Phoenix raked at Hawk’s wings as Rook went in for a low blow with its talons. Though they were beyond language, they communicated with a common cause and fought as one. Hawk, older than them both rebuked their attacks with its wing tips and swung its battle axe with the force of a hurricane. It dug deep into Rook’s shoulder, from which purple blood ran freely and lightning crackled.

“The Old Gods failed. They will never walk this earth.” Y’edda, gloating in her victory, stood over Duffy and raised her six blades.

“We already are.”

Leopold loosened a flurry of ravens, recovered quickly as the Old God’s power invigorated him. They struck Y’edda’s upper right arm and as she roared, the sword dropped to the snow. It formed a crater, it’s power spent, and the Thayne turned and scowled.

“You are nothing, Raven.”

“I beg to differ. What took you so long to fight your own battles, witch?” Finally finding his own two feet, the merchant waded into battle with his spear held at arm’s length and a whirl of malice forming about its tip. Though he struggled to keep control of himself, some semblance of his old self empowered his weapon with the power of death itself.

“Violence is a powerful tool, best used only when mortals ignore our warnings.” Two swords dove towards Leopold, but he smacked one aside and a raven parried the other. The final one circled overhead, ready to heed its master’s call.

“That’s what Hromagh said, just before I cut his head off.” Duffy appeared over the rise, bloodied brow and eyes dancing with mischief. He had summoned Lysander, his black katana, and absorbed the remnants of Ruby’s spell song into its blade. It vibrated intensely, keened to the point where even a god’s fabric would tear to shreds if struck.

“You turned your back on divinity, bard. You are nothing.” Y’edda struck one sword at Duffy and another at Leopold, using the distraction as leverage when outnumbered.

“I turned my back on your lies!” Their blades clashed, and despite Duffy blocking it, he pushed back ten feet with grit teeth and immeasurable pain running down both arms and bruising his shoulders. “Tantalus lives, despite your meddling!”

She leant closer, abyssal eyes reflecting Duffy’s grimace. Her breath was cold, filled with false promises and the tales of ages.

“For how long?”

Leopold replied by way of brute force. He disconnected the saber from his spear so that Y’edda’s blade pushed through and cut deep into the permafrost. He dropped the shaft, but brought the blade around and held its hilt in both hands. He drove it down into the wrist and pushed it in to the cross guard.

“Long enough.” Duffy smirked. Fighting through the pain, he gave way just enough to slide under the sword as it swiped through and met the same fight.

Y’edda screamed with anger, and left the blades where they stood, like metal henges and a reminder of her arrogance. With three blades left, she brought two to the side with the bard and held the last in a duelling stance against the merchant.

“You must choose, Duffy Bracken. Shall the Ice Henge fall, or will you lose your sister forever?” Another ploy, Duffy thought. But he looked past the lithe adversary at the bestial melee on the far side of the Ice Henge and felt sick to the stomach.

“Leopold, bring Ruby back to us!”

He snarled, and with blade singing in his hand, called upon absent friends to fulfil his promise to his family that their struggles would not be in vain. A promise that the Thayne would be crushed, and the Tap returned to the world. He leapt at Y’edda with his own bestial fury, and though no animal appeared from within, he lost himself in the moment and the sound of blades clashing echoed out into the hollow night sky.