Page 105 of Taloned Heart

She walked out onto the courtyard to see that Margaret had not been lying about the size of her army. They had twice the amount of elves than expected. And now Lore’s army was split in two. Fighting those who were still in the courtyard and those who were outside the castle walls. They were pinned down, just as Margaret likely wanted them to be.

Algor fought like a whirlwind. He never stopped moving, those hammers flying all around him so quickly they had turned into a blur. But the newer elves were more fresh. One of them fired an arrow, and she didn’t see it in time. It struck the dwarven king directly in the eye and Lore felt that anger surge again.

She grabbed his soul too, slamming it back into his body and making him stay like that. It was wrong, but it didn’t matter. Not right now.

Snarling, she turned to see Hyperion fighting with a group of elves who fired arrows through his wings. The pain rocked through her just at the same moment that Nyx screamed. The acid balls had found her children.

Draven’s answering scream was one of complete and utter anguish. She knew that pain. It rained down upon her and Lore couldn’t think, she couldn’t fight, she couldn’t get through it.

And all the while, her power bubbled through her.

Zephyr hissed out a breath as a sword ran through his belly and an elf snarled, “Now they will have no king.”

Beauty laid out on the ground, her eyes staring up at the sky as she prayed for death. It would not be swift, with her guts hanging out of her belly like that.

They were losing. All the elves, all the people she loved, everyone was dying and Lore stood above them on the castle walls like an avenging goddess who had wanted them all to die.

But she did not want them to die.

And Lore realized at that moment, they didn’t have to. It wouldn’t be difficult to hold them all in their bodies while she worked, and that was the moment she realized how infinite her power really was.

She wasn’t just able to move the moon in the sky or call upon the land to help her. She could stop death itself. The power surged inside her, whispering of a dark throne and a dark goddess who would rule this land with the iron fist it needed. These people were corrupt. She could not trust them to run this kingdom on their own. If she even tried, they would fail and she would be here again, watching those she loved die and die and...

Die.

Pulling herself out of the darkness, Lore reached her arms over her head and she called out for the moon. “Goddess, guide me.”

And she felt it. The moon whispering to her of a thousand years of knowledge, of goddesses who had walked this earth and knew that their power came not only from the moon. Didn’t she remember?

She was not the Lady of Moonlight.

She was the Lady of Starlight.

Lore felt her chest expand as she started down the stairs to the courtyard. Her voice deepened in a low hum as she called upon all the empty soldiers they had created. Animating them with the dark magic that Lindon had whispered in her ear. These toy soldiers would fight for her. They would destroy all those who stood against her people, not just Lore, but those who fought on her side. They would leave those who ran, but they would follow them until Lore knew what to do with their insidious ranks.

And as she walked, she pulled off her armor. Her warriors froze all around her, staring at the goddess who dropped metal armor on the ground as she strode past them. First her boots so her feet could sink into the earth. Then her leg guards so she could move easier. Her chest plate thudded onto the ground so she could summon with her heart.

Lore removed her helm last, shaking out her sweaty long hair and licking her lips. A few of her own people had rushed toward her, their swords raised as if to protect their goddess, but they did not need to do that any longer.

Lore touched them and their entire bodies shivered. “You have fought long enough,” she said. “You have proven yourselves brave and worthy. Now, I will end this.”

Those who fought in Margaret’s army ran from her. She had no idea what they saw, only that she was glowing. She paused by Algor’s head and ripped the arrow out of his eye. “Thank you, my friend.”

And so she strode out onto the battlefield, barefoot and weaponless, other than the bloodied arrow she held in her hand. Margaret’s forces fought against her people who had streamed outside with Lore, renewed by the sight of their goddess and those who had dug themselves out of the ground.

Lore glared up at the sky, and then to the battlefield. “This is your last chance.” Her voice snaked through the air, whispering in the ears of all those who were still alive. “Run now.”

A few did. But not enough.

The elves would be few indeed, but they would know suffering when she was done.

Lore lifted her arms and pulled the moon in front of the sun. Her goddess would watch as she ripped down the very stars from the sky and used them to defeat those who fought against her.

Balls of fire and flame, bright white and burning, rained down from the sky. She kept shields over those who fought with her, ensuring there were still some people alive to talk of what their goddess had summoned. And they all stood, watching in awe as Margaret’s armies burned.

Her stars rained down. They blasted the earth into great hollows, cooling into molten glass as they pooled and sucked in any elf or creature that tried to run from them.

Screams filled the air. Cries for mercy, but Lore had none of that left. She had given them so many chances, and now they would find nothing less than vengeance in her eyes.

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