Claws of Daylight

Thirty-Two.

"Warping is for the foolish. Only an ascended master could do so without killing himself." — from the Arcana

~~~

Briar knew those hounds. The fierceness of their baying was apparent even though the sound was still far off.

Those were Leith's hounds. And they had caught her scent.

Briar didn't let the realization distract her. If she was to go to her death, she would do so with a fight. The least she could do before she was killed by the hounds, or her brother, or Nyxia, was to try and save Rook if she could.

Something had been sweltering inside Briar since the moment she first clapped eyes on Nyxia. Something old and angry and to her advantage.

Something that wanted to see her age-old enemy killed.

Briar dove deeper into the feeling, like she did with the magic, and she let both consume her.

The light burst from her brighter than it ever had before. It filled the dungeon like the earth's first sunrise, flaming gold. For a split second, she saw Nyxia's face etched in surprise. Scowling, she leaped back as though the light pained her. Burned her.

And then Orla ran at her sister, releasing a primal scream birthed from a thousand years of anger and nearly thirty years of fear.

The surprise on Nyxia's face was replaced with cold confidence. She spread her arms apart and a wall of darkness came to douse her light like water. Briar staggered back, as if struck, her heart suddenly frozen.

As she blindly slashed the frigid air with her sword, she called on the magic again. It flickered weakly this time. She was too inexperienced against a dark like this.

I need you, Briar told her magic frantically. Please.

Her light flared back to life, met by another light streaming in from behind her.

Rook.

The anguished cry of pain that came struck Briar like a knife. His light dimmed.

"Oh," Nyxia said. "Is this how it's going to go, Rook dear?" She was skirting the edge of Briar's light. The way she moved reminded Briar of a cat. "Try and fight me all you want, but you bound yourself to me. Your time is short. You are slipping into my grasp. You won't be able to kill me now, even if you try."

Rook struggled, grimacing, like an intense ache throbbed in his head. "Maybe," he said. "But I can still defend her."

"So heroic," Nyxia said. "So noble. Well, alright. You can both try your best against me. I have had no entertainment these last two hundred years. I am overdue for some."

Rook's light faltered and his eyes glazed over. He swayed as if he was going to fall. Briar lunged, catching him. She grunted against his weight and leaned back, trying to offset it with her own.

Briar called on the magic and sent it to where Nyxia was still slinking in the shadows. It left her free hand in a huge mass of white light and shot with such force that it knocked Nyxia off her feet. Her neck snapped back, her head hitting the stone wall.

Briar turned to Rook. His eyes were vacant, mesmerized by something unseen. "Rook," Briar said, tapping him on his face. "Come back to me. Remember who you are."

With a start, Rook came to, sight snapping back into his eyes. He blinked and stood back on his feet. As if the sight of Briar filled him with strength, he turned to face Nyxia who was stumbling back up, clutching the back of her head. He raised his palms, balls of crackling flame forming in each before he hurled them at her. The cry he let out through gritted teeth was half fury and half pain.