Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 41.2: Forevermore

CW for death, violence and gore. Discussions of death and cadavers. Please be careful reading if this makes you uncomfortable
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Though the climb back up was equally as spine-chilling, it was worse when halfway up, Ella began to hear the sounds of battle. Clanging metal and muffled yells, the occasional flare of fire.

It made the idea of falling down the shaft a forgotten one, anxious as she was to get above ground.

Clinging to the top of the ladder, she poked her head above the ground. An oil lamp had been tossed to the side, the dull, flickering light illuminating the remnants of the battle.

Three shadowed figures lay in heaps on the ground, the unnatural sprawl of their limbs and their stillness showing they were out for the count, likely dead.

A bear-headed wrachyd battled Gidden, darkened fingers casting intricate figures in the air and lobbing balls of malignant energy. Gidden side-stepped the projectiles and parried them with his sword, the metal clanging and sparking each time, his features bathed in the refracting light.

Aedion sparred with two hulking wrachyd, which she recognised as guards by the massive clubs and scythes they wielded. Aedion faced them head-on, keeping them at bay with his sword in one hand and a fire-engulfed hand in the other.

Far off, hidden by the shadows, a wily Wrachyd tried to escape, a bulging sack underarm that glowed faintly. The stones.

Pushing up on her arms, Ella crawled out of the shaft and broke into a sprint, her hand glowing with a halo of shadows.

She aimed it at the wrachyd, and the creature barely managed to dodge, sidestepping at the last minute.

It turned, hands twisting and casting, and squeezed its fist. Ella felt the contraction in her stomach as if her guts had been crushed. She gasped, almost bending into herself, but propelled forward, lunging herself at the wrachyd.

Teeth bared to stave off the pain, she balled her fists and lobbed another shadow ball.

Forced to use both hands to defend itself, the wrachyd dropped the sack of stones. With one hand it raised a shield made of blazing red light, with the other, it continued to squeeze and maim Ella's body.

Ella felt its invisible hands, clawing at her sides, squeezing her lungs and her stomach, battering against her legs.

Her body protested, but she pushed past the blooming pain and managed to snatch a long knife strapped to her thigh. With trembling hands, her fingers pinched the blade and she tossed it.

It spun through the air, skipping past the wrachyd's defence barrier, and sank into the centre of its chest.

Immediately, the shield of red ceased, and the creature sank to the ground in a heap of black cloth.

Ella drew in a gulp of air, the crushing weight around her stomach easing, but she had little time to rest. With another knife clasped, she warily approached the fallen wrachyd, ready to apprehend it.

In the flickering lights of the lantern, the creature didn't move, nor did it make any sounds of distress. Tense, Ella nudged it with the point of her boot, to no avail. No sounds, no flinches, nothing.

The knife she'd lobbed had been precise, sinking into the creature's abdomen, but it wasn't enough to instantly kill it. It would have flailed, screamed, bled. No, this was all wrong.

With a sinking feeling, she knelt before the wrachyd and hastily yanked the skeleton mask from its face. Then, she stumbled backwards, a gasp caught in her throat.