Fable - Ask The Toll

[Zinnia]

Smoldering golden eyes with pupils like razors met Alistair's nervous glances and she grinned wildly at him, a row of ivory daggers glinting back in the rising moon's light. A row of scales like burnished brass had blossomed from what was once her freckles, the same color as those that lined her transfigured forelimbs, tail, and wings. Her gaze then shifted to Kristen, then her cousin.

Zinnia hadn't the wherewithal to fully understand what was happening at the moment, having given herself to her transformation. What she did still have were her instincts, and as of yet they told her to bide her time. Zinnia crouched, perched atop the mountain of armor and dead flesh, and watched carefully. She waited, almost eagerly, for when instinct might tell her to pounce.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Redoran seemed heedless of the sight of Zinnia. Heedless, even in that moment, of his own cousin Kristen. For Alistair's question sparked in him an even greater excitement.

"I have been here all the while! Watching! Watching as the four of you magnificently slew my soldiers, my Legion! Such death! Such...power! Harnessing it...is exactly what we needed!"

Kristen was aghast, and a kind of terror the like of which she had never known clutched at her heart. What was he saying? What was cousin Redoran saying?? No, this couldn't be him. This had to be some sort of imposter, some sort of trick, some magical deception, something, please, gods, please, no—

"PLEASE!" Kristen shouted, panting from exertions both physical and emotional. "Redoran, please...! What have you...what have you done...?"

"You know more intimately than I do, Kristen!" Redoran called back, still with an intense and eager bent for persuasion. "You were there! In Vel Numera! Look at what those FILTHY Forsaken had the boldness, the audacity, to do! House Pirian appears weak, Kristen! WEAK! We need a true leader. A leader with proven ability. We need..."

Redoran's eyes crackled with that sinister magic again.

"...Velkath Pirian!"

The infamous, divisive, and long dead Pirian who had risen to prominence during some of the bloodiest years of the old oligarchy of the nobility.

"I want him dead.

Who does he think he is? What does he think he is? That damned Niasin Urahil and his despicable, horse-faced little harpy of a wife. How dare they do this to me. How dare they cross me. After everything I did for his father, after everything I did for that... that family.

The very thought disgusts me.

I brought them opportunity, I gave them a chance. All they needed to do was cast their vote for the war. All they needed to do was support this one measure in the Council Chambers but he just couldn't do it. The stupid bastard doomed us.

Now those fucking knife-ears are going to run wild in Falwood again. We won't be able to stop them. In a year's time they'll be at our doorstep, and then... then it'll be the end of this city.

All of our power, all of our might will just ebb away as those foul little creatures rush towards us. It disgusts me to think they still let them in the city, disgusts me to think that I must receive them in the Council Chamber.

I must do something about this. I have to make sure they never come here."
— Velkath Pirian, recent journal entry

Alistair Krixus Zinnia

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair's eyes quickly shot to Zinnia and then Kristen. He motioned for her to back up, hoping she got the message, he continued to talk with Redoran. Zinnia would act on her own time, so there was no need to tell her anything.

"Thanks for the compliments, but I think you might be confused Redoran. Velkath died, although I'm sure he appreciates your...adoration."

To be honest, Alistair needed a moment to catch his breath. His magical reserves were probably lesser than the others, he made up for that by just being good with his control, but he had just fought an army so it could not be helped.

For now, if they had to fight, which was looking very likely, he would have to use a good old-fashioned sword. His next one or two spells would likely leave him spent.

A slight movement in his left hand revealed another dagger in his left hand, but he made no move with it, yet.

Kristen Pirian Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

The words and names being exchanged meant little to Zinnia, but Redoran seemed to be upsetting Kristen and unnerving Alistair. He was causing stress to Zinnia's friends. That didn't sit well with her. She gnashed her teeth and the thick tail behind her swished around in annoyance.

Not yet...

There was no certainty how this would play out yet, but until it all became clear, Zinnia continued to simmer at a near-boil.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"YES!" Redoran shouted in response to Alistair with a now completely unrestrained enthusiasm. "Velkath is dead. BUT...he may yet live...AGAIN!"

A crackle of that teal-colored magic, like a bolt of baleful lightning, shot up from the ground near his feet, now no longer subtle. Another such crackle. Redoran's shoulders shivered. His arms twitched. The impression could be made that whatever magic he held was unsteady, that his body was a container filled to the near edge of bursting.

"This power...that I have been gifted! It will be House Pirian's salvation! We will not be trampled underfoot! Another Vel Numera will not happen! No! Not if Velkath Pirian is returned from the dead to lead us! Not if..."

Redoran's bulging eyes crossed over Kristen, Alistair, Zinnia, and Lothar. His grin spread with a throbbing glee.

"...he has loyal, POWERFUL champions to serve him!" And with particular focus upon Kristen he said, "I was wrong about you, Kristen. I tried to dissuade you away from all this! I thought you to be weak; I thought you needed protection, not that you were a protector; I thought you to be Neil's Darling Daughter and nothing more. But I was wrong! You proved me wrong! And how gloriously you have done so!"

Redoran swept his hand invitingly over the span of the four Dreadlords and Initiates.

"JOIN ME!" he said to Kristen.

"NO!" Kristen called back, aghast and betrayed and with a voice tortured by sorrow.

Seemingly heedless, he continued without interruption.

"JOIN ME!" he said to Alistair, blind to his aversion and the dagger he held.

"JOIN ME!" he said to Lothar, blind to the secret of his arm and his intent.

"JOIN ME!" he said to Zinnia, blind to her draconic transformation.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair would have sighed if not for the serious tension in the area. This man was clearly crazy, and Alistair was sure some other normal person would have voiced the same opinion. However, he wasn't exactly in good company right now. Kristen was dealing with the betrayal of a family member. Zinnia had a look in her eyes that told Al he should not be counting on her for deep and coherent thoughts.

But they did not need that for what was about to happen. It was time to fight. The danger of allowing Redoran's magic to continue and grow more unstable was too great.

No longer wasting time, Alistair quickly threw one of the daggers at Redoran, while swiftly following behind brandishing his other blade.

He was not sure about Kristen's mental state and whether she could bring herself to harm her own family, he knew how much she cared for them. That might only leave him and Zinnia.

"Zinnia, now!"

Kristen Pirian Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

Right on cue, the very moment Alistair made his intentions verbal, Zinnia dove forward. A guttural, unearthly shriek pierced the air, leathery wings spreading wide and beating hard to drive Zinnia forward. She surged with a speed well beyond what a human's ordinary legs could carry, ivory-tipped claws forward and grasping at the air in front of her, seeking Redoran's soft flesh to bury themselves in.

She charged recklessly, heedless of Redoran's magic or any tricks he might have had up his noble sleeves. Zinnia had been patient long enough. She'd kept herself in check for far too long. No more. There would be no joining, only ruin. Redoran's ruin.

Spoiler

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Zinnia's claws did indeed bury themselves into Redoran's soft flesh. His body rocked slightly from the force of the impact, and for a moment his mania seemed interrupted, the face of the calmer, more mild-mannered Redoran from Selmack coming back, as if born from the sheer disbelief that Zinnia—that Alistair and Kristen and Lothar too for that matter—would have cause not to ally themselves with him.

But then that intense grin returned.

He pushed himself off from Zinnia's claws, his own flesh tearing, bones cracking, in the effort. With the expenditure of a soul did the Dark Magic with which Redoran had been invested heal his wounds, this with low and pulsing flashes of teal energy. Yes, the Sorceress's gifts were supreme! She had given to him the means to enact what he desired!

"Very well!" cried Redoran, rising from the ground in levitation, that teal energy crackling about him furiously now. "Then I will do what I must for the good of House Pirian! I will take this power to Velkath's grave! So delivered, he will walk Arethil...AGAIN!"

And as the fight began, Kristen found herself in a terrible, terrible place.

A place that she had some frightful familiarity.

For her exhaustion was not the only thing which kept her down on her knees. Fear, though one far different in kind from that which had frozen her back in Vel Acan, made known its paralyzing frigidity once more. Each breath she took was a mighty battle in and of itself, and acidic torment pumped out from her chest with each embattled heartbeat.

"Come on..." she said in a quivering whisper to herself.

What great horror spawned from the acts of Redoran, who bore the name of Pirian, should not matter now, for the abominable deeds were done, the lives lost, the souls taken, the true horror yet to come should the four of them fail here. What mattered most was Lothar. What mattered most was Zinnia. What mattered most was Alistair. They were fighting. They faced bravely the danger of their duty. And Kristen had to do the same, she had to, she had to do the same, she must, must, must.

"...come on!"

Because it had to be her. She was the only one who could make this truly right. For she, too, bore the name of Pirian, and such was now her grim duty to see Redoran punished in the manner appropriate to the renewal of her House's dignity.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

The crazy ones always got the unfair powers. Zinnia shredded Redoran up and he was back to normal in seconds, and even without many of his magical wards activated, Alistair could sense the nasty nature of whatever magic the man was using.

He continued charging forward, but he spotted Kristen out of the corner of his eyes. They would need her in this fight, but he knew she was probably doing some mental gymnastics with this being her family...For now, he would leave that for her to deal with on her own. He would intervene if absolutely necessary.

Redoran was floating into the sky and that just would not work. Alistair pressed his hand to the ground and cast another spell. It felt like he was trying to pull water from a cup that had mere drops left in the bottom, but it was enough. Earthen chains shot forward from beneath the ground to wrap around Redoran.

The chains initially succeeded in pulling the man down, but that only lasted for a second as Redoran's strength easily overwhelmed the chains and they crumbled to dust. Redoran glanced to him put was now looking at him like some bug beneath his foot. That infuriated Alistair more, but...

He had forced the man closer to Zinnia.

Kristen Pirian Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

There was a moment of confusion, first as Zinnia shredded Redoran's flesh (surely it couldn't be so easy), and then as the wounds she'd left knitted themselves back to health. It was never that easy.

Zinnia's wild gaze followed upwards as the sorcerer channeled his malign magics, but Redoran's ascent was quickly cut short. Alistair worked his magic, and Redoran quickly retorted by breaking the spell...but Alistair was still fighting, and so too would Zinnia.

The draconic girl snarled and darted forward once more, wings flapping to give her the last bit of height she needed to reach Redoran. She leapt upward and grabbed hold of the man's leg, around his shin. Zinnia felt the man's tibia begin to crunch and fracture beneath the raw strength of her grip, but Redoran simply laughed without so much as a wince. She'd fix that.

Zinnia slung the man towards the ground, which Redoran skidded across harmlessly, feet first. The broken bone had already patched itself together by the time Zinnia followed up, slamming claws first into the dark mage. Zinnia bore her fanged teeth at him, fury and hatred burning in her eyes and breath, but Redoran simply grinned back at her.

What came next was a blur. Zinnia remembered Redoran's eyes glowing brightly with his foul magic, then hearing a thunderous *BOOM* before suddenly being surrounded by dust, rubble, and pain.

In an instant, Redoran had unleashed a burst of his magic that sent Zinnia hurtling through the air, then ragdolling across the ground, and finally crashing into the side of a burned out house.

Zinnia's body shook as she picked herself up from the rubble, blood trickling down her face and over her left eye, winced shut. If she'd had the mind to do so, she'd have been thankful for the increased durability her current form allotted her. Even empowered as she was by her transformation, the Pirian mage was just so much more overwhelming in his might.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen, numb with all the horrors assailing her, watched Zinnia as she with great clamor crashed into the burned out house. What, then? Was this the reward of Kristen's cultivated resolve, of Zinnia's faith in her as a sister-in-arms? To what end was the purpose of her journey, of every step taken to escape the dreadful shadow of Vel Acan, if she wilted here and allowed not merely herself but her compatriots as well to be savaged by a traitorous, twisted image of a Pirian?

At last a swell of courage, the perfect remedy to her frightful woe, bade her to rise.

"I must..."

A foot solidly placed on the ground.

"...honor my House..."

A hand upon her knee.

"...and do my duty!"

And there in a swift motion did Kristen come to stand tall, her bloody sword gripped in her left hand, her eyes set now on Redoran. Her crippling exhaustion did not matter. Her ties of blood and kinship did not matter. The grave crimes committed by her elder cousin had their prescribed sentence, and Kristen, with a reforged steel in her heart, intended to see it duly enacted.

She raised her sword. Aimed its tip at Redoran. Such an act, looking down the length of her sword as an archer would the length of a drawn arrow, would help her in her embattled state to figure the proper placement of her conjuration. She felt within her that she'd only strength enough for a few more spells, and anything beyond that would call forth deadly hazard to threaten her.

An Impaler burst from the ground before Redoran.

And with both hands, each enwreathed in that crackling teal energy, did he stop the Impaler from skewering him, the Impaler's sharp tip—and the rest of its emergence as a whole—brought to a rough and sudden halt. A gaudy display of power, and one that came at a considerable cost. Yet Redoran, in addition to lacking heavily in the experience of using magic, was in no state to be conservative. (If but he could be made to burn his arcane reserves in so careless a manner as this, then the day would be won!)

"Think of what we could do together!" Redoran called out to the Dreadlords against him. "Think of how much the Republic will benefit from our combined strength!"

Alistair Krixus Zinnia

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair moved out of the way just in time to avoid Zinnia's flying body. He then turned and looked back at Redoran with a raised eyebrow. The man had swatted Zinnia out of the air with ease, if he got ahold of Alistair then he would be in real trouble.

Al would need to be careful here as he slowly circled Redoran who had now turned his sights onto him. Even he would admit that this wasn't looking great. He probably looked like shit, while Redoran was overflowing with magical energy.

"This is a little unfair...Do you want me to give you a handicap?"

He expected a magical blast sent his way but instead was greeted with several impalers rising up to greet the insane. Thank the gods, Kristen had finally gotten into the fight.

Fighting was about timing and now was the time to do some heavy betting. Alistair charged with his rapier, aiming to get in close while he launched several arcane bolts at Redoran, hoping to catch him while he was focused on Kristen.

"In my experience, it's never good for the city led by the madman."

He ducked some sort of arcane slash that burnt the air as it passed through just above his head. Alistair was surprised to find an opening and drove his blade in, but it was stopped at Redoran's skin like his body was made of some sort of metal. Then, the sword started to dissolve into ash before him, and Alistair was forced to let go of the blade before the decay reached the hilt.

Kristen Pirian Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

The ruins of the now collapsed building burst apart, Zinnia having recovered from the previous blow, injured as she was. Her eyes first honed on Redoran once more, furthest away from Zinnia. Even in her primal state she recognized the object that had ascended from the ground to strike him: Kristen's Impaler. She'd have to have been truly lost to miss it, given that scores of men now lined the things all around.

Those razors in Zinnia's eyes turned to see Kristen, sword in hand and pointed defiantly at her cousin. Heat brimmed all around Zinnia as her lips curled into a fanged grin. Kristen had found her strength, and in that strength Zinnia gripped her own.

The draconic girl pulled herself up from the debris and began another mad dash towards Redoran, letting another deafening shriek pierce the night. The sorcerer had raised a hand towards Alistair, perhaps to answer the rune-mage's bolts with a volley of his own, but instead decided to turn that hail of magic on Zinnia as he saw her approaching.

Zinnia's senses and reflexes were on overdrive. One burning bolt came rocketing her way and she ducked left to avoid it, still barreling towards Redoran. Two more, and Zinnia rolled right and then jumped to dodge them, the third bolt striking the ground just beneath her feet. The next came as a horizontal crescent, seeking to cut Zinnia in half; she slid beneath it and kept coming, undeterred.

A look of frustration appeared on Redoran's face; Zinnia was too quick to hit on her approach...but Alistair was right next to him, and stationary. The mage raised both palms towards Alistair. If he couldn't convince the trio of young Dreadlords to join him, narrowing their numbers would see him through. Arcane might pooled in glowing spheres in his palms, seeking to blast Alistair apart.

Zinnia's wings gave several powerful beats, still too small to allow her full flight but big enough to give her sprint a boost...or in this case to gain one mighty leap. In the nick of time, Zinnia tackled Alistair out of the way, knowing full well that in his current state hitting Redoran would do almost nothing.

For his part, Alistair would feel the rush of being swept away, hear Redoran's blast behind him, then feel the unbearable heat rolling off of Zinnia's body as she deposited him a few yards from his previous position.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen stumbled forward, following after Alistair's lead. In her exhaustion grace was gone and sluggishness ruled the day. What steps she took were earned, each and all, and this hardly bode well for when she would come within sword range. Had Redoran been vested with skill to match the raw power he now wielded, their combined fates would have all been sealed.

On her approach, Kristen thought less on swordplay and more on her Curses. What manner of Curse would be best, and how to most effectively shape it, for she would only have one true chance at it. Her thoughts on the gap between Redoran's skill and power helped tremendously (Gods! How did Redoran even come into the possession of magic? Impossible, that he would have hidden it all the years of his life, only just now erupting onto the Anirian scene with it!).

The flow of the fight facilitated the opportunity for Kristen to speak a Curse upon Redoran.

Alistair had been in close. Redoran, dispensing with the hope of recruiting him for his twisted cause, sought to obliterate him, his palms engulfed in perilous amounts of building magical energy. Zinnia dived in with the help of her (dragon?) wings and swept Alistair away to safety. In the second which followed, right before Redoran could release his devastating spell, Kristen had her chance.

"Every arcane feat comes at the expense of three!" she called, the baleful energy of her Curse leaking from her porcelain palm and descending upon Redoran.

Now at tremendous expenditure of souls and thus power, Redoran unleashed his Blast. It sailed past Kristen, who stood just obliquely from its path, her ponytail waving furiously in the disturbed wake of wind which followed. Behind them all and from the town of Bluecott did the Blast strike. Yet more devastation.

But Redoran gasped, feeling the weight of mounting arcane fatigue. He looked to Kristen with wild eyes. "What was that? You! My own blood! My own kin! I work for the good of House Pirian and this is my reward!?"

"You disgrace all—!"

A quick lash of teal energy, like lightning from the ground, struck Kristen in the face. She toppled over, falling to the ground, the long burn from her jaw over the bridge of her nose and to her hairline covered as her face met with the dirt.

Alistair Krixus Zinnia

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair knew that he was likely the least sturdy of him and his companions, but it was a calculated risk. The closer he stayed to Redoran, the more he could narrow the man's field of view and keep the focus on him. However, Al was exhausted, maybe he had overcalculated his current capabilities. He should have been fast enough. He should have seen the attack coming, instead a great weight slammed into his chest. Well, that was it, he was likely dying.

Wait no, he saw wings. It turned out that the true death blow had been narrowly avoided thanks to Zinnia's quick thinking. She was hot, not in an aesthetic sort of way, but more like his closer was literally burning at his proximity to her.

He cursed under his breath as she deposited him on the ground where he rolled a little bit, not having the energy to land gracefully. The quick series of impacts knocked the energy right out of him. He was so tired, and everything was hurting. He struggled to get to his feet, but only made it to his knees.

Just in time to watch Kristen get sent to the ground from one of Redoran's attacks. That lit enough of a fire inside of Alistair to push him to his feet. He had nothing left to give. No, that was a lie he kept telling himself so it would be easier to lie down. He always had something left when he needed it.

"Kristen!-"

Alistair ignored the lactic acid build-up in his legs as he forced himself to charge across the battlefield towards Redoran. No magical defenses or attacks to prepare, it was just him.

Kristen Pirian Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

Zinnia cried out in sync with Alistair, the first word she'd spoken since her transformation:
"KRISTEN!"

Every fiber of Zinnia's being bristled with anger. It was good that Alistair had moved away from her. The very ground in a ring around Zinnia began to burn, small, dry weeds combusting on the spot. Zinnia's arcane reserves were thoroughly tapped, her battery drained of all elemental power. What came now was from her own physiology.

She balled her fists and screamed in rage and contempt at Redoran, that he would be so foul as to strike down his own family, Zinnia's family. Not family by something so thin as blood, but by something as thick as covenant. In that scream manifested flame. Roiling, viscous flame, seeking to engulf Redoran in Zinnia's hate, and providing cover for Alistair's approach.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Zinnia's shout reached Redoran first.

The elder Pirian, still burdened with Kristen's Curse, reeled as the flames born of Zinnia's voice washed over him. His clothes were now thoroughly in tatters, all of that finery reduced to something even a beggar would pity. Teal energy sparked all around his flesh, using, in grim effect, the stored suffering of others, that capture of their souls, to power his dark recovery.

But he felt the crushing weight now of mounting arcane fatigue as his bank of souls was being drained three times faster than before. He said aloud, deluded, "It's no problem. I can always spend more! I'll still have enough! I WILL!"

This was the opening provided by Zinnia for Alistair's rapid approach.

Kristen, meanwhile, with arms now beleaguered by more than just exhaustion, placed her palms upon the earth and slowly pushed herself up and onto her knees. She could feel the burn on her face, but she as yet had no precise idea of how bad it was—only that her nostrils were filled with the pungent scent of burnt flesh, and that in her right eye she could see but a tiny glimpse of that blackened trail running up her nose. More pressingly than this, however, was the keen intuitive knowledge that she had one spell left. Anything beyond that was beyond confidence, dangerous in that she wouldn't be able to pay the price of her magic, tempting violation of the First Law of Magic. She would have to choose wisely, and even then, it might not be enough.

Regardless, Kristen gripped her sword.

And for the second time rose to her feet, facing Redoran right as Alistair came within range of him.

Alistair Krixus Zinnia

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair probably had one more spell left in him. Well, calling it a spell might even be a stretch, his magical reserves were so low at the moment but he needed to try something.

He remembered when he first entered the Academy, and they told him his magical reserves were below average. His first proctor had described it as being in a boat race, and while everyone else had sea-worthy vessels, Alistair had been given a raft, which was why he had been trained in Rune magic. Every spell and rune had to be calculated to use as little energy as possible. The key word was efficiency.

The only problem was efficiency got really difficult when you got tired, and beaten up, and probably had a few broken bones. For example, charging at a madman overflowing with magical energy while Al was close to passing out would likely not be called efficient. But sometimes, the only choices to make were the inefficient choices. Zinnia had given him the cover he needed to get closer, but Alistair had made on miscalculation. Without his magic supporting him, he wasn't fast enough.

Redoran's eyes darted to him just in time to reach out and grab Alistair by the throat. The man lifted Al off the ground with a quick smile.

"I guess I'll kill you first."

Man, so many good one-liners raced through Alistair's brain but he was honestly just too tired to say anything. That was annoying, but he had a job to do. It was always about the small details when it came to efficiency. Like for example, the runesaber hilt that Alistair was currently hanging onto in his right hand. Alistair used the last of his energy to activate the runesaber. The arcane blade easily cut through Redoran's skin, unlike the previous normal weapons. Almost as soon as the blade had appeared and punctured the man, it was gone. The last of Al's energy was spent.

The sudden wound forced Redoran to drop Alistair, which would have been fine for Alistair if it wasn't swiftly followed by the man kicking him with surprising power and sending him flying several feet away with a sickening thud.

Zinnia Kristen Pirian

 

[Zinnia]

Kristen was up but significantly worse for wear, and Alistair was now down. He had drawn blood on Redoran though, judging by the pained cry and the impatient blow he'd dealt to the rune-mage. Every bone in Zinnia's body ached, but she couldn't let up now. The sorcerer's wounds were closing more slowly, his arcane blasts coming with less intensity. Zinnia's more intelligent mind struggled to work in concert with her primal state. Maybe...just maybe...

Again Zinnia charged. It was time to hedge her bets. This time she utilized the distraction that Alistair had created. She crashed into Redoran's back, knee first, as the man still clutched the hole that Alistair had rent in his flesh. There was a sharp crack as the scale-covered knee plate slammed into Redoran's spine and the mage shouted, either in pain or surprise.

Redoran tried to wheel about, swinging a fist backwards towards Zinnia, but the initiate caught his wrist and twisted his arm, driving her foot hard into the crook of Redoran's leg to get him to buckle. The mage swung wildly, more baleful energy coursing through his other fist, but Zinnia caught this with her free hand as well.

Finally, Zinnia flapped her wings to propel herself backward and, in doing so, gave herself just enough distance to slam both her feet into the small of Redoran's back. No sooner had she done so than Zinnia began pulling back as hard on Redoran's wrists as she could, yanking his arms tightly behind him.

"You...impudent little FLY!" Redoran called out. His eyes shone with fury, that sickening teal magic blazing from within. A terrible jet of energy shot out from Redoran's back, engulfing Zinnia wholly, expending yet more of the sorcerer's dark magic.

Zinnia screamed. Her whole body, skin and scales alike, burned and shrieked in agony. It was like no pain she had ever experienced, and her consciousness threatened to slip into blackness from the shock. In that waning light she had just a few moments of lucidity. In the next few seconds she would faint.

"KRISTEN! DO IT!"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Seeing Alistair thrown about by Redoran's unnatural strength bid her to move faster.

Seeing Zinnia weathering the terrible storm of Redoran's flood of dark magic bid her to move even faster.

KRISTEN! DO IT!

In the moment just before, when she came close enough to engage in combat, her Dreadlord training kicked in and for a second all emotion winked out. There was merely the mission, and the need for it to be done—all else flowed from that.

Redoran looked at Kristen. And though his arms were restrained by Zinnia, his eyes began to glow, and from them he prepared to fire quick blasts of destructive dark magic. Kristen unleashed a Withering Chain from her porcelain palm and the Chain slithered rapidly through the air, coiled tightly about Redoran's neck, and with a yank his gaze was thrown off and his eye-blasts thus missed Kristen, even if barely.

Kristen plunged her sword deep into Redoran's chest, wrecking grievous damage just as Alistair's runesaber had. And this, finally, was enough to drain the rest of his magic.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Redoran screamed, and in a final catastrophic burst of his dark magic, the last expenditure of it, that teal energy erupted like a lightning storm about him, there came a bright flash and a pulse of force enough to knock Kristen away and down, and then all was quiet once more, the field outside Bluecott laden with the grim silence of the grave.

Redoran lay on the ground, freed from Zinnia's restraint. He was still alive and his wounds gone, but he was flattened entirely by exhaustion, looking like a man stricken low by a deathly fever. All traces of magic had departed from him, and he was reduced now to merely a man with shattered delusions of grandeur.

Kristen sat up. "Alistaaaaair!" she called out hoarsely. "Zinniaaaaaaaaa! Are you alright!?"

Alistair Krixus Zinnia

 

[VigiloConfido]

KHORVAYNE​

From afar, the sorceress Khorvayne watched. Her far-seeing magic gave her sight of Redoran, oh, what promise he had in his desperation; it gave her sight of Lothar, and what a strange and beautiful one he was, with those eyes bespeckling his arm; it gave her sight of Alistair, and my, what a lovely contraption, that magic sword of his; it gave her sight of Zinnia, and oh what a magnificent form she had to behold; and last, it gave her sight of...

"Kristen Pirian. Faithful of Aionus."

She smiled knowingly.

"If our paths keep crossing like this, one might be tempted to call it...providence."

A dark mist swirled up from her feet, engulfing the whole of her body. The mist transmogrified into a murder of crows, each with eyes glowing teal, bursting upward into flight. She was gone.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

For a moment, Alistair could not feel anything. Was this death? Was he paralyzed? Oh, no, certainly not that. All of the pain came rushing back to him as a painful groan escaped his lips. Through excruciating pain, he forced himself to roll back over onto his back. Time for a quick check-in.

Broken arm? Definately, it wasn't supposed to bend like that. Broken ribs? He hoped so, because they were not supposed to feel like that. Blurry Vision? Yeah, what else was new? Broken legs? Surprisingly no, that meant he could walk.

With a great deal of effort and some awkward squirming around, Alistair forced himself to his knees. He could hear Kristen calling his name, so that likely meant they were not dead. He also did not hear the ridiculous ramblings of Rhedoran, so...they won?

His vision cleared a little as he saw Kristen running towards them. A tired smile lit up his face.

"I-I'm...ok. Nothing some of the healers can't fix."

He quickly turned to Zinnia, he had seen the way she fought in her new form. If she was still itching for a fight, he highly doubted he could do anything to stop her at the moment.

Kristen Pirian Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

The last of Zinnia's strength faded as Kristen finished the job once and for all. The same pulse that knocked Kristen away did the same to Zinnia, just in the exact opposite direction. She rolled backwards as she struck the ground, tumbling tail-over-teakettle before coming to rest, facedown in the dirt.

Zinnia would offer no reply to Kristen's call. She was spent, battered, bruised, and burned...but breathing.

Alistair would be able to see her crumpled form and watch as the tail, wings, and other draconic features on Zinnia's body withdrew and vanished, save the horns atop her head, which merely shrunk down. For all that, though, Zinnia was unmoving beyond the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the telltale sign of respiration.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Alistair replied. And to him Kristen answered honestly, cautiously touching the line-burn on her face as she said, "I shall...have to see the same healers."

But there came no answer from Zinnia. Kristen, realizing, glanced about frantically. She saw her fellow Initiate then (those strange features now gone...mostly), across from where Redoran lay prone and with some significant distance between them.

Already Kristen, with quivering limbs, was coming to her feet in an unsteady rise, little more than precarious balance and stilted slowness available to support her shuffling trek. "Alistair..." she said, her lips smacking as she wet them, strained moans of fatigue interrupting her at every turn, "...may you...watch over Redoran...please?"

Kristen passed by her cousin where he lay. Soon, she would deal with him.

First, however, she dropped down to her hands and knees beside Zinnia. She was breathing! Good! Good!

"Zinnia," she said, touching her shoulder and giving it a shake. "Zinnia, can you hear me?"

Alistair Krixus Zinnia

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Be careful what you ask for. Alistair sighed with relief when he saw Zinnia's form disappearing, but that was quickly followed by worry when it was clear she was not getting up. He could have struggled over to her, but thankfully Kristen was quicker on her feet at the moment.

Alistair nodded as he moved to stand over Redoran with his hand resting on his last remaining dagger.

"With pleasure."

It did not look like he had much to worry about with the man, so he spared a glance back towards the town that they had somehow, against all odds, protected. There he was some signs of movement.

Some members of the town, the same men who had fled during battle to find their families, were now beginning to venture out to discover the results of the battle.

While Alistair could be annoyed with them later, they had bigger worries to deal with. He began to wave his one good arm.

"Hey, come over here and help!"

Zinnia Kristen Pirian