The Matriarch's Daughter

Chapter Thirty-Two: That was Unexpected

Thepa's mind was a blur as she sprinted towards the horde of goblins. She knew that she was risking everything by charging headlong into battle one verses hunderds. She was terrified - terrified of what would happen to Rory, to the town, and to herself. But she couldn't bear the thought of losing Rory. While this Rory might not have been her Rory, it was still a Rory she wasn't going to lose, not after everything either one of them had been through.

Thepa's lungs began to burn. Desperation and fear quickly turned into anger, and everything around her disappeared. A single-minded purpose took over. The only thing she could see was Rory's face, covered in sweat and anguish. No longer would the taunts of her dreams hold her back. If this was what she was created for, she would willingly give her life for the sister she loved. Dropping her daggers, Thepa knew what she had to do.

Thepa ignited the fire inside her, pushing it out as far as she could. When the two collided, Thepa swiftly pulled Rory down and covered her with her own body. Despite the onslaught of steel and flesh, the radiant shield held, deflecting every blow, even protecting Rory below. Thepa was sure it wouldn't last long. She pushed herself off the ground and released her grip on Rory. The mounting weight of goblin bodies clawed at her rapidly diminishing protection, but it gave way enough for her sister to turn over.

Rory's face was contorted in pain, her breathing shallow and erratic. Somehow, Thepa pushed the weight of the goblins up another two inches, not sure how she was even lifting it as high as she was. It was a super-Saintian, but where it came from was anyone's guess. Too consumed in everything else that had happened to her, she hadn't even had a moment to process it.

Relief flooded Rory's face, and she shifted, finally looking up. Thepa continued to stare down into her green eyes as sweat or tears dripped onto Rory's face. Knowing this was going to be their last moment together and alive, Thepa made sure not to regret it.

"I love you, sister," Thepa whispered, her voice trembling. "Even if you don't remember, thank you for loving me."

Rory's brow furrowed as the last of Thepa's magic ebbed. Pricks of steel and claw pierced her defenses, joned by a low rumble vibrating through the ground. As Rory's green eyes fluttered shut, a weak smile flickered—then vanished as they reopened, now a deep, unearthly purple.

"Rory?"

The goblins scattered in a frenzied retreat, shoving one another as the weight on Thepa's back lifted. She collapsed beside Rory as the air all around them darkened.

Suddenly, Rory rose, floating effortlessly high into the air. Her once-tangled auburn hair transformed into sleek, shimmering purple locks, whipping furiously in the wind. The air crackled, pulsing in sync with a growing storm above, mirroring her mounting fury. Her eyes narrowed, her presence radiating vitriol. Every ounce of rage and power, pent up since Thepa found her a week ago, surged for release.

Then, a single word escaped Rory's lips. It was softly spoken, yet it cut through the air, reverberating in every ear as far as the eye could see. Every creature within range froze, the force of her voice anchoring them to the spot.

"No," Rory spoke, releasing the chaos.

Lightning erupted from her outstretched hand, jagged arcs lashing across the field. Thepa flinched, squeezing her eyes shut as she braced for impact, but none came. The magic roared past, its suffocating power prickling her skin with a thousand needles. Her hair stood on end, her horns tinged something feirce, yet the magic spared her. With a trembling breath, she dared to pry her eyes open. As a gasp tore through her throat, she almost wished she hadn't.

Not a single goblin remained standing. Their bodies lay scattered across the field, charred beyond recognition. Smoke rose from their lifeless forms. Their crude metal weapons had melted into pools of slag, useless remnants of their short-lived assault.