Iorrjaer

Chapter 41

Granna thrashed around, breaking up the stairs until she got herself figured out, took flight, further destroying and separating the stairs from their base. Bleeding profusely from her severed pincer, she lost control of her flight and attempted to charge Häsmæl once again but listed and crashed to the ground. She tore up the ground as she tumbled towards Barsabel. Who tucked back, grabbed Yophiel's shoulders under her arms and dove out of the way.

Granna's body smashed into where they had been. Barsabel sighed with relief and awe. She was amazed that she had had the reflexes to gauge and then react to Granna's erratic movements. It was almost like her replenished ki had given her a bonus of heightened perception and the speed to process and react in a second's notice. Yophiel, on the other hand, was catatonic again.

Granna lifted herself, laboriously and much of her body was broken. One of the carapace pieces from her back had broken off and the underlying wing was shredded. Many of her legs were broken or snapped off. She struggled to find her balance on the legs that remained and that could support her weight. Her missing mandible continued to bleed and much of her head's carapace was cracked and compromised.

Häsmæl, watching Granna's struggle, finished his internal conversation with Jörcnir and a strange new energy released from him and spread out through the battleground. Axe in hand and the connection between his mark and the axe reestablished, an incredibly powerful aura burst from him.

The only one who was unphased and took it as the sign that he had been waiting for was Sorâth. A smile formed on his face when he noticed what had happened. He had felt a resurgence come to him and where the others had been unaware of the origin, he knew that his boon was from Malka. Although, with everything else that happened within the same timeframe, he had focused on watching Häsmæl be reunited with Thrügg.

For him, the scene had been one of narrow margins. Granna, Bethar, Kârael and Häsmæl were in such proximity to each other that it was almost impossible to distinguish that they were not directly on top of each other. Once Bethar touched Häsmæl's arm, and the magic released, everything else happened in a blink of an eye. He was glad for his elven heritage and his ability to process action at a much faster rate. For him, everything that happened after Bethar transferred the magic, happened in what would have been slow motion for others but for him, it was normal speed.

Häsmæl immediately had his axe back in hand and, without delay or hesitation, brought into contact with Granna. She was mere millimetres away from crashing into Kârael when Häsmæl's interference allowed Bethar and Kârael to escape unharmed but not safely slowed.

Granna's reactive destruction of the staircase seemed deliberate from his vantage point. A desperate measure taken in the face of the impending fact that now that Häsmæl had regained Thrügg, her battle was lost.

He glanced over to his mirrored copies and was satisfied that the soldiers were still distracted. He then looked over to the ziggurat and saw that the moon was nearly at the zenith but also seemed suspended as if everything that had been happening had stalled its progress. He had the thought that it was time for him to advance and get himself and whomever else inside and to Victor.

"You Sorâth?" An unfamiliar voice asked him.

He paused and found Chester standing a bit of a ways away from him. The dwarf looked fatigued but stout and sturdy.

"Aye."

"Good. I've got yer swords."

Sorâth wasted no time to retrieve his blades from the dwarf and he looked immediately better. Sorâth felt his own surge of renewed energy. His blades carried their own special significance and even though he was whole without them, their return brought him some missing power. He nodded his thanks to Chester, who now had Kârael's bow and arrows and Yophiel's sword.