Her eyes betrayed her.

Though she willed them to open with every ounce of her being, they would not. Iliya was lost in a sea of peaceful warmth. The sensation reminded her of her first visit to a hot spring, both gentle and pulsing with energy.

Despite her temporary blindness, she knew she was awake.

The spell Qudja cast upon her was weaving through her body like steel cordage, ensnaring her body into this dreamstate.

So Iliya did the only thing she could think of.

Sliding down the wall, she grasped at the floor and felt around for the seams. There was an elaborate network of seams engraved into the marble, creating pathways for her fingers to follow.

Her body seized, fighting against the movements as she fought the repercussions of the spell.

She could hear Qudja's panting, the stress of warding off all those creatures by herself finally taking a toll on her body. Iliya knew for a fact her mana was running low, she would collapse at this rate, with no help.

It left her wondering why Qudja thought it was safer if she were unconscious.

She couldn't consider that now though.

Iliya crawled toward the familiar sensation of Qudja's magic and prayed she was dragging herself in the right direction. She couldn't let her friend die protecting her, not when Iliya could barely recognize the danger.

Checking inside herself, Iliya felt for her access to mana, hoping she would have access long enough to do what she needed to.

Her plan would work if she could find the barrier.

With one deep breath, then another, Iliya inched herself forward. She knew she didn't have long before Qudja realized what was happening and attempted to incapacitate her again.

She'd worry about the consequences later.

Iliya's fingers brushed against the wall of liquid, tingling like starfire against Qudja's impenetrable mana. Concentrating, she willed her mana to merge with her friend's. Despite her uncertainty, Iliya continued breathing as deeply as possible, pouring her reserves into the barrier. With each moment, her body twitched and seized, but she fought.

The sound of hissing filled the air, slowly morphing into a soft sizzle as the smell of sulfur began to fade from their surroundings.

"Iliya..." she heard Qudja say through the uproar. "What have you done?"

Saved your life, she smiled.

The quip never escaped her lips as exhaustion kicked in and swept her away from the wall. Her arms buckled beneath her and Iliya collapsed again.

Shrinking away, she felt the spell take hold of her and this time she did not fight.

~ 🔮 ~

Tunnel vision.

After destroying two of the giant demons, Sorein had tunnel vision.

His arms and legs grew numb with the pain and exhaustion, allowing him a second wind to cut into the battlefield. More and more shadow erupted into the air as the creatures were eliminated from the ballroom.

Sorein was able to see five feet in front of him again, his lungs burning as oxygen began to fill them.

Jeremy stood at his back, his breathing labored as well, bracing himself against one of the pillars supporting the ceiling. His suit was stained with sludge and blood, the slickness of the coagulating liquids spiking his short hair.

Every small crack was mended on the towering quartz surface of the Aphyre.

Despite their efforts, creatures were still escaping from the abyss in the ballroom floor. Andrin had replaced Ezre, who was now wielding behind the King of Azuris. Compared to the amber flashes of Ezre's magic, Andrin's cobalt blue mana was like a raging sea of wrath that swept through the crevasse.

The blast was so intense it washed out over the edges and spread across the floor.

He was amazed when he watched one of the Therian Guards lose their weapon and attempt to fight with physical contact. Sorein knew that without using mana, it would never work, as their fists slipped straight through the entities as if they were nothing more than smoke. He wasn't sure why the brawl caught his attention, only that watching as his armor was torn from his body and razor sharp claws began ripping him apart was the most disturbing thing Sorein had ever witnessed.

Unable to purge the sight from his head, Sorein's autopilot halted when light blasted through the left side of the room.

Weaving through an onslaught of black and emerald, golden power consumed the room in a blinding flash. Clouds of monsters evaporated immediately, those that shrunk away still badly burned and melted upon contact. The flare left as soon as it came, but the faint smell of honeysuckles and melon whispered through the air in its wake.

Sorein had never seen such a powerful display from the Princess and he wondered where her strength had come from. He'd watched Iliya train many times, going so far as to spar with her on occasion.

Yet the pure, unfiltered mana burning through the demons in waves was new to him.

For one second, Sorein was proud.

Until the light began to fade and it did not leave an orb of green in its wake.

"No..." he breathed.

The remaining swarm of creatures consumed the space of their small corner.

He moved without thought.

In the back of his mind, he could barely hear Jeremy yelling his name and cursing.

Sorein cut through the length of the ballroom in seconds, impaling three different demons like a Chiori street Kabob in the process. He flicked them off the end of his sword and threw himself in the pile of death waiting for him, praying he didn't see two bodies sprawled on the ground.

He didn't see much of anything, cloaking himself in a static forcefield that stunned anything it touched and electrocuted those who drew too close. No thoughts entered his mind as Sorein shredded through the remaining creatures, cutting though every lengthy limb he could reach until there was nothing but black mist in his wake.

The smoke began to clear, revealing patches of the room where surviving entities remained. He wouldn't dare count the casualties.

Panting, he couldn't bring himself to turn around. Sorein didn't want to see if his worst fears were true, not as the tide was beginning to shift in their favor.

There were only a few demons left now, all falling to the Guards left standing.

But the sickening feeling that gripped his mind and body churned into something he couldn't control, forcing him to look at the ground.

There, unconscious and slack against the marble floor, was Iliya with her fingers outstretched and several cuts lining her arms. Beside her, Qudja had fallen backwards and landed behind the Princess' legs awkwardly. From the contorted position she was in, she must've been attempting to shield Iliya's body. Qudja's cheeks, arms and legs were covered in the off-putting sludge, a large gash bleeding through the fabric of her gown along the ribs.

However violated, they were safe.

Alive.

He choked on a breath as he turned to face the ballroom, only to find that most of the entities were gone.

Sorein did his best to avoid the bodies on the floor, both disturbed spirits and real people. He ran his gaze over everyone in the room, taking attendance mentally.

His blood ran cold again when his eyes landed on Jeremy. The Captain's dark skin was smeared with blood and wounds, one arm sagging in his lap and motionless. He was barely sitting up, a cut dangerously close to his throat and purple rising around his eye. Jeremy looked as of he'd been thrown into a mortar and pounded with the pestle.

Standing over him – shirt drenched in blood and sweat – was the most lethal version of Noah Sorein had ever seen. The man's sword was discarded beside them, his critical eye raking over every inch of skin he could feasibly witness.

Rage rippled off him in waves, his brown stare lifting from his fallen friend and landing on Sorein with conviction.

The slow calculation in Noah's movements were almost threatening, but a thread quickly snapped and wild anger took over. He launched himself across the room and grabbed Sorein by the collar.

"Aida save you," Noah snarled, yanking him closer. "What in Heilos were you thinking, leaving him? In the middle of battle! He almost died!"

Sorein wasn't certain he'd ever seen the lighthearted, carefree human so angry. For once, the feeling sat horribly in his gut and made his chest weak. A sensation close to fear but still only startled. Curious.

"Is Jeremy alright?" He asked slowly.

"Alright? Alright? If I hadn't abandoned my post, he would be without a head! It's a miracle he only has broken bones! And what of you? Dodging into a losing battle just to rescue some Princess? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

Sorein blinked, freezing.

He had no idea how to handle this side of Noah. How to speak for what he was accused of. So he reached for the irritation bubbling up within him and growled back.

"She and Qudja were staring death in the face–"

"We all were!" Noah yelled, throwing Sorein back with no time to prepare for a fist to the face. "You selfish coward," he spat, stepping away.

The punch stung, aching more than Sorein anticipated.

"What did you want me to do?" Sorein snapped back. "Let them die?"

"Today was the day they have been training you for since you were five years old, Sorein. I expected you to be a man, I expected you to communicate! Instead you left a man, your right hand, your Captain in the middle of combat. You are the reason he is laying on that floor, unable to move. Unable to stand. You left him in the pursuit of death– chasing a nearly impossible goal!" Noah ground out, his hands clenching with stabbed knuckles. "You will bear that weight for the rest of your eternal life... I hope it was worth it."

Sorein frowned. "There was no time."

"One word. Two. A gesture," Noah continued, waving his hand in example. "Tell him to move, to come with you. Find back up!"

"There wasn't time!"

Noah scoffed and shook his head, casting a lasting glare before stalking over to one of the final Priestesses and asking for aid. Ignoring him as if Sorein no longer existed. They knelt down by his friend, beginning to wrap his dislocated shoulder.

He crept up behind them, watching as Jeremy groaned. Tears of pain lined the corner of his eyes but didn't fall.

It was then he realized Iliya was also being attended.

He stood alone in the wreckage, those who weren't in shock or attending anyone staring at him. Destruction was the only thing left in the wake of wreckage and loss.

Ezre brushed past him effortlessly, rushing to Iliya's side. People were either whispering among themselves in terror or agony, but this moment after the fighting had become bitter and empty.

Sorein never felt so lost as he walked to the stairs.

The silence, deafening.