Subtlest Game: Book One - March of the Pawns

Chapter 13

11986712

Akui threw her head back sharply, feeling an arrow slice under her chin. She turned her momentum into a spin, cerulean flames bursting from her palm, and the skeleton fell back in a pile of smouldering bones.
"They're falling back!" she yelled to Margal, her second in command. The burly blazekin ducked under a sweeping golden sword, and buried his bladed quarterstaff into a pigman's stomach. "Keep them together!" he roared, pointing a flaming finger towards the enemy's northern flank, which was trying to break away from their comrades to encircle a group of fire mages.

Akui cursed under her breath. Like always, she'd let her personal victories blind her, and she'd forgotten her duty – win the battle, not a duel against a skeleton. She broke into a run, reaching into her soul and shaking loose the energies that powered it. With an almost animalistic cry, she leapt, twirled, and brought her fist down on the netherrack. Her hand almost burned with power as turquoise fire burst into furious life and raced across the ground. Skeletons, pigmen and dozens more creatures she didn't care to examine fell under the eight foot high barrage, skin or bones blackened and charred as the soul fire sucked the life from their bodies.

"Good one." grunted Margal, walking up beside her. Akui inhaled deeply, letting the flames sink and die as she recalled the power into herself. What remained of the Empire's forces were either retreating or falling under a barrage of arrows and fireballs, their outpost falling around them in flaming ruins.

"Look around, see if there are any prisoners." Akui ordered. Margal nodded, and Akui flashed him a smile, cocking her hips at him before turning away. She'd help out a bit, then find a place to rest and let her soul settle, maybe see if one of the soldiers wouldn't be willing to–
She stopped, neck prickling. She sensed a flare of aggression in the air behind her, like a red hot flame from the soul, and threw herself to the ground. Something rushed overhead, slicing the space where her head had been. She rolled sideways, onto her back, bringing her legs up and flipping onto her feet before blasting soul fire into the air. She hit something – she felt its soul rip from its body – and a heavy object fell to the ground with a whump. Cursing, she inhaled, the fire dissolving, and looked at the body of her attacker.
It was a wither skeleton, except its bones were coated in a hard greyish-black exoskeleton, granting enough bulk that it almost had the shape of a living creature. It wore light fabric armour, black with green trim, and a pair of ash black wings, feathered and oddly elegant, half covered its body, as though it had tried to shield itself.
"Wither angel..." Akui muttered under her breath. The wither angels were ancient, old as the Nether itself, and prized and feared above all other soldiers. A small squadron could decimate an army, given the element of surprise. "On guard!" she yelled, firing an explosive fireball in the air like a flare. The (freedom fighters?) forces were tired, drooping in their armour, but to her relief they heeded her, standing tall, forming into ranks and holding their assorted weapons ready.

Akui knelt down, and listened. She rarely had the skill or the patience, but now she opened her inner ear, and waited. She could feel the anticipation of the soldiers, the frustration of some, and their tiredness. And just a little further off...
"Found you." she muttered. "To the west!" she raised her voice. The army turned in the indicated direction, eyes bright and harsh.

They came from the forest. Akui wondered how long they'd been waiting there, watching until their foes fell docile. Perhaps a dozen wither angels, wings flapping in perfect harmony, soared up from the crimson trees, rising up on the heat of the lava lake. For a moment, they hung there, a dozen pairs of emerald eyes fixed on the rebels. Then, with a cry that pierced Akui's burning soul, they dived.

"Archers! Mages!" Akui barely had time to cry before the airborne attack was on them. She threw her hands down, propelling herself into the air on a focused jet, straight into the chest of a wither angel. It tumbled, wings thrown out of rhythm by the attack. Akui clung onto the hard, slippery surface of its chest, face set grimly. Her hands suffused with a blueish-white light, and her target spasmed, twitched, then fell still as she burnt into its chest and through its spine.
She didn't wait for it to land, flying off with another jet of fire. She sustained this one, adding to it with a powerful blast from her feet. Blue hair whipped round her face as she dodged past wither angels, blasting them aside when necessary as she searched. There had to be some kind of leader. There was no way even these creatures could coordinate so perfectly without a focal point.