There was no time for thought, only the primal scream of instinct. The Judicator's cannon glowed, bathing the ruined loft in an intense blue light that promised annihilation.
"Inferno Dash!" The words tore from my throat, less a command, more a raw impulse.
Heat exploded outwards from me – not flame, but a concussive wave of pure thermal energy, momentarily distorting the air, making the rain sizzle and steam. In the same instant, I grabbed Kaelen's arm, pouring speed into my limbs. The world became a searing red-orange blur as I launched us sideways, away from the window, towards the gaping hole in the floor where a staircase used to be.
Behind us, the world turned white-blue. The roar of the Judicator's blast deafened me, the entire building shuddering under the impact. Splintered wood, plaster dust, and superheated air slammed into our backs as we plummeted through the hole, landing hard on the debris-strewn second floor.
Kaelen coughed, scrambling upright, his elven eyes wide with shock but his movements economical. "Spirits! Are you trying to get us vaporized?"
"Better than staying put!" I gasped, my lungs burning, legs trembling from the sudden expenditure of energy. The Dash always left me shaky, the internal fire churning uneasily.
But there was no time for recovery. Shouts echoed from the plaza below. The Judicator, likely undamaged, would be readjusting its aim. Hunters would be converging.
"Out! Now!" Kaelen hissed, already moving towards a different, less exposed window overlooking a narrow side alley.
We half-climbed, half-fell out of the window, landing jarringly on slick cobblestones. The alley offered minimal cover – overflowing bins, a collapsed doorway. Back in the plaza, the sounds of combat raged, punctuated by the distinctive crack of blessed bolts and a low, chilling hum I recognized as Caelum's blades slicing through the air.
He was still fighting. Still alive.
We had to move, circle around, try to lose ourselves in the maze of the Weaver's District and report back to Valerius. That was the plan. The Resistance plan.
But as we reached the alley's mouth, intending to dart across the street, three figures blocked our path. Hunters. Clad in black, segmented armour that seemed to drink the dim light, visored helms hiding their faces, crossbows raised. Their movements were unnervingly silent, deliberate.
Kaelen drew his short swords, blades gleaming faintly. I dropped into a low stance, calling the heat closer to my skin, ready to Dash again if needed, though the effort would cost me dearly.
Before the Hunters could fire, a blur of motion descended from above. Caelum landed between us and them, his scarred wings flaring momentarily for balance before snapping shut. He hadn't followed us; he'd anticipated the Hunters trying to cut off any escape route. His glacial eyes flickered towards me for a heartbeat, unreadable, before locking onto the Hunters.
"Behind me," he ordered, his voice flat, cold. It wasn't a request.
The Hunters didn't hesitate. Three bolts, humming with blessed energy, streaked towards Caelum. He didn't just dodge. He moved like liquid shadow, twin dark blades appearing in his hands as if by magic. One bolt was deflected with an angry screech of protesting metal. He ducked under the second, simultaneously slicing the third clean in half before it could reach him. The severed halves clattered uselessly against the cobblestones.
Then he attacked. He flowed forward, not with the wild fury I might have expected, but with a terrifying, focused precision. His blades wove a complex, deadly pattern. One Hunter tried to parry, only to have his arm severed at the elbow, the crossbow clattering away. Caelum's follow-through took the Hunter's head from his shoulders.
The remaining two attacked simultaneously. Caelum spun, one blade blocking a downward slash while the other slid under the second Hunter's guard, finding a gap in the armour just below the ribs. The Hunter choked, stumbling back. Caelum dispatched the first with a swift reverse stroke, then turned to face the wounded one.
Before he could strike the final blow, I felt it – a build-up of energy from the plaza. The Judicator. Its cannon whining again.
"Caelum! Construct!" I yelled.
He reacted instantly, shoving off the ground just as a beam of blue energy incinerated the spot where he'd stood, taking the wounded Hunter with it. He landed near Kaelen and me, his back momentarily to the chaos of the plaza, facing the alley entrance.
"More incoming," Kaelen warned, glancing back towards the plaza where Templars were beginning to push into the alley.
We were trapped. Hunters behind us (more would come), Templars advancing in front, and the Judicator somewhere nearby, ready to fire again.
Caelum didn't speak. He simply shifted his stance slightly, blades held ready, positioning himself almost back-to-back with me. It wasn't planned, not discussed. It was pure instinct. His cold aura brushed against the heat simmering under my skin, and something strange happened.
Instead of clashing, the energies seemed to… resonate. The air crackled. My own internal fire surged, not uncontrollably, but with a focused intensity I'd never felt before. The trembling in my limbs eased. It felt like finding a missing piece, a circuit suddenly completed. His icy focus seemed to sharpen my volatile heat; my raw energy seemed to almost feed his controlled power. It was bizarre, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once.
He must have felt it too. I saw his shoulders tense almost imperceptibly. Did he remember this feeling? Had we ever been close enough, powerful enough, back in Havenwood for this to happen?
Templars charged into the alley, glaives levelled. "For the Faith!"
"Azara!" Kaelen shouted, engaging the first Templar with his twin blades.
There was no more time for wonder. Caelum moved left, I moved right. He met the Templars head-on, his dark blades a blur, turning their blessed weapons aside, finding flesh with chilling accuracy. I focused on speed, on disruption. I Dashed, a short, controlled burst, appearing behind a Templar aiming a wrist-launcher, kicking his arm, sending the blessed bolt sizzling into the brick wall. I spun, exhaling another focused wave of heat , not enough to burn, but enough to make two charging Templars recoil, their armour momentarily too hot to bear, disrupting their formation.
Caelum capitalized instantly, flowing through the gap I'd created, disabling both Templars with swift, non-lethal (surprisingly) blows using the flats of his blades. He glanced at me, a flicker of something – surprise? Calculation? – in his glacial eyes before turning back to the fight.
We moved together, an unrehearsed dance of ice and fire. His precise lethality, my disruptive speed and heat. Kaelen fought beside us, a whirlwind of elven steel, holding his own. For a few frantic moments, we held the alley.
But more Templars pushed in. And then, the ground shook. The Judicator stomped into view at the alley's mouth, blocking our escape route back towards the Resistance territory, its cannon already powering up again.
"We can't hold this!" Kaelen panted, parrying a desperate glaive thrust.
"The sewer access!" I yelled, remembering seeing a rusted grating further down the alley near the collapsed doorway we'd passed earlier. "Cover us!"
Caelum didn't need telling. Without a word, he launched himself towards the Judicator. It was suicidal. But as he flew, his eyes, previously fixed on his immediate opponents, blazed with a sudden, intense golden light. Two beams of concentrated solar fire lanced out, striking the Judicator's optical sensor.
The construct staggered back with a screech of tortured metal, its blue eye flickering violently, temporarily blinded. The cannon discharged wildly, blasting a chunk out of the building opposite.
"Now!" Caelum roared, his voice strained, landing lightly despite the effort the eye-beams must have cost him.
Kaelen and I didn't hesitate. We sprinted down the alley, Kaelen wrenching at the rusted sewer grating while I kept watch behind us. Caelum followed, fighting a terrifyingly effective retreating action, his dark blades holding back the momentarily disorganized Templars and Hunters emerging from the other end of the alley.
The grating screeched open. Foul air billowed up. "Go! Go!" Kaelen urged, dropping inside.
I slid in after him, landing in ankle-deep filth. Above, Caelum deflected another blessed bolt, then vaulted backwards into the opening just as the Judicator, recovering its sight, fired again. The energy blast hit the cobblestones above, sending debris raining down as Caelum slammed the heavy grating shut, plunging us into near total darkness.
Silence. Blessed, absolute silence, broken only by our ragged breathing and the distant gurgle of sewage. The sounds of battle above faded rapidly.
We stood there, shoulder-to-shoulder in the stinking dark. Kaelen leaning against the slimy wall, chest heaving. Me, trembling uncontrollably now that the adrenaline was starting to recede, the impossible synergy fading, leaving only exhaustion and the bone-deep ache from the Dash.
And Caelum. Standing utterly still, a silhouette against the faint light filtering through the grating cracks. The cold aura was back, perhaps even stronger now, pushing against my own fading heat.
Slowly, deliberately, he turned. I couldn't see his expression clearly in the gloom, but I could feel his eyes on me. The ghost I had mourned for seven years. The angel who had saved my life at the cost of his own. Alive. Transformed. Standing before me in the filth and darkness beneath Oakhaven City.
The reality of it crashed over me, heavier than the Judicator's blast. My breath hitched. Words failed me. What could I possibly say?
He spoke first, his voice low, devoid of the warmth I remembered, rougher, colder than the glacial ice in his eyes.
"Azara." He said my name not as a question this time, but as a statement. Acknowledging the impossible. "How?"