Snap

Elayne’s low growl seems to have slowed the soldiers’ advance. She can’t see their faces, but she can feel them sizing her up.

Nevertheless, they step forward, driving Elayne back — closer and closer to the wall behind her.

She notices her footing is shaky. She flicks her eyes down for a split second. Her legs are trembling.

"Stupid legs," she mutters under her breath, taking one hand off her sword to smack her thigh.

She can't stop the memories of Silverquay from flooding her mind: her legs bound, lying on the ground beaten and defenseless.

She shakes her head, desperate to make it stop. But then, Randolf's voice rings out: "If you're ever fighting someone with a longer weapon, like a spear, close the distance between them instantly. Spears are no good against a short sword like yours if you get inside their reach."

Bending down, She claws at the ground, scooping up a handful of soil, and flings it at the soldier on the right with the pointed horns. Clumps of dirt slip through the slits of his helmet.

He takes a step back — and in that instant, Elayne pushes off the ground with all her might, flying toward the soldier. Her strike is aimed straight for his helmet, landing a devastating blow that dents it and sends him to his knees.

As she lands, the second soldier’s spear thrusts toward her chest. She jumps, but not in time — the tip slices down her leg. She falls to her bottom.

The right-hand soldier scrambles to his feet, and the two advance toward her. Suddenly, a figure leaps over the wall, crashing between Elayne and the soldiers. It's Randolf.

He looks back with a smirk. "I'd recognize that growling anywhere."

His head whips back and in a flash he's on top of the soldier with the curled-horns, thrusting his sword straight through his armor.

The other’s spear thrusts toward him. He yanks his sword free from the curled-horned soldier’s chestplate, the metal grating as he does, and sidesteps the follow-up thrust. The curled-horned soldier collapses to his side, blood spilling out of his armor.

The straight-horned soldier pulls his spear back for another thrust. Randolf deflects it into the air, throwing the soldier off balance. Seizing the moment, Randolf dashes in and drives his sword through the chestplate.

The soldier gasps as Randolf yanks the sword free, then goes limp, collapsing onto the grass.

Elayne watches, stunned. She realizes she never fully grasped what Randolf could do.

Randolf tears a sleeve from his blue tunic and wraps it tightly around Elayne’s bleeding leg.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He lifts her with one arm and bounds effortlessly over the red brick wall.

>>>

Randolf races down the street, carrying Elayne.

"Is that you? Mister Second-in-Command?" A deep voice bellows behind them.

A demon man, tall and broad, approaches. With short deep-blue hair and curved horns pointing at his pale forehead, his dark silver armor clanking against the cobblestone.

"Listen, keep running down this road, and you should be able to make it out of the capital. Hopefully, you’ll find a purple carriage. If not, head toward the woods — there should be a log cabin there. It’s Angus’s cabin."

"Randolf!" she cries out.

"Just go!" he barks.

"You don’t look a day older, General Anpu." Randolf stomps toward the demon, sword at the ready.

“Oh, you remember me.” Anpu points his spear at him. It’s much longer and fancier than the others — the tip diamond-shaped rather than arrowhead-shaped, and the shaft made of a shimmering blue material, not wood.

“I would never forget the demon who butchered my knights,” Randolf snarls.

“I’ve been looking for an engaging opponent. And it seems you have the item I’ve been searching for, too.” Anpu gestures toward Elayne. “This should be fun!”

Elayne wonders if she’s missed something. The demon is now right in Randolf’s face. A blast of air follows him. The blast knocking Elayne to her butt.

Randolf jumps back as a flurry of spear strikes grazes his shoulders.

Clink!

Clang!

Randolf’s sword flicks across his body, the spear tip glancing off with every strike. Elayne can barely keep up as sparks fly.

Every parry produces an even more grating sound. Randolf is pushed back. Elayne watches each shaky step his boots take.

The metal scraping stops. The spear tip lodges in Randolf’s right shoulder.

“Ha ha ha,” the demon bellows. “You never were fast enough for me, I was hoping you'd give me more of a challenge this time."

Randolf gasps as the spear is yanked out of his shoulder, falling to his knee as the blunt end of the spear slams into his face. He's sent rolling down the street.

"Randolf!" Elayne scrambles to her feet, but a sharp pain from her stomach sends her right back to her knees. The demon’s fist is buried in her stomach.

Everything goes black.

>>>

Elayne awakens to the sound of scraping metal. She lifts her head from the cobblestone street. In her daze, she can barely follow the fight — the movements are too fast — but it seems the demon is being pushed back.

Suddenly, the demon’s deep voice rises in a pained scream. Randolf slashes through the armor on the demon’s leg. Anpu’s knee buckles, but he jerks it back up with a desperate spear strike aimed at Randolf’s head. Randolf dodges just in time.

As Anpu collapses to his knee, Randolf plunges his sword through the chestplate. The demon crumples to the ground.

Randolf swings the blood off his sword before slipping it back into its sheath. He jogs over to Elayne, his breaths sharp and pained.

Randolf cradles her in both arms as they speed down the street. Something warm spreads over her legs — blood. His blue tunic is soaked.

"Randolf! You're blee—"

Elayne's cut off as Randolf topples.

He lifts his head off the stone. "Keep going. Find your mother, Catalina, and Osric," he croaks.

"No, you're coming too!" She yanks at his shirt, pulling him up.

Elayne manages to pull Randolf into her arms and she staggers forward.

"Randolf? Where are they?" she asks.

No reply.

"Randolf!?" His lifeless legs drag behind her.

She takes another step, and a sharp pain shoots up her leg. She collapses to the ground, staring at her own leg — the makeshift bandage completely soaked through.

Randolf's lifeless body ragdoll-rolls in front of her.

"Randolf!!"

***

Blocked by the giant stone slab that erupted in front of them, the carriage spins around. Osric watches through the cubbyhole as Cinder fiercely whips the reins. The horses speed up with every lash.

The carriage barrels through the line of soldiers and the robed man. But as it does, the horses squeal and collapsing — multiple spears stuck throughout their bodies. The carriage slides to a halt.

"Shit!" Osric grumbles as he opens the carriage door. "We gotta go!" he yells to Catalina and Helen.

Osric helps them down as they pull up their dresses.

He looks back and sees the demon soldiers, who had been scattered across the street, beginning to regain their bearings.

"Let's go, Cinder!" Osric calls as he passes. Cinder sits on the carriage bench clutching her shoulder, a broken spear lodged in it.

"You go ahead, Sir Osric," Cinder says, hopping off the carriage.

"No! Cinder, you're hurt!" Osric pleads.

"Please!" Catalina adds.

“Go. I’ll hold them off.” Cinder lifts her skirt, revealing white straps around her legs, each holding small throwing knives.

She slips a knife between each finger and sprints toward the charging soldiers.

"Cinder!" Osric screams.

"Osric, let's go." Helen tugs at his cloak.

>>>

The three shimmy down a tight alleyway that opens up into another vast road.

Catalina hesitates for a second, glancing back and forth before pointing to her left. "This way — Angus' cottage!"

While dashing down the street, Osric is struck by an abhorrent sight: what he believes are several men lying covered in blood. He doesn’t stop to confirm — they keep racing.

With a crackling sound, mist engulfs them. As Osric swats at it, a giant wall of ice — its jagged points towering above the buildings — suddenly appears, blocking the road.

“Come with me quietly, little one.” A demon steps from an alleyway, his horns long — far longer than any Osric has ever seen — and his deep blue hair flowing. He wears a thick, shoulder-padded blue coat buttoned to the neck with golden buttons. His black shoes clop against the street as his blue pants sway with each step.

"What do you want with me?" Osric demands.

"You are to come with me. There's no need for force."

"Don't get even one step closer to my baby," Catalina yells, stepping in front of Osric to shield him.

"Mother, just stay back!" Osric pushes her, and she stumbles into Helen's arms.

"Light this flame, Ignis Pila!" he chants, pointing his palm at the demon now only a few paces away.

The demon reaches into his coat pocket, pulls out a small book, and thrusts the open page toward him. The magic circle on the page ignites in white light, and the fireball forming in Osric’s hand vanishes.

“There’s no need for violence, boy.” Above the demon’s head, multiple long, sharp icicles materialize.

Osric exhales, unsure if it’s despair or anger. I can’t do anything without my magic. We’re screwed.

"Catalina, Helen, get out of here. He's after me — save yourselves!" Osric shouts.

Catalina charges the demon. "Osric, run!"

With a snap of his fingers, the icicles fly toward her.

"Catalina, no!" Helen screams.

Osric watches in disbelief as two icicles shoot right through her.

“Catalina, what the hell are you doing?” Tears well in Osric’s eyes as she crumples to the ground.

He rushes to her side and rolls her over. She spits up blood, her brown dress soaking in it.

“Why are you still here? I’ll distract him — you run,” she says between coughs of blood.

“Distract him? You’re bleeding out,” Osric's tears mixing with the blood on her clothes.

She raises a shaky arm and places his cheek.

“I’m sorry… sorry I wasn’t a good enough mother to raise the new Sage.” Just as she finishes the last word, her neck gives out, and her head slams against the stone.

“Catalina!”

Snap!

Osric looks up just as an icicle pierces his stomach. The blistering cold freezes him from the inside out as it tears through his organs.

I don't want to do this anymore... His last thought before darkness swallows him.