As I run, I understand the resident sorcery of Arc depleted my orb. We are not meant to leave here. Some of us now have, while others are being interred into oblivion to the south. The ethereal host is furious.
I come upon Lyra as I hear panic erupt behind me. The Ilfin trapped with us are aware of approaching death.
Lyra stands braced, hands thrown up and out. Her fingers are aglow and crackles of light swirl around her fingers. Damn, it is her Warrior talent. It will end her life far sooner than necessary, as mine will fell me before a life is lived.
I crash into her. “Use your Elemental powers!” As she stumbles, I catch her. “Lyra, I am already compromised; allow me to do this. Shield us with the elements.”
She stares at me for just an instant and then nods. Straightening, she lifts her arms. Again her hands glow, but now the electricity is missing. Throwing her head back, she gazes up, fingers curling.
Lightning bolts smash into the earth between us and the host. Hail thunders down.
Ignoring her manipulation, I stand forth, sword drawn. This is a blade forged on another world, infused with the ability to strip masks from pretend friends … and to pierce the veils surrounding beings without substance. Simply put, it kills ghosts.
We are here.
My heart almost ceases beating when I hear those words. This night is filled with too much emotion and too many surprises, and thus a few moments elapse before I understand.
The Ilfin of Arc are with us. Those already dead. Those enslaved and awaiting their freedom.
I give a grim smile to the ether around me. Clearly the enslavement had not reached their souls also, despite what the slave masters believe. The ancient Glonu only think they harness souls into eternity.
“I see them!” Lyra shouts above howling wind and cacophonous thunder. “I see you, friends!”
“They are with us!” I grin manically.
The first true battle of this time and place begins then.