As her brothers prepared themselves, Cronos by beginning to incant a spell and Vilhylm by withdrawing a mask, Callindra began swinging Brightfang by his chain. The sword wasn’t balanced for it, and instead of spinning smoothly in a circle, the blade began to roll as its curved edge caught currents of the wind. The effect was a low rumbling thrum; much like the bullroarers village children played with.
Running forward, she launched herself off a lichen encrusted sarcophagus to leap high in the air. Brightfang’s arc changed, the blade swinging high into the sky to gather a crackling nimbus of living lightning around its spinning length. With a shout of anger, Callindra brought her sword flashing down with all the power she could muster. It struck The Ravenger on the right shoulder with a flash of electricity and an impact that she could feel even through the chain.
Her feet touched the ground and she yanked hard on the chain, sending her sword twirling back towards her. She shook from exhaustion, this wasn’t her first fight of the day and the others had taken a lot out of her already. The Ravenger covered the distance between them so quickly that it nearly reached her before Brightfang did.
The monster’s intense heat once again scorched her body, but she had a smile of satisfaction on her face. Its right arm was hanging uselessly by its side. Unable to dodge its oncoming rush, all she could do was brace herself.
Vilhylm slammed into the attacker, knocking him off his feet even as he reached for her with a flaming arm. As the monster turned to face this new threat Cronos attacked it from the other side, hacking into it with his broadsword with a spray of blood. The Ravenger roared, spinning to attack him but Callindra slashed it across the spine and it retreated back into the chapel.
“You can’t run from me!” Callindra yelled, sprinting after it. Coming through the door, she emerged into a scene from nightmare.
A charnel house of slaughter littered the floor, bodies torn and shredded. A portal of glowing silver light stood on one side, the view beyond an unending field of fires and torment. Laughter echoed throughout the chapel, seeming to come from everywhere but Callindra ignored it. Running inside she gathered the Weave about her and her steps became faster, every movement accentuated by winds and magic.
“I have waited so long.” The Ravenger rumbled, “I have been waiting for one who can break the seals for what seems like hundreds of years. Perhaps it has been hundreds of years.”
“To the nine hells with your waiting.” Callindra said, spinning in a whirlwind, Brightfang a razor sharp extension of her arm as she slammed into her enemy. As she struck, scintillating bolts of lightning followed each swipe of her sword, hammering into The Ravenger with elemental force.
The creature staggered backwards in the face of her onslaught and she continued pressing her attack in spite of the heat that singed her hair and blistered her skin. A series of magical bolts streaked over her shoulder in the pale violet color of Cronos’s magic, hammering into the creature one after another. It staggered back from the onslaught and Vilhylm’s brutish form leaped forward, his arms extended in a parody of a mountain ape but with twining vines growing all throughout.
Vilhylm charged into The Ravenger with a rolling shoulder block as inexorable as an avalanche, smashing his hands into the stone floor of the chapel to give himself more leverage. As he did so, vines exploded from the floor behind the creature, further throwing it off balance. With a shriek of rage, Callindra spun Brightfang in a wild arc and the power of Nordji himself burst through the sword’s tip striking The Ravenger in the chest and sending it spinning backward into the shimmering portal.
“NO!” It howled, “You know not what you do! I was holding the power and now it returns!” As it fell, the huge burning body began to shrink and unravel, twisting in a hideous parody until Pierce was revealed at the center, his eyes sunken and burning with emerald fire.
“Return to the Hell that spawned you!” Callindra cried, and flung her sword forward to strike him squarely in the throat. With a gurgling cry the desiccated form fell backward into the opening, fully consumed by it and Brightfang sang in protest as she yanked him out of the collapsing portal. A rumbling, grinding sound began to resonate throughout the chapel and they all ran as best they could to escape before the building collapsed into rubble.
Panting and shaking with battle frenzy, Callindra slowly began to understand the import of what had just happened. Her brother’s only hope had been of the Abyss. When she wiped Brightfang off before sheathing him, the cloth caught on her hand and a sliver of metal sliced her palm open. Staring at her beloved sword in disbelief, she saw that a tiny fracture had begun to form on the thick flat of the blade. Her bonded blade Brightfang was beginning to suffer the same fate as all the other practice swords she had used.
“No.” She whispered, not even noticing as tiny vines sprang up to stitch the small wound on her palm. “I cannot lose you. Not you too.” It was too much, and she fell to her knees in the ancient graveyard and let tears fall unheeded from her eyes. Vaguely she felt gentle hands leading her away, settling her on a bedroll and prying her hands from where she gripped Brightfang’s blade.