Hated by her lineage, Iliya Dalaminai dwells in self isolation, awaiting the day her cousin marries so she might escape the Throne.
Feared by the Gods, Sorein Chakrine's crown is mainly a relic put on display at royal ceremonies to ward off evil.
Wh...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He didn't understand.
Couldn't understand – not as the Aphyre's Mana imploded against Iliya's in a blast of light and fire.
Sorein's screams were washed out by the sound of fractured crystal shards and wind, a wicked storm of power slamming Iliya into the metal plated walls.
She choked, gasping for breath on the floor and pushed onto her elbow.
He launched into action, dropping to his knees next to her. Sorein wrapped them in a cloak storm and static, attempting to shield them from the erratic fire consuming the chamber.
"Sorein," she rasped, coughing again.
He noticed the small drip of blood in the corner of her mouth, his heart racing.
"What? What's wrong?"
"R-Rein," she stammered again, trying and failing to sit up. "The portal..."
The walls rattled around them, chunks of the ceiling collapsing until holes revealed the Sanctuary above them. Scooping her body up off the ground, Sorein dragged Iliya away from one of the larger panels of metal.
She was trembling against him, smacking his arm. Hard. Iliya hissed out words that were covered with the building's collapse, her free hand pointing behind him.
To the portal.
He turned just in time to see the Taqrias climbing out of the portal. A dozen of them with solid, muscled forms and brazen red eyes. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he realized what she'd meant. They weren't simply the mindless creatures from Niorier, these were souls. Corrupted souls with consciousness and Mana.
Iliya pushed his chest, separating them as she crawled to her knees.
"What are you doing?" he snapped.
She shook her head, head lolling as she tried to support herself. No more words, only actions.
Golden strands of light ebbed from her fingertips as a cold smirk lined Iliya's lips.
"They have souls," she muttered, studying her fingers. "They have souls this time."
"What are you talking about?"
Iliya shook her head. "So long as they have souls, I have the upper hand."
Sorein drew his sword, steadying his mind before he lunged inward. He didn't want to find out what she had in mind, only aware that her Raesa held power over the living.
He knew the Taqrias were undead.
They fought in sync, side by side as if they'd been training together for centuries. When he would slash one down, Iliya would guard and dismantle the next.
Sorein watched her cleanly rip into the soul of each demon one by one, her golden light purifying them from the inside out.
His teeth gritted from the impact of a blow to the ribs, Sorein couldn't regroup fast enough to protect Iliya from a blow to the side of her head.
