Page 56 of His Darkest Devotion

Suddenly, I sense a surge of malevolent magic from behind me—a wave of scarlet illusions that burn like embers.Red Purnas.I whirl, spotting robed purnas on an outcropping across the plateau, chanting in unison. Their illusions coil outward like serpents of living fire, striking at our lines from behind. A human fighter near me cries out, illusions searing his back as he collapses. My blood chills.They’re using chaos illusions to sow panic among our ranks.

A snarl of frustration leaves my lips. We’re caught between two swarms—gargoyles from one side, Overlord’s and Red Purnas from the other. If we don’t push back, we’ll be surrounded. The Matriarch’s voice rises above the din, chanting an older ward. I catch a glimpse of her staff glowing bright blue, a swirl of illusions forming a partial shield that blocks some Red Purna assaults. But we can’t hold forever.

I fling another wave of illusions at the Red Purnas, twisting the air so it fractures their line of sight. Some screech in irritation, illusions colliding with illusions in a storm of flickering images. Pain slices through my temples—too much magic, too fast. I push through it, gritting my teeth.

A gargoyle roars to my left, bounding over a fallen orc. I whip my staff around, conjuring a net of transformation magic. For half a heartbeat, I imagine turning it fully to stone, but my mind falters—fear that I might cause more monstrous creation if the spell goes awry. Instead, I force its limbs to seize, a partial petrification that leaves it sprawling. A human soldier lunges, finishing the beast with a spear.

The clash intensifies. Lightning arcs from Olyssia’s vantage, frying a cluster of gargoyles that tried to flank us. Orc warriors slam into Overlord soldiers, axes clashing against dark steel. The wind howls across the plateau, scattering ash from the illusions. My illusions waver, battered by the chaos, but I keep weaving them, forcing illusions to mask our weaker lines or to redirect gargoyle leaps.

Then, in the swirling haze, I spot Vaelin again. He’s pushing deeper into the fray, sword slick with blood and stone shards. My heart leaps—he’s headed toward the center, where a towering gargoyle shape dwarfs the rest.Bladrik.The Gargoyle Warlord stands near a broken spire of ancient rock, roaring commands to his kin, spurring them to greater violence. Vaelin, driven by something deep within, charges for him.

Fear punches through me.Vaelin might be strong, but Bladrik is the warlord.I start forward, illusions flaring. But a sharp, mocking laugh echoes from my right. Before I can react, scarlet illusions slam me sideways, and I stumble.

A robed figure emerges from behind a fallen pillar, eyes glinting with twisted glee. She’s a Red Purna—one I recognize from fleeting coven gatherings. Nerissa’s second-in-command? My throat tightens. “So you’re the one who betrayed our people for a Dark Elf,” she sneers, illusions shimmering around her in vicious arcs.

I snarl, forcing illusions to coil. “You’re the one who betrayed the coven, allying with the Overlord.”

She hurls a bolt of chaos illusions at me, flickers of snarling beasts that tear at my mind. I grit my teeth, countering with a swirl of illusions shaped as glimmering shields. The collision jolts me backward, my skull throbbing.She’s strong.

Nearby, my allied purnas are too busy fending off gargoyles and Overlord soldiers to come to my aid. I’m on my own. Another wave of illusions from the traitor hammers my defenses, forcing me to scramble behind a broken statue. Her mocking laugh rings out again.

I gather my breath.This is not the time to hold back.With a fierce whisper, I channel the space-time magic, letting it spiral around my illusions. The ground warps under my feet, the air shimmering in a small bubble. She lunges around the statue, illusions forming a fiery serpent that lunges at me.

I fling my bubble outward, slowing time at the serpent’s edges, distorting its trajectory. It flails in midair, giving me an opening. My illusions shape into whips of force, lashing across the traitor’s illusions. She screeches as my magic tears at her robe, scorching her illusions with raw power.

Her eyes blaze with fury. “You can’t stop the prophecy from devouring you. The Red Purnas will harness your power, whether you like it or not!”

My heart clenches. “You’re deluded!” I force more illusions around her, shaping a labyrinth of mirrored images. For a moment, she stumbles, disoriented by my illusions reflecting her every move. I seize the chance, summoning a binding spell that crackles along the ground. It reaches her ankles, tangling them in shimmering threads.

She screams, twisting illusions in a final attempt to break free. I brace, sweat dripping down my brow, forcing the binding to solidify. With a flash of arcane light, she collapses, illusions unraveling.Bound, but not dead.My chest heaves, exhaustion rattling me.

No time to rest. I lurch back to my feet, ignoring the ache in my skull.Vaelin.I sense his presence on the other side of the battlefield. I dash past a ring of orc warriors hacking at Overlord soldiers. My illusions flicker, half-spent, but enough to keep me from being an easy target.

Sparks fly as purnas and Red Purnas clash overhead, illusions colliding in showers of color. Gargoyles swarm the plateau, some wresting humans to the ground, others tangling with orc blades. The air reeks of ozone and sulfur, and the thunder of roars mixes with screams.So much chaos.Yet I focus on Vaelin’s silhouette, glimpsed near that towering rock spire.

My heart thuds painfully. He’s locked in combat with Bladrik, the Gargoyle Warlord’s stony wings half-spread, horns glinting. The two circle each other, exchanging fierce blows. Bladrik’s claws slice the air with terrifying speed. Vaelin parries, teeth bared, but I see the strain in his posture, that half-gargoyle energy flickering across his obsidian skin.He’s struggling to keep control.

Desperate, I sprint, illusions swirling in an attempt to reach them. A wave of Overlord soldiers blocks me—Dark Elf warriors with halberds bristling. They lunge. I fling illusions to confuse their lines, forging ephemeral doppelgängers of myself that scatter, drawing their thrusts away. My staff cracks one soldier across the helm, illusions tangling his legs, sending him sprawling. Another soldier roars, slashing at me. I duck, forcing him off balance with a hastily summoned gust. I have no time to kill or maim them all—I just need to get past.

At last, I break through, panting. Vaelin’s roars match Bladrik’s as they collide in a frenzy of steel and stone. Bladrik’s tail whips out, striking Vaelin’s ribs, sending him tumbling. My heart lurches. He crashes against a broken pillar, coughing blood.

“Vaelin!” I scream.

Bladrik snarls, wings flaring menacingly as he advances on Vaelin’s prone form. Something inside me snaps. My illusions flare with raw intensity, space-time magic crackling at my fingertips. I hurl a wave of illusions at Bladrik, forging towering walls of shifting glasslike surfaces. He growls, smashing through them with brute force. But I buy enough time to race to Vaelin’s side.

He groans, blinking at me blearily. Blood trails down the side of his face.No…My chest seizes with dread. “Vaelin, hold on,” I murmur, illusions coiling around us in a protective swirl.

His eyes flick to me, but they’re unfocused. “Elira…” he rasps. “He’s too strong.”

I swallow a wave of panic.We must retreat or find a miracle.Bladrik roars again, already regenerating from illusions I threw at him. The ground shakes beneath his fury. My illusions flicker as my strength wanes.Goddess, how do I save him?

Before I can act, more Red Purnas appear—two robed figures, illusions crackling around them. They fling spells of chaos at me, knocking me aside. I slam into a fallen statue, agony lancing my shoulder.No, not now.

Vaelin tries to rise, but Bladrik seizes him, claws digging into his collar, hoisting him off the ground. My blood turns to ice. Bladrik’s laughter booms. “So fragile, half-breed. Join me or die.”

Vaelin spits, even as his face contorts with pain. “I’d rather die.”

A savage snarl from Bladrik. He rips Vaelin’s sword away, tossing it aside. I choke down a scream. The Red Purnas close in on me, illusions swirling in a net that pins me to the statue. My tears blur my vision as I thrash, desperately trying to break free. They hiss, chanting incantations to keep me bound. “Elira,” one of them sneers, “so much power wasted on you.”

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