Ch 33: Eclipse.

An opulent silhouette of red and gold. She looked otherworldly, the way her pristine red dress contrasted the dark chasm and its network of rustic metal panels and staircases.

A flash of flames. Flying sparks.

Moon leaped backwards. For the first time in this encounter, Moon wasn’t advancing. His steps were quick. Much quicker than before.

“I can’t believe my eyes,” he rubbed the eyes of his uncanny mask theatrically, “What’s the flame doing out of her lantern?”

The immense pressure. The dark crimson hair. There was no mistake. The person who now stood between the Moon Priest and the Spearhead was the Queen of Flames.

“Moon.” She said, with a stoic expression. It was just as she had expected. She thought it to be a possibility, one she feared. But her creeping dread only proved itself correct.

“What business do you have on this fine night!” he gestured, arms waving into the night sky.

But Hellia didn’t reply. Instead, she lunged forward, cyclones of flames in her fist. Metres away, Ace could feel the waves of heat pricking at his skin.

“Chill out! I thought we were friends??” Moon said with a whine, reappearing on a nearby support pillar.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you're referring to, my dear.”

“Is that how it’s going to be, huh?” Flames burst from her palms, brooding till the blaze consumed her fists entirely. “That’s fine. I’ll burn you till I get it out of you.”

Moon let out a loud cackle. “It always amuses me. The bizarre beliefs of those abandoned by the light”.

Hellia closed the distance in an instant, her blazing fist illuminating the eerie crescent mask.

POOM!

A bassy thump followed by the sound of burning haze bursting in all directions. Just before connecting, Hellia’s fist collided with a blue barrier, releasing an aftershock of flaming vortexes that ricocheted outwards. The barrier cracked slightly, splintering at the edges.

Only parted by the thin, crumbling barrier, their faces were inches apart. They locked eyes. Hellia’s searing orange eyes with narrow slits gazed into the hollow sockets of Moon’s mask.

Then, the barrier collapsed, and a plume of smoke rose into the air.

It seemed like Moon was trying to keep the distance. But Hellia had other plans.

“Sixth Echelon,” she chanted, waving each arm in an arc, forming fireballs around her. Her eyes burned bright, her silhouette glowing as her dress swayed in the air. “Blessed by the light of the eternal sun, I condemn you with the flames of hell—Cage Of Fire.”

Moon zipped between the platforms, swerving between tubes, pillars, and stairs as the fireballs split up and arced towards him like homing missiles. He managed to shake a few off, exploding with fumes as they were caught between the obstacles. But there were too many to escape. As they surrounded and cornered him, the fireballs linked together, forming a shrinking cage with no space to escape.

“HAHAHAHAA” Moon released a shrieking cackle as the cage collapsed, engulfing him in flames.

Then, the laughter multiplied, his voice echoing and mirroring itself through the chasm. The Spearhead watched in horror as Moon emerged from the smoke. And another one. And a third, fourth, fifth. Now, eight Moon Priests were bursting in different directions, their mocking laughter resounding through the hollow metal tubing.

Each of the eight had slightly different masks, representing each of the moon’s lunar phases.

Hellia retreated, dropping to the same platform as the Spearhead as two Moons pursued.

An illusion?

From the left, one charged a spell circle in their palm as the other lunged right at her. Hellia formed a spear out of fire, swatting away the incoming projectiles, which dispersed into light blue shimmers. Next, she thrust the spear forward, causing a surge of heat to create distance. No, they're real. Each one can cast spells.

Mira was gripping the sweaty handle of her polearm, her eyes flickering between the Moons lurking on different platforms. The decision to fight alongside Hellia wavered in her mind. Would she only get in her way? Watching the battle unfold, her answer was ‘probably’ and as such she cursed her own lack of strength through gritted teeth.

Hiro was deep in thought. His heart racing even faster than Hellia's or Moon’s, despite not even being in the fray. It was the fear of making the wrong decision—one that would have catastrophic consequences.

It's a last resort. That’s what Hiro kept telling himself. But as the fight progressed, things were only looking more bleak. His fingers trembled on the phone in his pocket.

It would mean Ace and I would survive…but everyone else…But if that’s what it takes to survive…A last resort. Only if it comes down to it. Only if it looks like there’s no way out.

“Look at you acting all big and strong still.” One of the Moon’s said.

“What’s the matter?” Another replied.

“Are you…scared?” The Moon, with a waning crescent mask, taunted Hellia, its hands raised in the air.

Hellia scanned between the different Moons. The Queen of Flames had a fighting spirit since birth. Having been born into the royal family, blessed with a strong affinity for fire, and having the pressure of the crown from an early age, she had tempered an undying flame in her heart. Even when things weren’t looking her way, she calmed her thoughts and remained composed.

He duplicated himself. But every power and ability has its own condition and drawbacks. So what’s the catch? Each of the Moon’s has a mask with a different lunar phase. Is one of them the original?

Hellia closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on the aether in the air.

“Praying won’t save you, my dear.” One of the Moon’s sneered.

Though the immense density of aether was still there, it was more sparse, spread between each copy.

That’s it. You’ve split your power between the copies. Each copy seems to have the same aura, so is there not an original? Or is he suppressing it to hide amongst the other copies? They’re weaker, so I can kill each, one by one to try to find the original.

A rune circle. Hellia thrusted her spear forward, bursting the rune circle before the spell fired. Then, a silhouette in the corner of her eye. She turned, blitzing forward with a flurry of strikes, causing them to retreat.

There’s too many to keep track of. There’s no way I can single out the original.

“Hellia!” Hiro screamed, his voice echoing through the chasm. “His powers are tied to the moon. The main body is the Moon of the current phase!”

The current phase?

Hellia looked upwards, her view of the night sky cluttered with the network of platforms, staircases, and tubing.

I get it now. Why you chose this dismal, maze like chasm.

You picked the perfect place to trap your enemies—nooks and crannies to hide your body doubles, and down in the darkness, buried away from the night sky.

There’s no way I can single out the original now. They’re too quick for me to catch and try to kill each one. Unless… I destroyed all the copies at once with a single spell. Then he’d have no choice but to show himself.

Hellia looked back at the helpless faces of the Spearhead. Hiro was watching with bated breath. Mira’s grey eyes glistened, and her teeth were gritted, while Snow and Ace wore faces of defeat. From the absence of Oden and Shell, she had quickly gathered that they were either dead or somewhere deeper in the chasm, injured. Whether it was from indifference or understanding that there was no time in the heat of battle, she didn’t spare them a second thought.

If I turned the chasm into a hellfire, I’d be able to incinerate every single person. All eight of the copies and unveil the original. But that means turning the Spearhead to ash, too.

Memories of her most loyal subjects panned through her mind. The smell of grass in flowery springtime, the freezing thaw of missions through the dead of winter, the mountains of corpses in the wake of war, the Spearhead had stood with her through it all. Some longer than others, but they stood with her, nonetheless.

But if being the head of the Phoenix Syndicate had taught her anything, it was sacrifice. A few taking the fall so the many could thrive.

Her fiery eyes returned to the masked figures surrounding her.

I can’t let him escape. Not now. Not when I’ve finally got a lead. In war, information was everything. Right now, I’ve got one of the three Priests of Celestia in front of me. I can’t let him get away.

Then she made a decision.

Gathering all the aether in her palm, she began her chant. “Eighth Echelon,”

Hiro, Mira, and Snow’s eyes widened in horror.

“No, she can’t be,” Hiro muttered.

“She-She wouldn’t right?” Mira asked herself.

Snow collapsed. Her nervous system shutting down from the sudden flood of trauma.

Eighth Echelon was the highest tier of magic seen in the modern age. In Scaria, there was only one recorded use of such a powerful spell. An event that became a bookmark in history—the destruction of the merchant town Pickett into the Ashen City.

“I pray to the ancient beings that which fabricated the universe, show favour upon a mere mortal,”

“NO. NO. NO. S-SHE’S BLUFFING!” One of the Moons cried.

“Upon the blessing of the first fire, grant me the light of a thousand suns,”

Blinding circles and shapes gyrated around Hellia’s burning figure, her limbs becoming engulfed in flame. Runes permeated the air around, pulsating uncontrollably.

The Spearhead curled backwards, the light burning their eyes and their skin.

“Unsheathing the flames of Hell, banishing thy enemies to ash,”

“S-SHE’S CRAZY!” One of the Moon’s screamed, and in that moment, every copy launched toward Hellia at breakneck speed.

All but one.

There you are.

Hellia abandoned her casting, blasting toward the one Moon Priest who was darting to the top of the chasm. It was the one with the Full Moon mask. Like a rocket, her body engulfed in flames shot upward, melting any metal structure in its way.

She never needed to finish the spell; she only needed Moon to think she would.

Closing in on the Moon Priest, in her palm, she shot out a miniature sun. A blazing ball of fire that she was sure would turn the Moon Priest to ash. The chasm had worked in the Moon Priest’s favour, yet she still found a way to win the battle.

But when the ball was about to hit its target, it stopped for a second, the orange ball of fire turning into a shade of dark blue.

Someone had caught it and claimed it as their own. As their hand moved the blazing ball of blue to the side, it unveiled one more individual standing in front of the Moon Priest.

A figure covered in a murky red veil with a strange, unnerving circular mask, shaped like a sun.