a portal for them to go through. “I am not going.”
“No, you’re not.” Orion gestures to Kerse as she returns to their side. “Kerse, keep a hold on him so he doesn’t get away.”
Jace is already at the edge of the portal with Orion on his heels. He idles there and it’s not because Ren speaks up. “I put you on the main floor of his hideout. It’s an old house. There’s a door that goes down to the basement. A deep basement.”
“Alright,” Jace shifts to meet Kerse’s gaze. “We’ll secure the area and send a signal for a team of whoever is healed enough to station there.”
Orion crosses his arms, displeased with the delay. “We need to hurry, Jace. Every second with Soren is too long.”
Jace ignores him. He holds out his hand and smiles softly at Callua. “Do you want to come with us? No… Will you come with us?”
Her eyes widen and her throat tightens. She shoves away from Kerse and Ren to hurry to his side. Orion is stepping through the portal as she clasps her hand to Jace’s. He wraps his fingers tightly around her smaller ones and leads her through the portal.
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19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnbk8WlhO1R
On the other side, they’re met with bright lights hanging from the ceiling of the small entry room. Outside of the open doorway is nothing but darkness. Pitch black to where even their enhanced vision can’t see. It’s as if the glare of light above them makes everything else darker.
Jace notes that there is a room off to the left and to the right is a larger, more open area. Perhaps a living room with the typical furnishings to blend in should someone come inside. Straight ahead, however, seems to be a hallway. A darkness that stretches on for what looks to be forever.
“We need to find this door,” Jace grumbles.
Callua squeezes his hand once before letting go. “H-hold on, let me see if Ren can tell me exactly where it is.”
“You linked with him?”
“Of course not!”
“Quiet, both of you.” Orion cuts them both off with a hushed tone. “They’re here.”
Jace steps forward to stand in the doorway that faces the long corridor. Focusing, he can sense them before he sees them. Before him in the distance are three sets of bright azure eyes that pierce through the darkness. Bodies darker than the dark amble forward with tentacles hanging from their bodies.
Each one looks the same as the other. Tall, nearly to the ceiling, with two tentacles on either side below their arms that sway at their sides. From the outer sides of their legs come one more each. Those drag across the floor behind them with every step.
Suddenly, Jace feels like it’s rather fitting. A nearly black floor at his feet with deep crimson walls around them. Even the light can’t make the room brighter.
It’s a house of death.
Orion stretches his fingers out in front of him. “Jace and I can handle these three if you can locate the door.”
“Got it.”
Jace slips out into the large open area first with fire lighting up his clenched fists. He waits patiently for Orion to make quick work of the situation. His gaze follows the shimmer of strings that wind around two of them. It leaves one free for Jace to run toward, punching relentlessly at the Nether’s chest.
If one of the tendrils lifts from the floor, he quickly stomps on it and applies a burst of fire that destroys it. As well as scorching the floor beneath it. Jace doesn’t care to hold back, only deliver a flurry of blows to all three in an attempt to weaken them.
It makes it easier for Orion to begin slicing through each of them as Jace wears them down. They’re done within moments as the Nether burst into dust that dissipates as it hits the floor. Jace stares down at them and then the hallway, hoping there aren’t any more.
They don’t have time for this.
“I found it! Back of the room close to where we were, don’t bump into the couch.”
Jace lifts his hand and chances it, lighting the room up as he holds a ball of fire in his hand. Orion hurries to him and then to the right where Callua gives a small wave. He sees what she means.
The large burgundy couch has been shoved far away and up against another chair. With it moved, Callua has pulled the thick rug away from the wall. Far enough to reveal a large trapdoor set into the floor. At first glance, it doesn’t have any way of opening it either.
No handles. No knobs. Nothing.
Jace drops to one knee before it and places his hand on the surface. It seems like it’s some type of wood. That only means it’s easier to burn. He doesn’t hesitate. The hand with the fire to give them light he keeps to the side while the other begins to set the door aflame.
Jace stops only once it’s ash that covers the stone stairs that are revealed. The smell of burnt wood barely registers for him. All he knows is that Callua’s hand falls on his shoulder once he’s finished.
“I hate it already. How far down does it go?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll go first, then you, then Orion.”
From behind them both, Orion speaks up. “I’ll send a message to let them know the first area is clear.”
Slowly, Jace rises to his feet and takes that first step down. The stairs are solid stone. If he’s honest, they seem a bit steep as well. He can feel the way Callua’s fingers nervously drum against his back as they steadily begin to descend into this strange basement.
As they do, Jace brings the flame he holds a little closer. He curls his fingers around it to keep the light from projecting too far. About ten steps down and he hears it.
A loud, soul-shaking clang of a sound that surely doesn’t mean anything good. Worse yet with how it echoes up the stairs to meet them. There’s no telling how far down he has to go and he knows he has to take it cautiously no matter how badly he wishes he were down there already.
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