Fallen One (Book three of Alfireán age)

- There At Last -

Lillian leaned down and pushed her delicate, equine nose against the dead beast, sniffing at it as the fading light's shifting hues shined through her invisibility spell.

The bodies were still warm, and the strange armored one bore no physical wounds, which meant its killer had to be Harold.

She wasn't that far behind.

However, the sun was disappearing behind the horizon, and full darkness would soon be upon them. Lillian knew from one night's experience that neither she nor Harold, much less the little boy he had gone to retrieve, could survive the predators that would soon be upon them.

Pawing the ground, she glanced at the ebbing beams of light as they filtered through the trees. With Glandledale so close, they shouldn't have to worry about the oncoming night, but Lillian already knew the city wouldn't be there. Something horrible and indescribable had taken place, and every trace of the city's residual frequencies was gone. She wasn't sure how, but they were. Which meant there would be no haven for them tonight.

Her white coat rippled in the chilling air, and Lillian once again started trotting down the road. Their only chance at survival was for her to find him as soon as possible and for them to join forces.

That meant she would have to show him her true form.

Lillian's heart jumped in her chest as she wondered how he would react at seeing it again. Would he delight over her and revel in her beauty like he had before Teekal wiped his memory? Or would her great aunt's original assessment prove right: that, without her mental influence, he would declare her a genetic abomination.

The thought caught in her long slender neck as the dying sun reflected off of her single, crystal horn.

***

Drake raced to the fallen champion's side. "Are you all right?" he asked, genuine worry in his tone. Drakovian had suspected something was off with the young woman all day but had chalked it up to her having a simple migraine headache. Perhaps, though, it was worse than he'd supposed.

"I just hit the ground at close to sixty miles per hour. What do you think?" Zaphaniea exploded. "No, I'm not all right!"

Olivia reached the champion's side, and crouching down beside her, her eyes began to glow. A brisk wind whipped at the warrior's silken blouse, while in the distance the howl of an unknown creature echoed in the valley.

Night was rapidly descending upon them.

After a moment, Alf asked, "How is she?"

Olivia stood up and dusted off her garments. "She's fine," the healer declared. "Just a couple of scrapes and bruises."

"Fine? I have an extra hole in my head!" Zaphaniea declared, pointing at the small scrape on her forehead.

Olivia rolled her eyes at the dramatic champion, raised her hand, and in the blink of an eye, a holy beam flashed into existence and struck the grand champion right above the brow.

Zaphaniea's eyes grew to the size of saucers as she desperately scrambled to her feet, trying to escape the unprovoked attack. "What in the world do you think you're doing?" she squealed.

"Healing you," Olivia simply answered with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Oh," the champion said, touching her hand to her forehead where the scrape had been moments ago.

Drake looked off towards the horizon where the sun had disappeared behind the mountains. "I guess you can't continue?"

"Of course not," the champion snapped.