Shadowblade Part 3 (Conclusion)

…And moved away from the winded Korit as the lone crystal window shattered and Arika Sariona, twin Lightning Katana in her hands, leapt through, engaging Andrith in close combat.
Arika’s Lightning Katana and Andrith’s twin daggers were a blur. Arika and Andrith fought so fiercely it was hard to distinguish one from another. Strike, parry, riposte; so went the rapid series of blows and blurs that Korit saw as he lay on the ground recovering from the elbow strike. It almost seemed like the duel would never end…
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         Darkness covered the world, spreading rapidly from the horizon. So it was that Ahrat Paran, Kasam of Shadow, and the College of the Night entered the fray, javelins of purest starlight destroying Demons and those who were evil. Seven Kasam. The Rime Celestial was almost complete.
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         Siranov pulled himself to his feet and looked the Chaos Revenant in the eye, pure hate and rage in his gaze. He cast away his sword, signifying that he chose to fight this battle by Magic rather than by the sword. In response, the Revenant dropped the Warkey. Both men were Sorcerers, using ancient words of power to unlock the power that lay within them.
         “Tipharah!” A stream of ethereal golden tendrils emerged from the Necromancer’s outstretched hand, enveloping the massive form of the Revenant.
         “Dai!” At the Revenant’s harsh command the tendrils immediately retracted, freeing the demi-Demon.
         “Barak!” A stream of red lightning shot out from the palm of the Revenant towards the Kasam of Death.
         “Magen!” The air before Siranov rippled as the lightning hit it and instantly dissipated upon collision with the arcane shield.
         “Ohr!” A beam of light extended from Siranov’s hand towards the Revenant.
         “Choshekh!” A counter-beam of darkness came from the hand of the one who was once Athian to meet the beam of light in a terrific explosion of magic.
         “Die, Shadowblade.” The Chaos Revenant rushed towards the Necromancer, elbowing him in the jaw, before kneeing him in the stomach, knocking him over. The Revenant put his blade to Siranov’s throat.
”Die.”
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         Arika and Andrith fought ferociously, blade ringing out on blade. Their movements were graceful and elegant, the battle a dance, a work of art, neither able to gain the upper hand. Eventually in order to gain the upper hand Andrith kicked Arika in her slender shin, setting her off balance, and slit her throat, leaving her on the ground, stone dead.
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         The carnage of the battlefield was chaotic, blast ricocheting everywhere, yet the Demons still holding their own very effectively. The sky was streaked with all the colours of the spectrums, as wonders blossomed on the battlefield. The sky rained water, stone, fire and ice, as storms and earthquakes ripped the earth to shreds. Volcanic eruptions blossomed like flowers. And amidst all the chaos nobody noticed that Lithia was gone.
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         “Kerach!” The Chaos Revenant momentarily turned to see his daughter staring at him, hatred burning like icy flames in her frost coloured eyes, before the spell hit the Demi-demon, morphing flesh to ice. An instant later, the Sorceress’s elegant sword shattered the terrifying sculpture of frost. The Chaos Revenant was no more.
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         Korit buried his dagger in Andrith's brain with an almighty scream, kicking the corpse to the floor. He then rushed over to the body of Arika Sariona and knelt by the corpse, a flow of tears gushing from his eyes.
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         A pair of black draconic wings burst from the Necromancer's shoulders, as he rose above the field of battle before the seven other Kasam and the united armies of the Rime Celestial. He threw Sirik, Karad's sword, and inheritance well deserved. “This is for Karad!” Siranov cried as he led the mighty charge. Siranov at the front, the flying leader of the forces of the Rime Celestial. Lithia, enshrouded by a frosty mist. Manethal, leading the Order of Light in a dazzling sunburst. Talsar, riding the crystal waters he left in his wake in a great ark, with the School of Fishes as crew. Kore leading the League of Earth into battle on the shoulders of Golems. Shiran Tarid and the Pillar of Fire, leaving a burning wake in the path they made. Satil Pentra and the Legion of Cloud riding the winds into battle. Ahrat Paran and the College of the Night walking the paths of shadow as they joined the charge. The Icecarvers, led by Sarito, riding great beasts of the wilderness. The King’s Army, led by Wraith on horseback. On foot, the Black Academy, led by Sirik. The Lycanthropes, riding dire wolves, led by Packleader Alpha. And the Army of the Dead, riding occult creations of dead bone and flesh, led by Kuriev, Skull Commander. And so it was that after the charge, no Demon stood.
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         The eight Kasam made a treaty on that day, before each army headed back to its point of origin. Siranov however, stayed on the battlefield to talk with Korit, who had just emerged from the ruined palace, carrying Arika’s lifeless body in his arms.
         “Korit, I… I understand what you feel.”
         “No! You could never understand! This has never happened to you! You know nothing!” Korit’s anger and grief were plain.
         Siranov tore off his right gauntlet, revealing a wrist with three distinct scars. “Yes Korit, I too made the third cut. And I… did more than that. Arika Sariona was my daughter.” Korit gaped.
         “Come, Korit. Karad’s cremation ceremony is tonight.”
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         Siranov entered his inner sanctum, and without opening his eyes acknowledged Lithia's armed presence. Lithia’s blade swept at the Necromancer, parried quickly by the slender Shadowblade. Siranov used the force from the parry to knock Lithia’s blade back, but before he could strike, the woman’s blade swished towards Siranov's stomach, and as the blade was blocked, Lithia kicked the older Sorcerer’s legs, tripping him. She put the point of the Rimesteel to his throat. Siranov closed his eyes, yet the killing blow never came. His lips twisted into and ironic smile.
         “You still love me, Lithia. You know that you can’t kill me. Now go, and resurrect the Order of Ice.”
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         Siranov stayed by Karad's funeral pyre long after the cremation ceremony was over, standing by the grave of a true friend till first light, more than an hour after the last cinders had burned down. A tap on the shoulder made him turn. And there before him, resplendent in her golden armour, with Judgement in her hand, stood Arika Sariona, Archangel.


Acknowledgements:
         First and foremost: Thankyou to Joel Torbiner, Naomi Black and Nathan Companez. Joel is the basis for the character of Siranov and he also helped me with some battle calculations. Without Naomi, none of the female characters would exist and even if they had, Korit and Arika's relationship wouldn't have gone far at all. Also, Lithia’s existence was the cause of the creation of the League of Magi, so you have her to thank for that, too. Nathan fine-tuned the concept of Magic and the idea of the Angel Team to a point where they met his impressive standards of rationality. Also thanks to my Mum for teaching me all the quirks of grammar and the English language, Adam Weitzer for reading my story before I sent it off, my often-despised Hebrew teachers (yes, all the spells are actually Hebrew words), the Madrichim at Netzer for their unfailing support (especially Simon M. and Joe), Tara Josem for help with female characters and the bit where Korit enters the castle and the people at Blizzard Entertainment for first introducing me to the concept of Necromancy.  Also thanks to Rhona, my English teacher and Yanoula, the school librarian, for all their support. Without all of you I could not have completed this story.