Althea

Fawns and Battles

Farida: special one
Origin: Syrian

The Malignant began to march into place, their bodies resembling a long, blackened hedge that separated Deidre and the Empress, as well as Achan's grave, from our little band. She lifted her hands and her chin and began chanting towards the sky. Around her fingertips, sparks flew and multicoloured lightning met them, like someone had forced a rainbow through an electric outlet in the sky. The Empress gasped and started convulsing. Her skin began to pale and crack as the lightning struck her. The current spread like an umbrella unfolding from the Sorceresses hands, enclosing her, Empress Philena and Achan's grave in a lightning cage.
"I have to get to the Empress! I have to talk to Deidre!" I cried, whipping around to face Solomon and Brynhilde again. Solomon's face set into its familiar determined look.
"Brynhilde, how long do you think you can hold off the Malignants while Althea and I get to the Empress?" She shrugged.
"I can give you a few minutes, tops." I nodded, my mouth set into a grim line.
"I think we can add to that." I looked to see Arethusa leading a host of not only dryads, but moth knights out of the woods opposite of Brynhilde's gang. She raised her hand and the company stopped. Beside her stood Cassius, looking winded but very proud of himself. Solomon rushed to his side, and stroked his ears.
"You quick, clever boy." He said, hugging him fiercely.
"Thank you, Arethusa." I said sincerely. She inclined her head to me.
"This involves my liege lord and my subjects. I could do nothing else. I've brought only a few hundred of my fastest. We can buy a few more moments if Nature favours us."
"I can make that work. If it doesn't... well, it will be better if you don't make it."
Brynhilde rolled her neck around producing a series of cracks.
"I have no intention of dying, or letting anyone else die either. You better be quick." She unstrapped an axe from her back and screamed. The witches and druids followed suit and rushed at the hedge, some wielding weapons, others various jars and bottles undoubtedly filled with all sorts of magic and potions. Arethusa barked a command and her army marched forward, meeting the Malignants head on.
Their meeting was quieter than I expected, there was the crunching of twigs and the thunk of metal on wood. The loudest noise remained the war cry of the witches and druids. Before long, the field was a bloodbath, dozens of Malignant and our warriors falling in near equal numbers.
"You still have your knife?" Solomon asked, searching my eyes. I nodded, unsheathing it.
He grabbed my free hand and rushed toward the fray. We dodged Malignants and druids alike, lending a hand or a blade wherever we could. Slowly we made our way towards the lightning cage where Deidre had trapped the Empress and herself. Solomon shoved a Malignant aside, and before it could get it's bearing, stabbed it straight through the shoulder.
"Go, I've got your back! The Sorceress is there, get the Empress! Hurry!" Solomon yelled, pushing me ahead before whirling to slice another Malignant. I ducked around a trio of dryads and came face to face with the crackling enclosure. Instinctively I reached out and was surprised to find that the lightning didn't hurt me. It barely even tickled. Confidently, I stepped through. I rushed to the Empress's side, kneeling by her head which was bowed so low her forehead scraped the dirt.
"Althea, please." Philena said, a tear rolling down her cracked face. "She's like my sister." I didn't respond, instead I steeled myself. Deirdre turned, her eyes crackled with the same intense energy as the cage.
"Do you wish to die, little girl? By challenging me you have sealed your doom." I shook my head. I knew what I had to do. The warmth in the pit of my stomach rushed into my arms, making them glow like sunlight through water.
"I can't let you do that Deidre." I grabbed her cheeks, and the light from my hands lit up her face.
I saw the visions as she did: 7 year old Philena hiding in the garden, waiting for Deirdre to find her desperately hiding giggles. A younger Achan striking her across the face, and Arethusa tending to her hurts with soothing words and sweet sap. Her original coven healing a little fawn while she stroked the mother, whispering words of reassurance. Farida, sitting alone in her shared room, cuddling a portrait of her parents, still hoping they'd return. Finally, an image of the world as Achan dreamed it; A desolate, barren wasteland. People and butterflies alike shuffling around mindlessly. Deirdre utterly alone, sobbing at the neglected graves of those she once considered friends.
Suddenly, she grabbed my hands. She clutched them like a drowning man clings to a scrap of wood.
"I didn't know. I-I have to stop this." She sobbed. I rested my forehead on hers, and looked her in the eyes.
"You can stop this. Save Philena, save the world, save yourself."
"Oh, I hardly think she'll be able to do much saving."
Behind Deirdre, the same skeleton from my vision rose from the dirt, morphing through it as easily as one exits a bath. Strands of light attached to his skeleton and when the light faded, stuck as chunks of flesh, making him look as though he was half rotted.
"You have to end the spell Deirdre! Philena doesn't have much time." She nodded and began chanting again. The lightning didn't react, it only seemed to grow stronger. "Nothing is happening, it won't stop!" She cried, desperately waving her hands.
Achan began to laugh; I could see the beginnings of his lungs quiver as he inhaled and exhaled.
"She can't stop me. She is weak, spineless, unloveable. She was nothing, merely a means to an end. She was so willing to love me, it was really quite pathetic. But none the less, I appreciate all of your help, my love." Achan sneered.
"Don't listen to him Deirdre! Philena loved you, and she still does! Your coven is waiting still too." Deirdre's face twisted into a mask of rage. She screamed and blasted Achan with a fireball. He simply brushed it aside, his half formed lips forming a grotesque grin.
"A valiant effort. But it's too late. I no longer need your help, I can perform my own magic again. My sister, your dearest friend, is dying as I rise. Nobody can stop me!"
All of the sudden the lightning fizzled out with a pop, and the smell of ozone filled the air. The battle ceased around us, and the crowd parted to reveal the High Priestess followed closely by a very familiar woman. She smiled warmly at me, and my heart sped up.
"Mom?"