Draven Ashborne's Arc

Chapter 15 of 17

The green shoots at the crater floor were still fragile when Draven felt the ground shift. Valxara raised her head. Aurelius stood from where he knelt in the cured soil. North of them, more dead land waited. Draven meant to heal what he could reach. He drove his blade into the soft new earth and poured fire and frost down through it. But the cleansing power was gone. He had spent it all yesterday on the deepest root. The steel warmed the dirt and did nothing more. "It won't cleanse anymore," Draven said. "Only cut and burn." Valxara did not answer. She was staring past the crater rim. "Something comes," she said. "The rot called it." It crested the ridge at a run. The beast had the bulk of a bear and the mane of a lion. Ragged wings folded against its ribs. A spined tail arched over its back, tipped with a barb that dripped green. Corruption ran in its blood, same as the poison Draven had just killed. It fixed pale eyes on him and charged. Draven turned to meet it, but Valxara struck first. She threw herself between him and the beast, wings wide, and slammed a claw across its jaw. The barbed tail whipped down. She caught it on her shoulder and hissed as the poison bit in. "Aurelius!" Draven shouted. "Its blood is like mine. Don't let it near me." Aurelius understood. Draven's curse fed on corruption. One deep scratch from that tail and the beast might drag his blood back toward the change. The paladin poured gold light into his open hand and hurled it at the creature's eyes. The beast reared, blind for a breath. That breath was enough. Draven swung the two-handed blade in a flat arc. Fire and frost met the beast's flank and cut deep. It screamed and turned on him. The tail came for his chest. Valxara caught it in her jaws. She dragged the beast's head down and pinned it. "Now," she said through clenched teeth. Draven drove the blade through its neck. Fire burned the wound shut behind the steel. The beast shuddered once and dropped. Its blood steamed on the fresh soil and died there. Draven pulled the sword free. His hands were steady. The corruption had reached for him and found the collar of his will still holding. Seraphina was not here, and he had not slipped. Valxara sank onto the healed ground. Green ooze leaked from her shoulder where the barb had struck. "It rooted in me," she said, flat. "The poison. It's in my blood now." Aurelius knelt beside her and pressed his palm to the wound. Gold light flared and dimmed. The rot did not clear. "My light slows it," he said. "It won't stop it." Draven looked at his blade. The cleansing runes lay dark. The one power that could have saved her was spent.