#extra long chapter

In the end, it had taken Libertus yelling at them to behave like professional hunters, to calm everybody down. His best friend and hunting-brother may have a temper and grouch about things he didn't like in above average volume more often than not, it took quite a bit, however, to actually get him to yell on the top of his lungs – and what powerful lungs they were. Everybody knew that.

At the end of the day, those training exercises could have gone worse and no one had been permanently maimed or killed. That could definitely be considered a victory in some cases. Nyx could understand the hiccups, he really could. All members of the Glaive had found ways to work around the problems of each Unit and Troop over the years. Even Troop Rani with its two feuding members. And now they had to get used to new people hunting at their sides.

It was Pelna who burst through the door of the tiny office Nyx had commandeered, since he, to his utter consternation, actually needed one now, his face a grim mask that grabbed the attention of all in attendance at once.

“Border Patrol just sent the message: Niflheim is on the move again. They say Glauca was sighted with them. The King wants us out there as soon as possible.”

For half a second no one said anything. Nyx jumped up from where he had sat down not a minute ago, nearly knocked a pile of papers off the desk and cursed. Libertus' face looked caught halfway between a snarl and an expression as if he had just smelled something unpleasant, while Luche's face could have been made out of stone.

Nyx took a deep breath, suddenly deathly calm. The smell of ozone started to creep through the air. “Luche, get the others moving and call as many as you can out of their vacation. With Glauca there we need every hunter we can get. Pelna, make sure everybody gets what they need from the inventory and I don't care if some idiot says 'Crownsguard only'. Take it, I'll deal with it once we're back again. Libertus, round up the trucks and tell those damned drivers to be there on time or we'll drive ourselves. We can't let that son of a she-devil any further into Lucis. Also tell Sonitus to get in touch with the Border Patrol, I want to know exactly where the Niffs are. You all have an hour. I'll-”

“You'll get ready and calm down your magic, Nyx. If you fry the truck you're in because you can't control yourself, or worse, blow it up, you won't be getting anywhere,” stated Libertus rather forcefully.

For a moment they stared at each other, both willing the other to back down with their gazes alone. But his hunting-brother was right. He himself may be rather calm, but his magic was a torrent beneath his skin.

“All right,” he conceded. “All right.”

Libertus looked at him a moment longer to make sure he actually meant it, before he nodded and stormed out of the room after the others that had already left the moment they had received their orders.

An hour wasn't a lot of time to prepare, and they hadn't done any exercises for it – Nyx put them on his ever growing to-do list – but they really needed to hurry.

He stayed in the office a few minutes longer, minutes that felt like an eternity, until the animal-deep jungle-instinct raging beneath his skin was reduced to a distant echo thrumming in his mind. But instead of going towards the locker room to get ready, he left the tiny room to get to the Captain's office.

Nyx had tried to stay out of the older man's hair for the last few days as much as possible. But now, makti-oir or not, the Kingsglaive needed their Captain.

In the hallways it was like somebody had poked a beehive. People were everywhere, trying to do whatever they were doing as fast as possible without actually running in the halls. A crowd was assembling around the Glaive's armoury, voices clamouring over each other in a bit to get what they wanted, and fast. Through a gab Nyx could see Tredd trying to keep order with a grim face, and continued on his way. People should know better than to question Tredd within the armoury. The Furias may be traditionally artisans, but if Tredd understood one thing best, it was weapons.

“Captain?” Nyx half asked, half yelled as he knocked on the man's door.

No answer came.

Nyx frowned. Should he open the door anyway? He could feel the gazes of the passing Glaives in his back and decided he could deal with the consequences, should the Captain be in his office. Settling his shoulders and chin in a stubbornly determined expression, he opened to door with one last unanswered knock.

“Captain, I'm coming in.”

The office was empty.

Nyx closed the door behind him to keep curious gazes out and started to search the room for a clue to where Captain Drautos could be. There were no new messages or notes pinned to the walls, no file on the desk that could tell him anything, and he didn't quite dare to actually rummage through the cabinets or the desk.

With a displeased frown Nyx gaze wandered one last time around the relatively spacious room before he whirled around and left. He had better things to do right now than to look for the Captain.

There was a crowd forming outside the headquarters. People stopped and gawked as the Glaive assembled outside in their new groups, while non-fighting members loaded the trucks with field packs, half of which Pelna had managed to wrestle from the Crownsguard's clutches somehow.

Nyx ignored the Insomnians as best as he could and tried to decide how to divide the Troops into Companies. He hadn't had the time to really do that until now, which was coming back to bite him into the ass. He hissed like a disgruntled cat, displeased with himself and those damned onlookers. They had ten minutes left before wheels up and still more Glaives arrived, those having been called in from their vacation.

All in all, Nyx estimated that there were around 200 Glaives assembled, which was less than he liked and more than he had expected. Their numbers had been dwindling steadily for years now. They needed new recruits, but that was a problem for another time. Nothing he could do about it now.

He looked for Libertus. His hunting-brother had the loudest voice he knew and could probably make himself be heard over the noise the easiest. The man stood at the edge of the plaza where the noise wasn't as prevalent and talked into a clunky military phone with a fierce scowl on his face. He hung up before Nyx could reach him.

He gave a lazy salute in greeting and hung the phone that could probably be used as a murder weapon, onto his belt.

“Bad news: only half the usual drivers are there. The other half is 'indisposed' because the call was too short notice,” he sneered.

Nyx suppressed the urge to growl. “Then we won't ask for their services anymore,” he said.

“I have nothing against that,” Libertus shrugged. “We could probably hire a few Galahkari that could use the job, as soon as Crowe figures out our budget. But we need to somehow arrive at the battle before the Niffs stand in front of Insomnia.”

“We can do that,” agreed Nyx. It was a good idea. “Could you do me a favour, big guy?”

At once Libertus eyed him suspiciously. Nyx just rolled his eyes at his best friend's behaviour. He wasn't that bad.

“Hey, it's nothing bad. I just need you to help me with organizing the Troops and getting everybody into the trucks. Oh, and ask for volunteers to drive them.”

Libertus still looked sceptical but nodded and followed Nyx back in front of the crowd.

For a moment Libertus took in the group in front of him, all in the individualized uniforms of the Kingsglaive, and took a deep breath.

“Okay people, listen up!” he yelled so loudly Nyx was tempted to cover his left ear. “Into your Units and Troops! Don't fall asleep people! Troop leaders to the front!”

To Nyx' satisfaction, it didn't even take half a minute for the whole Kingsglaive to stand in front of him in orderly lines. There were eleven Troops in total, ranging from a total strength of ten to thirty-one people.

The two Troops specializing in stealth and hit-and-run tactics would be grouped into one Company, three Troops could be grouped under heavy hitters and assault, he supposed, and a further two fell under demolition. The last four were a bit trickier. One specialized in ranged fighting, one in magic, another was the supply squad and the last could be called a rearguard, he supposed. In the end the mages were stuck with the ranged fighters.

Under the curious eyes of the growing Insomnian crowd and camera flashes, they piled into the trucks as to Libertus' yelled instructions, and departed with only a ten minute delay. The streets were empty of any traffic as they made their way towards the wall and Nyx realized that somebody must have told the City Watch that they were coming through. He sent a quiet blessing to the person who had thought of doing so. Probably either Pelna or Sonitus.

Nyx had absolutely forgotten about it.

Their long convoy passed through the gate and over the huge bridge connecting Cavaugh with Leide without any interruption.

It was shortly after nightfall when they neared the latest known position of the Niflheimr army. They were very close to the Taelpar Crag now. Until now Niflheim had not managed to bridge it and take Duscae. They had gotten close more than once, though, and it showed in the many natural stone and crystalline arches spanning the Crag, that had been fortified or destroyed in the fighting.

Secullam Pass was chosen as their base of operations. Within minutes near blinding floodlights were set up to keep the daemons away, a watch was set up and Unit Kresch, under Sonitus, was sent out to stake out the enemy.

Waiting for a battle to begin had always been the worst for Nyx. It made him restless with pent up energy and broody. It reminded him too much of his time with the resistance in Galahd.

To keep himself from crawling up the rocky walls surrounding their camp, he hunted down Pelna, the newly baked leader of the Gebo Unit. It was a part of the Ulnen Troop which was responsible for their supplies. Right now they were responsible for keeping their floodlights running and distributing the field packs.

“Ohlro ar fahl Eohsas, makti-ori,” greeted Pelna when he saw Nyx coming and crossed his wrists in a formal greeting.

Nyx stared at him and very pointedly rose a hand to his collar bone. Pelna actually rolled his eyes at that, but didn't comment on it. Instead he stepped up to his friend and said: “How can I help you, Nyx?”

“I know it's kind of late to ask, but how did you manage to convince the Crownsguard to part with their stuff? The last time the Captain tried, I heard it nearly ended with somebody dead.”

Pelna stared at Nyx with a raised eyebrow as if to say and this is why you keep me from working? “It's pretty simple. I kept to the tried and true method of 'better ask for forgiveness than permission'. Don't look at me like that, I learned that from you, you know? Damn idiot that you are. I bribed Hephaistos into helping, and he was the distraction while I and some of my new Unit mates got the stuff out.”

It took Nyx a few seconds to actually understand what Pelna had just said, but when he did, he couldn't help himself. He laughed. It was a roaring full belly laugh that made more than one head turn, but Nyx didn't care. This was just too good. Pelna cast him a sour look.

“What's so funny?” asked Libertus as he marched towards them along with Crowe.

Nyx wheezed as he tried to get his laughter under control, only for it to start up again as he opened his mouth to explain.

“It would be so embarrassing, if you died of laughter and took us with you because you guided the Niffs towards our base,” stated Crowe in that typical deadpan of hers, when she found something hilarious but refused to laugh herself for whatever reason.

“I- I'm sorry,” Nyx gasped, fighting to keep the laughter down. He pressed a hand over his mouth. His eyes started to tear up with the effort it took.

“Our dearest First Hunter seems to find it hilarious how I got us the supplies we desperately need,” grumbled Pelna, and got a sage nod from Libertus and an amused huff from Crowe as an answer.

“Don't get me wrong, this is funny and all, but Luche is looking for you. He wants to go over the attack plan with the rest of the lead hunters. Which you should actually organize since it's your job, Nyx,” said Crowe.

“Alright, alright. I'm coming,” Nyx answered as soon as his breathing was steady enough and he didn't fear to burst into laughter again.

They attacked at daybreak. As soon as the sun was high enough in the sky to ward the daemons away. As far as they had been able to tell this was the time the Niffs were most vulnerable since they couldn't depend on their growing mass of daemons. Until now, when it had come to open battle, the Captain had always insisted to wait for the Niffs to attack and defend from a stronger position.

Nyx had decided to do something different.

Units Kresch and Roh, who now belonged to the Tahrolin Troop, and were their stealth specialists, were to circle around the enemy force with a demolition Unit and attack the pens where they kept the beasts they used as an attack force. Hours ago, Luche had taken Roh Unit and had gone to join Sonitus to give him his orders. Simultaneously the heavy hitters would stage a full on frontal attack along with Senehrin Company to give them cover fire.

As soon as Luche's voice came over the comms, reporting that they were in position, Nyx gave the order to march over the wide stone arch spanning Tealpar Crag. Not far behind it, on the other side, was a wall the Niffs had hastily erected, and span their whole compound. It was barely more than a few slaps of concrete stacked onto each other.

A slight breeze ruffled Nyx' hair before the world grew still. Not even the distant calls of the birds could be heard. There was only the warmth of the early morning light, the sound of his own breathing and the feeling of animal-deep jungle-instinct crackling close beneath his skin. A rumbling growl resonated through his chest as his field of vision widened and narrowed down at the same time. Only the wall and what lay behind it were important now. New colours joined the old and some grew muted as his eyes grew more sensitive to light.

Then the crudely erected wall exploded as a combination of old Galahdian seal traps and Lucian fire spells crashed into it.

Nyx stood close enough to feel the hot air lick across his skin. His lips twisted into a snarl that could have been a bloodthirsty smile, as the sound of screeching metal and yelling voices reached him over the roaring fire and falling rubble.

All nervousness was gone as anticipation curled in his gut, and sparks of lightning travelled up and down his arms.

As soon as the rubble had settled, Nyx bounded into the thick oily smoke churning in the air and blocking out the light. Formless shapes tumbled through the thick smoke, and all within the reach of his kukri fell in gurgling screams and burbling whimpers.

The smell of burning metal and rubber, oil and blood clogged his nose, but still he found his way to the other side of the burning hell. Nyx jumped onto the nearest MA Veles and toppled it with a volley of lightning until nothing but a smoking husk of useless metal was left.

A roar echoed between that walls of this area in the base, as he wedged his blades free of the machine he had driven them into. It travelled over the twisted metal and MT and MA units attempting to form a defensive line. It made the air quiver and the hairs on his neck raise in anticipation. It took him a moment to realize that it was him who made that sound. A challenge and announcement of an assured victory at the same time.

Nyx clamped his mouth shut behind his face guard and shook his head. He needed to keep a clear mind. A shot cracked through the air, missing Nyx, who was still crouching on top of the smoking MA Veles, by a hair. Only years of training suppressed his initial instinct to flinch. Instead he threw one kukri into he direction the shot had some from.

The world around him dissolved into a nauseating display of shards of Lucian magic and then he was on top of an MT. His chest slammed into its front and made him groan as the air was knocked out of him. Even through his clothes and armour he could feel the icy cold the MT emitted. The thing couldn't react fast enough and fell lifeless to the floor as Nyx rammed a blade into the masked forehead.

He now stood on a metal catwalk spanning the Niflheimr compound overhead. His new vantage point let him see the Glaives who were now pouring through the opening that had been blown into the wall. A large part of the magitek had blown up along with it. Their fault for storing their shit along the outer wall. Nyx snorted and watched for a moment as the Glaive practically descended upon everything that was still able to move.

Satisfied, he turned away and looked where still a series of explosions shook the air, along with the resounding roars and snarls of furious behemoths and sabertusks. He couldn't really see anything that was going on over the other walls between him and the other Units, but he trusted in their ability to get the job done.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw movement. It was a pair of MT, both of them snipers, aiming at the Glaives below. They hadn't seen him until now. Within seconds he was on them, tackling the first as he aimed a shot and drove a kukri into the knee of the second, who toppled over, off the catwalk and into the fray below. Snarling and eyes blazing, he slammed his now empty hand against the MT's face and sent lightning through it until its mask was nothing more than a warped mass of metal and its limbs stopped twitching uncontrollably.

Again he looked towards the closest inner wall which prevented them from getting further into the strangely improvised base. He had an idea. But as he reached up to activate the communication device, he ripped it off his ear with a foul curse as it fried with a painful pop-spark.

Shit. So much for that, he thought with a twist of his lips. I really should have practised more.

Nyx warped down towards the kukri still lodged into the now dead MT's leg and grabbed the nearest Glaive by the shoulder. It was Axis.

“I need you to relay some orders for me!” he yelled over the cacophony of screeching metal, gun shots, the dying roar of a furious behemoth and the sounds of discharging magic, as people cried and fought and died.

Thankfully Axis didn't bother to ask what had happened to his device and just raised his hand.

“Attention, all Glaives. I'm about to relay orders of the makti-oir in his stead.”

“The most talented warpers are to gather near the wall leading further into the base. We need to get past the gate to prevent the Niffs from organizing a counter attack, so we'll warp over the wall and open it from the inside. Luche is to do the same on his end as soon as those damn behemoths are dead. Oresch Unit is to secure the breached wall as soon as we're finished here.”

Nyx took a deep breath. His magic was pressing against his mind, urging him to hunt, to kill and feast on his prey. Another breath. Not now. Pack came first. Their safety was paramount, and to keep them safe he needed to be able to think.

Dutifully, Axis repeated every word.

With a thankful nod Nyx turned away and made his way towards the targeted wall. It wasn't very high, five metres at most, which was below average for a Niff base, but like in all bases, this one had an opening which was blocked by a series of red lasers that could melt flesh from bones, if someone was stupid enough to touch it.

Axis followed him. The man may specialize in magic based close combat, but his warping skills were above average. Not far from him, Nyx could see Libertus decapitate a MT with a kukri that looked more like a traditional Ostium battle axe than anything else.

Three others met them by the wall. Nyx grinned. Five. Five people for this was a good omen.

“Axis, you're to concentrate on shutting down those lasers, the rest of us will cover your ass. On my mark, we warp. Ready- go!”

In unison they threw their blades. Lucian magic burned like acid on Nyx' tongue as he appeared above the wall for a second before he warped down on the other side, the others following him in a protective formation around Axis in which Nyx was taking point.

His feet barely touched the ground, before he was swarmed by MT. They were those guys with the heavy serrated swords. Nyx cursed and dove out of the way. A sword whizzed past where his head had been not a second ago. Nyx managed to kick the thing in the hip as he evaded another horizontal swing of the sword. The kick caused the upper body of the MT to rotate just enough that it buried its blade into the machine next to it, caving its breastplate in with a high pitched metallic shriek and a sickening crunch.

Before his target could wedge its blade free, he severed the sword arm at the elbow and drove the other blade into its neck. His weight caused it to fall backwards and take another two MT with it. He made short work of them.

“I've got it!” cried Axis and with a hiss the lasers deactivated.

Suddenly the air was filled with the electric whirr of MA units activating. There were eight of them. Kohna. So they hadn't been fast enough.

With a snarl Nyx hurled himself over the last two MT in front of him, twisting the right one's neck and clipping the other in the shoulder. He knew his blades couldn't do much against the MA units, so he sheathed one and used his now free hand to fry the nearest one with a powerful bolt of lightning.

Not far from him Axis was doing something similar, attacking a machine's weak spots with calculated shots of lightning. They needed more mages here. Again Nyx cursed himself for frying his comm. He couldn't distract the other four with him now, so he had no other choice but to retreat.

And nearly run into another Glaive right as he stepped through the gate. Blinking sweat from his eyes, he recognized Libertus. His facecloth had slipped off and revealed a bloody nose.

“Libs! I need you to comm Lesan Unit! Our blades won't do anything against those MA units!”

Without further ado, the man did just that. His voice was drowned out as something further into the base crumbled with a deafening blast. The ground shook.

It was only due to the fact that Nyx stood so close to the wall, that he didn't fall. Libertus didn't fare as well. He fell heavily onto his side and had to quickly roll away as a magitek spear buried itself into the ground where he had just lain. Nyx killed the thing with another blast of lightning.

“Come on, big guy. No time for a nap,” he said as he helped his hunting-brother to stand back up.

The fighting continued in that vein, until they met Luche's Troop in the heart of the base. It was here the officers were housed as well as logistics and communication. Or there should have been.

Instead there was nothing here but a large empty space.

Something was very, very wrong.

He could see the same thought echoed back at him from Luche's face. The man had discarded his hood and facecloth sometime during the fight. His normally slicked back blond hair hung into his forehead and was covered in soot and ash. Other than a few scrapes and a nasty bruise forming over his cheek bone, he seemed to be fine.

The sun beat down upon them, signalling the nearing midday. The air was hot and sticky and stank of ozone and molten metal and rubber. It left an oily film at the back of his throat with each breath Nyx took and made him wish he hadn't already used up all of his meagre water rations.

His muscles ached from the continued fighting and he could feel a stasis nearing. He had simply used up too much of his magic. He couldn't bring himself to regret it, however, as it had saved more than one life.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” he ordered. “This stinks of a trap.”

Next to him Libertus shifted his weight in anxiousness. “I've got a bad feeling about this,” he muttered just loud enough for Nyx to hear.

Suddenly Luche raised a hand and the growing mutterings between the Glaives stopped at once. He activated his comm, clearly listening to something. The longer he did so the paler his already fair complexion grew and a raw look of fear flittered through his eyes. It made Nyx' stomach plummet in dread. Luche looked him in the eye and suddenly Nyx knew.

Glauca.

Ruthlessly, Nyx shoved down the urge to order a full retreat. It had never been stated directly during the planning of this attack, but they would take this chance to kill the monster in the armour, one of the main reasons they had had to flee Galahd seven years ago.

With a resolute nod towards Luche, Nyx opened his mouth to issue new orders, but was interrupted by the sudden cry of “Dropships incoming!”.

“So this really is a trap,” someone behind him mumbled, despair lining the voice.

Nyx gritted his teeth. He knew the sensible thing to do was to order a retreat. At once. Before the trap napped shut.

“Libs, contact Crowe.”

“What? Nyx, we need to fucking go, right now!” his best friend hissed into his ear.

“No!” Nyx half yelled, half growled.

He refused. He refused to let Glauca slip through his fingers again. That man had collapsed the tunnels he, his sister and his mahir had been in, killing the last of his immediate family. He bared his teeth in a snarl.

All eyes were on him.

The high pitched whine of the air ships' engine ground against his sensitive ears.

“Contact Crowe,” he repeated, his voice a harsh rasp. “Ask her if she and her Unit managed to master that storm field spell they have been practising.”

Realization crossed Libertus' face like a ray of sunlight in a dark, cloudy sky and the tense atmosphere eased the tiniest bit.

“This plan is madness,” growled Luche as he came closer.

“I won't let Glauca slip through my fingers this time, if I don't have to, Luche,” Nyx growled back.

The blond man stared at him with hard eyes. Exhaustion was edged into his face, a testament to the overall state of the Glaives present. Damn it, he shouldn't have let all of their main attack force fight from the beginning. It must have been hours now that they had fought without much of a break, safe for a few moments they had been able to steal here and there.

MT didn't grow tired. Humans did.

“She says yes,” interrupted Libertus before Luche could respond.

“Good. Tell her to blast as many ships out of the sky as she can. Units Arl and Sevah, trap this place to Pitioss and back. Those tin cans aren't to take a single step without something going off. The rest of you, regain as much strength as you can before one of the ships make it through. Share any elixirs you might still have left over. I'll go after Glauca.”

“Have the ohtahi triantafe finally cooked your brain? This is madness, Nyx. No one has gone up against that man in a direct confrontation and lived,” Libertus practically yelled.

“Libertus is right. They say not even the Royal House dared to do it, back when Regis still deigned to leave Insomnia,” Luche cut in.

“I won't go alone,” defended Nyx.

“Oh, and who exactly will help you? Our strongest fighters will be here because of your hair brained scheme,” his hunting-brother growled.

“Oresch Unit,” answered Nyx before he could stop to think about what he was doing. “They are by the breached wall. Luche, where is Glauca now?”

Luche was clearly unwilling to answer, but after a few seconds he sighed. “Fine, you win. The Fathers must have blessed you, for your stupid ideas to work so often. He was seen outside the base, close to the Crag and to the north. Don't lose, Nyx. If you do, the whole Glaive is done for.”

Nyx nodded, eyes flashing in a silent promise, and ran out of the base as fast as he could, as the sky darkened with roiling clouds and lightning flashed.

Oresch Unit had not been idle during the fighting. Nyx' experienced eye could see the signs of traps half hidden in the rubble. Discreet lines were drawn into the dust and dirt, and he wondered who had sacrificed their water to make these. Most of them were old Galahdian scourge wardings that had been modified to work against Niflheimr magitek. Their presence read dangerously close to that of a daemon.

Their leader was a petite woman with shoulder length dark, brown hair that, at the right side of her head, was braided close to her head in a series of small braids forming a wave pattern. Her name was Ladone Najad, Tethys' aunt, and was approaching her fiftieth year. She had somehow mastered the art of startling even a behemoth with her presence alone, if she so desired, or she could make herself be completely overlooked.

That was exactly what he needed in this situation. Should he not be able to do it, she could use her talent to catch Glauca unawares and kill him.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Ladone listened to his plan with the gravitas of a person who had seen it all. She didn't say a word until he had ended and looked at her expectantly. One of her thin eyebrows rose the tiniest bit, as she thoughtfully chewed on one of those fireleaves she carried around everywhere.

“You're worse than your thuir ever was,” she drawled and spit a reddish blob onto the ground. “My ancestors and the serpents in the water help me, I'll do it. But I want my makuwid to stay here, makti-oir. I won't let this wall be undefended should something happen, and if I've learned one thing with those zehstiris, it's that there's always something going on with them. I'll follow you, to death, if need be, but be aware that, if I get the chance, I'll take it. This isn't your kill alone.”

Her eyes were piercing and hard as flintstone as she looked at him. He nodded respectfully. Ladone Najad wasn't somebody he wanted mad at him. Ever.

“Of course, namakar,” he answered.

“Good. Then we shouldn't waste any more time. Iase, you're in charge until I get back,” she barked.

A woman in her late thirties and hair cut so short it was nothing more than fuzz on her head, gave a salute. Ladone nodded and turned her attention back towards Nyx.

“Before I forget, here.” She threw a flask at him. It contained a yellowish liquid flecked with blue. “My son-in-law made this. It's better than the dishwater the Lucians try to sell us as an ether. Take it. You look like shit.”

Nyx' only answer was a tired glare, but he emptied the small flask without another word. It tasted kind of like he imagined a swamp to taste like. The thick liquid travelled down into his stomach, leaving a warm and revitalizing trail in its wake. At the very least it worked gentler than the punch in the gut that was a Lucian ether.

“Well?” she said, her head cocked in a way that clearly communicated they should go now.

Without another word Nyx started walking north. They stepped into the shadows of the trees growing close to the edge of Tealpar Crag, and from one moment to the next Ladone seemed to vanish into thin air. Nyx breathed an exasperated huff that just covered how anxious he really was.

Around him nature was unnaturally still. The animals had probably all fled when the fighting had begun this morning. Storm clouds swallowed nearly all of the daylight and lightning shrieked in the sky as it hit a dropship. The combined magic of nine mages weaving the field spell, was a growing weight prickling against his senses. Wind howled through the trees and across naked rock. It reminded him uncomfortably of the first hints of a Galahdian autumn storm.

He snarled to chase away the dread pooling in his gut, making his hands slippery with sweat and his senses going haywire at the sensation of being watched. Which he was. By Ladone. An alley, he reminded himself firmly and stepped out of the thinning trees and into the open. The ground was bare rock with a few stubborn bushels of grass growing here and there, and behind him the enemy base loomed, smoking and wreathed in lightning.

Suddenly, there he was.

General Glauca.

He emerged from the shadows of an erratic boulder like he was a daemon himself.

Each step the mountain of a man took sounded with a dull thud over the lighting roaring in the sky, his very presence filled the air with dread. Nyx crouched down, muscles suddenly too tense as his instincts screamed at him to run, and bared his teeth in a warning snarl.

“Your attack on the base was surprisingly effective, Glaive. You have my compliments,” Glauca snarled in a warped voice that set Nyx' teeth on edge and made his hair stand on end. The decidedly mocking tone didn't make it any better. “But now you are exactly where I want you to be.”

Nyx crouched even lower, nearly on all fours now. The handles of his kukri dug into his palms and he readjusted his grip.

A bone-grinding laugh travelled through the air and suddenly Nyx realized that this... person in front of him couldn't be human. It radiated an energy uncomfortably close to a powerful daemon and through the crevices and seams of the armour shone a dark light that betrayed its true nature. That of absolute malice for malices sake.

Unbidden, an old adage of protection and warding tumbled from his lips.

Another unholy laugh.

“You think this will help you, little Glaive? Words for beings that are nothing more than hot air themselves? Let me tell you one thing: there are no Gods. There are only those strong enough to lord their power over those too weak to do anything about it.”

“I'm not interested in what you have to say, zehstir,” Nyx hissed.

His field of vision widened, and he could now hear the near silent whirr Glauca's armour emitted as he dragged the tip of his huge sword in an arch across the dirt in a mock salute.

“Ah, how long has it been since somebody called me that?” Glauca drawled each word, rolling them around his tongue as if they were a fine wine. “That name brings back memories.”

With a roar of sudden fury, Nyx threw the kukri in his right hand and pounced.

The warp was quick and instinctive. For a split second, he saw nothing but magical particles glowing a near blinding blue. His fingers closed around the grip of his kukri without hesitation as he twisted in the air to strike his prey where his neck met the shoulder.

An ice cold hand clamped around his wrist in an iron grip and tossed him away. Nyx rolled across the dirt, using the momentum to twist into a crouching position again. His breath came in quick bursts and his lungs burned. Damn it. He was too tired for this fight. It had made him a second too slow.

“How pathetic. I expected more of a challenge from an esteemed warrior like you,” mocked the thing masquerading as human.

Thundering steps drew slowly nearer, but this time Nyx wouldn't let himself be goaded into attacking too early.

He stayed still.

Waited.

Magic, free and wild and powerful like the coeurls of his home, thrummed beneath his skin, giving his tiring muscles the opportunity to react fast enough.

Glauca's blade rose and Nyx darted beneath his arm and behind him. He jumped onto the General's back as the man took a jerky step forward, his blade cutting nothing but air where he had without a doubt expected Nyx' head to be.

This tiny mistake gave him enough time to find a grip on the armour as he slammed one of his kukri into the left shoulder guard. Lightning shrieked, bright and deafening, as it travelled from his hand into the blade and then into the magitek armour.

Glauca roared. More in fury than in pain, but it was still loud enough to make Nyx' ears ring and his vision blur. The inhuman sound sent goosebumps up and down his spine.

The armour started to glow as too much energy travelled through it and began to melt away. With a triumphant growl, Nyx challenged even more lightning. Slowly, oh so slowly, he could feel the armour give away. But it wasn't fast enough.

His prey started to struggle, trying to get him off.

In response Nyx slung one arm around the helmet and watched as it started to light up as it was assaulted by bolts of lightning. With another roar of fury his prey stumble backwards. One step. Then another. Farther and farther until Nyx' back hit the erratic boulder. Hard.

Dark spots danced across his vision and the air was pressed out of his lungs. His grip slacked and the lightning stopped as his concentration broke.

Something hit him hard in the face. He could taste blood on his tongue and blinding pain exploded behind his eyes as the back of his head collided with the boulder at his back. Again he was thrown through the air. Only this time he landed painfully on his side.

He lay there as he struggled to pull air back into his lungs. Only luck had allowed him to not lose his grip on both kukri. Shit, he hoped he hadn't broken any ribs.

Harsh laboured breaths echoed mechanically through the magically charged air. It stank nauseatingly of ozone, hot metal and something putrid that made Nyx retch.

“Do you... really think that... something like this... will kill me, Glaive?”

I hoped it would, Nyx wanted to say but couldn't, too busy with just breathing and dragging himself up onto his feet again. He couldn't allow himself to stay down. To stay down was to die. And he couldn't die now when things were finally changing.

Finally he managed to clear his swimming vision enough to be able to focus on Glauca again. The monster in human skin still stood by the bolder. He did not quite lean on it, but it was clear that the melted armour on his shoulder was giving him trouble. The destroyed parts on his helmet were already regenerating, giving Nyx only the most fleeting of glances at a patch of pale skin at the temple.

He cursed quietly inside. He had nearly had him.

His limbs trembled as he forced himself to stand upright. Stasis was looming dangerously close. He had put nearly all of his newly regained magical strength into that attack.

Movement on top of the boulder caught his eye. Barely a moment later Glauca howled. Still eerie and hair raising and mechanical. But this time in pain as a long and thin kukri found the weakest spot of his destroyed shoulder guard.

Ladone twisted  the blade with a thundering war cry before ripping it out again. She was gone again within the blink of an eye. As if she had never been there in the first place.

A sword slammed into the boulder and nearly cut it in half.

“I will make sure there is nothing left of both of you to bury once I'm finished with you,” hissed Glauca through clenched teeth.

Nyx barked a laugh. An idea started to take form in his mind. It was madness, but it could work. He hoped Ladone would catch onto it. Otherwise he was pretty much dead.

“For that you need to catch me first,” he rasped with sharp grin full of teeth and retreated back the way he had come between the trees.

As he had hoped Glauca followed him, each step a tiny earthquake.

Wood splintered as his huge blade hit the trees Nyx duck behind, just dancing behind its reach like a cat playing keep-away.

A gust of wind that shouldn't have been. Metal rang against metal as Ladone struck again and vanished just as quickly as she had before. As Glauca made to follow her Nyx charged in a half hearted attack that missed its mark by an embarrassingly huge margin, to keep the man's attention focused on him.

Further and further Nyx lured Glauca between the trees. Closer and closer to the edge of the Crag. To an arch close to the one the Glaive had used to cross it, but still far enough away from the others. Hopefully.

Nyx' movements started to get sluggish. The burning in his lungs had exceeded uncomfortable and passed into painful a while ago. Each new breath he took was a struggle between his need for oxygen, to just keep moving a little further – nearly there, nearly there nearlytherenearlythere – and the instinctive need to avoid the pain it caused to suck in each new gulp of air.

His concentration had shifted from avoiding the sword chasing him to just keep moving. He knew, if he stopped, it would be over.

Suddenly the trees were gone and the Crag gaped at his back, beckoning the unwary to a horrifying death. A death Glauca had a scheduled meeting with, if Nyx had anything to say about it.

Oh so carefully he started to inch his way over the arch, concentrating only on Glauca and what his prey was doing. His steps had grown uneven and his left arm hung uselessly by his side. There were obvious chinks in his armour now. Nyx grinned a bloody grin. Ladone had gotten the bastard good.

Voices sounded from his left and behind him, but he ignored them in favour of Glauca. They were so close. So close to killing the second nightmare of Galahd.

Suddenly the man stopped right at the edgy of the arch. Nyx tensed.

“Do you think this cheap trick will work on me?”

Too late Nyx realized what Glauca meant. He flung himself forward in a futile attempt to stop it, but he knew he wouldn't be fast enough. Exhaustion ate away at him, both magical and physical.

A dark shadow slammed into Glauca's back with a defiant cry as the sword was driven into the arch, crumbling it with a nauseating wave of something that was neither magic nor scourge.

Nyx stumbled. One step, then another.